#ACTUALLY HE WAS BEATING HIS WIFE AND USED HER A BABY MAKING MACHINE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Every Little Thing

Pairing: Colin Shea x fem!Reader

Words: ~4.3k

Summary: You and Colin are two slutty pea in a pod neighbors, but maybe you could be more?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex), idiots in love, excessive alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Ugh, I love Colin and I can’t believe it took me so long to write him. Before I get a bunch of notes about it, they’re gonna realize their feelings eventually but it might take a couple fics because they’re both morons, but they’re pretty morons so it’s fine 😉

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Divider by @firefly-graphics

Oh god, what the fuck was that noise? Why was your phone ringing at 8 AM on a fucking Sunday?

You picked up the offensive object and growled when you got a look at the caller ID.

“Colin, it’s Sunday morning, this had better be really good. I didn’t get home until 4 AM.”

“She won’t fucking leave.” He hissed over the line. “She wants to go out for waffles.”

“I fail to see how this is my problem.” You grumbled, rolling over onto your back and flinging your arm over your eyes. “Just ditch her at the fucking waffle place.”

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s like a second date. What about our deal?” That fucking deal, he definitely benefitted more from it than you did.

“You’re an asshole.” You mumbled, sitting up with an exhausted groan. “Gimme 5 minutes.”

“You’re the best!” You could hear the fucking grin in his voice and rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm before you hung up on him, stretching your whole body as you moved to put on some clothes.

It only took you a few minutes to pull on some old jeans and a sweatshirt and then you were stomping across the hall to Colin’s apartment, determined to make this as uncomfortable as possible for him.

“Colin Shea!” You pounded on the door viciously. “This is your wife! I found your little love nest! What hooker do you have in there now?”

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you heard a commotion from inside, someone was cursing up a storm and you were pretty sure you heard a couple of slaps.

“I can hear you in there.” You tried to make it sound like you were on the verge of tears. “What about Colin Junior? I’m not raising that baby on my own, you bastard!”

The door slammed open and a very angry looking woman stormed out, shooting a glare over her shoulder and calling Colin a motherfucker as she scurried down the stairs. He came rushing after her with a frustrated look on his face, rubbing the side of his jaw and scowling when he got a look at the shit eating grin on your face.

“My wife?” He asked incredulously, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his naked torso as you just continued laughing at him. “That was kinda mean.”

“8 AM on a Sunday, Shea.” You booped his nose with your finger and winked at him before turning to head back to your place. “You wake me up before 10 AM on a weekend and you take what you can get. I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Y/N, don’t you wanna have breakfast or something?” He jogged after you, ignoring the glower you shot him as you opened your door. “I’ll make you my famous eggs.”

“Did you not hear me when I said I got in at 4 AM?” You frowned at him when he kept you from closing your front door. “Colin, quit being so clingy. If I wanted to have breakfast with some annoying dude I would’ve actually brought that lawyer from last night home.”

“A lawyer, huh?” He was giving you one of those stupid looks that he typically reserved for girls he was trying to bang but that he definitely knew didn’t work on you. “And that didn’t even do it for you.”

“I mean, I still rode that beard for a good hour, but he was super depressing.” You kept knocking your door against his foot with an annoyed air. “Which is why I need to sleep, so get out of my fucking doorway.”

“Fine, we’re hanging out later though!” He called as you slammed the door in his face.

You just ripped off your clothes and crawled back into bed, burying your face in your pillows and cursing the sun as you did your best to fall back asleep.

It must have happened at some point, because you woke up six hours later with a mouth full of cotton and absolutely drenched in sweat. Why was it so fucking hot?

The pillow case tried to come with your face when you rolled out of the bed and you threw it away from you with a huff as you padded to inspect your air conditioner.

It wasn’t on. You knelt in front of it and whined as you tried flicking it off and on and nothing happened. This could not be happening, not with summer just about to start. It was supposed to be in the 90s today. No matter what you tried, it didn’t turn on. Granted, all you tried was unplugging it and plugging it back in, but that always worked with your computer.

The call to the repair company was no luck, they were closed for the weekend. This was going to suck, you fucking hated being hot. You moved to your kitchen to try to find some way to cool off after opening every damn window in your place to hopefully get some kind of air circulation going.

That’s when you spotted it.

The frozen margarita machine you had bought on an absinthe fueled online shopping spree and never gotten around to returning. It was like a little miracle right there in your kitchen, designed to help you cool off and get drunk so you could forget about how fucking hot it was while you did the week’s worth of chores you had been procrastinating.

You hummed happily when that first gulp of frozen tequila goodness slid down your throat, and maybe you shouldn’t have chugged the whole thing but who fucking cared, it was hot. Time flew by as you downed those things like it was your fucking job, scrubbing your pots and pans and singing little songs to yourself.

Music started drifting through your open windows but you barely registered it even as you started singing along because it was Queen and how could you not.

It was the third time you had filled that margarita machine and you were feeling fantastic, dancing around your kitchen as you continued cleaning your dishes. Whoever was playing music was still going strong and you began belting when they started doing Seven Seas of Rhye.

“You are mine, I possess you, I belong to you foreveeeEEER!”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Your badass high note devolved into a shriek and you turned to chuck the cup you were holding at the intruder on the fire escape, cursing when you saw it was Colin. He managed to duck out of the way at the last second with a muttered fuck and you sighed as you watched your mug sail over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Shea, that was my favorite mug!” You pouted, stamping your foot a little and taking another gulp of your margarita. “What the fuck are you doing on my fire escape?”

He gave you a stupid cocky grin as he watched to try to lean on one hand on your counter and almost go down when you missed it at the last second.

“Are you drunk, honey?” Fuck him for calling you honey, that wiley asshole. “We could hear you singing from the roof.”

“I’m just a little buzzed.” You hiccupped. “Who’s we?”

“My band.” He crawled into your apartment and caught you when you tripped over your own feet again, still grinning at you like an idiot. “The ones you were singing along with.”

“That was your band?” You had never realized how blue his eyes were. “You guys sound great!”

“Yeah, you sound pretty good yourself.” He grabbed the cup you were holding and gave it a sniff, coughing a little before he set it on the counter. “Maybe you should come hang out with us instead of drinking what I think is blended jet fuel and ice all by yourself.”

“If I’m gonna hang out with you guys I think I should bring a pitcher of margs.” He was really fucking pretty, had you noticed that before? “Don’t wanna be a bad hostess.”

“Oh, baby, you’re wasted.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear and you felt your chest flutter a little bit. “No more margs for you. Come sing with us while you sober up. No, no.” He pulled you back when you tried to crawl out the window and started dragging you towards your door. “Ladder doesn’t really seem like a good idea right now, let’s take the stairs.”

You tossed your head back as you laughed, slapping his chest while you leaned heavily on him and let him guide you through the hall and to the stairs to the roof. Those were some firm pecs, you were a little marvelled at the way your palm just bounced right off so you slapped it again.

“Wow.” It was like your hand was moving independently from your brain as you gave him a pretty brazen squeeze. “Your tits are fantastic, Colin.”

“Holy shit, Y/N!” He was laughing hysterically when he shoved the door to the roof open. “Your drunk game is on point sweetie. Guys, this is Y/N, the killer vocals you heard from downstairs. She’s a little tipsy.”

They introduced themselves and you promptly forgot all of their names, your hand trailing down Colin’s chest until you could press it against his abs. This was getting weird, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But seeing and touching were apparently two very different things.

“We still doing Queen, boys?” You said, finally tearing your eyes away from Colin after poking him in the bellybutton and grinning when he made a noise like the Pillsbury doughboy. “Cos I’m good with whatever.”

“What about some Journey?” He slung his SG over his shoulder and watched you carefully as you grabbed the mike one of his bandmates was handing you. “You wanna sit down, hon?”

“Don’t call me hon, sweetheart.” You teased, giving him a wink and tapping the mike a couple of times. “I’ll be fine. Journey feels a little basic but ok. Faithfully or Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’?”

That grin he gave you should not have been affecting you like this, maybe you did have too many margaritas. The bassist started playing the opening riff to Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’ and your grin got even wider, your hips moving to the beat as you kept your eyes on Colin. You laughed happily when he joined in with the guitar part, joining in after the piano had done its thing and losing yourself in the music.

He could not take his eyes off of you, he was pretty sure you’d never been this fucking cheerful around him before. Not that you were especially grumpy or anything, or that your typical dry wit didn’t immediately endear you to him. But seeing you with that goofy grin as you sang every fucking Journey song they had in their roster until the sun set was not helping the already prodigious crush he had on you.

Now the two of you were sitting on the couch he had dragged up there months ago and watching his bandmates pack up their gear, saying goodbye to each of them as they headed down the stairs and left you two to lean against each other and sigh happily. You had your legs flung over his lap as he plucked at his guitar strings lazily, kicking your feet slowly and leaning back on the sofa as you watched him closely and sipped on a bottle of water.

“You ever do any actual performing, honey?” He asked, his fingers running over your calf absentmindedly. “Cos with that voice you could probably line up some gigs.”

“Just karaoke.” You murmured. You were definitely sobering up now, but you were still hyper aware of his hands on your skin and it was giving you some feelings you weren’t totally sure about. “Lemme see that thing.”

“What?” He gave a little huff when you grabbed the neck of his guitar and pulled it into your lap. “Baby, do not tell me you play.”

“I mean, it’s been a little while, but I think I remember a couple chords.” You gave him another grin and his chest started to hurt.

“Jesus, a couple chords?” He laughed to cover the absolutely filthy sound he almost made when you started playing, it was like he had made you on a computer. “Honey, that’s Led Zeppelin.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy Zeppelin.” You teased, turning your body so you could lean against his chest and not missing the low rumble you felt when you tucked your head against his shoulder. “It’s Coda.”

“Uh-huh.” Being this close to you was doing something to him, he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to smell your hair.

“Why haven’t we slept together, Col?” Fuck it, you might as well do this.

He choked on the water he was drinking, turning his face so he didn’t spit it all over you as you stopped your playing and grinned at him.

“I seem to remember giving it a good try when you moved in.” He managed to get himself under control and turned his face back to you. “But you said you had a rule about not fucking people who live in the same building as you. Something about not shitting where you eat.”

“That’s about sex with coworkers.” You said, scrunching your face up as you tried to remember what your exact justification had been.

“Which is what I told you.” He tried to scoot away from you but you followed after him. “To which you replied, ‘doesn’t matter, not gonna happen’.”

“Huh, that seems awful short-sighted of me.” You scooted closer again and this time he let you. “C’mon, we’ve fucked almost everyone else in this city, we’d have gotten to each other eventually anyways.”

“Jesus, what a romantic sentiment.” He was trying to focus real hard on his softeners, but they weren’t working with you squirming against him like that. “You really want to do this?”

“I mean, I think we’d enjoy it.” You set his guitar aside and turned so your chest was pressed to his. “It’s not like we’re gonna catch feels, or anything. Just gonna see what all the fuss is about.”

“Right.” Maybe this would get his little crush out of his system. “Let’s not do it on the roof, though.”

“God, no. My place?” You stood up and started heading towards the fire escape.

“Yeah, ok.” He watched you climb down to your apartment before sliding down the ladder after you like the damn frat boy he was.

As soon as he climbed in the window you were dragging him towards you, swallowing his tiny cry of surprise when you pulled his mouth to yours. His lips were unbelievably soft against your own, and when he opened up and stroked your tongue with his?

Fuck.

“Shit, Colin.” You purred when he started trailing his lips down your throat. “I feel like maybe we should’ve done this sooner.”

“Yeah, maybe.” His voice was muffled as his mouth moved to your chest, one hand moving to hook under the neckline of your camisole and pulling on it until your breasts popped out. “Well fuck me. No wonder you know so much about fantastic tits.”

You laughed at that, arching into his face and grinning down at him as he buried his face between your tits and gazed at you through his lashes. Those stupid, long as all fuck lashes that were brushing against your skin as he mouthed at your soft curves.

“Jesus, fuck.” You wound your fingers through his hair when he dragged his tongue over your nipple, tugging on it softly and guiding him further into your apartment. “God, you really know how to use that mouth of yours, sweetie.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t even know.” He teased, moving his face back to yours and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he started carrying you towards your bedroom. “You wanna find out, though?”

“You tease all the girls you fuck this much?” You nipped at his lips and grinned when he moaned into your mouth, reaching behind you to open the door to your bedroom.

“Nah, that’s just for you, baby.” He cooed, giving you a quick peck on the lips before dropping you on the bed with a huff.

Every place his fingers touched sent a jolt of heat through your body straight to your core, your eyes never leaving his as he started kissing and nipping his way down your torso after pulling your cami over your head. He grinned against your thigh when you moaned after he yanked your shorts down your legs, sucking a soft bruise into your flesh before rubbing his face over your clothed core and inhaling deeply.

You throbbed under his lips as he pressed gentle kisses over the fabric that covered your mound, hooking your legs over his shoulders and trying to grind into him when he tugged at your panties with his teeth and let them snap back into place teasingly. His fingers skimmed up your legs until he could hook them under the band of your panties and drag them off you, sighing heavily when he settled back between your thighs and got a good look at you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He spread you apart with his fingers and flicked his tongue out to run over your slit softly, moaning when he finally tasted you.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” You ran your fingers through his hair and beamed at him, rolling your hips against his face when he sucked your pussy lips into his mouth with a low hum.

Colin chuckled into your cunt at that, pressing gentle kisses all over your soft folds before dragging his tongue over you in a heavy stripe. Your body reacted immediately when he reached your clit, your back arching off the bed and your legs curling around his neck as he repeated the same process but at a much slower pace.

Two of his fingers slid inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and you keened, gripping his hair by the roots and tugging hard when he started stretching you open while his lips drove you wild. The rhythm of his suction and release matched the curling of his fingers inside you and made you want to scream, your free hand reaching above your head and digging hard into your pillow as your body tried to rise off the bed when he brought you right to the edge of your peak right away.

“Col, Colin, oh fuck.” He felt like your thighs were gonna suffocate him but those sounds you were making for him had him past the point of caring about a silly thing like oxygen. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Your whole body seized against his face as you let out a gorgeous fluttering moan, soaking his lips and chin in your release as he hummed with satisfaction into your pussy. He sat up when you finally released him, removing his clothes in a rush as he watched you pant underneath him and run your tongue over your lips. God, you were fucking beautiful, he couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to do this.

Before you had a chance to say anything he was hooking your knee over his elbow and thrusting into you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion and releasing his breath in a thin hiss when he felt your satiny walls flutter around him.

“Ah, fuck, you feel amazing.” He ducked his face to catch your lips with his before pulling back with a groan. “Shit, I forgot a condom. Uh, I’m clean, just got tested last week.”

“God, you’re fine sweetie.” You brought a hand up to cup his jaw and ran a thumb over his cheek in a soothing gesture. “Also clean and I have an IUD, so we’re peachy. I am a little mad at you though.”

“Yeah, why?” He wasn’t too worried, you were still grinning at him as he started moving his hips slowly.

“Well, Jesus, fuck, you’re big.” You almost lost your train of thought when he tilted your hips just a bit and his cock hit you deep. “I usually like to reciprocate oral, sweetie. I barely even got a look at what you’re packing down there.”

“You’ve seen it before.” He groaned when you wrapped your free leg around his hips and rolled your body against his.

“Just glances though.” You gripped his biceps and dug your nails in, biting your lip as he continued dragging his length over every inch of you at an agonizing pace. “And never hard.”

“Honey, there’s no way I’m pulling out for you to take a good look so you’re gonna have to make due.” He teased, grinding against your clit and grinning when your eyes fluttered closed.

“Fine.” You huffed, frowning a little before winking at him. “We’re switching then.”

“What?”

You didn’t answer, just giving him a cocky grin and gripping his hips with your thighs. One quick move and he was under you, a small sound of surprise leaving his lips when you were suddenly straddling his hips and grinning down at him.

“Oh yeah, that’s better.” You placed one palm on the center of his chest and curled your fingers through his chest hair as you rose up on your knees before sinking down again nice and slow, loving the low groan you felt reverberate in his chest when you clenched around him. “Good for you, Col?”

“Yes, yeah, s’ good.” He was completely mesmerized by you, his eyes trailing over your body as you arched your back and continued to ride him.

The way he was reacting to you was making it hard for you to focus on what you were doing, his eyes soft and relaxed on yours and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he slowly moved his hips to meet your own. You could’ve lost yourself in those eyes if you really wanted to.

Shit, none of that.

His fingers started trailing up your sides when he fucked up into you suddenly and he lost it at the way your tits bounced for him, sitting up with a whine and nuzzling into your chest before wrapping his lips around your nipple as he started bucking wildly.

“Shit, fuck, Colin.” He was hitting your cervix with each punch of his hips and it was taking all your self control to not pass out from how hard he was railing you, wrapping your legs around him and dragging your lips over his jaw. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Yeah? Good.” He cupped your jaw and brought your face back to his, tugging at your lips with his teeth while he gazed into your eyes. “I wanna watch your face while you come.”

You kept your eyes open and trained on his, worrying his bottom lip with your teeth and resting your forehead against his as you felt a warm coil gathering in the pit of your stomach. It was like you were falling into those lust blown pools as he took you apart, your lips crashing against his as the coil snapped and you gasped his name into his mouth.

The feeling of your entire body fluttering around him was too much, and he followed you with a low growl. He muttered your name under his breath as he spilled his cum inside you, holding you close to his chest and rubbing his nose against yours.

You fell on top of him when he collapsed back against the bed, the two of you laughing breathlessly as you tangled your limbs and molded your lips together before pulling back and gazing at each other some more. Both of you lost yourselves for just a beat, your chests heaving against each other’s before disconnecting and rolling off the bed in two opposite directions as you did your best to compose yourselves.

“I’d say you definitely earned all those screams I’ve heard coming from your apartment, Shea.” You teased, trying your best to lighten the mood and not dwell on the desire you had to ask him to spend the night.

“Yeah, well I’ve always thought so.” He was avoiding looking at you as much as possible, searching the room for his clothes and fighting the urge to pull you back into the bed and snuggle with you. “Have you seen my converse?”

“Yeah, here.” You shoved his shoes at him after pulling an oversized tee over your head. “Well, I’ve got work in the morning, so…”

“Right, I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later, I guess.” He shuffled towards your front door and pulled it open before leaning back to look at you one more time. “You can join us for band practice any time, by the way.”

“That would be great.” That smile you were giving him made him feel like his heart was going to break. “I promise not to be sloppy drunk next time.”

“Aww, drunk Y/N was pretty fun, but ok.” He winked at you then left in a hurry, slamming the door behind him.

You fell back on your bed and ran your hands over your face in frustration, hating yourself for coming up with this stupid idea because now all you wanted was to have breakfast with that beautiful idiot tomorrow after sleeping on top of his chest.

“Goddamn it.”

Colin grabbed himself a beer when he got back to his apartment and chugged it, sinking into one of his barstools and considering the fact that he was absolutely not over his crush after everything the two of you had just done.

“Shit.”

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#natalie writes #colin shea #colin shea x reader #colin shea x fem!reader #colin shea x you #colin shea x y/n #colin shea smut #what's your number #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans character #smut #eighteen plus #eighteen and over #do not interact if you are a minor

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clarawatson · 3 years

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It Only Takes A Taste (2)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded) Summary: it’s your second time meeting Aaron. He’s still flustered and precious but he (might) manage to give you his number. W/C: 2113 Warnings: none yet! A/N: i haven’t got chapter names yet, just accept they’re all called ‘it only takes a taste’ haha. AO3 tags: @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 (if you want to get added, lmk!!) Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

The next time you meet him, it’s 2am. Rita’s three weeks off her due date. She’s been staying at Joe’s place, with his wife, because the heating’s gone out in her apartment and her super is a foul man. If you were inclined to murder, he’d be first on your list. Right now she’s out the back, trying to wipe chocolate sauce off her uniform. The baby’s been kicking for hours and knocks things around the counter sometimes. At least it isn’t throwing her ribs out this time.

There’s a couple of teens drinking milkshakes in the window, they’ve snuck out after bedtime and they’re giggling to each other about how bad they are. You’ve seen their parents drive by twice (they’re regulars after school) but no one’s come in yet.

The agent drives by, and then does a u-turn and comes back. It was literally a double take, no matter how you look at it. You clearly saw him slow down and try to look in the window as he tried (desperately tried) to stay on the main road. And then he’d turned around and come back.

He’s even prettier dry than he was wet. (Your mind spirals to where that could have gone, which is not something you expected from a 2am shift). He’s loosened his tie and his hair is falling free of the gel. He looks less tired, and yet more tired. A different kind of tired. This one would be fixed by a good night’s sleep.

“Hi,” he says with a little quirk in his lip that could be him fighting off a smile.

“Hi,” you return with a full smile. He sits in front of you and steeples his fingers under his chin.

“I’m Aaron.”

A fortnight you’ve been wondering his name and he just swans in and hands it to you on a silver platter. Bless him and his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y/n,” you introduce. “And what can I get for you tonight, Aaron?”

“Maybe not a coffee.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you. He has such a cheeky smile you almost want to reach over and wipe it off his lips. “A hot chocolate would do. I’ve got to sleep enough to take my kid to school.”

“Have here?” Your hands hover over the in-cups and the out-cups. He taps his finger against his chin.

“In.” He folds his hands and you notice he’s not wearing a wedding ring. Kid, no wedding ring, weird hours. Could be a score, could be a serial killer. Could be both! No. Not both. There will be no fraternising with serial killers. Not if you respect your life.

Would it be weird to ask him where he works? If he works for one of the alphabet soups, will it get you in trouble? Maybe. People don’t like you poking around when sensitive information could be involved. You still ask anyway while the coffee machine has it’s little dummy spit at having to work at two in the morning.

“Quantico,” he says. He probably saw you trying to figure out how to ask. And that’s really all he can say. Maybe. He waggles his eyebrows just a little and you think he’s maybe a little too cheeky for this early in the morning. If Rita was working she’d be swooning all over him.

“That’s very prestigious, but, sir, I don’t think you have the security clearance to be in this diner if you only work at Quantico. We deal with Area 51.”

“Long commute,” he teases.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what the uneducated think. I can break a few rules as long as you don’t start asking questions. No asking about where they keep the aliens, okay?”

“Never.” He wraps his hands around the mug as you push it to him, absorbing it’s warmth.

“Did your son like the cookie?” you ask. Is it weird to remember he has a son after one interaction? Or the cookie? But he smiles. It’s okay.

“He’s actually in love with it. He’s not stopped talking about it. I think my sister-in-law might kill me.”

“Joe’s magic in the kitchen. I’ll save a couple of cookies if you know when you’ll be in next?”

Is that too forward? Maybe. He pulls out a little day book and places it before him.

“Is Thursday too soon?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You make a note to tell Joe you’re working on Thursday. “Sounds like a good day to collect a cookie.”

“If someone could cut this monster out of me, that would be GREAT!” Rita yells in the kitchen. Her voice is still far too loud out here. Aaron finally drops his gaze from yours, grinning into his hot chocolate.

“Shit, babes, I’m serious. I’ll got for a pocket knife at this point. I’m hot, and it’s not hot, I have to piss every four minutes, I can’t even sit in a car properly and taking the MET is stupid because I still have to pee!” She stops up short, seeing Aaron, and blinks as if she could erase her last comment. “Hi, sorry, you’re rain boy.”

“I prefer Raymond.”

There’s a beat where you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. The cheeky demeanor falls from his face.

“Rain Man! Tom Cruise! Smile." Aaron has no option but to smile at Rita. Too late you realise she's checking the alignment of his teeth to actually equate him to Tom Cruise. "Raymond, for sure. Shit, that’s funny,” Rita laughs, groans, and turns on her heel out the back. She needed to pee again. Aaron smiles just a little.

“Want some pie?” you offer. There’s still a bit left. Joe won’t be in for another hour or so, but there’s some in the oven to take out just before three. Aaron nods.

“Yeah, please.” He puts too much money in the tip jar again. Hands you the exact money for the pie. Had he looked at the menu online? Maybe he had. You take a slice out for him, then a slice for yourself. No harm in that. The whipped cream goes on his like a mountain. You put a bit beside your own pie slice, but Aaron’s grinning.

He looks like he may do something childish. He doesn't, though, as you join him in pie eating. The teenagers start giggling about something they're watching on their phone.

Rita comes back looking more tired than usual. Her whole body looks tired as she gets her purse and rubs her belly.

"Say bye to Rita," she says without much playful effort.

"Bye Rita," you return and kiss her cheek as she lifts it to you.

"And to Baby."

"Bye Baby, be good for Mom."

Rita snorts. Joe gives you a list of things to do while he's taking Rita home. Apparently Lola's coming in to replace Rita, but that's only going to be proven by Lola actually turning up. Aaron raises his hand around his fork and waves. Rita waves back and waddles out the back.

"Is she okay?" you ask Joe, and he nods. He waves goodbye to Aaron, even though he hasn't introduced himself yet. Aaron waves too.

"That's a lot to worry about," Aaron says. You shrug and reach over the counter to Aaron's plate, taking some of his cream. He laughs and puts his arm around it to protect it.

"They're family. Less worrying, more caring."

He nods as if he understands. "Might use that sometime."

"You're welcome to."

He gives you a smile that only uses half his face. Gosh, he's cute. But it’s nothing more than fleeting night time visits, right? Okay, maybe not, he clearly turned his car around because he saw you working. You catch him staring at your left hand, studying it intently. No one wore rings at the diner, just because everything got stuck underneath them and there was nothing worse than having a maple syrup adorned wedding ring.

“There’s no one,” you tell him, which flusters him entirely. He smiles and looks down at his pie, blush creeping over his face. “Weird hours in a place like this? Hardly a brilliant base to build a relationship on.”

“Yeah.” He might want to say more, but he’s smiling at you again. “Weird hours, strange place, know that story.”

“Sucks, hey?”

“Oh yeah.”

The teens from the window go home when they’ve finished their milkshake. You tell them to get home safe and pray their parents don’t come in asking where they went. Aaron scraps his plate, scooping up the cream and pie soupy mess.

“I have to go,” Aaron sighs. He runs his hand through his hair and his fingers get stuck in the left-over-gelly-mess. You smother a giggle as he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand out with tiny little crack-crack-crack’s. It sounds painful.

“I’m going to shower and get this shit out of my hair.”

“It’ll look nice without it in.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He blushes, returning to the man you’d met coming out of the rain.

“Well I’ll remember that for next time.”

Your heart jumps. Next time! There’ll be a next! Time!

“Listen, hey, um,” Aaron says as he stuffs a couple of bills into the tip jar. “Here--” he stops again, then shakes his head like he’s giving himself a vote of confidence. “This is…” he stops again and licks his lips, then pulls out a business card from his suit pocket. He scratches his number onto the blank back, and then Aaron at the top. “My number,” he managed to finish.

“Thanks,” you respond before wanting to smack your head onto the counter. Thanks?!?! There are a hundred better things to say. “W-when do you want me?” When do you want me??? “To be here, on Thursday, for the cookies.”

Aaron’s gone red. Your face is hot. This is a disaster. There’s no fixing this disaster. There’s no fixing it at all. But Aaron smiles all the same.

“U-uh. I’ll text you?” he looks so flustered.

“You haven’t got my number,” you giggle, because he hasn’t. You’ve got his. He looks like a tomato as he blushes even more. “How about I text you my number, and you tell me when you’re free, and I’ll make sure there’s three cookies set aside for you that no one else buys.”

“Three?”

“You, your son, your sister-in-law.”

“I could really use you at work,” he laughs and… sits back down. Four seconds ago he was in such a rush to leave, and now he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. He’s so precious, you wish you could just put him in a jar and protect all that goodness from the evils of the world. Surely he couldn’t have met too many of them just yet? He’s still got a smile that could brighten up the night sky, people who’ve seen all the hurt and pain in the world can’t smile like that.

“I don’t think I’m clever enough to get into Quantico. Unless they like people serving them coffees,” you smile gently and he tilts his head while looking at you. A curious puppy. You want to lean over and squish his cheeks for thinking you could be anything more than a server at a roadside diner.

“You’d brighten the place up.”

“You brighten my place up.” Corny, highschool grade flirting. He smiles all the same. Can he smile any more than that? Probably not, he might combust and become a star. “You know you don’t have to keep putting money into the tip jar, right? Not the amount you do. Most people just put in their change.”

He looks at the tip jar. “It’s for Rita’s hospital bills, right? It’s why she won’t look at it, because she’s embarrassed, but also why you and Joe count every bill that goes in it.”

“Alright, Sherlock Holmes.”

“It says on the jar,” he jokes, and points to the permanent marker that’s bled through the otherside of the tip jar. You laugh. Aaron laughs.

“I do have to go.”

“Go,” you laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m off my shift.”

He nods, looking a little sad to go, but also a little excited. He must really love his son.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Aaron,” you return and watch him leave. Shit, he’s even cuter leaving. He even waves from his car before he drives off. You’re close to squealing when the bikie gang pull up, flooding the carpark, then all come in ready for their coffee. At least Aaron’s hot chocolate warmed up the machine for them.

#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #diner!au

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krillin-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Identity In Ink

Welp, I did a thing! Probably one of only two I’ll be able to do this month, but I DID IT! This one’s for the “Tattoo” prompt, and mostly 18-focused and a shortie, but it’s a concept I’ve discussed with people in the past: Basically, did Gero ever do anything to mark his creations, and if so, how would they deal with that. And this one just kinda flowed out. Feel free to show some love or leave feedback in the links too! FF.net link AO3 link Without further ado, here we go.

Sometimes, she couldn't help but let it bother her.

It was a small thing. Something hidden away, beneath clothing, able to be put out of sight, and thus out of mind. But since she'd moved here... since she'd spent more time with her husband on the beach... it was becoming harder to ignore.

"Hmm.." 18 stood in front of the bedroom mirror, her pajama shorts pulled down a bit as she gazed at her hip, fingers idly tracing the object of her discomfort. There, on her left hip, was a small tattoo of the Red Ribbon logo.

It really shouldn't have bothered her, she knew; she'd made her peace with that part of her life a couple of years ago, around the same time she'd finally allowed herself to accept she'd had feelings for her best friend. But still, it reminded her of a time when she hadn't been so free. Reminded her that everything she used to be had been stolen away from her. Reminded her of that twisted old man and his "experiments"...

"Hey babe, you ok?"

18 inhaled sharply and let go of the shorts, the elastic snapping back against her as she spun to face her questioner, her expression cool as ice. "Do I look like I'm in trouble, dear?"

Krillin frowned, tugging at the loose shirt that served as his pajama top. "Well... yes, honestly. You can fool a lot of other folks, 18, but I know when something's bothering you." He pointed at the mirror behind her. "Plus I kinda caught you staring at that for a while."

18 closed her icy blue eyes and exhaled sharply through her nose. "Picking up habits from the old man again, are we?"

"Hey now, come on," he protested. "You're my wife and the mother of my child, who is finally asleep, might I add. But I'm allowed to look in our bedroom."

18 crossed her arms and huffed. "Peeping tom."

Krillin laughed as he noticed the faintest hint of a smile on his wife's lips. "Okay, okay, my bad." He threw his hands up in mock despair. "Spare me, oh mighty goddess of Kame Island."

She opened one eye and peered at him. "Hmm... offer me tribute and I'll consider it."

Krillin took a step forward and stood on his tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Is that better, mistress?"

18 felt her face flush. "N-no... not good enough." Her blush deepened as she felt his hand cup her cheek and bring her face to meet his, her heart skipping a beat as he began to place feather-soft kisses on her lips. She loved this feeling. It was almost enough to make her forget-

She broke off the kisses and sighed deeply again. "Okay... okay yeah, there is something that's been bothering me."

"Ahhh, I figured." He took her hand in his. "What's bugging you, hon? Is it that... mark again?"

She nodded. "Mhm. Just seems so dumb. I know that's not who I am, I know I'm more than that, but sometimes when I see it, it just reminds me of before. Back when I really thought I'd lost my humanity. When I thought it was too late."

Krillin frowned. "Babe, if it bothers you that much, we can try to do something about it." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "We can always see about getting it removed."

18 snorted. "Like we can afford that? Those procedures aren't cheap, you know. Besides, I doubt there are any places that do that who have a laser remotely strong enough to work on my skin."

Krillin shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose." He rubbed his chin for a moment. "Have you considered covering it up with something else, then?"

18 rubbed her forehead. "Maybe... I dunno. I'm not sure what I'd put there even if I could, really." She sat silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "I think... I think I'm gonna go check on Marron real quick." She gave her husband a pat on the head as she headed out the door. "Back in a sec."

She tiptoed across the hall to her daughter's room, the door now adorned with letters spelling out the little one's name, turning the knob as quietly as she could. She only opened it wide enough to slip in, and shut the door behind her; no sense risking her baby girl waking up when she could see just fine in the dark, after all. She took the final two steps to the crib nestled in the middle of the room and smiled.

There lay her baby girl, sound asleep. Her blonde curls splayed out on her pillow, her tiny fist balled up on her chubby little cheek, little noseless face the picture of angelic calm as her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath. 18 reached out and brushed her other cheek softly, and sighed with content.

Little Marron had only recently reached an age where they'd felt comfortable letting her have her own room, and even then it was reluctantly. But between needing a larger crib, and frankly no small amount of frustration, they'd decided it was time. Little Marron hadn't initially been a fan, being quite fussy the first few nights; her father had been as well, and 18 rather appreciated the irony of her husband wanting a return to their intimacy yet also being grumpy about not having Marron with them. She understood though. Marron was one of the only two people whose mere presence seemed to have a calming effect on her. She could be in the worst of moods, but the moment that baby girl cooed at her, it all seemed to drift away as she got lost in those big dark eyes.

18 rested her cheek on her arm as she watched her baby sleep. Her baby. The idea had felt so impossible not so long ago. She'd been sure, positive, that all the alterations to her body would have made her unable to conceive. Gero hadn't seemed the type to leave behind anything that didn't fit his uses, after all. And it's not as if she and Krillin had bothered with precautions for well over a year without consequence. 18 allowed herself an admittedly lecherous smirk at the memories.

But then, one day, it'd happened. The news had shocked both of them, and been a source of both happiness and fear for them as well. But the moment their little bundle of love had come into the world, all that fear seemed to vanish in an instant. She's been so very small, with her mother's soft blonde hair and her father's eyes and features. There was no doubt she was theirs, and Krillin opined that she was the physical manifestation of their love. She'd initially snorted derisively and called him sappy, but as she held their little bundle, she couldn't help but quietly agree.

The tiny form in front of her stretched and yawned, and her heart melted. She was so sweet and innocent... so much so that 18 could find it hard to believe she came from her. She'd been meant to be an assassin, a killer, but now all she wanted was to protect this little angel. 18 smiled and leaned down, placing a feather-soft kiss on her baby's head before quietly opening the door backing out into the hall, gently shutting it behind her.

"She really is amazing, huh?" 18 stiffened and turned to see Krillin leaning against their doorway, grinning.

"Amazing is an understatement. Sometimes I still can't believe that we... that I-"

Krillin straightened and stepped toward her, shushing her. "You best start believing it, 18. She's ours." He took her hand and kissed it softly and smiled as she sighed, contentedly. "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "Feels kinda silly now, letting something like that get to me as much as it did."

He rubbed her back softly. "Nah, it's understandable hon, believe me. So... any ideas on what you might wanna cover that up with?"

18 glanced over at her daughter's door once more. She was her second chance, the ultimate proof of her humanity. The center of her world. Her eyes fell to the plaque on the door, taking in the letters of her daughter's name. 'M-A-R-R...'.

She smiled. "Yeah... I actually do." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once 18 had decided on her new design, Krillin had called up Bulma to see is she's had any ideas on how they could get this done; 18's skin was near-unbreakable, after all, and no normal needle was up to the task. Bulma had eagerly agreed to be of assistance and told them to come over the next day.

It had taken a moment for 18 to brace herself, going back into a sterile lab, laying down on a table, but the procedure had been shockingly swift, a matter of minutes, and it was over before she's realized. She handled it well, all things considered, though Krillin's hand was a bit sore by the time it was over. He smiled at her. "See? That wasn't too bad." He leaned over and gently pecked her nose. "I'm proud of you, babe."

18 nodded and hopped off the slab, walking over to the mirror to examine the new ink, as Krillin turned to speak to Bulma.

"Thanks for the assist, Bulma," Krillin said. "This really means a lot."

The blue-haired Capsule Corp heiress brushed her gloves off on her overalls and lifted her face shield. "Oh, no worries. I had a free day today, and I'd been meaning to test this puppy out." She patted the side of the machine. "I got a custom order from a dinosaur rancher asking for something capable of inking numbers into his livestock, but he never showed up with a test subject so I never got to see if it worked. Just a matter of coding in the design and letting the computer do its thing!"

Krillin blinked. "Wait, did you just use my wife as a guinea pig?"

The heiress chuckled and waved him off. "Don't think of it like that. I never would have offered to do this if I wasn't 100% sure it was safe."

"I gotta admit, I never knew there were dinosaur ranchers out there..."

"Oh... yeah." Bulma scratched her cheek. "I mean, there aren't anymore, but..."

He raised his eyebrows. Oh. I...oh."

"Yeeeeah." She laughed nervously. "Turns out there's probably a reason that profession isn't very common, huh?" She glanced over at 18. "So, whaddya think?"

18 gazed at the small tattoo in the mirror. The red ribbon had been altered to resemble a small red butterfly, and letters added in the same font to now read "MARRON". It was a minor change, but it suited her perfectly. Red Ribbon's mark had been a symbol of the humanity stolen from her; this would be a reminder of what had proven to her that they never had.

She felt Krillin's hand slip into hers and smiled, warmly.

"It's perfect."

#chestnutfest2k21 #chestnutisland #Krillin #Android 18 #K18 #Kuripachi #Android18 #Android Eighteen #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #DB #DBZ #DBS #Dragonball #Dragonball Z

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

“Sharky” *Part 11*

Oh yeah, this series is going to be THE longest series to date. I’ve still got a decent amount of plot I want to get through.

Note: Yes, this is “Undiscovered Country” territory. But let me assure you, the ONLY things that this story will have in common with that episode is what Barba actually did, and the verdict. How we get there, that’s gonna be a very different and VERY bumpy ride.

And away we go!

Chapter List Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 12

Tag List:

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@chasingeverybreakingwave

======

You walked into the small courtroom made for hearings/pleas, your head held high. It wasn’t very full, some of the yahoo’s from the SVU, the kid’s parents you assumed, some reporters who had heard about the “Fallen ADA”. Vultures.

“Your honor my client would like to change his plea,” You walked right up to the judge’s stand without so much as looking over at the State’s side.

“Excuse me?” The judge asked, looking at Rafael who was standing behind you at the desk. “Is this true, Mr. Barba?”

“Yes your honor, I’d also like to change counsel to Miss Y/L/N here,” Barba nodded.

“Objection your honor,” Stone argued, walking up to the judge’s stand.

“Oh what grounds?” The judge raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Barba have been in a relationship, it’s a conflict of interest,” He snarked.

“Your honor, I can assure you 100% that Mr. Barba and I have NEVER been in a ‘relationship’ of any kind, even Detective Benson can attest to that, can’t you?” You glanced back to her.

“It’s true your honor, they’ve never been in a relationship,” Olivia agreed while ignoring Stone’s glare.

“We had ONE very unfortunate sexual experience, if anything we hate each other your honor,” You added with a smirk. You could just feel the glare coming from Rafael into the back of your neck.

“Well, if that’s true then why are you choosing to represent him?” The judge asked suspiciously.

“Because it’s the right thing to do, your honor,” You said earnestly. “I may be an aggressive bitch, but I’m not a monster. Mr. Barba didn’t do anything wrong and--”

“HE KILLED MY SON!!!!”

“Oh shut up, you Pro Life Piss Ant!” You spun around and yelled at the father.

“Mr. Barba, control your counsel,” The judge warned.

“Right,” Barba came up next to you and pulled your arm leading you to the desk.

“As I was saying,” You huffed, throwing daggers with your eyes at the disrupter. “Mr. Barba did nothing wrong and--”

“Actually Miss Y/L/N,” The judge interrupted you.

“Can I not finish a sentence?!” You muttered to yourself, Barba nudged you to shut up.

“As far as whether or not he did anything ‘wrong’ is for a jury to decide,”

“Exactly, your honor,” You nodded. “With a TRIAL, which my client would like,”

“He can’t do that! He already admitted to killing my son. He can't take it back!!!” The man was yelling again.

“Sir, I have zero qualms of sitting overnight in a jail cell for beating the absolute SHIT out of you,” You snapped, causing several people to gasp and chatter, the judge banged his gavel.

“MISS Y/L/N, I will hold you in contempt!”

“He started it!!!”

“Yeah and it looks like I finished it,” You heard him chuckle. You started to make a break for it over to him to make good on your promise, but Barba grabbed you by the waist.

“Alright I’m ending this madness before it gets out of hand,” The judge sighed. “Court will convene next Friday at 9 am,” He slammed his gavel and the man’s wife quickly hurried the man out of the room before you could duke it out.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Barba hissed at you.

“Me? That prick called you a murderer, Raf--Barba,” You tried to keep it business, no emotion, Keep calm. That was going to be hard with Olivia stomping up to the two of you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She barked.

“I’m sorry, did you not HEAR that bastard--?” You started a quip but were cut off by the detective.

“He’s the VICTIM!!!” It took a few seconds for it to register, but Olivia quickly realized what she said, looking at a shock and hurt Rafael. “I mean, he’s--”

“...And then the sky opened up and God said ‘Blessed be, Y/N,” You grinned, causing both of them to look at you in confusion.

“Now what are you on about?” Olivia asked, afraid of the answer.

“Well Olivia, for the VERY first time, I can say-- you’re not just my enemy anymore, you’re Rafael’s enemy too,” You smirked, using his first name to really rub it in.

“What? No, I’m not--”

“Really?” You scoffed with a laugh. “Would you like to repeat what you just said? Because I’m sure he is right now, over and over,” You nodded to Rafael who was still standing there with a hurt expression.

“Rafa you know I didn’t mean it like--” She went to put a hand on his shoulder but he moved back from her.

“Yeah, Liv,” He chuckled snidely. “I think you did,”

“And,” You added as you stepped in between them, protecting Rafael from her. “Regardless of your ‘feelings’,” You used air quotes with a sarcastic tone. “Your department is handling this case, is it not?

“....Maybe…” Olivia mumbled, looking over at Stone who was clearly waiting on her.

“Right,” You nodded. “So please, believe me when I say this” You got up in her face. “If you so much as even explain pleasantries with my client, I’ll have you arrested for trying to tamper with my case,”

“I...You...Rafa…?” Oliva stammered.

“Just...go, Olivia. Please,” Barba muttered sadly.

“Okay...I’m so sorry,” Olivia whispered with tears in her eyes as she walked away. You held back the urge to vomit in your mouth right there. You turned to give Barba a triumphant smile, but his pained expression almost looked worse than it had.

“Oh what now, droopy dog?” You crossed your arms.

“Thanks a lot,” He scoffed.

“You know you’re saying the right thing but not in the right tone,” You raised an eyebrow. “You should be thanking me for sticking up for you!”

“Sticking up for me?” He chuckled dryly. “By making an ass out of yourself? How do you think that makes me look?!”

“Oh come on Barba there were no jurors there--”

“But there were reporters! And what’s it gonna look like when the headline reads ‘Baby Killer’s Lawyer Calls Grieving Father a ‘ProLife PissAnt,’?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say, people don't have to like me, they have to like you!” You argued.

“Bullshit!” He scoffed with a sarcastic laugh. “Bullshit and you KNOW that!”

“Look I am the ONLY one here who knows you did nothing wrong--”

“Maybe I did!” He blurted rather loudly, then hushed his tone. “Maybe I did do something wrong,”

“Oh, uh uh, nope,” You wagged a finger and took him by the arm, into a corner of the courthouse.

“Look, Ba--Rafael,” You put both of your hands on his face and used his first name in a softer tone. “It doesn’t matter what Liv thinks, or what her labradoodle Stone thinks, it CERTAINLY doesn’t matter what that dad thinks,” You looked into his green eyes. “They can all think you’re the devil, and it wouldn’t matter. But the SECOND you start questioning your own innocence, this whole thing is going to fall apart,”

“Which is why I just wanted to take a punishment,” He looked down at the floor.

“Punish--for WHAT?!” You exclaimed with a confused look. “For unplugging a machine? Barba if that was illegal we’d ALL be in prison right now,”

“Look I know you may not care about human life but--” Rafael started but you cut him off.

“Uh uh. Nope. We’re not getting into this, but that ‘thing’?” You rolled your eyes. “That ‘thing’ was not a human being. And I’m gonna prove it,”

“How are you--”

“Spoilers, darling,” You smirked.

“Look...whatever ‘technicality’ you’re planning on using in court doesn’t make me feel any less guilty, okay? And you just took away the very LITTLE comforting support I have, so just--”

“Comforting support?!” You laughed sarcastically. “Oh right, because Olivia Benson calling you a murderer must have been SO comforting,”

“Look, Y/N. She’s still my friend. She would hold me and hug me and tell me it was okay, even if she did have a momentary lapse,”

“Oh that is SUCH--” You scoffed angrily. You grabbed his hand and stormed off towards the other end of the courthouse with him lagging behind you.

“What the hell?” He muttered, trying to keep up with you. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Well I am not about to do this with all those reporters just waiting for a juicy story,” You rolled your eyes as you spotted your destination. A sign read RESTROOMS-- It was a long dark corridor to the actual restrooms, and first up was a huge “room” labelled “FAMILY BATHROOM.”

“Get in,” You instructed him as you gave him a shove. You looked around to make sure no one had followed you and no one had seen you as you locked the door and turned to see a very confused Rafael.

Finally, when you were absolutely sure that you were safe from any sort of prying eyes, you dropped your act. Tears stung your eyes as you practically jumped into Rafael’s arms and kissed him, HARD. Caught off guard he stumbled for a moment, but then wrapped his arms around you so tight you could barely breathe; but you didn’t care. This was the first time you had kissed him, or any guy really, with actual feelings behind it. Real, true, deep feelings for each other. And it was blissful, just for that brief moment.

After several moments of you just standing there in his arms and crying into his shoulders, you pulled back and hit him on the chest.

“How could you be so STUPID?!”

“I’m sorry, what is happening here Mrs. Hyde?” Rafael asked.

“How could you let that bitch manipulate you to do her dirty work?”

“Wha--” Rafael’s eyes darted from you to the door to the distance, trying to figure out what was going on. “I’m sorry, were you trying to comfort me or punish me?”

“I don’t want you to go to prison for something someone ELSE should have done!” You started crying again. Rafael’s eyes softened as he realized your rage was masking your fear and sadness.

“Carino, I…” He put a hand to your face. “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have to be sorry about it, that’s my point,” You rolled your eyes with a sniffle.

“I mean, I’m sorry for everything else,” He looked into your eyes with sincerity. “I mean, I can’t believe after everything I’ve done to you, or that we’ve done to each other, that you still came down here and want to fight for me!”

“Yeah well….” You looked at the floor with a small smile. “I guess I do have a heart,”

“And it’s mine,” He took your face by the chin to look back up at him.

“Excuse me?” You half laughed.

“Say it,” He smiled.

“Ok fine I lo---no, you know what? No,” You shook your head.

“No?”

“No, I think I have told you how I felt MORE than enough since we’ve known each other, you haven’t said anything!” You threw your hands up.

“Wha-- I saved you from suffocating in that alleyway!” He argued. “I broke up with Liv for you, I-I-I BEGGED you to stay with me! On my KNEES,” He scoffed with a laugh. “You ever hear the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words?”

“Yeah no that saying is bullshit,” you shook your head.. “Words are louder than words. And if I’m going to hear those words for the first time I want to hear them from you,”

“Wait…” he blinked. “For the first time? EVER?”

“Oh God...here we go,” You scoffed, breaking from his embrace.

“Here we go, what?”

“I can just see the look in your eyes,”

“And what look is that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Like you’ve just solved a riddle,” You shook your head with a small sad smile. “Like now you’re thinking ‘oh THAT’S why she is the way she is! Because nobody loved her as a kid!’,”

“No that’s not--”

“It totally is! You’re probably so relieved that’s there an actual reason that I’m so broken inside, that I wasn’t just BORN evil,”

“Hey,” This time he took your head in his hands. “You are not evil and you are NOT broken,”

“Yeah, I am,” You muttered softly as you looked at the floor again.

“Well then I will make it my mission to put you back together, Sharky,” He moved your face back up and kissed you gently. Your soul lit up at the sound of your previously resentful nickname. Now it sounded like the highest compliment coming out of his mouth so playfully.

“Yeah well first I have to fix this,” You gestured back towards the courthouse.

“Well, I’m sorry about that too,” He apologized sadly.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Rafael! You didn’t--”

“Look, baby I get that you don’t think so, and maybe technically it’s true, but I still feel guilty,” He shrugged.

“I just…” You sighed and pulled him back into your body. “I don’t want to watch you hurt like this,”

Rafael had no idea what to say to that kind expression, so he just pulled back into him and kissed your forehead. You let him hold you for just a moment, and then started to unlock the door. But something inside made you pause, and you let go of the door handle to face Rafael.

“...What is it, Sharky?”

“Look, Rafa,” You told him seriously. “We need to establish boundaries, right here and now,”

“Boundaries?” He asked.

“Distinction,” you clarified. “This girl,” You gestured to yourself. “This girl right here in this bathroom, is ‘Sharky’,”

“Which is why I just said that,” He joked.

“Yeah but,” You put a hand on his chest. “When we walk out of here, I’ll be just the shark defending you,”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning,” You took a deep breath. “You’re not going to like what I do in court, I already know that,”

“Y/N come on don’t lie for me--”

“I’m not going to lie,” You assured him. “But I am going to be aggressive with facts, and probably mock all emotion involved in it,”

“...I already don’t like this,” He had a worried look on his face.

“Yeah, baby I know but…” You took his hands in yours. “Do you want to be NICE, or do you want to go HOME, and not to prison?”

“Home, I suppose,” He mumbled sadly.

“Exactly,” you kissed his cheek. “Look the parents brought this on themselves, if they can’t deal with the shame that’s not on me, or you,”

“What? Y/N you’re not going to go after the--” He tried to argue with you, but you put a finger to his lips.

“No, I’M not going to do anything,” You reminded him. “But the shark will do anything to keep you from going to prison,” You pulled him into one last passionate kiss, knowing it would have to last you for a bit. You unlocked the door and turned to him one last time and added:

“By any means necessary,” Before sauntering out the door.

This trial should be fun….

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #sharky #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

the much anticipated second part for the amnesia-related fic.

A wedding ring.

This doesn’t mean that he and Tony are married except that he hasn’t seen Tony with a wedding ring and he hasn’t mentioned a wife and he doesn’t sound like he has a wife and if Rhodey-if Jim had a wife, then wouldn’t he know about her? Wouldn’t they have met by now? He may not know Tony yet, but he doesn’t think that he would be that cruel.

“Colonel Rhodes-”

“Friday, don’t,” Jim says, swatting at the air. “What-why did you hide that from me?”

“Sir believed it would be best,” Friday answers, tone almost quieter. “He...wasn’t sure that you would understand.”

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why would I marry him of all people? He’s not exactly my type.”

“Since I am a learning program, I cannot say for sure. Humans do a lot of illogical things.”

He’s trying to wrap his head around it and avoid Tony at the same time.

Friday won’t let him see any wedding pictures, not until he remembers more.

Even though he’s been (mostly) successful at avoiding Tony for about a week and a half, the man is still so nice.

He’s still operating under the assumption that Jim has no idea that they’re married, and he does stuff like leave out a cup of coffee and offer breakfast up or ask if he wants pizza for dinner.

Jim reads too much into it.

And he doesn’t know why, because it’s not like anything has really changed, except for the fact that Tony won’t call him Rhodey.

Jim gave him permission to, saw how much it killed him with every correction and every reminder. Told him “you can call me Rhodey, if you want.”

And he doesn’t.

Tony never does.

He still almost says it, but Jim is quicker on the tongue, and he doesn’t make a move to try to push any memories at all.

(Even though he remembers how happy Tony was to hear that memory about grocery shopping and Dum-E’s code source.)

He does want to remember. He wants to remember why he apparently married Tony and was genuine about it, why Pepper and him are best friends and never were anything more, why he’s...why he’s so different from what he wanted.

Tony knows that Jim’s acting differently. He’s not sure why. He’s not sure he wants to know why, because that might complicate everything.

And he doesn’t want another thing to be wrong. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him except for the one damn person that probably should be, but Rhodey’s never been good at following rules. (But he’s good at fooling people.)

Pepper talks to Tony a lot. Asks him how he’s doing, if there’s anything she can do.

Repair someone’s memory is a little bit outside of her area of expertise.

“It’ll be okay,” she says, putting her tiny hand over his. “Things will work out.”

They both know that in Tony’s life, luck has never been quite what it seems. Or existent at all, at times.

Ironically, it’s their anniversary of the wedding when Jim remembers something else. It actually comes in the form of looking in the fridge and not finding his apples.

“Quit leaving honey-crisp off of the list just because you don’t like them you asshole,” he calls to Tony.

Tony almost yelps.

“Out of everything in your life and that’s what you remember? Your stupidly sweet apples?”

“Are you gonna get them?”

“Why don’t you come with me?” Tony asks, “just so that you can get your apples and maybe get out of the house for once.”

“Hmph. Fine,” Jim answers. “Where’s my coat?”

“Uh...” Tony trails off, trying to find the words. “Third peg on the...right, I think?”

“You’ve known me for years, and you don’t know where my coat is?”

Rhodey is always the one to hang up his coat, and then put his arms out for Tony’s.

“To be fair, I am important and fancy and a big deal,” Tony scoffs. “Come on, go get your coat and then I’m going to show you what horrible things you buy from the store.”

“It’s not that bad. And what, you don’t like good apples?”

“As sour as can be, sourpatch. As sour as can be.”

Grocery shopping with Tony is...interesting. He didn’t think it would take so long.

“This is why you don’t usually come,” Tony teases him. “I take so long and you end up sitting in the car and cursing at Pepper or Happy about how much time I spend dedicated to snack-judging.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You do,” Tony says, grabbing the cart. “Because you love me and you deal with a lot worse from me.”

“Like what?”

“Best not to talk about it,” Tony says. “We’re in public after all, honey.”

“Ugh, boo,” Rhodey teases. “Give me the list. I bet I can speed-run this.”

“How? Technically, you don’t think you’ve ever been to this store before!” Tony exclaims with a gigantic, shit-eating grin.

“Way to rub it in you bastard,” he says with a laugh. “Now come on, I wanna see what kind of salad you think we’re gonna get.”

“Not you thinking you’re going to be eating junk food,” Tony sighs.

“I lost my memory!”

“That would’ve worked, like, two weeks ago. Now I know better.”

Grocery shopping is...fun. They make fun of foods and different products, and Tony shows him which things he might like.

“I like...I like fruit salad?”

“Yes, yes you do Rhodey-dear,” Tony says. “Your favorite thing in the world for fruit.”

“Seems suspicious.”

“You’ll have to try it again, then.”

Rhodey watches him as they’re shopping. He’s easy to be around, honestly. He has that sort of energy that makes you feel like he’s just happy to be in that moment.

Tony also has very questionable taste in everything.

“Quinoa?”

“What? You’ve eaten it before! It’s not your least favorite thing that I’ve cooked?”

“How is it not? Is it because I’m old?”

“No, not because you’re old,” Tony scowls. “When you’d come back from the service, you’d eat literally anything I put in front of you. I once gave you a block of cheese and you just sat there. Eating it.”

“There’s no way I did that.”

“You did! Ask Pepper, she has a picture of it!”

He goes back to quiet after that, remembering the picture.

Jim isn’t even sure he wants to bring it up. He’s not even sure if he could love Tony again, and somehow that thought makes his head hurt.

He knows that apparently, he fell in love once.

So he needs answers.

Jim had talked to his parents, but he hadn’t really had an opportunity to talk about anything important. Try as he had to get more information out of them, they weren’t giving much up, except for parts about his military achievements and funny stories that he’s written to them about.

When he gets back home and he sees Mama, she knows.

“Come here baby,” she says, putting him into her arms. “Let me answer your questions.”

“Why him?”

Mama laughs, grinning up at him from her place on the couch.

“You reacted like this when you first started rooming together, too. I was worried that I’d be involved in a court case for attempted murder!”

“And you weren’t?”

“No,” Mama answers. “Instead, I get no phone call from you for three weeks, until the day before your holiday break started, and you told me that you were bringing who you used to call ‘the biggest nuisance since fruit flies’ home to Thanksgiving.”

“Why did I...why did I bring him?”

“I didn’t get that answered until he fell asleep,” she says. “I’m making you some coffee, alright dear?”

“Okay, so long as I get an answer.”

“So impatient,” she mutters as she makes her way to the kitchen, Jim following.

He watches how easily his mom pours the coffee, and remembers in a brief flash that Tony always would bring the fancy, flavored creamer to the holiday events.

“Oh come on,” Tony said. “You have gotten too used to my kindness, and there’s no reason to stop being kind. Besides, remember last year when you nearly cried because I bought creamer from the store? Yeah, not having a repeat of that.”

“And would that be so bad?” he teased Tony, wrapping an arm around his waist, and-

He blinks.

That was...that was definitely a new kind of memory.

“James, are you alright?” His mother is looking at him, and maybe she knows, maybe she doesn’t know that he just remembered something. He’s honestly not sure.

“Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m good.”

Mama looks across the room, smiling.

“He was a timid little thing when he got here. Fixed up the washing machine when it broke, just in time. Nearly wore a suit to dinner, said you didn’t tell him what kind of ‘casual’ we were going for...”

He snorts as he slowly remembers that one.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean a suit?!” Tony had wailed, gripping Rhodey’s shirt. “You said I had to dress nice!”

“I meant literally anything but your Black Sabbath shirt!”

“Why would I have worn my Black Sabbath shirt? Your mom would probably think I was a Satanist!”

They both look at each other for a moment, and Rhodey’s the first one to break and laugh.

“Listen you idiot, it won’t be so bad. We can just ditch the coat, ditch the tie, and you’ll be...okay. A bit nicer than most of us, but hey. That’s what I get for not telling you that suits are weird.”

“Suits are not weird, you’re just uneducated in what is sophisticated,” Tony says, turning his nose up as Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, sure, because knowing which one is the dessert spoon is going to help me save people abroad. My bad.”

Tony looks back at him, and his heart skips a beat. It does. Really, it does.

It almost feels like someone’s reading back to him what he already knows at this point.

His mom squeezes his hand, smiling.

“You remember at least some of it, don’t you?”

“Well...uh, yeah? I-I do.”

“Does Tony know that you know that you’re...married?”

“No,” Rhodey says. “I know some, but not enough.”

“Give him a chance,” she says. “And get back home, I’m sure he’s missing you.”

Rhodey embraces his mother, and prepares for the drive home.

Being missed is a weird concept to deal with.

He also did not exactly think of that. So he’s currently driving back and checked his phone to seven missed calls from Tony, three from Pepper, and one text from Happy that simply reads “lol ur dead hahaha good luckkkkk”

Well shit.

Tony, understandably is pissed and scared and a tad upset.

Not a tad.

“Where were you?” He says as soon as Rhodey appears back in the kitchen. Tony’s hands wander close, and he almost leans in.

Almost.

“I was visiting my parents,” he responds. “Sorry, forgot to text.”

“Please remember next time, your-well, Tony’s annoying when you leave,” Pepper says.

(Okay Rhodey doesn’t know how they got away with this for so long, it’s really, really obvious that they’ve been covering it up.)

“I will,” Rhodey says. “Did I miss anything?”

“I’ve elected that we’re going to cook tonight,” Tony declares. “I am absolutely sick to death of takeout, and I’m pretty sure that with your lack of knowledge on recipes now, I have you beat in the kitchen.”

“I can still read recipes, you dumbass. Besides, I just remembered your stupid ‘bake’ hack for your stupid casserole dish, so...”

“Out of everything, and that’s the thing you remember today?!”

“Well, I also remembered that apparently you wore a suit to my house for Thanksgiving!”

Tony stops.

“What else you remember from that, or was it just that?”

He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Pepper, doesn’t want to say anything just yet.

“I remember that you were weird about your suit!”

Tony deflates a bit, but still smiles.

God, he looks gorgeous.

Rhodey blinks. Shakes his head out of the thought.

“So. What are we cooking?”

Tony and cooking is a very interesting concept because it shouldn’t work.

He never stops moving, can lose interest quickly, and Rhodey would think that he could burn water.

But he doesn’t. Tony hums along to music, and he tells him all about his favorite songs and why.

It’s not any rock music, any heavy metal.

“I don’t listen to that all the time,” Tony says. “You always think I do!”

“Oh right, because someone who personally has Angus Young’s number just casually isn’t someone who listens to the band all the time, sure,” Rhodey says sarcastically.

Tony grins, and it’s probably the best damned thing he’s seen all day.

His heart zings at the realization that Tony smiling is what makes him smile now, what makes him want to stay and learn so much more about how they came to be, what they’ve done together.

Dinner is fun. Tony tells him all about college and what they used to do, and what Rhodey had done.

Memories are coming back easier.

“You totally emailed the professor really petty responses!” Tony cries, laughing.

“It wasn’t that petty,” Rhodey said, huffing. “He was an asshole anyway, he hated whenever we would come late because we wanted coffee, and your order was too complicated!”

“It wasn’t that complicated!”

“Oh I’m sorry, them having it written down behind the register for when you come in?”

“Oh, like they didn’t have a description of you.”

“Yeah, as your long-suffering companion,” Rhodey teases.

“You’ve always been,” Tony says. “Because you’re the best.”

Rhodey stops stirring the pot for a moment.

“Rhodey? What is it?”

“I...”

Tony stands there, grinning. He’s nervously fidgeting, and it’s his move to say the vows.

“You know, I wasn’t ever sure you’d be up to marrying someone like me,” Tony confesses. “Especially since I almost burned down our dorm room one time.”

“Wasn’t just one time,” Rhodey teases. “But carry on.”

“You loser,” Tony says. “Even now, interrupting my heartfelt moment.”

There’s a ripple of laughter from the small crowd that’s gathered. Rhodey smiles at him, feels tears prick up around his eyes.

“But I knew that I loved you ever since you would always buy my favorite ramen even though you hated it, and you were the one to get the pizza when I was sad. I knew I wanted the chance of seeing you every day, coming home to you at the end of the day. You’re home, Rhodey. You’re it. No one else could ever possibly hold a candle compared to you.”

Rhodey startles, looking at Tony.

“I...I remember. I remember!”

“Remember what?” Tony asks cautiously.

(He can’t be let down. Not again.)

“You smashed cake in my face at our wedding!” Rhodey yells. “And we got married! We got married! Where the fuck is my ring?”

Tony laughs, scooping Rhodey into a hug.

“I can’t believe you remember.”

“Well I was bound to at some point,” Rhodey says. “I can be smart, doofus.”

“Don’t call me ‘doofus’ during an emotional outburst you absolute nimrod!”

“I’ll call my husband whatever I want,” he teases, “although I still wanna know where my ring is.”

“Come with me and get it,” Tony says. “I hid them in my room, just in case.”

It’s all coming back, the steps they take, the way that Tony supports him as he moves slower.

Iron Man, for one. War Machine the next. The dates they went on, the proposal.

The rings are simple. They’re also not wedding rings.

The class rings.

Rhodey remembers getting them, remembers getting his initials and Tony’s on the inside, remembers how Tony made some “adjustments” after they received them.

“You know that you got me,” Tony had told him.

It slides on, and it feels right. Feels like something was missing.

He looks up at Tony, smiling.

“Show me the pictures, Tony.”

Pepper walks in to find Rhodey absolutely terrorizing Tony about the decor choices from the reception.

“So I agreed with red and gold? I had no problem with it?”

“Well, I did do some major convincing, so...”

“What does that mean?!”

"You’ll remember later and be sad,” Pepper says. “Or happy. But please don’t tell me if you remember it.”

“You loved the color scheme,” Tony says. “Because you love me!”

“Now I am doubting,” Rhodey declares. “I loved you enough to have those colors?”

“You lost a bet, Boss,” Friday interjects. “That’s why there were those themes.”

“Friday,” Tony whines. “Why snitch on your creator like this?”

“I am not programmed to have loyalty, Sir.”

Rhodey laughs, taking Tony’s hand in his.

“Well, I guess I’ll still love you. Even if our wedding theme was weird.”

“It wasn’t that weird!”

It takes about another month before all of the memories are all back to normal, and in that time Rhodey learns (and relearns) a couple of things:

1.) The best feeling in the world is waking up to Tony, who sleeps very lightly and also wacked Rhodey in the face a total of ten times. (That’s not a new thing, he remembers.)

2.) He special-orders peppermint-flavored coffee creamer.

3.) Tony was lying when he said that Rhodey’s new favorite movie was The Goonies.

(He mostly forgave him for that one.)

#lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #part two!#rhodey has amnesia #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #also yes the use of 'jim' in the beginning and then transitioning to rhodey a bit is intentional #sorry if it is a bit confusing but i like how i formatted that one so that's what we're getting with this one #i hope you all like it!

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

How about those JL storyboards?

In case you haven’t heard, Zack Snyder is putting on display the ‘storyboards’ - i.e. a rough plot summary accompanied by some Jim Lee sketches - for what would have been Justice League 2 and 3, or as this puts it 2 and ‘2A’. You can see them here (I imagine better-quality versions will soon be released), and read a transcript here. This is evidently a very early version: this was apparently pitched prior to the release of BvS and Justice League being rewritten in the wake of it, with numerous plot details that now don’t line up with what we know about the Snyder Cut, plus it outright mentions it builds on the originally planned versions of the Batman and Flash movies. But it’s a broad outline of what was gonna go down, and while I initially thought it was Snyder throwing in the towel, the timing - paired with the ambiguity left by the necessity for changes, including that this doesn’t factor whatever that “massive cliffhanger” at the end of the Cut is - says to me he’s hoping this’ll be a force multiplier behind efforts to will sequel/s into existence. He’s probably right.

I’ll be discussing spoilers below, but in short: with this Zack Snyder has finally lived up to Alan Moore, in that like Twilight of the Superheroes I wouldn’t believe this was real as opposed to a shockingly on-point parody if not for direct, irrefutable evidence.

Doing some rapid-fire bullet points for this baby to kick us off:

* Folks who know the subject say a lot of this is a yet further continuation of Snyder doing Arthuriana fanfic with the League reskinned over those major players, and I’ll take their word for it.

* I don’t know whether I love or hate that in Justice League 2 the Justice League are only an extant thing for the first scene, and then it’s Snyder giving everybody their own mini-movies. It’s compressing the entire MCU “loosely interconnected solo stories leading to a single big movie later” strategy into a single movie!

* Funniest line in the whole thing: "Even Lantern has heard of the Kryptonian, worried that he's under the control of Darkseid. He heard his spirit was unbreakable." Hal what fuckin' Superman movie did YOU watch? Second funniest being “IT WILL GIVE HIM POWER OVER ALL LIVING LIFE”

* 90% of the plot I have nothing to say about, it’s generic stage-setting crap. That to be clear is the ‘shocked it’s Snyder’ element, it feels so crassly commercial in a way I can’t believe is coming from the BvS guy.

* Most of what I have to say is unsurprisingly gonna be about a handful of characters but Cyborg’s happy ending being “he isn’t visibly disabled anymore!” is not great!

* The Goddess of War battle with Superman...never pays off? No clue why it’s there.

* What I’d originally heard was that the Codex in Superman’s blood was the last key to the Anti-Life Equation and that’s why Darkseid was coming to Earth. It’s not like all of this wouldn’t have already been averted by Kal-El’s pod smacking into an asteroid on the way to Earth so it’s not as if this makes it any more Superman’s fault, and it would have at least tied all this back to the beginning of the movies, but I suppose that was either fake or from a later draft.

* I have NO idea how this was reimagined without the ‘love triangle’, it’s the central character thing and the entire climax flows directly out of it!

* Darkseid’s kinda a chump in this, huh

Anonymous said: So: Does Zack Snyder hate Superman?

Look: the hilarity of this when Cuck Kent has been a go-to Snyder cult insult towards ‘inferior’ takes on Superman for years cannot be understated, yet at the same time I can almost wrap my brain around where Snyder’s coming from with that as the end for his take on the character. He talked in that Variety piece on how his interest in Superman is informed by having adopted children himself, and Deborah Snyder is the stepmother to his kids by previous relationships, so I can see where he’d be coming from, and I can even imagine how he’d see this as ‘rhyming’ in the sense of “the series begins with Kal-El being adopted by Earth, it ends with him adopting a child of Earth!” In the same way as MARTHA, I can envision how he would put these pieces together in his head thematically without registering or caring what the end result would actually look like. In this case, Superman raising the kid of the man who beat the shit out of him who Batman had with Clark’s wife, who earlier told Bruce she was staying with Clark because he ‘needed her’, suggesting if inadvertently that this really honest to god was a “she’s only staying with Superman out of pity, she really loved Batman more” thing.

But Clark is nothing in this. He’s sad and existential because of coming back from the dead I guess, then he’s corrupted, then time’s undone and he woo-rah rallies the collective armies of the world (interesting angle for the ‘anti-military/anti-establishment’ Superman he’s talked up as) as his big heroic moment in the finale, and then he stops being sad because he’s adopting a kid. So his big much-ballyhooed, extremely necessary five-movie character arc towards truly becoming Superman was:

Sad weird kid -> sad weird kid learns he’s an alien, is still weird and sad, maybe he shouldn’t save people because things could go really wrong? -> his dad is so convinced it could go wrong he lets himself die -> ????? -> Clark is saving people anyway -> learns his origin, gets an inspiring speech about being a bridge between worlds and a costume -> becomes superman (not Superman, that’s later) to save the world, albeit a very property-damagey version, rejects his heritage he just learned about and space dad’s bridge idea -> folks hate him being superman and that sucks though at least he’s got a girlfriend now -> things go so wrong he considers not being superman but his ghost dad reminds him shit always goes wrong so he should be good anyway, which sorta feels like it contradicts his previous advice -> immediate renewed goodness is out the window as he’s blackmailed into having to try and kill a dude but the dude happens to coincidentally have some things in common so they don’t kill each other after all -> big monster now but superman keeps supermaning at it because he loves his girlfriend and he dies -> he’s brought back, wears black which apparently means now he likes Krypton again? -> he has work friends now but he’s still sad because he was dead -> evil now! -> wait nevermind time travel -> rallies the troops -> his wife’s having a kid so he’s not sad anymore -> Superman! Who gives way to more Batman.

Do I think Zack Snyder is lying when he says he likes Superman? No. I think he sincerely finds much of the basic conceits and imagery engaging. But I don’t think he meaningfully gives shit about Clark as a character, just a vessel for Big Iconic Beats he wants to hit. Whereas while for instance he’s critical of Batman as an idea (at least up to a point), he’s much more passionately, directly enamored with him as a presence and personality. So while Superman may be the character whose ostensible myth cycle or arc or however it’s spun might be propelling a lot of events here, it’s a distant appreciation - of course the other guy takes over and subsumes him into his own narrative. Of course Batman is the savior, the past and the future (though if he’s supposed to be Batman’s kid raised by Superman there’s no excuse for him not to be Nightwing), the tragic martyr to our potential. Admittedly the implication here is also that Batman can apparently only REALLY with his whole heart be willing to sacrifice his life to save an innocent, for that matter apparently his great love, once said innocent is a receptacle for his Bat-brood, but he and Clark are both already irredeemable pieces of shit by the end of BvS so it’s not like this even registers by comparison.

Anonymous said: That “plan” Snyder had was utter dogshit. Picture proof that DC & WB hate Superman. Also I love how you’re like Jor-El: Every single idealistic take you had about Snyder, his fandom, and BvS was wrong. Snyder’s an edgy hack, his fanbase just wants to jerk off to their edgy self-insert Batgod as he screams FUCK while mowing people down with machine guns, and the idea that BvS said Superman was better than Bats was completely wrong. You know what comes next SuperMann: Either you die or I do.

In the final analysis, beyond that mother of god is there sure no conceivable excuse for the treatment of Lois in this? The temptation is to join that anon and say as I originally tweeted that these were “built entirely to disabuse every single redemptive reading of the previous work and any notion of these movies as nuanced, artistic, self-reflective, or meaningful”.

...

...yeah, okay, that’s mostly right. Zack Snyder’s vision really was the vision of an edgelord idiot with bad ideas who was never going to build up to anything that would reframe it all as a sensible whole. He’s a sincere edgelord genuinely trying really hard with his bad ideas who put some of them together quite cleverly! But they’re fucking bad and the endgame was never anything more than ramping up into smashing the action figures together as big as he could, the political overtones and moral sketchiness of BvS while trying to say something in that movie reverberated through the grand scheme of his pentalogy in no way beyond giving his boys a big sad pit to rise out of so when they kicked ass later it’d rule harder, and all the gods among men questions and horror and trappings were only that: trappings. Apparently he’s really pleasant and well-meaning in person, but at his core his art as embodied in a couple weeks in his 4-hour R-rated Justice League movie meant to be seen in black-and-white all comes down to that time he yelled at someone on Twitter that he couldn’t appreciate Snyder’s work because it’s for grown-ups. He made half-clever, occasionally exciting shit cape movies for a bunch of corny pseudo-intellectual douchebags, folks latching onto and justifying blockbusters that at least acknowledge how horrifying the world is right now even if the superheroes are basically useless in the face of it if not outright part of the problem until a convenient alien invasion shows up to justify them, and a handful of non-asshole smart people who vibe with it but...well. ‘Suckered’ is a harsh word, and definitely doesn’t apply to all of them re: what they’ve gotten out of it up to this point and would (somehow) get out of this. But it doesn’t apply to none of them, either.

#Justice League #Zack Snyder #Superman #Batman #DCEU #Opinion

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sofreddie · 3 years

Text

Serendipitous Souls 5

Summary: Now that Chuck's requirements are fulfilled, will Dean still want her?

Characters: Dean x OC!Reader, Sam

Warnings: Light Angst, Pregnancy, Fluff

Word Count: 1,571

A/N: This part just makes me laugh. Sam's cool AF and it's so domestic it kills me.

Y/N sighs. Her body feels amazing after the most incredible sex she's ever experienced. But her head…her head is a freaking mine field at the moment. She forces herself from the bed, using the tissues from the nightstand to clean herself up before redressing. Once done, she sits on the end of the bed, nervously waiting for Dean's return and wondering what will happen to her now.

Will Dean give her her own room?

Will there be an awkward ‘thanks, that was fun’ or something along those lines?

Does this mean she’s pregnant now?

Dean re-entered the room as she was deep in thought, causing her to jump in surprise at the sudden opening of the door.

“Is Sam okay?” she asks straight away and it makes Dean’s heart swell to see that she really cares so much.

“He is,” Dean nods, closing the door behind him, feeling his own trepidation at the situation, “Chuck popped up. Said it’s done. Pretty sure he’ll pop up again at some point though,” he chuckled humorlessly, easing himself to sit on the mattress next to her.

“So…am I-” she couldn’t quite vocalize the words at the moment, but her hand on her stomach told Dean enough.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, giving him a small smile. Sam had said all arranged marriages probably started out awkward as hell and that Dean should be patient and take it a day at a time. “Do you need anything?” he tried, hating how pathetic and lost he sounded.

“I’m pretty tired,” she responded meekly. Dean fought the urge to make a comment about tiring her out.

“Come on,” he said, getting up and throwing back the covers for them. She stood and watched as he removed his pants, leaving his boxers and t-shirt on. He laid in the bed and patted the empty side, encouraging her to join him. She smiled and crawled in beside him, accepting his silent offer to cuddle into his side as his arm came down around her, holding her close.

“I’ll be good to you,” Dean whispered against the top of her head, placing a gentle kiss there, “I promise.”

“I know,” she hummed in response, letting the warmth and comfort of Dean lull her into sleep.

Dean woke slowly, his eyelids fluttering open as he came to consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he just…woke up. Usually he was woken by something or someone or a nightmare, jolting him into consciousness. As his eyes focused, he realized Y/N was still beside him. In fact he was wrapped around her snugly, spooning her from behind. She was so warm and soft in his arms. He leaned his forehead against the back of her head, taking a deep breath to take in her scent and humming in satisfaction. He could definitely get used to waking up this way.

He placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before carefully unwrapping himself from her. She grunted a little and rolled onto her stomach, settling back into her slumber. Dean grinned and climbed from the bed, deciding to make coffee and breakfast before she woke.

Throwing on clean jeans and a new t-shirt, Dean made his way down the hall, grinning to himself the whole way as he thought about Y/N, their bond, the sex, and that she was expecting. It was a lot to take in and a lot could go wrong. But he still couldn’t take the happy grin from his face, or his heart.

“Morning,” Sam greeted from the kitchen table as Dean sauntered into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Dean responded, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a few gulps before heading to the fridge and pulling out items to make breakfast.

“Y/N still sleeping?” Sam asked and Dean nodded with a hum, “So…what now?”

“Back to the usual I guess,” Dean shrugged.

“Dean,” Sam chastised, “You’re married now,” he paused, waiting for a reaction from his brother who stayed stubbornly focused on cooking, “You have a wife, your soulmate,” he emphasized, “A-and a freakin’ baby on the way.”

“Oh, I’m very much aware,” Dean flashed a smirk over his shoulder. A long silence stretched out between them as Dean finished fixing up a simple breakfast, before leaning against the counter and finally facing his brother, “Do you think maybe I should take some time, like maybe a honeymoon or something?”

“Really?” Sam said in surprise, his brows risen to his hairline, “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s a great idea actually.”

“Do you think we can?” Dean then asked dejectedly, “It’s not like we ever have time to vacation or anything-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Sam interrupted, “We’ve dropped everything to drive for days to go to a game or go fishing or whatever. We’ve dropped everything so many times, for so many reasons, work or not. This is definitely one of those times where you need to drop everything. She’s not even from here. Her whole existence has just changed overnight. Yours too for that matter. You two need time to talk, to connect, to get to know one another.”

“You know I can’t quit, right?” Dean said after a beat, him and Sam exchange a long look. Y/N walked into the kitchen then - more like stumbled like a zombie with messy hair and half-open eyes. Two sets of eyes landed on her and warm smiles adorned the brother’s faces.

“Morning Y/N,” Sam chirped happily. She narrowed her eyes at him slightly, giving him barely a head nod, before shuffling to the coffee machine and making a cup. She plopped down at the kitchen table and began drinking her coffee in silence.

“Not a morning person, eh?” Dean chuckled as he took the seat beside her, across from his brother.

“I miss my bed,” she grumbled into her cup. Sam laughed and Dean’s brows furrowed.

“My bed is awesome,” he defended, “It’s memory foam!”

Y/N snorted at that, smiling dopily at him before focusing back on her coffee.

“It’s not bad,” she told him, “My bed is just taller, higher off the ground. It’s bigger, a queen. And it’s a firm mattress with a four inch memory foam topper,” she grins at him, “It’s just a little bit more…inviting.” she shrugged.

“You two should go bed shopping,” Sam suggested casually. Two heads simultaneously snapped in his direction, equal looks of embarrassment on their faces. Sam snorted, “You’re married,” he reminded the two of them with a grin like he was talking to children, “Are you not gonna ‘move in together’? Go bed shopping and get something that you both like.”

“We haven’t really talked about that yet, Sam,” Dean said through gritted teeth.

“Okay, well…do you want to sleep together?”

“Sam!”

“Do you?”

Y/N and Dean looked at each other and blushed. Dean smiled warmly at her, “Yeah,” he said, looking at Sam again, “We do.”

“Then go buy a bed!” Sam laughed, standing from the table, “And go on a honeymoon,” he shouted over his shoulder as he left the kitchen.

“A honeymoon?” Y/N laughed, meeting Dean’s eyes once more as he sat beside her. Her matched her smile, a hand coming to rest casually on her thigh.

“Yeah. You want?” He wiggled his brows at her, biting his bottom lip as she blushed hard and giggled.

“That could be fun,” she agreed with a nod, finishing off her coffee, “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed, taking a moment to refill their mugs and rejoining Y/N at the table, his hand finding her thigh once more, “I never really thought about a honeymoon. Never thought I’d have one.” She hummed in response, “What did you do on yours?”

“I’ve never had a honeymoon.”

“But you were married.”

“Doesn’t mean I had a honeymoon.”

Dean pouted in thought. He didn’t like that.

“But you had a wedding, right?” He was suddenly feeling guilty. They were married, but they didn’t have a wedding. He was in dirty, rumpled clothes and she was in pajamas. Shit, she was still in pajamas. He’d have to give her a change of clothes, take her shopping.

“No. Just a simple thing, like what we did.”

“A dress?”

“No.” she shook her head and laughed a little, “Why does that bother you?”

“Because you should have those things,” he shrugged, shaking his head. “So what do you want to do? Where do you want to go?” he asked, trying to bring them back to happy conversation, “Whatever you want, we’ll do it.”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “With you?” she smirked, “Probably a long road trip in Baby, some stops at cabins, beachside cottages, romantic B and B’s,” she giggled, blushing at him. Dean couldn’t help it. He crashed his lips into hers hungrily and she opened up to him, giving back in kind.

“Is that really what you want or you just saying that for me?” he breathed against her lips.

“That’s what I want with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and stealing a kiss of her own, “Don’t you?”

“Whatever you want,” he promised, kissing her again. This whole thing was new and exciting and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Dean forced himself from the kiss, focusing them on eating. His mind was whirling with thoughts and plans. But it all started in one place.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

Serendipitous Souls:

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@xhannahbananax03

@440mxs-wife

@crist1216

@deans-baby-momma

#serendipitous souls #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader insert #fluff #spn #supernatural

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch50- I Got My Second Chance Right Here

Intro: After talking with Scott, Steve and Katie find themselves facing the possibility that there may be a way to undo Thanos’ actions and bring everyone they lost back. Only Tony isn’t on board with the idea and once more Katie finds herself in the middle of the two most important men in her life...

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: As always, huge shout out to my reposting partner- @angrybirdcr

Chapter 49

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Man am I glad to see you.” Scott clasped Steve’s hand in his as soon as the gate was open, pumping it up and down furiously.

“We thought you’d been snapped.” Steve took a deep breath, frowning as he looked the man up and down. “You are really here right? This isn’t’ some kind of weird mind trick or…” “Yeah, I am now. I mean, not that I wasn’t, but well, no I kinda wasn’t.” Scott took a deep breath. “It’s really hard to explain but…”

“Well we got time to listen.” Steve smiled, reassuringly “Come on.”

Scott nodded, fired up his van and drove through the gates whilst Steve locked them again, before he climbed in his car, spun it round and drove, Scott following, round to the parking area. Steve led Scott through the facility and into the room they had been sat in where Katie was settling Jamie on the sofa at the other end of the room.

“You stay here, okay?” Katie smoothed Jamie’s hair softly with her hand. He nodded and pulled on his headphones, tablet clamped in his hand as he began to watch Dumbo for what must have been the nine-hundredth time. Casting one more look at him over her shoulder, Katie walked over to where Steve and Natasha were stood, watching a very distressed Scott pacing in front of them, mumbling to himself.

Steve and Natasha shared a look, before Steve looked to his wife and she nodded her head in Scott’s direction, encouraging him to open the dialogue.

“Scott?” Steve spoke.“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” Scott said in a tone that indicated he was anything but. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it again, before he pressed his fingers into his eye sockets clearly struggling with what it was he needed to say. Eventually he took a deep breath and looked around the room. "Have you ever studied quantum physics?”

Katie shook her head, as did Steve.

"Only to make conversation,” Natasha shrugged.

Scott pointed to Natasha. “Alright, so, five years ago, right before…Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. The Quantum Realm is like its own microscopic universe. To get in there, you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my… she was my…” He took a deep breath, struggling to quell the emotion that was brewing in his voice. “And then Thanos happened, and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry.” Katie shook her head, sympathetically. “That must have been a very long five years

"Yeah, but that’s just it. It wasn’t. For me it was five hours.”

Steve frowned.

“See, the rules of the Quantum Realm aren’t like they are up here. Everything’s unpredictable.” Scott continued as Steve looked from Katie to Natasha, both of them wearing expressions which were a cross between curiosity and contemplation.

“Is that anybody’s sandwich?” Scott asked, pointing at the plate on the table “I’m starving.” As he strode over to pick up the remainder of Nat’s peanut butter sandwich, Steve shook his head slightly, still not understanding what this had to do with anything.

"Scott, what are you talking about?” he asked, prompting him to get back on track.

“What I’m saying is, time works differently in the Quantum Realm.” Scott spoke trough a mouthful of peanut butter and bread before he hastily swallowed “The only problem is right now, we don’t have a way to navigate it. But what if we did?”

He began to pace again and Katie cocked her head to the side slightly, watching him as he gestured wildly with the hand holding the peanut butter sandwich.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. What if we could somehow control the chaos, and we could navigate it? What if there was a way that we could enter the Quantum Realm at a certain point in time but then exit at another point in time? Like…” He paused taking a breath as he looked at the 3 faces in front of him. “Like before Thanos.”

"Wait.” Katie held up a hand to stop him, her voice laced with scepticism. “Are you talking about a time machine?”

“No. No of course not. No, not a time machine, it’s more like a…” Scott trailed off and looked down before he shrugged. “Yeah like a time machine.”

Steve took a deep breath and shared a glance with Katie, both of them raising an eyebrow. Steve let out a small sigh as he had been hoping Scott had something that they could actually use.

“I know, it’s crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s gotta be some way. There’s got to be some-” Scott looked at Steve’s face and sighed. “It’s crazy..I know, yeah…”

"Scott,” Natasha cut him off, “I get emails from a raccoon. Nothing sounds crazy anymore.”

Steve looked at her and had to concede maybe she had a point. The things they had seen over the past eleven years, none of it he would have ever believed possible. So who was to say this wasn’t? But time travel? Really? Was he stood there, actually thinking it could be a possibility?

“So who do we talk to about this?” Scott asked, looking between the three people stood in front of him.

Natasha looked at Katie meaningfully and she shook her head, instantly understanding.

“Uh-uh. He’s done with all this, there’s no way he’ll help.”

“Who?” Scott asked.

“My brother.”

“We should at least try.” Natasha implored, her eyes bright at the possibility that there could be a way to undo everything. Katie really wanted to feel the same level of excitement but all she could feel at that point was a horrible sense of foreboding. And she had no idea why.

“Nat’s right.” Steve looked to Katie. “We should talk to him.”

Before Katie could respond she saw out of the corner of her eye that Jamie was sliding off the sofa and walking towards them. Scott who hadn’t noticed the small boy up until that point gave a start of surprise before he watched him hurry over to Katie.

“Momma.” He asked and she crouched down next to him.

“You okay?”

“When’s dinner?”

“I’m gonna make it soon, sorry baby.” She kissed his cheek as she picked him up, turning back to Scott. “Jamie this is momma, daddy and Auntie Nat-Nat’s friend, Scott. Wanna say hello?”

Jamie looked over, smiling, not a shy bone in his body, as he waved his little hand. “Hi Scott.”

“This…you…” Scott was looking between Katie and Steve and Steve gave him a small smile. “Wow, that’s great. It’s nice to meet you, Jamie.” Jamie held out his hand for a hi-five and Scott let out a laugh, obliging. “So, you guys just got the one, or…”

“No, we also have an older daughter.” Steve smiled, as he watched Jamie in his wife’s arms.

“Older?”

“She’s adopted.” Katie explained. “Currently away with friends.”

Scott nodded, swallowing a little as his gaze dropped to the floor. The room fell into silence and Katie took a deep breath.

“I’m gonna go make dinner.” She smiled, before looking at Scott then to Natasha.“See if we can do better than a peanut butter sandwich.” “Scott, why don’t you go with Natasha and she can fill you in on anything you need to know.” Steve offered. “And vice versa of course.”

“Okay.”

Natasha gestured with her head for Scott to follow her as Katie placed Jamie on the floor and looked up at Steve.

“Do you really think there’s anything in this?” Steve sighed. “I dunno, Sweetheart. I mean it sounds crazy, a time machine, but then so does a mad man wiping out fifty percent of all living creatures on the planet with a click of his fingers thanks to some cosmic stones.”

“Just promise me something.” Katie looked at him, “if Tony refuses to help, you won’t go kicking off and falling out again. Because if he does say no, he has his reasons for doing so.” “I promise.” Steve assured her.

Satisfied, Katie smiled and looked down at Jamie. “Wanna come help me make dinner or go with Daddy and talk to Scott and Auntie Nat-Nat.” Jamie pondered and Steve smiled at his face. The three year old was torn, and Steve knew why. Part of him wanted to go and talk to his Auntie and the new man he had met a few minutes ago because he was naturally inquisitive, or a “nosey parker” as Emmy called him. But the other part of him knew that if he went to help his Mom he’d be getting sneaky little tit-bits along the way.

Eventually, the curiosity part won out and he grabbed Steve’s hand. “I go with you Daddy.” Katie rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Traitor.”

Jamie grinned as Steve picked him up, leaning over in his Father’s arms to place a sloppy kiss on Katie’s cheek.

“Love you Momma.” He beamed as Steve smiled at his wife. She stuck her tongue out at her son making him giggle and do the same, then she picked up the bag off the table and headed down to the kitchen.

******

Tony smiled headed out of the house and across the lawn towards Morgan’s little tent. He clapped his hands along to a well-known famous beat.

“Chow time! Morgoona.”

No answer. Tony rolled his eyes, it was just like dad trying to deal with Katie when she had been that age. She’d ignore everyone unless she decided paying attention was of any benefit, well, almost everyone. She’d always come running when it was him who called. Something Tony had always been secretly smug about.

He sat on the small chair by the side of the tent and looked around him, taking in the gentle breeze coming off the lake.

“Morgan H Stark, you want some lunch?”

“Define lunch or be disintegrated.” She spoke, her voice slightly distorted as she emerged from the tent and he felt his breath catch. She was wearing the silver and blue helmet that belonged to the suit he had been working on in the garage, and she had the play Iron-Man glove that he had made sets of for her and Jamie on her hand, holding it up as if firing a repulsor beam.

“You should not be wearing that, okay? That is part of a special anniversary gift I’m making for Mom.” He pressed a kiss to the side of the helmet before he took it off. His daughter’s face emerged, smiling mischievously.

“Okay.” She grinned as Tony brushed the hair back off her face and smoothed down the fly-away strands that had risen up.

“There you go. Are you thinking about lunch? I can give you a handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce.”

“No.” Morgan giggled

“That’s what you want.” He teased before he glanced at the helmet in his hand. “How did you find this?”

“The garage” She said simply, as if it was obvious. Which in fairness, it was, because that’s where he had left it.

“Really?” Tony looked at her, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion. “Were you looking for it?”

“No.” She said, but the look on her face that told Tony she had totally been looking for it. “I found it, though.”

“You like going to the garage, huh? So does daddy” Tony stood, picking her up in one arm, the helmet still held in the other, heading to the house. He glanced down at it again and chuckled to himself. “It’s fine, actually. Your mom never wears anything I buy her.”

He had just reached the top of the steps to the porch when his attention was caught by the sound of a car heading up the drive. He turned round to see Kiddo’s grey Audi pulling to a stop a few meters away. He paused for a moment, because he hadn’t been expecting them, but then he smiled and waved before he frowned a little. There were other people in the back seat of the car, but he couldn’t quite make out who.

Katie was out of the car first, opening one of the back doors and Jamie barrelled out of the vehicle, running over to his Uncle.

“Uncle Nee!” He called gleefully as he ran up the steps to the porch.

“Hey!” Tony placed Morgan down and bent to give his nephew’s head a kiss. “I wasn’t expecting to see you guys to-“

He trailed off as he caught sight of exactly who it had been in the back. Natasha raised her head in a greeting which he returned and he then glanced at the man, Scott Lang, who he had last seen in The Raft

A man who had been snapped was now stood on his driveway.

What the fuck was going on?

“Morgan,” Tony looked down, “take Jamie inside will you? Tell your mom we have visitors, I’ll be in in a moment.” “Okay.” Morgan said, and Jamie took her hand, the two of them heading off round the porch.

“Hey.” Katie greeted her brother as she walked up the steps. “Sorry to spring this on you but…”

He gave her a hug and when she stepped back he looked over her shoulder. “S’Up Lang? Thought you got turned to dust?”

Steve winced slightly at Tony’s blasé tone, but he could tell from his brother-in-law’s face, he was anything but. His eyes were burning with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

“It’s a really, really long story.” Scott nodded as he rounded the car, looking at Tony

“Which is why we’re here.” Steve slipped his hands into his pockets as he stopped at the porch steps. “Tony, there might be a way we can bring everyone back.” Tony took a deep breath. Five years. Five years it had been and still they couldn’t simply let things lie. Did he want to get involved? No, absolutely not. But he should at least hear them out, right? It could be simple. Maybe not dangerous, either. Maybe.

He looked at his sister and she shrugged, and he could tell by her expression she was torn. Probably from the same fears he had.

“Take a seat.” He gestured to the chairs and sofa on the porch area. “I’ll grab us a drink.”

Katie looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the house and Steve nodded, understanding she was going with him. She followed Tony inside and greeted Pepper who had seen the gang outside the house.

“What the hell?” Tony frowned and Katie sighed.

“He turned up at the compound last night. Apparently he was in something called the Quantum Realm when the Snap happened. He re-emerged a few days ago and drove over.” Katie bit her lip. “The thing is Tony, for him it was a matter of hours not years.”

Tony took a deep breath and reached into the fridge for the tall jug of iced coffee and placed it on the counter before pouring in a generous helping of vanilla syrup. Still without a word being spoke he pulled five glass tumblers from the cabinet, and handed them to his sister. “We’ll be outside.” He said, giving Pepper a kiss. “How many should I expect for lunch?” She asked, giving him a small smile “Set it for eight.” He shrugged, walking away. “I’ll decide whether they can stay or not after I’ve heard what hair-brained scheme Rogers has come up with this time.”

Katie rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “In his defence, this isn’t his idea.”

“No but I bet it was to come here.”

“Wrong again.” Katie arched an eyebrow as Tony opened the door. “That one’s on Nat.” “Pain in my ass.” he mumbled, as he walked back to the porch.

He placed the jug down on the small coffee table and plonked into a chair to the right of it, looking up at Steve who was leaning against the wooden rails of the porch, Nat to his right.

“Alright,” He watched as Scott sat in the chair at the other side of the small table, Katie leaning up against the side of the house. “Explain.”

So Scott did. About where he had been, how long for, and his theory about how they could, potentially, use the Quantum Realm to navigate time. Tony listened, and for the most Steve was surprised to see the man’s face was passive, no sarcastic quirk of the eyebrow or quip. Nothing. Instead, he reached over and began pouring the drinks into the glasses.

“Now, we know what it sounds like.” Scott stammered out before Steve cut him off, keen to understand what was going on in the Inventor’s head.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything like this really possible?”

Tony looked up from pouring the drinks, handing one to Katie who smiled a thanks to him.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck scale, which then triggers the Deutsch proposition, can we agree on that?”

Scott, Steve and Natasha all looked blankly back at him. Steve had no idea what he was talking about but he saw Katie out of the corner of her eye stiffen slightly.

“As in David Deutsch?” She asked. “The Fabric of Reality?”

Tony nodded before he handed Steve a glass. “Thank-you.” Steve said, he quite liked Tony’s iced coffee, he had certainly drunk enough of it whilst sat in the spot that Scott now occupied over the past few years.

"In layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” Tony finished, and Steve let out a sigh.

“I did.” Scott said almost immediately.

“No, you accidentally survived. It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke.” Tony shook his head, his voice even “And now you want to pull off a, what do you call it?”

Scott shrugged, searching for a term to describe what he had been thinking of doing. “A…time…heist?”

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn’t we think of this before?” Tony asked, looking up at Steve “Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipedream.”

"The stones are in the past.” Steve spoke softly. The fact that Tony hadn’t dismissed the fact that it was a possibility to time travel was spurring him on, there had to be a way they could do this safely, Scott was living proof of that. “We could go back and we could get them.”

“We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everybody back.” Natasha added.

“Or screw it up worse than he already has.” Tony instantly replied.

“I don’t think we would.” Steve shook his head.

“Got to say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism.” Tony shot, and Steve took a deep breath, raising his eyebrows. “However, high hopes won’t help if there’s no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist.” Tony leaned back further in his chair. “I believe the most likely outcome will be our collective demise.”

Natasha walked from where she had been stood leaning against the wall of the house besides Katie to the rails of the porch, looking out over the grounds for a moment as Scott spoke again.

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.” He said, almost eagerly, “No talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Scott.” Tony raised his hand and leaned forward. “Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back to the Future?”

“No?” Scott said, embarrassment flooding his tone.

“Good you had me worried there, because that’s not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony, we have to take a stand.” Natasha spoke, turning to face him, her voice sad, almost pleading. Katie watched her for a second, before she looked to her brother. Tony stared up at Nat, almost apologetically but Katie could see his mind was made up, and his answer was just what she had suspected it would be.

“We did stand.” Tony’s voice was soft “And yet, here we are.”

“I know you got a lot on the line,” Scott spoke again, “you got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” His voice began to gather pace and volume as he tried to sell his desperation to Tony “We have a chance to bring her back, bring everyone back. And you’re telling me you won’t even-”

“That’s right Scott. I won’t even. I got a kid.” Tony cut him off with absolute irrevocability as Scott stared at him in disbelief.

Steve took a deep breath and glanced at Katie, who had remained silent pretty much all through the discussions. She was looking down at her hands, twisting her engagement ring around her finger, the way she always did when she was worried or thinking. But before he could say anything, the door to the house opened and two sets of small footsteps clattered across the wood. Morgan ran up to Tony, who picked her up as she placed her arms round his neck and Jamie ran to his mother, who swept him up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Mommy told us to come save you.” Morgan said to her dad. Katie gave a soft chuckle as Tony looked at her, grinning.

"Good job. I’m saved.” Tony told his daughter as he gave her head a kiss before he stood up, Morgan in his arms. He turned to look at Steve, Nat and Scott. “I wish you’d come here to ask me something else. Anything else.” He sighed, before looking directly at Nat. “Honestly, I missed you.” She gave a small smile as he turned to head to the house. “Oh, and the table’s set for eight-“

As he went to pass by Steve, the Soldier gently stopped him with a hand on his arm and Katie watched, Jamie perched on her hip, his small hand playing with the diamond studded star shaped necklace she wore, a gift from Steve many Christmases ago.

"Tony, I get it, I really do, but this, this is a second chance.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap.” Tony looked at his brother-in-law before he nodded over to where Katie was stood holding Jamie. “You did too. And I can’t roll the dice again, and frankly neither should you.”

Steve took a deep breath, bristling slightly. Was Tony seriously implying that he thought he was going to gamble with his kids’ lives? That was the whole point of them coming to talk to him, so that they didn’t do anything that would jeopardise what they had.

“If you don’t talk shop, you can stay for lunch.” Tony headed towards the door.

“I think we should be getting back.” Steve spoke, his words coming out a little harsher than he had meant. Tony turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, before heading into the house. Katie watched her brother go and then turned to Steve as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at her and she stared straight back, her face stony. She’d warned him how this would turn out and he’d promised her he wouldn’t get mad at Tony. And whilst he hadn’t got mad per-se, he had to concede that his last comment had been said with a bit of a shitty tone.

“Momma?” Jamie spoke and Katie’s attention turned to her son. “I want lunch. Auntie Pepper was making meatballs.” “Your favourite?” Katie smiled at her son “Wow!”

Jamie giggled and Katie turned back to her husband “You go, we’re gonna stay.” Her statement was accompanied with a look to say that this wasn’t up for negotiation so Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“Okay, give me a call and I’ll come get you later.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek, before he did the same to his son and then gestured for Scott and Natasha to follow him back to the car.

“He’s scared.” Natasha turned to Steve once they were clear of the porch steps.

“Well, he’s not wrong." Steve sighed because, despite his disappointment, he understood Tony’s fear and reticence, he really did because he felt it too. They couldn’t do anything that would undo the events of the past five years. But there had to be a way to make sure they didn’t. He looked back at the house where he could just see Katie was stood inside the kitchen, smiling at Pepper.

"Yeah, but I mean what are we gonna do?” Scott asked, his tone desperate again. “We need him, are we gonna stop?”

“No, but I wanna do it right,” Steve said thoughtfully, as an idea suddenly came to him. He opened the driver’s side door and glanced over at Natasha “We’re gonna need a really big brain.”

"Bigger than his?” Scott asked incredulously, pointing to Tony’s house.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow as she understood what Steve meant and she smiled gently before turning to Scott.

“Good job we know exactly where we can find one.”

****

Inside the house, Katie watched the car pull away before she turned and accepted the glass of wine Tony was offering.

“Lunchtime drinking?” She quirked an eyebrow and he shrugged.

“Figured you might need it after that, I do.”

Katie sighed and made her way over to the table, where Pepper was sat dishing out the food onto the kid’s plates.

“Fankoo Auntie Pep.” Jamie said, grinning and she beamed at him.

“You’re welcome, Sweetie.” They ate together, making general conversation about anything other than ‘time heists’ and two helpings of meatballs and spaghetti later, Jamie and Morgan asked if they could go outside to play. Tony headed out to supervise them whilst Katie helped Pepper clear the table before she went to find her brother.

“So we gonna talk about the elephant in the room, or on the lawn?” Tony asked, looking at her.

Katie shrugged. “That’s not why I stayed, Tone.” She sighed, her green eyes locking onto his. “You know, I told them you wouldn’t want to help.” “It isn’t a case of not wanting to, Kiddo.” He sighed. “I just can’t…”

“I get it.” She nodded with a sad smile. “There’s a lot at stake…”

"So why doesn’t Spangles see that?”

“He does. He just wants to see if there’s any possible way we can do it. You know, bring everyone back.” “And what about you?”

“Honestly?” Katie looked at Tony and shrugged. “If you told me there was a way we could do it, and not change anything out of the last five years I’d jump at the chance, because that’s what we do, we’re the A-vengers remember, not the Pre-vengers.”

“Used to be.” Tony corrected her with the glimmer of a smile.

“Well, I don’t remember quitting.” Katie looked at her brother. “We just kinda…stopped.” “Say there is.” Tony sighed. “Say you suddenly find a way that guarantees that nothing from the last five years will change, and you do it. You pull off the Time Heist, reverse the snap…Kiddo, you open up a whole can of other worms. People have moved on in the past five years, and suddenly you’re bringing back husbands, wives, daughters, sons, mothers, fathers who were long gone and-”

“I know.” Katie cut him off, nodding. “It would be extremely naïve to think things could just simply go back to how they were. There would be a lot of other issues and shit to deal with, I get that, but at least everyone would be alive.”

Tony sighed “I can’t gamble on this.” He gestured to the kids who were now playing

“Like I said Tony, I’m not trying to change your mind.” Katie shrugged. “And I won’t be gambling on anything either.”

******

It was getting late, and Steve still hadn’t heard from Katie. He was just about to give her a call when he heard the security system announcing the gate had been unlocked. Frowning, he made his way to the door, opening it to see Tony’s car pulling onto the driveway. He stopped not far from the door and Katie stepped out of the passenger seat.

“He’s fast asleep.” She nodded to the rear as Steve headed out to greet her, peering into the back of the car. He gave his wife a quick peck on the lips before he reached into the rear, and gently picked Jamie out of the back, the child only stirring long enough press his face into Steve’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of his sweater in his fist.

“Thanks Tony.” Katie leaned back into the car over the passenger seat to give her brother a kiss on the cheek.

“No problem, Kiddo.” As his sister stepped back, Tony hesitated for a moment and then climbed out of the car, looking over the roof at Steve who was heading back up the steps to the house.

“Cap.” He called. Steve stopped and turned to his brother-in-law. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

Steve took a deep breath and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’re meeting Banner tomorrow.” “Banner?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “Nat called him before, he’s gonna hear us out. See if he can help.”

Tony remained silent, his mind whirring. “Just promise me one thing, please.” He sighed. “You can’t, the kids, I mean…”

Steve frowned. “Tony, if you think I’d gamble with our children’s lives, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“I guess not.” Tony’s mouth set into a thin line and at that point Katie shook her head.

“Stop it, please.” She sighed. “I can’t cope with you at each other’s throats, not again.”

Steve licked his lips and turned to his wife. “Sorry.”

“Just take Jamie inside, I’ll be with you in a moment.” She looked at him, Nodding, Steve turned and headed inside. Katie glared at her brother who held his hands up, palms open.

“Like I said before, I get why you’re scared, but Steve’s right. All we’re doing at the moment is gathering facts, maybe understanding what we’re looking at a little more. If by doing that we come to the conclusion that we can’t guarantee what we have isn’t safe then we stop.” Tony took a deep breath, before he nodded back to the house. “Just make sure he understands that.”

Before Katie could reply he hopped back in his car, reversed slightly before he spun round and headed off through the gates. Katie walked straight into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, grabbing a beer for Steve before she sat down at the table, head in her hands, she was exhausted.

The problem was, she could see this from both sides. Whilst the possibility of being able to bring everyone back was simply too good to not explore, the chance that they could lose either of their kids if something didn’t got to plan was enough to put the fear of God into her. She looked up as Steve returned having settled Jamie in bed, and she slid the beer across the table to him as he sat in the seat next to her.

“You okay?” He asked, and she looked at him.

“I’m scared Steve. Tony is right. We can’t risk what we have.”

“We won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure, none of us do.” She sniffed, and Steve wasn’t surprised to see the tears in her eyes. “Tony before, when he talked about the Deutsch proposition, that was a reference to a guy called David Deutsch. He wrote a book called The Fabric of Reality and one of the chapters talks about how time travel would really work if it proves possible.”

Steve nodded, telling her to continue. He knew when she was on a roll explaining something like this he had to let her finish, plus he wanted to understand her concerns.

“His view of time travel is that if you went back in time and killed your Grandfather, say, you’d simply create an alternate universe and timeline in which you are not born. But the version of yourself that went back in time came from a different universe, so you wouldn’t suddenly cease to exist, like in Back To The Future or whatever, you’d still be there in that new universe.” “Okay, so, according to this Deutsch guy, Scott’s theory about simply not changing anything in the past isn’t quite right?” Steve frowned, thinking he understood. She smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, which to be fair is only what everyone believes because of films anyway. They depict time travel in a single universe. But, if you accept that there are actually many universes that are constantly branching off of one another, then…” She sighed.

“But surely that’s a good thing?” Steve implored. “Iwf hat you’re saying is that we can’t alter our future by changing the past then…” “What I’m saying is, that none of us know for sure.” She corrected, her voice almost a whisper. “And even if we successfully navigate the whole going back in time think, what if when we undo the Snap we jump back five years in our own time line and…”

She trailed off and Steve reached up to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen down her cheek. “Baby, look at me.”

She obliged, and he held her gaze. “Nothing scares me more than losing our kids, or you. Which is why we need to do this right. I get why Tony doesn’t want to help, he’s scared too, but….” he trailed off. “I’m doing this for Jamie, for Emmy. I want Emmy to be able to see all the things she knew before the snap, and Jamie to see things he never has.”

“Like whales in the Hudson?”

“Like whales in the Hudson.” Steve nodded with a smile. “Although I’d never seen that before either, but the point still remains. I want them to have the best possible life that we can give them.”

Katie looked at him, and sniffed. “You swear to me, right now, that the moment we start to see things going sideways, if we can’t be certain that we won’t impact anything that’s happened in the last five years, we stop.”

“Hand on heart, I swear to you.” Steve took her face in his hands, driving his message home “Kitten, I’d die before I let anything happen to any of you.”

“Yeah, that kinda worries me a little too.” She sniffed and he chuckled slightly, before dropping a soft kiss to her lips.

“Let’s see what Bruce has to say tomorrow.” Steve said gently, his thumbs skating over her cheekbones. “If he doesn’t believe we can control the outcome then, we give up. It was a stab in the dark, but nothing more.”

Katie nodded, and he pressed his lips to hers again, this time the kiss slightly deeper.

“I love you.” He moved his hands to lace into hers before he raised her left to his lips and placed a soft kiss over the top of her rings.

*****

Bruce was already waiting for them at the diner the next morning. Scott’s shocked and puzzled reaction to seeing the Hulk-Sized Bruce Banner was understandable, after all it was the same reaction Katie, Steve and Natasha had all had when they had seen him like this for the first time a few months back. In fact, the only person that hadn’t batted an eyelid was Jamie.

“Hi Dr Brucie!” Jamie grinned, reaching over Katie to hi-five the man, Banner grinning a the boy’s nick name for him.

“You’re getting big, tiny person!” He boomed as the simply ridiculous amounts of food started to arrive. Brue wasn’t shy about digging in, and neither was Jamie, as always. Katie dished out some eggs, sausages and bacon onto his plate and poured him a small glass of the orange juice whilst, in turn, Steve poured her and Natasha some water.

“Come on, I feel like I’m the only one eating!” Bruce pushed a plate forward. “Apart from Jamie that is. Try some of that. Have some eggs.”

“I’m so confused.” Scott looked at Bruce, his face blank as he shook his head.

“These are confusing times.” Bruce nodded with a serious smile on his face.

“Right, no, no that’s not what I meant…”

“No, I get it I’m kidding.” Bruce grinned, dropping the act. “I know, it’s crazy! I’m wearing shirts now!”

“Yeah…wh…how, why?” Scott stuttered, his eyes wide as he looked at Bruce.

“Five years ago, we got our asses beaten. Except it was worse for me. Because I lost twice. First, Hulk lost, then Banner lost. Then, we all lost.”

“No one blamed you, Bruce.” Natasha said softly.

“I did.” Bruce stated simply “For years, I’ve been treating the Hulk like he’s some kind of disease, something to get rid of. But then I started looking at him as the cure. Eighteen months in a gamma lab. I put the brains and the brawn together. And now look at me. Best of both worlds…”

He was cut off by a group of three children, one of which tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Mr. Hulk?

"Yes?” Bruce asked, turning to face them.

“Can we get a photo?” the little girl beamed at him.

“100%, little person. Come on, step up.” Bruce said, taking the phone which was handed to him and leaning across Natasha to pass it to Scott. “You mind?

“Oh, yeah.” Scott shook himself out of his thoughts, accepting the phone.

“Thanks,” he said before he turned to the kids. “Say ‘green’!” “Greeeeen!” came the collective chant before Bruce looked at Scott “Did you get that?”

Scott leaned forward and held the phone out, before he gestured at himself, “Don’t you wanna grab one with me? I’m Ant-Man.”

Nothing.

Katie hastily picked up her glass of water and locked eyes with Natasha, the red head trying also not to laugh.

“It’s alright they’re Hulk fans, they don’t know Ant-Man. Nobody does.” Scott shook his head.

"Wait, no, no, he feels bad. No, he wants you to…he wants to.” Bruce looked at one of the boys “You want to take a picture with him, right?” The boy shook his had vigorously.

“He’s even saying 'no’ he doesn’t.” Scott snapped. “I get it. I don’t want it either.”

Katie looked at Steve who was now staring down at the glass of water in his hand, his fingers trailing round the top. He was getting frustrated, Katie could tell. She reached behind Jamie, who was nestled in-between his parents and gently gave his neck a soft tickle with her fingers and he looked at her, smiling softly.

“Just take the goddamn phone.” Scott called time on the ridiculous exchange that had been going on, and Steve took a long drink of his water.

“Thank you very much!” Banner called smiling “Hulk out!”

“Bruce.” Steve looked at him, deciding to bring him back to the subject in hand. Bruce ignored him.

“Dab!” he grinned, making the action as the kids all laughed.

“Bruce.” Steve spoke this time again in his Captains voice, but to no avail. He rolled his eyes as the man continued.

“Listen to your mom. She knows better.”

“About what we were saying?” Steve tried once more as Bruce finally, and Katie suspected rather reluctantly, turned back to them.

“Right, the whole time travel do-over.” Bruce leaned back in his chair. “Guys, it’s outside my area of expertise.”

“Well, you pulled this off.” Natasha looked him up and down before she smiled.“I remember a time when that seemed pretty impossible too.”

Bruce nodded slightly, before he took a deep breath.

“In suppose, in theory you could do it.” He scratched at his chin. “You could go back in time, get the stones and come back without changing anything that’s happened in the past five years.”

“How?” Katie looked at him, her arm dropping round Jamie’s shoulders as he continued to scribble on the colouring pad they’d brought for him.

“Well,” Bruce said, looking at her. “Thanos was already on his murder mission way before he got the stones. He harnessed their power and got them to work together to do exactly what he wanted.”

“So,” Steve looked at Bruce, “if we tell the stones what we want, exactly what we want…”

Bruce nodded. “Everyone comes home, and the past five years remain untouched.”

Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they glanced over the table and Scott and Natasha smiled.

Everyone comes home…

**** Chapter 51

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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suburbanbeatnik · 3 years

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The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART TWO

Although the beatings had ceased, Franz’s life continued in refined isolation until his fifteenth year, when his cousin Franz Karl married the beautiful and charming Sophie of Bavaria.

She was only six years older than he, a fine, pretty girl of sweet features and merry lips, with light chestnut brown hair arranged in great loops on her temples. She had done away with the stiff sumptuousness of her apartment at the Burg, and refurnished it in a more intimate atmosphere. In her salon, with its mahogany furniture covered in yellow velours and minus the usual gilding. Reichstadt would often come and sit beside her, looking through the pictures in her albums while she would paint, or play graceful Italian airs on her piano. And they would talk. She sided with him when things went wrong, pitied him, loved him. She was the only one to whom he could talk to with an open heart. Thanks to Sophie, in those troubled years of adolescence when the child is disappearing and the man is trying to find himself, he had at last found what had been refused him for so long: a friend. [Aubry pg 140]

Franz was growing into a handsome young man, with his mother’s blue eyes and blond curls, but his father’s striking bone structure and deep-set eyes, and the emotional Bonaparte temperament. Though he was robust and “glowing with health” as a baby, by the time he was an adolescent he became more frail. Doctors said he had a “scrofulous tendency,” which was 19th century medical gobbledygook for some sort of disorder connected with the lymphatic glands. It seems to me that this kid was isolated and beaten for years, and suffered from pretty severe depression— on top of that, he didn’t eat (Aubry records that he had “a poor appetite”). Throw in an inherited tendency from his mother to have lung trouble, I’m not surprised he struggled with illness going forwards.

Apart from Sophie, there was no one to really look out after him. She encouraged him, his interests, his passions, his keen desire to be a soldier, his love for his father and of France, helping undo all the years of Habsburg brainwashing. As the years passed, he even learned how his father’s executors were continually frustrated in trying to pass on the legacy his father had tried to leave to him. “They had been kept away, or driven away: or else the relics they had brought had been politely taken from them and stuffed away into strongboxes, thus cheating the son of the only material inheritance his father had left him. Who had so ordained? Metternich, none other!” [Aubry pg 154]

Metternich, the true ruler of this not-so-holy and not-so-Roman empire, was the one man who had schemed and plotted to keep Franz so isolated and alone. Metternich, and this is no exaggeration, hated every atom of Franz since he was a baby, and he never let Franz forget it. Franz was under police surveillance at all times: the Chancellor had the Corsican’s son in his grasp, and would not lose him. He wouldn’t even allow the young man contact with his own grandmother, Letizia, Madame Mère, now eighty years old and blind from cataracts. He wouldn’t even allow a single letter— a single sentence.

That statesman, who had a government for a soul, had made Austria a prison for him instead of the home it should have been! Metternich had been his father’s enemy; he was his enemy too, and always had been! The young man felt the hostility underneath the Chancellor’s icy courtesy, and he hated him. Altogether without basis in fact are those accounts of numerous conversations between Metternich and the Duke of Reichstadt during this period. Prokesch maintains that the Minister talked to the Prince just five times in seventeen years. Far from seeking to influence the Duke of Reichstadt during this period, Metternich avoided all contact with him. He hated him as he hated his father. The likeness to the Corsican which he found again in the young man’s features offended him like an insult. He could not bear the sight of that forehead, the sound of that voice. At a Court reception on the evening of the Duke’s eighteenth birthday, the Chancellor paid the obligatory compliments and turned away hastily. Those who spoke to him immediately afterwards found him more distant than usual. As soon as he could do so without attracting attention, he left the palace. [Aubry pg 162]

After years of being force-fed Austrian propaganda, Franz had started reading as much as he could about the greatness of Napoleon— obsessively reading Las Cases’ Memorial of St Helena, which he found on one of the top shelves of the library. Imagine his feelings when he read his father’s will for the first time, discovering what affects and relics were left to him, but which he would never see, thanks to Metternich’s machinations (and Louise’s clumsy attempts to lay claim to Napoleon’s inheritance, which had sabotaged the work of the executors in the first place, did not cease until 1837). Franz, fascinated with his father’s campaigns and personal history, threw himself into his studies. Through books, he vicariously experienced Lodi, Arcole, Marengo, the Pyramids, Jena, Austerlitz�� He became drunk with the glory of the past. A spell had been cast, and Franz became determined to make his father proud of him. When one of his tutors began to lecture him on his father’s shortcomings, Franz replied impatiently:

“The actions of great men are not to be weighed with ordinary scales.” [Aubry pg 156]

Franz was slowly shedding the relationships of his childhood. When, upon Neipperg’s death in 1829, he had discovered his mother had contracted a morganatic marriage with the one-eyed Neipperg, he “felt deeply insulted and humiliated.” He was enraged enough to discover just that: of course, keep in mind he had no idea that she was sleeping with Neipperg and had given Franz two illegitimate half-siblings while his father was living with the rats on St. Helena. I doubt he would have ever talked to her again if that was the case. Even without knowing that, he withdrew, “his letters were less affectionate and he mentioned her name more rarely. She had been expected at Schoenbrunn for the summer. Her son learned with relief that she preferred to take a cure in Switzerland.” [Aubry pg 160]

Of course, Louise kept doing her thing, weeping for Neipperg over “gay dinner tables and at the opera,” being annoyed whenever the name of Napoleon reached her ears, and then finding “a substitute for the one-eyed general in the person of the Count de Bombelles, at first Grand Master of her Household, then her lover, and then finally her third husband.” [Aubry pg 161]

Meanwhile, for years Franz had struggled with depression. The July Revolution had happened, with the kind and comfortable Louis-Philippe installed on the throne, and even though the King of Rome was still a popular figure in France, with perhaps a chance to ascend the throne, Franz was still, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner. And the older he got, the more obvious this became. Suggestions to become a monarch in Poland or Greece were pushed asides by Metternich. Attempts by his uncles Lucien and Joseph to discuss Franz’s future with Metternich were completely blocked. All he wanted to do was to start his military career, and make himself useful, but he couldn’t even join his regiment, or even visit his mother in Italy. His health was floated as the reason why he should stay inactive, but Franz doubted this was the only reason. Bouts of rage alternated with deep sloughs of “sadness and tedium,” and he could barely summon the interest to hold a conversation. Not surprisingly, his mother lacked sympathy. In 1830, when Louise was summering in Baden, taking the waters, she “rebuked him for his apathy. She could not understand why her son could be ‘so little like other young people.’” [Aubry pg 181]

It grew worse a year later. Italy was on fire with the revolutionary activities of the Carbonari, and Louise had fled Parma in fear of her life. Franz pleaded with his grandfather to let him go rescue her, but Metternich intervened. Let the son of Napoleon, the King of Rome, go to Italy, where his father won his own fame? Of course not! Emperor Francis gave into Metternich, and poor Franz was left feeling torn between misery, fury and desperation. Even Prokesch, his best friend apart from Sophie—a major in the Viennese army, a loyal soldier, scholar and diplomat who had worked for Metternich, but had defied him on a few occasions-- couldn’t calm him.

His despair was palpable. He knew he would spend his entire life bound and trapped, with Metternich as his jailer.

The young man had sealed himself up in a silence that was almost complete, venting his feelings at the most in talks with Sophie and Prokesch, during which he expressed many severe judgments on members of the Imperial family. He loved Sophie and he had an affection for his grandfather, but he did not like the Empress, fond as she was of him. He thought the Archduke Ferdinand, heir-apparent and King of Hungary, was a ninny. [Editor’s note: Ferdinand was actually a brain-damaged hydrocephalic epileptic who couldn’t even consummate his own marriage with his wife Maria Anna, married in 1835.] He hated the Archduke Franz Karl, Sophie’s husband, calling him deceitful, mean and vulgar. Table conversations at the Hofburg were stupid, the Court life was cheap and in bad taste. Comparing himself with those pious, submissive and conceited Archudukes and those ugly, insipid Archduchesses, he felt himself of a superior race. He even said one day— and Prokesch recorded the words in his secret notes:

“If Josephine had been my mother, my father would not have gone to St. Helena, and I would not be languishing in Vienna. My mother certainly has a kind heart, but no backbone! She was not the wife my father deserved!”

And he added, burying his face in Prokesch’s hands:

“You do not respect her, do you?”

And Prokesch replied:

“She was what she could be. The woman your father deserved for a wife did not exist. But he chose her, and she is your mother…”

Reichstadt was now weeping, and a long silence followed. [Aubry pg 207]

And that was when he seriously began to think about escaping.

While the two began to consider exactly what they could do, Franz decided that he had had quite enough of the chaperonage of Count Dietrichstein, his head tutor. This was the man who whipped him when he was five, who thrashed him when he was ten, who drilled him for countless hours on his German and his Italian translations and all the minutiae of court etiquette. He claimed to be utterly devoted to the young prince. Maybe he was, in his own weird way. But Franz was spreading his wings (or at least attempting to— even when he was 20, his imperial grandpa was still prone to treating him like a child, forcing him to dine with him in austerity if his own personal dinner parties became, in Francis’s opinion, too extravagant). In addition to the sensible and devoted Prokesch, Franz had befriended a few other young men, rakes and dandies all, like Neipperg’s eldest son and the young Esterhazy. Franz was gorgeous, brooding, romantic, and with perfect manners, and the women were obsessed with him (a Polish nun who had never met him but only saw him from a distance once swore undying love, even writing letters to this effect).

There was one woman that Franz danced with at a masquerade ball, a certain Naudine Karolyi, black-haired, handsome and bold, and not only did they manage to dodge Metternich’s spies, but they exchanged a lot of letters. This was 1831, and he was 20. But Dietrichstein soon found out about the correspondence.

At any rate, he strode into the Duke’s room, began rummaging through his desk, and finding a drawer locked, commanded him to open it. Reichstadt did not dare refuse— he obeyed, and his governor saw before him a pile of letters from Esterhazy. He opened a few, ran through them, and turned around livid with anger:

“What?” he cried. “You have a love affair?”

“Yes,” replied the prince coolly. “You can see with whom.”

“Do you write to her directly?”

“No, sir.”

“Then through an intermediary? Someone I know?”

He was besides himself with rage and almost shouting. Other persons had just entered the room and stood looking on in surprise at the strange scene. Reichstadt begged the Count to calm himself.

“Come downstairs with me,” he whispered. “You shall have all the letters afterwards, I promise you.”

The Count mastered his anger and went down with him to the Emperor. On the return, the Duke scrupulously handed him the entire correspondence, and it was forthwith consigned to the flames. [Aubry, pg 212]

But this didn’t stop Dietrichstein from trying to intercept Franz’s personal letters. At one point he saw that Esterhazy called him “the old woman,” and Dietrichstein was “extremely hurt.” He tried everything he could to break up the friendship from that day on, but didn’t succeed, as Franz could be extremely stubborn and loyal to a fault.

The affair with Naudine didn’t go anywhere, but there were others— there was even a reputed bastard daughter who later called herself the Comtesse de la Pommiere— but no matter what happened, his heart belonged to Sophie.

* * *

I’m cutting this off here, because LONG POST IS LONG, but more angst and drama will be coming with the next post!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

#napoleon II #sophie of bavaria #franz duke of reichstadt #l'aiglon #eaglet #octave aubry #marie louise #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #count dietrichstein #metternich #austria #habsburgs #prokesch #king of rome #this poor kid #fucking habsburgs jesus christ

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elvendara · 3 years

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😉Fake Dating for @what-imfabulous-acceptit

I also realized that I used the 🤑 emoji twice so...guess I'll have to do both! LOL

I hope you like what I wrote! And thank you for the ask!

“Come on Saeyoung! It’s just one day!” Yoosung pleaded with the red head.

“NO! Absolutely not!” Saeyoung’s amber eyes were wide with disbelief at the continued bombardment from Yoosung. “I’m not going to let you ‘borrow’ my wife just so you don’t have to face the ‘why don’t you have a girlfriend yet’ questions from your family.”

“Please! I’m begging you. You don’t know what it’s like!” the blond fell to his knees and clutched at Saeyoung’s shirt.

MC was having a difficult time controlling her laughter and Saeran, who stood right beside her, sucked on a lollipop with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe if you put this much effort into actually finding a girlfriend, you’d have one.” Saeyoung tried to pull the shirt from Yoosung’s grasp. Saeran shook his head at the comedic gold unfolding before his eyes.

“Now you’re just being mean.” Yoosung let go of his best friend and fell back, sitting on his heels, rejected.

“OK OK, I’m sorry.” Saeyoung laughed and squatted in front of Yoosung.

“Does that mean that I can take MC to my family’s reunion as my girlfriend?” Yoosung asked eagerly.

“No.” was the firm answer.

“Oh.” Yoosung hung his head again. He would just have to suffer another year of his far flung relatives shaking their heads and clicking their tongues at his inability to snag a mate. He was 22 years old now and still never had a girlfriend, his teenaged relatives were going to tease him again.

“Why don’t you ask Saeran?” Saeyoung suggested. Saeran choked on the lollipop and he doubled over in a coughing fit. Yoosung’s head swiveled towards the other twin. Saeran? He blinked, really thinking about it. Would it matter if he had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend? Sure, some in his family would disapprove but so what? It was still better than the alternative.

He stood so fast he inadvertently shoved Saeyoung on his ass. The blond didn’t even give him a backwards glance let alone an apology. MC hurried to her husband and helped him up.

“What about it Searan? It’s just one day. Well, a day and a half maybe. We’d stay in my old room. Mom’s not a prude so she would assume we’re already sleeping together. And it would be better that way, it would save a lot of questions about why we’re not in the same room. I know my family, they tend to get nosy. But you don’t have to say anything. I can tell them you’re shy and very private. They won’t leave you alone just because of that, but you can get away with some one-word answers. It’s my sister you have to worry about. She’ll drill you, so we’d have to get our stories straight, you know, how did we meet? Well, that’s easy I guess, you’re my best friend’s brother obviously. What was our first date? When did you know you liked me, a…”

“Shut up!” Saeran had been taking several steps back until he hit the couch, Yoosung coming at him like a machine gun. Yoosung’s amethyst eyes blinked slowly, his cupid’s mouth turning into a frown, his lower lip trembling. “Damn it! Stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” he asked innocently, eyebrows knitting together pathetically above his eyes.

Saeran sighed and looked away. “Fine! I’ll do it, but I’m not answering any questions and I’m not going to be nice to anyone, got it?”

Yoosung threw himself on Saeran and hugged him tight. Saeran stiffened, not returning the hug, but not pushing the blond away either.

“OK OK, get off me!” Saeran finally pushed Yoosung off and rubbed his arms. “I’ll go pack. One day! I’m giving you one day that’s it!” the red head stated as he walked towards his room. “And don’t expect me to change who I am!” he called over his shoulder.

“Never!” Yoosung laughed jumping up and down with joy. His own bag was already packed. He’d waited till the last minute to ask about MC pretending to be his girlfriend, hoping it would help in making Saeyoung say yes. He’d been wrong. Of course, if he had a wife of his own, he wouldn’t like letting her pretend to be anyone else’s girlfriend either. “Oh, Saeyoung, can you drive us to the train station?”

Saeyoung and MC both took them to the station and stayed until the train pulled away.

Yoosung was grateful for their support, but still a little worried about Saeran.

“Thanks for doing this. I know you don’t really want to.” Yoosung said as the train began to move. They faced each other and Saeran had wasted no time pulling a book out of his bag to read.

“Whatever. Why do you even care what they think about you anyway? So what you’re taking your time to choose someone. If you ask me, people are too quick to jump into a relationship.” He went back to reading his book as Yoosung spent the rest of the ride thinking about what he’d said.

Once they stepped off the train Yoosung grabbed Saeran’s arm. “Wait. I shouldn’t have asked you, or anyone, to do this. It’s stupid right? I mean, what you said, about caring what they think? I don’t know how to answer that if I’m honest.” He ran a hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth tightening.

“Look, I get it…well…I mean, I don’t really have family like you. If I did, I wouldn’t want all their unasked-for interference in my life either. If it means you spend a day and a half without having to fend off all those aunts and uncles and cousins asking about your nonexistant love life and trying to give you advice, it’s worth it.” Saeran shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He held out his hand and Yoosung grartefully took it.

“Are you sure? I mean, I can just introduce you as a friend.” Yoosung offered.

“Nah, I’m already in the boyfriend mindset! Hmm, I say we hated each other at first. I would tease you for being so naïve and gullible and you’d tear into me for being an asshole and mean. But we spent so much time together, with Saeyoung being your bestie and all, that we kind of became Saeyoung and MC’s double date couple until I asked you out for real. What do you think?” they walked hand in hand out of the train station and hailed a cab.

“Sounds great actually. Well, I say our first date was at a super fancy restaurant, since you asked me, but we ended up ditching it for a burger joint that had the greasiest burgers in town.” He smiled, really getting into it.

“Love it! I know the exact place too. Jujin’s Bites.”

“Oh yes! That place would be perfect!” Saeran opened the door to the back of the cab and Yoosung climbed in, Saeran right behind him. He took Yoosung’s hand again and it made Yoosung’s heart race. What was this feeling? He felt so at ease with Saeran but at the same time his heart had never raced so fast next to him like this. He leaned against him and Saeran squeezed his hand harder. Was he just getting into the role of his boyfriend? That had to be it right?

Saeran kept talking during the fifteen-minute drive and Yoosung just nodded and made general ascenting noises. His mind was working overtime, trying to calm himself down. This wasn’t real, but it suddenly felt very real. Confusion clouded his thinking as he sifted through his feelings. The ride was way too short to figure anything out definitively, so he tried to just shut it down. Shove those feelings into a box, tape it up, and lock it behind a closed door in the back of his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed Saeran to help him out of the car. The red head then paid the driver and picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Yoosung did the same with his. They reached out to each other, holding hands quickly becoming a thing of ease and habit. The door to his mother’s house opened before they were even halfway up the sidewalk. His mother came rushing out and hugged him tightly. He let go of Saeran and returned his mother’s hug. His father and sister stood in the doorway, his sister, Yasmine, arched her eyebrow and gave him a very pointed questioning look as those same lavender eyes transferred towards Saeran at his side.

“Mom, you’re cutting off my circulation.” He managed to squeeze out.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just so nice to see my baby.” Saeran snorted but kept his comment to himself.

“I was just here last month.” Yoosung said.

“And who is this handsome fellow?” she asked, taking a step back and eyeing Saeran up and down.

“Oh, well, uh…” Yoosung suddenly couldn’t lie to his mother.

“I’m Saeran, Yoosung’s boyfriend.” Saeran introduced himself and bowed to the woman respectfully.

“Boyfriend? Why didn’t I know about this?” she asked, steely eyes turning to her son.

“I wanted to tell you in person that’s all.” Yoosung looked away.

“We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks. At least, officially.” Saeran tried to smile but it looked like a smirk and Yoosung was sure his family was getting the wrong idea.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we can talk inside?” the neighbors had suddenly decided to be a bit nosy, and it was making Yoosung uncomfortable.

“Of course, come in come in.” his mom stepped between them, turned around and slid her arms into theirs, leading them into the house.

Yasmine had that look in her eyes and Yoosung tried to catch Saeran’s eye to give him an “I’m sorry” look. It was going to get ugly.

The train ride back was mostly silent as they sat side by side. Sleeping in the same bed had been awkward after spending the day with his family. Yoosung had been right, some people in his family had not approved of two men being a couple, but their protests had been quickly shut down by his own mother and many who supported the relationship. Saeran had been a hit. Even with his dour expressions and curt answers, they had loved him.

There had been one uncomfortable moment when his sister had questioned their relationship and asked for proof by demanding they kiss. Yoosung had turned beat red at the idea but Saeran hadn’t hesitated, taking his chin and tilting it up slightly with thumb and forefinger. He had grazed Yoosung’s trembling lips, and softly pressed against them with his own. A sigh had escaped Yoosung’s lips as he felt Saeran’s wet tongue infiltrate his mouth. His head swam and he felt as if he would pass out, but Saeran held him close and didn’t let him slip. His sister had been satisfied and Yoosung had to admit, he had too. He’d spent the rest of the day thinking about that kiss and wondering if there would be more.

Unfortunately, there hadn’t been, but it had made for an awkward night. Saeran never mentioned it and Yoosung wondered if it had been no big deal to him. He felt sad at that thought. He chanced a glance to his side and saw that Saeran’s eyes were closed. He studied the profile, the sharp angle of his cheek, he still looked like he needed to eat more, but Yoosung knew that frailty was an illusion. He was strong, stronger than anyone he’d ever known. He had to be to still be somewhat sane after everything he’d been through.

He studied the delicate eyelashes, a soft orange that matched his hair. His eyes ran across the smattering of freckles and he ached to reach out and touch them. The feel of Saeran’s lips were still on his mind and he couldn’t help but to ingrain every inch of the soft pink flesh into his mind. He didn’t want the subterfuge to end he realized. He wanted to make it real. Saeran, Saeran was who he had been waiting for all his life. This man, with all his faults and trauma. Love wasn’t rose petals and rainbows. Unicorns and fantasyland. It was reality. The will to be with someone who wasn’t perfect but was perfect for you. The desire to make that person happy and to share their burdens. To walk on solid ground while looking up at the sky and weathering every storm that hit them. Together. He reached out and took a hold of Saeran’s hand and as he watched, those soft lips he had been studying shifted into a smile.

#my posts #Yooran #tropes ask #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #Mention of Saeyoung Choi and MC #Yoosung's family #fake dating #mysme #mystic messenger #yooran

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