#came at the one incredibly-rare time that faith wanted to be open with someone and connect on a deeper level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mama-qwerty · 3 months

Text

A Bad Idea Made Better

Okay, I'm done staring at this thing. Hopefully it came out better than I think it did, because it's bugging me for some reason.

Anyway, enjoy!

~~~~~

“You can’t be serious.”

Maddie and Callie were sitting at the counter in the ‘kitchen’ of the Sanctuary. A handful of Knuckles mingled in the various areas—the game corner, the sparring area, behind them rummaging through cupboards in search of snacks—and the moms were there in case anyone needed anything. The redhead cast a cocked eyebrow to her friend. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

Maddie shrugged. “He’s already started three fights in the last half hour,” she said, and a commotion drew their attention to another starting. “Make that four.”

Callie turned toward the noise with an annoyed sigh. “Dread, KNOCK IT OFF!”

“I be innocent as a newborn babe, lass! T’ain’t me fault that Rennie here be so easy to rile!”

“DON’T CALL ME RENNIE!”

The two continued to bicker as Callie rolled her eyes and turned back to Maddie. “And you want me to take him to my house? Why not just ship him back to No Place?”

Another shrug from the vet. “He came in today with a note pinned to his back from his crew.” She slid it toward Callie. ’Don’t let him come back until he’s less of an ass.’

The redhead snorted out a laugh. “He’d never go home, then.”

“Right?” Maddie sighed, rubbing her temple. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but if he stays here, he’s gonna cause a multi-versal brawl. Just . . . take him for an hour. Two at most.”

“Have you forgotten I have my own gremlin at home? You think I can handle two of them?”

Maddie sat up straighter, clapping a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “I have the utmost faith in you, Madam MacPherson. Keeper of the Gremlins. Controller of the Most Troublesome.”

Callie heaved a defeated sigh. “Fine. I’ll take him. But if, no WHEN, this blows up in my face, you owe me.”

“I’ll make you a batch of my incredibly tantalizing lasagna. With extra ricotta.”

The redhead hissed in a breath. “Oh, you temptress.”

“I may even make it for you anyway. I know this is a big ask.”

“Yeah, but you’re right,” Callie said, glancing over to where Dread and Ren were starting to throw hands. “He’s in rare form today. Maybe a change of scenery will help.”

“Thanks, Cal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed herself away from the counter, clapping her hands as she walked closer to the two fighting echidna. “Break it up, boys! Dread, you’re coming with me. We’re going on a field trip.”

~X~X~X~

Silver sat on the couch with Eclipse, trying to catch up in Mario Kart. He’d gotten better over the last few months, but still had trouble with curves.

“I’m so gonna beat you!” the darkling laughed as he maneuvered his way around the track. “You’re so slow.”

The hedgehog didn’t answer. He focused on his car, moving his thumbs over the controls to try and gain some ground.

He’d just started the second lap when the portal that led to the Sanctuary opened. He didn’t quite understand everything about this magic place his mom went to. Something about it being another dimension, one that didn’t follow the normal rules of time. She would go through, and then come back a few seconds later, even though she would say she’d been there for a long time.

Silver kinda wanted to see what this place was like. Mom said there were a lot of different Knuckles there—like that one Spiderman movie with all the different versions—and they have fun sometimes, but sometimes there are fights, or it’s sad and she helps them not be sad. He didn’t doubt that—his mom was really good at helping people feel better.

He normally didn’t pay a whole lot of attention when she came back, but today she wasn’t alone. The portal opened in the archway between the living room and kitchen, and she walked out as usual, but someone followed. He looked a lot like the Knuckles they knew, but he was dressed in funny clothes.

He looked like a pirate!

“Cool!” Silver gasped, dropping his controller and rushing over to where his mom and this new Knuckles stood. “Hi! You look so cool!”

The echidna startled, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, when Callie reached down to grab his wrist.

“No swordplay,” she said, her voice stern. The Knuckles flicked his eyes to her, then back to Silver, a look of confusion on his muzzle. “These are my boys. My sons. Silver the Hedgehog, and Eclipse the Darkling.”

Silver gave a little wave at his name, and he heard Eclipse pause the game and wander over.

“Who’s that?” the darkling asked, crossing his arms. “Why’s he dressed so weird?”

“Eclipse, don’t be rude,” Callie sighed, and a frown passed over the echidna’s face.

“I be the legendary captain Knuckles the Dread.” He raised his hand in a flourish as he flashed a smile, the light shining off his gold tooth. “The strongest, most dangerous pirate on the seven seas of No Place.”

Silver’s ears flicked back slightly. A pirate? Weren’t pirates mean? His mom wouldn’t bring a mean pirate home, would she?

Beside him, Eclipse’s body language changed, and he wore an excited smile.

“A pirate??” he exclaimed, moving forward and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “That’s so cool! Do you attack other pirates? Do you swing on ropes around your ship? Do you have sword fights?” He gasped. “Can I see your sword??”

“Eclipse, pull it back, kiddo,” Callie said, moving to push the darkling back a little. “Dread is here as a guest for a few hours today. You will both be polite and not crowd him, or ask all sorts of nosy questions.”

“Nonsense!” the pirate cried, moving forward to pat Eclipse on the shoulder. “They be curious ‘bout the life and adventures of such a far-traveled pirate! Ye can’t begrudge them a few tales, can ye, lass?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Eclipse said, trying his best to give her puppy dog eyes. “C’mon! I wanna hear some pirate stories from a real life pirate!”

Silver flicked his eyes back and forth between his brother, the echidna, and his mom. She seemed pretty calm. If Dread was dangerous, he theorized, she wouldn’t have brought him here in the first place, and would be much more protective. He relaxed some, his ears returning to a more upright position.

Pirate stories did sound pretty cool.

“Did you ever find treasure?” he asked, and Dread smiled wide.

“Oh, lad,” he said, throwing an arm around each boy and bringing them close. “Ye have no idea.”

~X~X~X~

Dread was in his element. He stood before the boys, telling tales of his greatest adventures, gesturing and miming his actions as he spoke. They were enthralled—eyes wide and cheering in just the right places.

He flicked his eyes over to Callie, and the lass sat to the side, a small smile on her lips. She shook her head slightly occasionally. Okay, maybe he was . . . embellishing a bit. Just a bit. Just enough to keep the boys’ attention.

This felt good. Felt right. Having all eyes on him, admiring his feats. No one at the Sanctuary gave him this much attention. Not without ridiculing him, or doubting every word he said. There he felt as though he were constantly being judged, constantly dismissed. Tolerated at best.

But here? He felt welcomed. Valued. Appreciated.

And it made a warmth spread in his chest. It was a feeling he’d never really experienced before, and he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Yessir, this was a nice change of pace.

~X~X~X~

Callie gave a little eye roll as Dread continued his tales. She’d heard most of these before—Dread wasn’t shy about telling others of his deeds—but the details seemed to be a bit . . . stretchy. There were more foes than she remembered, the kraken was much bigger, (oh, and now there were two), and some of the timelines didn’t seem to add up.

But, whatever. He was having fun, no one was fighting, and the boys seemed completely spellbound by his stories. She was checking this as a win.

~X~X~X~

Eclipse leaned closer as Dread spoke of monsters and battles, treasure and triumph. He was so cool! Not like the Knuckles they knew. Knuckles Wachowski may have been the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy at one time, but now he was more interested in gardening and doing yoga. Always talking about how ‘fighting is only a last resort’ and ‘live a life of virtue’ and blah blah blah.

What a load of bunk. Eclipse was a weapon. A soldier built specifically to fight and win. Sure, he liked not having to fight now, and living with his mom and brother was a lot better than his life on the Black Comet, but that didn’t mean he was some weak pushover! Dread’s life sounded so fun!

The pirate finished up another story, and Eclipse cheered.

“That was awesome! I wanna be a pirate! Mom, can I be a pirate like Dread?”

“’Course ye can, lad!” Dread answered before Callie could open her mouth. “In fact, both ye and yer brother here c’n be honorary members of me crew!”

The two boys moved in sync, hopping to their feet and flashing him a salute. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away,” Callie said, just as her phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket, giving it a tap to answer. “Hello? Linda? What’s wrong?”

Eclipse sighed, rolling his eyes. Linda was one of the other ladies who worked at the library. She was nice and all, but kinda boring. She always seemed nervous around him. He didn’t know why—he’d only almost bit her that one time. Almost. Hardly something to hold a grudge about, really.

“Is he okay? Good. Come in? Oh, I can’t, I have . . .” She glanced at Dread. “Company. From out of town. Call Karen and see if she can . . . oh she can’t?” She sighed. “Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

She hung up and turned to the three by the couch. “I have to head into work. Linda’s son broke his arm and they’ve gotta run him to the hospital.”

“Oh,” Silver said, his ears flicked back. “Is Jake okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just needs his arm set.” She chewed her lip slightly, her eyes on the echidna. “Dread, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“’Course, lass.”

He followed her to the kitchen, just as Eclipse turned to Silver.

“Remember when I said Knuckles wasn’t cool?” Silver nodded. “I take it back. This one is soooo cooool.”

~X~X~X~

Callie led Dread into the kitchen, around the island to speak quietly with him.

“I’ve gotta head into work, and can’t take the boys with me.” She paused, pulling her lips tight. These next words out of her mouth were really gonna hurt. “I need to know I can trust you to watch over them for an hour.”

Her voice was soft, but firm, her eyes locked with his. She didn’t want to do this. This wasn’t an ideal scenario. On any other day, she would have simply closed the library for emergency reasons, but there was a book club meeting there in 20 minutes and she couldn’t leave them in the lurch.

Dread looked back, a little scowl on his face.

“Lass, ye offend me,” he said, crossing his arms. “When have I ever shown meself as untrustworthy?”

She gave him a look. One that essentially said ‘Do you want that answer alphabetically, or in order of importance?’

He seemed to catch her meaning, and dropped the scowl with a guilty smile.

“Aye, that be a bit of bad phrasing on my part,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. He stood straighter, bringing his fist to his chest. “I give ye me word, lass. I’ll guard them with me life.”

A little smirk curled her lip, and she gave a slight chuckle. “Not sure that will be necessary, but I appreciate the thought.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a little squeeze. “God forgive me for what I’m about to say, but . . .”

She took a breath, pulling her lips tight.

“Dread, you’re in charge.”

~X~X~X~

Silver sat at the kitchen table, watching Eclipse and Dread rummage through the fridge. There were plenty of leftovers, and before his mom left she said they could have what they wanted if they were hungry.

“Blimey!” Dread had exclaimed when Eclipse opened the fridge door. He reached his hand inside with an expression of wonder. “It be colder than a witch’s—” He caught himself, flicking his eyes to the boys before clearing his throat. “I mean, heh, it be mighty cold in this cupboard.”

“It helps keep food fresh,” the hedgehog said as he moved closer to pull out some leftover macaroni and cheese. “The cold makes sure it doesn’t spoil as fast.”

“Bloomin’ brilliant,” the pirate muttered as he peered into the shelves.

Eclipse piled leftover spaghetti on his plate, shoving a forkful into his mouth before crinkling his nose. “Ugh, too cold.”

“I’ll warm it up,” Silver said, priming his power to move the plate to the microwave. Eclipse balked, waving him away as he carried the plate over himself.

“I can do it!”

“Mom says you’re not allowed to use the microwave. Not after what happened last time.”

Eclipse waved a dismissive hand, uttering an annoyed ‘tch’. “Mom’s not here, is she? And that was weeks ago. Ancient history.”

The darkling popped the plate into the microwave and pressed a few buttons. The machine hummed to life, but shortly thereafter it began to spark and issue loud snaps. Silver gasped.

“You forgot to take your fork off the plate again!”

“You distracted me!”

“Get it out!”

“I will, don’t rush me!”

Eclipse turned to reach for the microwave door, when Dread jumped in front of him, pushing the boy back and drawing his sword.

“Watch yerself, lad! That be dangerous!”

And with that, the pirate swung his sword, slashing the microwave and cleaving it in two. It fell to the counter with a mighty crash.

Silver’s eyes went wide. Oh. Ohhh no.

“You killed our microwave!” he yelled, his hands pressed to this cheeks. This was so bad. “Mom’s gonna kill us!”

Dread looked confused, snapping his head back and forth from Silver to the now greatly deceased machine. “I thought . . . it be sparkin’ like a lightning storm, and I didn’t . . .”

The cats’ automatic feeder kicked in then, startling Dread, who spun and hurled his sword toward the new sound. It struck the feeder, splitting the side and spilling dry food all over the floor. Much to Bloom’s delight.

Silver shrieked. “Stop breaking things!”

“It ain’t me fault!” Dread cried back, hurrying over to pull his sword free.

“What are we gonna do??” Silver cried, wringing one of his long head spikes. “Mom’s gonna be so mad when she sees this!”

“Calm down, we’ll just . . . fix it,” Eclipse shrugged, poking at the pieces of microwave littering the counter. “Think Tails could come over?”

Silver shook his head. “Tails can’t fix that! It’s destroyed!”

“Then we’ll just get a new one!” the darkling yelled, throwing his arms over his head. “How much could they cost? $20?”

“Do you have $20?”

“No!”

“THEN HOW ARE WE GONNA BUY A NEW ONE??”

“I DON’T HEAR ANY IDEAS FROM YOU!!”

“QUIET!!”

Dread’s shout snapped the two out of their argument, and they turned to him. He sheathed his sword, walking toward them with a contemplative expression.

“Yellin’ and fussin’ ain’t gonna solve nothin’,” he said, stopping with his hands on his hips. “We need a plan. Be there any shops in town that carry those warming box things?”

The boys exchanged a glance, and Silver nodded. “Charlie’s should. They have a bunch of stuff like fridges and washing machines and stuff.”

The echidna nodded. “Then we go to this Charlie’s and see what we can do to get a new one.”

“But we don’t have any money.”

Dread smiled, in a smirky, confident kind of way. “Ye leave that to me.”

~X~X~X~

Ten minutes later and they were walking into town. Most of the townspeople didn’t really bat an eye at them, but Dread’s outfit drew some double takes. Eclipse supposed they weren’t expecting to see the red echidna they were used to dressed up like a pirate.

“What’s it like being a pirate?” the darkling asked. All of Dread’s stories sounded so fun. “Is it hard?”

“Oh, the pirate life be full of danger and adventure,” Dread said, a fond smile on his face. “Sometimes more danger than adventure, and there be plenty o’ times I nearly got me head handed t’ me, but it be the only life I know.”

“Don’t you have to . . . hurt people, if you’re a pirate?”

Eclipse flicked his eyes to his brother. Part of him wanted to feel annoyed at the hedgehog’s sensitivity to things like this, but another part fully understood Silver’s point of view. The world Silver came from was hard and violent and scary. Not something he wanted to relive.

Dread seemed to sense the boy’s mood, and he curled an arm around Silver’s shoulders to pull him close.

“Aye, sometimes there be no avoidin’ a battle,” he said, his voice soft. “Sometimes fighting be all we can do to keep ourselves safe. We try not to seek out fights, but we deal with ‘em if they come to us.”

Silver seemed to think about this. “So you’re . . . defending yourselves.”

Dread nodded, that smirk on his face again. “Aye. We defend ourselves and what be ours.”

“I guess that’s okay.”

“It’s not just okay, it sounds awesome!” Eclipse said, moving to walk backward in front of them. “Think you could teach me to sword fight? Man, I wanna come to your world and fight a kraken! I bet I could take it!”

The echidna cocked an eyebrow at the boy. “Do ye even know what a kraken be?”

Eclipse felt his muzzle warm. “I dunno. Like a big turtle?”

“’Fraid not, me lad,” Dread said with a chuckle. “It be a giant leviathan from the depths of the ocean. A creature longer than most ships and bearin’ a grudge against anything that breathes the air. It wraps its thick tentacles ‘round yer boat and drags it below the waves, to drown everyone aboard and eat them at its leisure.”

A beat of silence. “I could still take it.”

Dread barked out a loud laugh. “I bet ye could, lad. I bet ye could. Ye have the soul of a pirate, ye do, with the bravery to match.” He leaned a bit closer, dropping his voice. “Though don’t tell yer mum I said such a thing. She’d box me ears somethin’ good.”

Eclipse nodded with a smile. He wasn’t exactly sure what ‘box me ears’ meant, but he got the gist of it. His mom could get a little scary when angry. And a little over protective when it came to him and Silver. If she found out Dread was encouraging any dangerous or risky behavior, he’d be on the receiving end of that anger.

And even a seasoned pirate didn’t want to face her wrath.

“There’s Charlie’s,” Silver said, pointing across the street.

Dread nodded. “Aye. Let’s get what we came for.”

~X~X~X~

The building was larger than any shop Dread had ever been in. It held many different machines, and he could only guess what they were made for. Since they were designed for humans, most were larger than him. This world made him feel so much smaller than his own. It was unnerving.

He let the boys take the lead, since this was their world, and they were more comfortable navigating it. He still kept a sharp eye and ear on their surroundings—he’d promised the lass he would care for them, and come hell or high water, he would. They would not be harmed under his watch.

“Over here,” Silver called as he headed down an aisle. Dread followed, and they soon found themselves before a row of boxes with a picture of a microwave on the front. “This one looks like ours.”

“Aye.”

Dread stepped forward, and pulled the box off the shelf. It was heavier than he expected, but nothing his strength couldn’t handle. He hoisted it over his head, turning to the boys.

“Now what?” Eclipse asked.

The echidna paused. He was at war with himself.

Part of him wanted to do this the right way. Callie had trusted him, and he wanted so badly to make her proud, to do right and prove her trust in him was well placed. That part said to go to the owners of the shop, discuss terms, and see if there was some deal they could make. He had some gold in his jacket pocket, but he didn’t know how it compared to the currency of this world.

“What be the price on this?”

Silver looked at a little tag on the shelf. His ears flicked backwards. “Two hundred dollars.”

Eclipse grimaced. “That’s . . . a lot more than $20.”

Dread gave a little hum as he thought. He had no idea what a ‘dollar’ was, but he didn’t have that many gold pieces on him. He supposed he could have gone back to No Place to get more, but honestly, that was a lot of hassle, and he was getting impatient. He didn’t know when Callie would return home, and wanted this solved quickly.

And the other part of him, the part that told him all that ‘do the right thing’ stuff was a load of bollocks, slowly got louder.

It looked like there was only one solution.

“Ye know, this Charlie be pretty selfish to keep all these to himself,” he said, keeping his voice casual. “Look how many be on the shelf. He won’t miss one.”

Silver turned to him, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Are you saying we should . . .” His voice dropped low, and he looked around. “Steal it??”

“It all be a matter of perspective, lad. If ye were really hungry, would ye steal a loaf of bread?”

The boys exchanged a glance. Eclipse shrugged.

“I guess,” Silver said, pulling his head spike around to squeeze and twist. “But this isn’t the same, is it? You can’t eat a microwave.”

“Nay, but ye can make food in the thing.” He shrugged. “It be a gray area.”

The hedgehog continued to worry at his head spike, and now pulled his lip in to chew on. Dread flicked his eyes to Eclipse, who seemed less bothered with the whole situation. “Ye understand, don’t ye, lad?”

Eclipse seemed to consider things for a moment, before turning to his brother.

“C’mon Silver,” the darkling said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “It’s not like he’s even gonna notice it missing.”

“Can I help you kids?”

The three froze, and slowly turned to see an older man standing at the end of the aisle. His eyes flicked up to the microwave over Dread’s head, and the echidna’s pirate instincts kicked in.

“RUN FOR IT, LADS!”

And without bothering to check on the boys, Dread sprinted toward the front door.

~X~X~X~

Eclipse’s tail went rigid when Dread took off. He left them?? He was this cool pirate and he left them??

Snapping his head back around, he saw the look on Mr. Charlie’s face. First he was confused, then shocked. Then he was mad.

Oh. Oh no.

“It’s not what you think!” Silver was saying, his hands held out in front of him. Eclipse lunged forward to grab his brother’s wrist, before teleporting them back to the front of the store.

~X~X~X~

The door was in sight. Dread ran for it, holding his prize high above his head. All he had to do was get through that door, and he’d be good as gold.

Right now he wasn’t thinking about Callie. He wasn’t thinking about the two boys he left back in that aisle. He was running on ‘pirate brain’, consumed with winning and doing what he wanted, what he needed, to get his mission accomplished.

And that’s when he was hit in the middle by a screeching darkling.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble!” Eclipse yelled as he wrestled with Dread. The microwave went flying, and the echidna was surprised at the strength and agility the boy possessed. He tried to grab him to pull him off, but the darkling was too quick.

“Get off me!” he bellowed, right before he suddenly realized he couldn’t move. Glancing to his left, he found Silver with his hands extended out. A strange cyan glow surrounded them, the same glow that held him and the microwave captive. “By Neptune’s beard . . .”

“I’m sorry!” Silver said, his voice shaky and high-pitched. “I’m sorry but you can’t steal!”

Dread tried to break free from this strange hold, but his muscles would not obey him. It was as if he were completely frozen. Paralyzed. He struggled for another moment, before uttering a frustrated growl and giving up.

“Aye, lad,” he said with a sigh. “Ye got me. I surrender.”

~X~X~X~

Callie sat at the red light, lips pulled tight and feeling like the top of her head was about to explode.

Dread sat beside her, in the passenger seat, and he kept his gaze out the window. Her boys were in the back seat, and the microwave she apparently had to buy because the one at her house had met with an unfortunate fate was tucked in the cargo area of her Subaru.

No one said anything. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to speak anyway, considering how angry she was. At least not without a lot of colorful words sprinkled into the mix.

When she got the call to come to Charlie’s, she’d just seen the last of the book club out and was about to lock up anyway. Good thing. Because apparently the supposed adult she put in charge of her children had thought it a good idea to take them to be accomplices to attempted larceny.

At least Charlie had been understanding. Well, as understanding as he could be in such a strange situation. Trying to explain to him that this was a Knuckles, but not the Knuckles he was familiar with had taken a few tries. But when it suddenly clicked—”Like that Spiderman movie?”—he’d been much more willing to just let everything go.

Which was more than she was willing to do.

The light turned green and she pulled away. The ride to her house was a quiet one. She flicked her eyes to the rearview mirror, and saw two guilty looking kids in the back. Well, one guilty, and one pretty pissed kid. Eclipse kept shooting Dread dirty looks. He’d really been enthralled by the pirate, and when Dread essentially ditched them in favor of saving his own skin, it apparently left a sour taste in the darkling’s mouth. She didn’t blame him, really.

And she honestly wasn’t mad at them. They had done the right thing in the end and stopped Dread from running out with the microwave. That made her pretty proud, actually.

She pulled into her driveway, killing the engine and turning in her seat to talk to her boys.

“You two head on inside. We’ll be in in a minute.”

They nodded quickly, and hurried into the house. Callie turned to Dread, a finger tapping on the steering wheel.

“An hour. I was barely gone for one freaking hour.”

Dread said nothing, his back still turned to her.

“I trusted you.”

A beat of silence. “Aye. I know.”

She sighed, sitting back in her seat, tilting her head back against the rest. “Suppose it’s not your fault. You are how you are. I knew that and trusted you anyway.”

Now he turned, his lip curled in a snarl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?” she asked, turning to him with her own snarl. “You’re a pirate! Knuckles the Dread! I should’ve known you’d do something to try and warp my kids’ minds to your pirate ways.”

His snarl became more pronounced. “I did nothing to those lads. I would not hurt them.”

“No, instead you dragged them off to shoplift a microwave!”

“There be a problem, and I found a solution!”

“A problem YOU caused!”

“It weren’t me fault! I was tryin’ to make ye proud!”

Callie uttered a sharp laugh, her temper flaring. “Proud?? For making my boys accomplices to your crime?? I trusted you! THEY trusted you! Do you realize just how badly you messed up? Those boys come from really bad childhoods! They were both used and abused by someone they trusted, someone who should have taken care of them. They—”

“SO WAS I!” he shouted, his hands curled into fists. “Ye don’t know anything about me childhood. I be a child of five when taken by a cruel man. He . . . his crew . . . they did the most awful things to me. I be just a child and they hurt me. Tortured me. I had to turn into this to survive.”

Callie quieted, and just stared at him. She didn’t know that. She didn’t really know anything about his childhood. He had always acted like being a pirate was the only thing he’d ever wanted. But, now that she thought about it, he’d always said it was the only thing he’d ever known. That was different, wasn’t it?

“Yer boys be good lads,” he said, some of the anger fading from his tone. “And aye, I admit it made me feel good to see them look up to me. To see their excitement when I told me tales.” He sighed, sitting back in his seat. “And ye be right. I could’ve done things diff’rently. Seen if I had enough gold on me to cover the cost. But instead I let me pirate instincts kick in and caused ye all this trouble.”

Silence descended over them, and Callie’s anger dissipated. She saw Dread in a different light now, and recognized the hurt little boy he used to be. Yes, he was a gremlin. Yes, he caused trouble and poked at the others and started fights. Yes, he seemed to behave in ways that were almost self-destructive.

But she’d seen that before, hadn’t she? When Eclipse first came, he’d acted out very similarly before he acclimated to the family. (And honestly, even now he could devolve into gremlin mode every now and then.) It was all a cover for the hurt he still carried. The pain from a life of abuse.

And sometimes that pain caused anger, and selfishness, and violence born of fear. Fear of being loved. Fear of being hurt again.

She could have kicked herself. Dread was suffering from the same trauma her own children were. And she’d never seen it.

“Those pirate instincts are what kept you alive,” she said, her voice softer.

Dread stared at his feet. “Don’t make what I did right.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She quieted. “Dread, I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, letting out a tired sigh. “I didn’t want ye to. Didn’t want anyone to. Me childhood be something I try to forget. Try to ignore. Pretend it happened to someone else. ‘Cause if I think about it, remember it, it would drive me mad.”

A quiet moment passed. The familiarity of his past trauma was almost funny. She seemed to attract the aliens with the abusive childhoods, while the Wachowskis attracted the ones with the abandonment issues.

Considering her own past, she supposed it was a case of like attracting like, only on a much more universal scale.

Callie reached over to cup his muzzle and turn his face back toward her.

“Our pasts hurt us whether we want to remember them or not,” she said, a sad smile on her lips. “My boys . . . they remember their pasts. Still have nightmares about them. I can’t change their past, or take those memories away. But what I can do, is try really hard to make sure their present has as much love and happiness as I can possibly give them.”

He stared at her, and his eyes grew shiny.

“They be lucky to have ye,” he whispered.

Callie’s heart nearly broke in half. For all his bravado, all his boasting and confidence and arrogance, Dread was still a lost little boy, trying to find someone who would love him.

“Ya know,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his muzzle, where a tear may or may not have fallen. “The boys seem to be under this really weird impression that you’re cool. So, I guess, if you wanted to, you could hang out here whenever you wanted.” She gave him a more stern look. “So long as you keep the crime sprees to an absolute minimum. Like zero.”

His eyes grew wide. “Ye . . . ye still want me around?”

She shrugged. “What kind of person would I be if I let a little thing like microwave destruction and attempted theft push away someone whom I consider one of my best friends?”

He froze. “B-best . . . ?”

“One of,” she said, keeping her voice light. “In the top five. It varies. Sometimes minute-by-minute.”

Dread stared at her for another moment, before a smile spread across his muzzle. “Ye be an angel, lass,” he said, and he blinked quickly to hide his tears. “An absolute angel made flesh.”

Callie wrinkled her nose, uttering a little grunt. “Ugh, don’t get all mushy and make this weird. C’mere.”

She pulled him to her, and took his hat off to rest their foreheads together.

“You ever need anything,” she said, her voice soft, “you come to me. Understand? You ever feel like you’re gonna explode if you don’t talk about something, or if your past is poking at you more than usual, or just need someone to be there, you come to me. Anytime. No judgment. My home is your home now. And you are part of my family. Don’t argue with me, just accept it.”

At first Dread didn’t seem like he knew what to do, how to feel. But after a moment he relaxed against her, and brought his hand up to cup the back of her neck to hold her to him more firmly.

“Aye,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It be an honor to join your family.”

They sat like that for a moment, before pulling away. Callie gave him a little smirk, and dropped his hat back in place as she turned for her door.

“C’mon. Let’s get the new microwave in and then you need to have a little chat with a couple of boys.”

“Aye. Yes, ma’am.”

~X~X~X~

Eclipse sat on the couch with Silver. He crossed his arms, trying not to look at the stupid pirate standing before them.

His mom seemed to have forgiven Dread. They’d sat out in the car for a while after getting home and he’d watched through the window. They seemed like they were yelling for a bit, which was good because he wanted Dread to get into trouble. He was supposed to be this cool guy, this much cooler version of the Knuckles they knew. But instead he was just some jerk who ran off to let him and Silver get in trouble for something that was his idea.

Dread stood with his hands behind his back, a serious expression on his face. After standing quietly for a moment, he coughed into his fist before speaking.

“Yargh, I suppose an apology be in order for the way I behaved back in the shop.”

“You ditched us!” Eclipse snapped, his muzzle curled in a snarl. “You were gonna leave us to get into trouble!”

“Aye. I did.”

“The Knuckles we know wouldn’t do that,” Silver said, crossing his own arms. He wasn’t as angry as Eclipse, but wasn’t overly happy with Dread, either. “He’s a good friend and always does what he thinks is right.”

Dread shrugged. “I ain’t him.”

“No kidding,” Eclipse asked, jumping off the couch to get in Dread’s face. His arm spikes flared, tail flicking in angry whips. “I thought you were cool. You told such awesome stories. But you’re just a jerk and all those stories are probably lies, too!”

The echidna kept his composure, but a little smirk curled the corner of his lips. “Oh lad, they all be true. They be the more tame stories. There be many others, some would give ye nightmares for a week.”

Eclipse paused. More stories? With more danger?

He narrowed his eyes, casting a suspicious glance at the pirate. “Like what?”

A grin split Dread’s lips, and he tossed a glance over his shoulder. Callie was distracted in the kitchen, cleaning the messes from the old microwave and split cat feeder. The echidna turned back, leaning forward and speaking in a low, conspirator-like whisper.

“Like the time I single-handedly took down two pirate ships, while in the middle of a monsoon, and a kraken decided to have me for its lunch!”

Eclipse’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“May lightning strike me down if I be lyin’.”

Silver took a moment to look to the skies outside, while Eclipse grabbed Dread’s wrist. He dragged the pirate behind him, heading for the kitchen door.

“We’re going outside, just to play and not to hear any more pirate stories that may be too scary for Silver!” he said, barely putting space between his words.

“Hey!” Silver whined, hurrying out after them. “I’m not scared!”

~X~X~X~

Callie smiled as she watched her boys through the window. Silver and Eclipse sat on the deck, watching as Dread gestured and mimed and told his grand—and in no way embellished—stories of his life as a pirate.

An eventful day, but everything worked out.

Her boys were happy. Dread was happy. She was happy.

Yep. She’ll call that a win.

#sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction #knucklesverse #knuckles the dread #eclipse the darkling #silver the hedgehog #callie macpherson #maddie wachowski

20 notes · View notes

visxionaries · 9 months

Text

who: @ofgoldengrove where: the council chamber, following mathis rowan’s first introduction back to the council of the reach. the room was empty now, and the two men remained sat within the great council chamber.

the reactions had been incredibly mixed; and yet if there was one thing that seemed to sear into the mind of the king, it was the incredible silence. so rare was it for silence to fall upon the personalities who sat on the reach council table, and yet, it felt as though they could hear their own hearts beating. he had not realised that he was holding the breath in his chest until he felt as though he were going to burst, and those in the room would not deny the fact that ocean hues glazed over in a sense of shock. that this was reality.

though the matter had been quietly discussed with tirius, the possibility of it being true, he had been sure - so sure, it was false. so sure it would be another test some cruel figure in the sky had decided to throw in his path. and the king of the reach had hugged mathis rowan as though it was the last time he could - only, it now felt like the first time. it had been months since most had seen such a break in his demeanour, had seen a lively spirit that wore no crown; they saw it then. as emotional and volatile as it was.

was this not cruel? they now sat in somewhat comfortable silence as the last individual left the room, closing the door behind them; and all cedric could help wondering was why whatever gods the others seemed to have so much faith and love for would ever do such a thing. what sort of a test was this? for mathis rowan, for the rowans themselves, for all of those who had loved and mourned him. it was not a king who had stood before them those months ago to report his death, his eyes stricken and red with grief; he had made no attempts to hide the tears he had shed.

“do you want a drink?”

the death of mathis rowan had made him so utterly human. it had made him feel so incredibly human, and vulernable, and cut open. he thought it would hurt less if he was cut open a hundred times over, for he did not only think of what he had done, but he thought of what he could have had done. he thought of what should have been. made him feel as though his very side had been ripped open, as though someone, some presence, had been ripped from his side.

and now, the life behind the eyes of mathis rowan made him feel something he was not entirely sure what to call. made him feel as though his heart would burst out of his chest, and stop, all at once. as though he had everybody and had nobody, all at once. for his death, the news of the corpse, was enough to set fire to whatever was left within him; whatever sense of morality wished for him to not carry the name of kinslayer. for regardless of it all, cedric tyrell had loved his brother. he wondered why it was their family needed to rip itself apart, just as the targaryens had done. was it their punishment for not following in their oath?

“...didn’t think i’d ever ask you that again.” and there was a laugh that came from him. it was shaky. he rested his hand on his cheek, looking upon his best friend. he truly was sat there. he was there. seven fucking hells.

what was it that mathis was even looking upon now? who was it? it was mathis who knew best how much cedric had not wanted to kill his only brother. it was mathis rowan who knew why cedric had resisted, time and time again. it was mathis rowan who lost the love his life because of it. it was cedric who lost his true brother because of it. so why did it still feel as though his chest was ready to cave in?

#c: mathis #mathis 005 #let us die young or let us live forever ; a taste of power and never say never (cedric&mathis)#and what left is golden within second sons: if not for the rose and the groves (cedric&mathis)

10 notes · View notes

princessmoonies · 2 years

Text

Kung Lao’s Sun Sign

Sun in Leo

{Positive: Generous, Faithful, Brave, Creative, Entertaining, Vibrant, Joyful, Dignified, Masterful, He likes authority, He aspires toward an ideal. He likes to give advice. He is Honest, Frank, Loyal, Open, and Sincere.

Negative: Bossy, Domineering, Lazy, Overbearing, Conceited, Vain, Patronizing, Dramatic Pride, Vanity, Arrogance, Presumption and Disdain for others.

Kung Lao being a Leo is like a reward. It’s an honest to god reward, because Leo is the only sign I thought of when I think of Kung Lao. Yes it’s mostly cause of Lao being conceited, (I think his inferiority complex heightens it) Lao makes himself important, he’s the descendant of GKL, he beat the deadly alliance, he beat Goro and Kintaro and hell before Shao Khan got back up, he beat his ass too. His vanity to other characters can be annoying but it’s well earned, it’s well deserved, if no one was gonna honk his horn Lao was certain to do it himself, polish the horn while at it cause fuck he deserves praise.

Before they retconned him, Lao was aggressively peaceful, he didn’t like fighting and honestly didn’t even want to be the champion he just wanted a life of peace, and in leu of him being in a fighting game, was gonna get that peace one way or another *Cracks Knuckles* once they retconned him. He still didn’t want to be Champion, he just wanted to show that he was equal to Liu Kang.

Also, I think personally, Kung Lao is motivated by others. He wants people (Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Jin, GKL) proud of him, he wants people to acknowledge his achievements, he wants people happy and he wants the realm he lives in safe.

Another personal thought about him, is ‘a Kung in motion, stays in motion, a Kung at rest, stays in rest’ Lao (or even Jin) when actively doing something, either around the temple, or a mission from Raiden/Fuijin/Bo’ or even the special forces he’ll do it. He’ll be incredibly focused on it and won’t stop until it’s done, however, if you catch Lao when he’s not doing anything purposefully, and ask him to do something or maybe when it's early and he’s still tired (I don’t think he’s a morning person by choice, yk?) he’ll weigh the pros and cons of doing what you asked of him, or instructions, classes, missions etc (if it’s not life threateningly important) decide if he even wants to do it (He rarely says no. He wants people happy) and if he doesn’t say no, he’ll go and do it (while complaining) but it won’t be done with the same gusto. Kung Lao at rest, who was made to move, is at his most creative, because he’s trying to do it in a way that manages to minimize his efforts but grants the most rewards or best outcome.

If it doesn’t work of course he’ll actually put effort or he’ll get even more creative cause he really didn’t want to do this in the first place so, he’ll take what he gets. Sure it messed up but he got there, did it, came back with what was needed so all in all, who cares? (This has gotten him wrung out a lot of times)

However, accuse him of being lazy when he isn’t oh he’s mad, cause why would you say that? He’ll get snarky, huffy, he won’t fly off the handle but he doesn’t like being accused of something when he wasn’t doing it. It’s almost as bad as assuming he did it for bad reasons, he may not be the elder god of virtue and he may have done stuff to avoid being bothered for a moment, but he never did anything for bad reasons. It’s also almost as bad as not appreciating his efforts, he’s not asking for the world or a parade or even like I dunno a statue in his honor *Wink* but he’d like a congratulations, he wants someone to acknowledge him, a head nod is not acknowledgement. Praise him, say he did good, thank him please even in passing just a quick ‘Oh thanks Kung Lao.” or even “Good Job Kung Lao.” maybe if you’re feeling appreciative just a quick “Appreciate it Kung Lao.” no snark needed just be nice to him please. (Of course for minor things, He wants a longer thanks or acknowledgement for his more complex or complicated achievements)

Another thing is Kung Lao is loyal, as a fixed sign they tend to weather the storm, they’ll stay even if they don’t really like it. So it kinda explains that even after Quan Chi died, why he stayed by Liu Kang’s side even though they all gained free-will, I also believe if he was given the recognition he deserves. Lao wouldn’t be as ‘obnoxiously’ conceited as some of the MK characters make him out to be, now I’m not saying he’d be humble he is not GKL now or even Liu Kang, but he’d probably puff up more, I believe Kung Lao is extremely self-aware, and very self-conscious, so he’s definitely aware of the conceited, self-absorbed show-offs reputation he made for himself and was given.

Tags: @turtleinamedow

#Kung Lao #Sun Sign: Leo #I hope we like this because I could do more on the rest

4 notes · View notes

rwprincess · 3 years

Text

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

#john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #fem!reader #the breakfast club #breakfast club #reader-insert #80s fanfic

237 notes · View notes

the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

The Other Woman

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Soooo. No one asked for this one and I have prompts in my inbox and a multi chapter Billy x OC story I'm working on. Yet… this happened. I was working on an assignment for uni and this popped into my head. Billy lives in my head rent free and I'm not even mad about it. Enjoy lmaooo

Warnings: cursing, slight angst but not really, lots of fluff (literally and figuratively). It's just a bunch of cute bullshit, don't mind me looool

---------

Your nails tapped the coffee cup as you sat outside the cafe deep in thought. There was only one thing on your mind. Billy was cheating on you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour the past week and the knowledge of what he'd done was eating away at you. It started a week ago. He'd slip out after work hours saying something came up. Sometimes he wouldn't even tell you where he was going and when you asked, he'd say 'work' as he avoided your gaze before slipping out. Billy couldn't lie to you, you knew him too well for that. You knew his tells and he didn't really lie to you. But you knew when he wouldn't look you in the eye that he wasn't being honest.

Then there was his phone. He'd be on it more than usual and it was distracting him. The night before, Frank had called him and you knew it was Frank because you'd seen the name popping up on his screen. You'd both been watching a movie on the sofa together as you tried to convince yourself that Billy wouldn't cheat on you. But when he excused himself to the bedroom, your curiosity burned. Why would he need to sneak off to speak to Frank?

So you'd crept over to where the door was open by a crack and held your breath as you listened.

"Yeah, I know…. I'll just tell her I need to work again… I don't think she knows… yeah, yeah, I know… I can't wait for you to meet her, man. She's perfect,"

Those words felt like a slap to the face and a punch to the gut all rolled into one. Billy was cheating on you. Billy was cheating on you and Frank knew about it. Frank who was one of your closest friends, the one who introduced you to Billy in the first place. You'd gone back to the sofa as you dwelled in your misery and betrayal and when Billy had come back out with a wide smile on his face you'd felt sick. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask him, to question him or tell him what you'd heard. You were scared of what he might say. Scared of what this all meant.

You and Billy had been together for almost two years now and you lived together. You knew of his past but never once had you felt insecure about being with him. He loved you, and you wholeheartedly believed he did. So this felt like it completely blindsided you and your head was all over the place.

That morning Billy was gone by the time you woke which was nothing new since he often let you sleep when he got up to work. But you'd come to the cafe by lunch because you were drowning in your thoughts back at home. The home you shared with him.

You blew out a breath, grabbing your cell from your pocket as you rang Anvil. You had a gut feeling and you wanted confirmation. His secretary picked up the phone and you sighed before asking something you dreaded the answer to.

"Hey, Annie. Is Billy there? I need to talk to him," you said softly. The older woman cleared her throat down the phone before speaking.

"He's not here, Y/N. He took the day off," she said warily. Well then. You thanked her quickly before hanging up, the lump lodged in your throat getting bigger.

How could it all have gone so wrong? You stood, tossing the half drank coffee in the trash as you made your way home with a broken heart. You hardly expected Billy to be sitting on the sofa when you got home. But there he was in all his glory. A burgundy sweater with his jeans and boots, hair slicked back like always. You felt like you were hanging on by a thread.

He smiled when he saw you, standing up and making his way over.

"I thought you had work," your cold tone stopped him in his tracks as he looked at you cautiously.

"I took the day, had some things I needed to do," he replied easily. Things he needed to do. More like someone he needed to do. Tense didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling.

"Look… there's someone here I want you to meet," Billy said hesitantly, glancing to the closed bedroom door. He really wouldn't just… The string of composure you were holding onto snapped.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" You yelled. He looked shocked, eyes wide and confused as he tilted his head.

"Uh… what?" He asked carefully.

"It's bad enough you're having an affair that apparently Frank knows all about but you've brought her here?! You want me to meet her?!" You were incredulous at his audacity. You wondered if he'd suffered a head injury a week ago or something.

Billy blinked at you with his dark eyes for a moment before he burst out laughing. But when he saw your tearful eyes glaring at him, his laughter died instantly.

"You… you think I'm cheatin' on you?" He asked slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. Your brows furrowed watching him warily as he walked over to you.

"You've been acting weird all week, Billy. And I heard you on the phone last night. I heard you talking to Frank," you muttered, hating how your voice wobbled.

Billy looked stricken at how upset you were and wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him despite yourself. He stroked your hair soothingly with one hand as the other rubbed your back.

"I'm not steppin' out on you, Y/N. I'd never do that," he sighed. He moved away, cradling your cheeks as his obsidian gaze looked over your face like he was searching for the answers of the universe.

"Not gonna lie, I'm a little offended by your lack of faith, but I have been actin' weird so I'll let it slide," he murmured with a soft smile.

"But then… what was that all about?" You asked, deflating a bit as he wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen. He leaned in and kissed you softly, one of the rare tender kisses he'd give you if you were upset. You were incredibly confused and maybe also felt a little guilty that your mind went there.

When he pulled away, he shot you a grin, looking almost like a kid on Christmas which only furthered your confusion.

"Wait here," he beamed, dashing off to the bedroom. You really felt like you'd been transported to another dimension where nothing made sense. But then Billy came back out with what you could only describe as a living, breathing, real life Pokemon in his arms. It was a Pomeranian puppy that just looked like a cloud with two shiny back eyes peeking out.

You made a noise that you couldn't even describe. A mix of a whine and a coo that people often reserved for cute animals and babies as if they couldn't help themselves. Your feet took you over to where Billy was grinning at you and the ball of fluff was nibbling his hand.

"Billy…" your voice was still a little high, a little pout on your face as you reached out and stroked the fluffy fur on the puppy.

"Meet Cotton Ball. Cotton Ball, meet your mom," he smirked, grabbing a tiny paw and making it wave at you. It was something to behold seeing Billy like this and you almost melted right into a puddle.

"Wait so… this is the other woman?" You asked with a snort, feeling so utterly stupid for how your mind went there. Billy rolled his eyes with a laugh as he handed over the bundle of cloud to you.

"Do you like her?" He asked hesitantly, looking almost unsure as he glanced from the puppy to you.

"I love her. Thank you, Billy," you murmured, cuddling the tiny puppy closer to you.

"I uh… I know that you said you wanted a dog," he started, his shoulder rolling a little.

"Which you shot down immediately," you cut in, raising a brow at him. He chuckled, rubbing his beard a little with a nod.

"I know. But… I saw how disappointed you were and I decided I never wanted to see that look on your face again. Especially not 'cause of me. She hadn't been fully vaccinated and stuff so I've been waitin' to bring her home. Been to see her a few times to get her used to me," he shrugged, looking almost bashful which was a strange look for him. It was cute.

"I love her. And I love you," you smiled wide at him. His insecurities seemed to wash away at your bright smile and he returned it, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

"I love you too. Come here, lemme show you somethin','' he took your free hand and led you to the bedroom. On the floor next to your bed was what looked like a queen bed shrunk down. It was a dog bed but a fancy one and the cozy sheets looked expensive too. There was also a basket filled to the brim with dog toys. You looked at him incredulously with a laugh.

"And here I was thinking you weren't a dog person and you're spoiling her already," you teased. He chuckled, a slight pink tint to his face you couldn't remember ever witnessing as he bit his lip and smiled at you.

"Yeah well… my girls gotta have the best. And… I mighta got attached to her," he shrugged easily.

"Billy Russo has a heart after all. Who knew?" You snorted. He gripped your jaw gently, giving your lips a firm peck before smirking down at you.

"Don't tell a soul or I'll have to kill you. I got a rep to keep," he smirked devilishly. You snorted again, shaking your head as you took the now sleeping puppy to her lavish bed and set her down.

When you walked back over to Billy, you wrapped your arms around his middle and he responded in kind and held you close.

"I can't believe you thought I'd cheat on you," he murmured, nuzzling your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up as you moved away and looked up at him.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just… you'd been acting weird and then the phone call, I didn't know what to think," you said softly. He frowned a little, tucking some of your hair behind your ear before resting a hand on your jaw.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"I know. Honestly… I've never questioned it. I've never felt like that before. My mind just ran away with itself," you felt bad now and really fucking stupid but he had been acting weird. How were you to know that he was secretly procuring you the cutest puppy to exist?

He kissed your forehead softly, lips lingering a moment before he cupped your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at him. His dark eyes were full of many emotions and you got lost in them.

"You're the only one I want. Ever since I met you, I never wanted anyone else. I ain't ever felt like this before but all I know is… I'm yours. I love you, Y/N. There'll never be anyone else," he murmured sincerely. You couldn't help the dopey smile on your face as you leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss.

"I love you too, Billy. But… I will have to share you now with Cotton Ball," you teased against his lips. He chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip.

"You'll always be my best girl," he grinned, rubbing his nose against yours.

One hand dropped to your neck, the other slinking around you and settling on your ass as he kissed you deeply. Just as you were really getting into it, he hissed, cursing and moving away as he lifted his foot. The foot that had tiny razor teeth latched onto it as the dog dangled off his toe. You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that came out of you as you pried the dog away from his foot.

"Feel like I might end up regrettin' this decision," he huffed, eyes narrowed at Cotton Ball who was now happily in your arms. He wasn't really mad though, his lips were slightly upturned as he reached out and rubbed the dogs tiny head.

"Awww. Is the big bad marine scared the lil doggy might bite his ass when he's having sex?" You mocked playfully.

Billy's mortified face had you in stitches. He looked like he'd not considered it until you said it and now he was glaring at the dog like she'd ready done it.

"We're gonna need some boundaries," he muttered to the dog as he pointed at her, then his piercing eyes turned to you and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"And for the record, I am a big bad marine and I ain't scared of a fuckin' dog," he smirked with a raised brow. You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly as you turned, dog in hand, and left the room.

"Mhmm. Just wait until I tell Frank how you're scared of a ball of fluff. Or the guys from Anvil. Or maybe I'll tell them just how much you love her already," you grinned, laughing when he gripped your hips and dragged you so your back pressed against his front.

"What I tell you? You tell and I'll have to kill you. I don't wanna do that, I might just miss you," he murmured with a smile as he nuzzled your neck.

"Russo's going soooft!" You teased with a laugh, squealing when his hands dug into your sides to tickle you.

Honestly, you never really thought Billy would be a dog person. But you never thought he'd be the type to live with someone and here you were. You never thought he'd be the type to use the L word yet he did with you. He was full of surprises and this was way better than you anticipated. You never expected the other woman to be so cute.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

459 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Wine Drunk - BLURB

@subspencer / @wheelsup and I briefly discussed this concept Thursday night and I... I just had to. I’m obsessed. I was going to post it later tonight, but I got impatient, so enjoy 😂😘

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: SPICY FLUFF Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy making out, second base Word Count: 1.3k

MASTERLIST

Spencer rarely drank, so you were actually quite surprised to see him take you up on your offer to 'watch movies and get drunk'.

Work that week had been rather headache-inducing, more so than usual, so you'd only said it as a joke to emphasize how draining the week had been. And surprisingly, Spencer agreed. In all honesty you had been prepared for him to just laugh and offer lots of snacks instead, movie nights actually pretty common for the both of you after a long work week. But his long sigh followed by agreement and how he could actually really use a drink or two made you happy.

It gave you an excuse to break out the new bottle of blackberry merlot you'd been dying to try since getting it as a Christmas gift from your sister a few months back. It was currently sitting in the fridge, waiting to be cracked open and enjoyed, and honestly you couldn't think of a better time to use it.

You went into the bedroom to change as Spencer made his way to your bathroom, using clothes from his go-bag to change as well. By the time you walked out in green and black plaid pajama bottoms and a loose grey tee shirt, hair thrown up in a ponytail, he was already on the couch, adorning a similar look— minus the ponytail. You laughed at the thought, reminiscing over when his hair was way longer, when you'd ask constantly to braid his hair.

You grabbed the wine from the fridge and two wine glasses from the cupboard before meeting him in the living room as he turned the TV on and scrolled through the channels until he found the Old Western movie channel.

"Why Westerns?" you asked, popping the wine open and starting to pour the first glass.

"Eh, it's something different. Besides, I think our focus will stray more towards getting drunk than actually paying attention, so..."

You laughed, handing him the first glass and pouring another for yourself. "Good assumption." Then you set the bottle back on the coffee table, leaned back, and held up your glass. "To... John Wayne."

Spencer smirked, amused, raising his glass all the same. "I don't think John Wayne is in this movie..."

"I don't care."

The two of you clinked glasses and took the first sips, settling back to your respective sides of the couch. It wasn't a long couch, so even though you were on opposite sides you could greatly feel body warmth radiating from one another. It was something you both became hyper-aware of the more you drank, which led to more drinking— something to do to keep your hands and mouths busy in an attempt to prevent any confessions or accidental touches.

The obvious sexual attraction you and Spencer felt towards one another only ever came out in the rare occasions where you were alone like that, close enough to touch and uninterrupted by any outside forces. But you'd repressed all of it, nervous for one thing due to your close friendship and fear of dismantling what you'd built from it. And for another, the both of you were so extremely bad at verbalizing romantic feelings in general that you didn't want to take any chances.

As the movie droned on, your wine glasses kept emptying, then re-filling until the entire bottle was gone, and every time you reached over to put it back on the table, you came back closer to Spencer. And now, your relaxed, wine-drunk brain was swimming as you leaned your body into his, curling up at his side and slowly resting your head on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but notice how good he smelled. You couldn't place what it was, some type of cologne maybe, or just his laundry soap, but it smelled so incredibly like him that you found yourself breathing him in, taking deep breaths and trying to inhale as much of it as possible.

But the more your nose searched for his smell, the closer it got to his skin, until it gently nudged the underside of his jaw, and you could slightly feel his throat as he swallowed. The movement didn't deter you, however, from dreaming about what it would be like to kiss the source of movement... To feel his Adams apple move as you traced it with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of his skin and feeling the vibrations as he moaned.

In your wine-drunk state, that thought is what spurred you forward, softly dragging your nose up his jawline as your eyes flicked up to catch him staring down at you. God, he was pretty...

But he seemed to be just as intrigued with the idea of tasting you as you were with him, because the moment your eyes locked, his flicked down to your lips before lingering there. You both moved closer and closer until your eyes were both inevitably closed, patiently waiting for something that was sure to feel like a dream.

The second Spencer's lips grazed yours, you sighed, letting him take as much of you as he wanted. The kiss was sweet, sure, but it wasn't until his lips parted and came back a little stronger, giving you more to taste, that you realized it wasn't actually a dream. He tasted of wine, and you knew you did, too. It was sweet and wet and bitter all at the same time, and it only got stronger the longer you reciprocated his actions.

The first time your tongues glided over each other, you both slumped forward, letting the feeling take over. Your kisses became long and drawn out, and a little uncoordinated due to your drunken haze, but that made it all the better— You didn't have the time to think or care about the imperfections of your first kiss. Rather, you lost yourself in the moment, glad to be this close to someone you loved and longed for all these years.

And that's why you didn't care that you were getting sloppy. If anything, the wetness of your kisses only added to the intensity of it all. You gave each other everything you had, offering yourselves to one another through kisses like you'd never been able to with words.

When his hand came up to cradle your face, butterflies swarmed your belly and up through your chest. You both adjusted a little, giving him the clearance to tilt his head and allow you access to deeper kisses. This in turn, of course, made you feral for more, a long sigh escaping as you pushed yourself into him and longed to get closer.

Spencer opened his mouth to you, and the opportunity couldn't have been more clear. So you took his tongue between your lips and sucked on it, eliciting a loud, throaty groan from him that sent another wave of heat through your body. You let his tongue go with a soft pop and smiled against his lips, pecking him a few times before resting your hands on his chest. "You liked that, huh?"

"Mhm," he offered in return, right before kissing you again.

You didn't want to stop.

And for hours, you didn't. After twenty more minutes of just making out, his thumb found its way into your mouth, and you whimpered around it as you looked him in the eyes and sucked on it for another two minutes.

And then eventually, his hand found its way up your shirt. He breathily explained that he didn't want to take advantage of you, and you laughed, taking his wrist and sliding his hand higher until it cupped your breast, telling him through slurred syllables, "It's okay. You can touch me... I want you to..."

You cycled through another movie and a half, his hands kneading your breasts gently while yours tugged at his hair, before you finally tired, your kisses slowing significantly until, finally, you rested with your foreheads pressed together.

Still a little hazy from the wine, though, you smiled, hearing him whisper, "I love you," before dozing off, John Wayne in a shootout on the screen in front of you.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore

TAGS NOT WORKING: @takeyourleap-of-faith

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get to it!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

445 notes · View notes

wasted-headspace-98 · 3 years

Text

Cataegis: Part III

Summary: An apprentice to the famed Mace Windu, your master has made sure you are strong with the Force. But, sometimes the Force has other plans. And you happen to be caught in the middle of them. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Nonexplicit sexual content, slow-burn, noncon elements (non explicit), underage elements (non explicit), inappropriate use of the force, etc Pairing: Sith!Obi-Wan x Reader Masterlist

Cataegis (n.) Latin word meaning tempestuous storm

Part I Part II

Power.

That’s what he felt.

There was no denying the waves of it that rolled off of you. It…confused him if he was being honest. He tried to make sense of it all, but there were so many factors to consider that it sent him reeling.

He sighed and rubbed his temple, sitting back on his heels. He hadn’t felt that much power from anyone aside from Anakin. The thought made him frown. During his time training Skywalker, he could sense the turbulent emotions within him. It was like a raging storm that held no end in sight. His Padawan allowed his emotions to guide him. Looking back, he realized that he should have seen the signs and snuffed them out sooner. But, he digresses.

There was no use in dwelling on things stuck in the past.

But you were right there. In front of him, and in the present.

He couldn’t figure out what the point was in the Force binding the two of you together. It was a puzzle that he didn’t have all the pieces to. And it frustrated him to no end.

She’s not a sentinel, that’s for sure, he thought to himself. So why does she conduct herself as one?

From what he knew about the training of temple Sentinels, you had gone through no such thing. In fact, it was incredibly rare for one of them to take a Padawan learner. The Sentinel duty seemed to be ingrained in a youngling from the day they discovered the Force. But there was something different about you.

“Master,”

He opened his eyes, turning to look at his former Padawan. “Anakin,” he greeted. He inclined his head, his golden eyes seeming to pierce the soul of the Lord approaching him. “What is it?”

“I sense a disturbance.” Anakin said with a frown. His long hair framed his face and blew in the gentle breeze. “And it’s powerful.”

Cataegis hummed in response, nodding quietly. “She is,” he muttered quietly.

Anakin arched his eyebrow, part of it marred by the scar that adorned the side of his face. “She?”

Cataegis let out a chuckle. “Yes, she.” He was loathe to the fact that he didn’t have a name to put to your infuriatingly beautiful face. “She’s becoming a rather annoying thorn in my side.”

Anakin snorted and crossed his arms. “What do you plan on doing about it.”

The blond Sith pursed his lips as he thought. Truth be told, he didn’t know. There were too many unknown factors for him to run headlong into this without a plan. He knew Anakin was usually the one to do so, but spending so much time with his former apprentice seemed to be rubbing off on him. “I…don’t know.” he admitted.

“Let me hunt her-“

“No!” Cataegis snarled at Anakin and threw him backwards, his hold tight on the other man’s throat with the Force.

Anakin grunted as his back hit the wall and he clawed at his throat momentarily before realizing his Master had full control of his body.

“You will not,” he hissed.

“Seems like you’ve found a new pet,” Anakin choked, trying to struggle against the hold Cataegis had on him.

He growled, the sound reverberating through his chest and his eyes narrowing in a primal rage. “Touch her, and you’ll have one less hand to worry about,” he snarled. “She’s not a bantha for you to hunt for sport. She’s someone more powerful than either you or me. And Force help you if I find out you’ve disobeyed me.” He let Anakin go with another growl, and the former Jedi fell to his hands and knees as he tried to suck in large breaths.

“You’ve gotten rather attached,” Anakin said as he pulled himself to his feet.

Cataegis scowled at his former apprentice. “Have care how you speak, Vader. You never know when you’re going to push me too far.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, but the threat gave him pause. Cataegis only used his Sith title when he was extremely upset with him, which wasn’t often. There must have been something awfully special about this woman for him to be so on edge. “Very well,” he said, inclining his head and acknowledging Cataegis. “But is this going to be a problem?

The former Jedi let out a huff of annoyance. “I don’t know.” he said. “There seems to be a lot about this woman that I don’t know. And I don’t like it.”

“All the more reason we need to find out who she is.”

A low rumble came from Cataegis’ chest, a hum of agreement. “True. But I don’t want you doing anything to scare her off. She’s already on edge enough as it is.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you been concerned about whether someone is scared?” he asked.

Cataegis gave him another warning look. “Since the Padawan I’ve connected with is barely more than sixteen,” he snapped. “Her mind is still malleable, and there’s still a chance I can undo everything that the Jedi have taught her. But if you go scaring her off like that, there’s no telling how she’ll react. We have a difficult enough time as it is. The last thing I need is for you to tear down any work I manage to accomplish with this youngling.”

“Do you really think you’ll be able to turn her?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over. He could sense the turmoil and fear within you. There was confusion, doubt, and surprisingly, anger. At what, he couldn’t be sure. But it surprised him nonetheless. He could sense the disturbance in your mind. If he really tried, he didn’t think it would take much for him to sway you. “I believe so,” he said, rubbing his beard as he continued to think. “I’m going to Coruscant.”

“What?!”

“Are you questioning my decision?”

“Of course I am!” Anakin defended. “You’ve absolutely lost your mind! Yoda will know as soon as you step foot on that planet. There’s know way you’ll be able to get past all of them without getting arrested. Or killed.”

Cataegis sighed and shook his head. “Such little faith, Anakin.”

~*~*~*~

After what happened with Windu, you’d been avoiding your master like the plague. He understood that you would need your space, and he left you to your own devices. For the most part, anyway.

At least he did until Yoda came looking for you.

He found you in one of the many training rooms within the temple. You’d been going at a program of Darth Maul for several hours, at least. The hologram was giving you quite the workout, you had to admit. And you could land blows and slice it to pieces without actually hurting any of your fellow padawans in a sparring session. You knew the emotions raging within you would cause a disturbance, but at that point, you didn’t care.

You didn’t understand what was happening, much less why it was happening to you of all people.

Cataegis’ golden Sith eyes stared at you every time you closed your eyes. You could feel his presence looming over you. It was as if he were right beside you the entire time.

And it unsettled you.

“Hmm…sense your anger, I do.”

You jumped at the sound of the voice that interrupted your training session. You turned on your heel and thrust out your hand. A wave of powerful force energy flew from your palm and rushed towards Yoda. Your eyes widened when you realized who it was. “Master Yoda!” you exclaimed. He saw your reaction coming before you even acted. He quickly jumped out of the way, somersaulting in the air and landing behind you in the training area.

“Mean to scare you, I did not. Sorry, I am, Padawan.” He tilted his head to the side and watched you visibly deflate. The lightsabers in your hand retreated back to their durasteel handles and you quietly hung them on your belt.

“It’s alright, Master.” you replied. “I didn’t mean to attack you.”

He let out the quiet chuckle you knew so well and shook his head. “Conflicted, you are. Resolve your issues, you must.”

You felt like throwing your hands in the air. “How do I do that, Master?” you asked. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

Master Yoda hummed quietly and observed as you took up a meditation position before him. “Explain what is happening, you will.” You arched an eyebrow. You’d figured that Windu had told the Council everything that was happening with you. It would make sense for him to do so. After all, from what he said, it was highly unusual for something like this to happen. Sensing your hesitation, Yoda shook his head. “Tell the Council the details, Master Windu did not. However, like to help you, I would.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You couldn’t help the flinch that took over your shoulders when you saw his eyes staring back at you.

There’s no need to be scared, little one. His deep voice soothed. I’ll soon be with you.

You let out a gasp and opened your eyes. Yoda almost recoiled when he saw the red and gold brimming your normally bright irises.

A chuckle that wasn’t your own echoed through your head and his voice spoke once again, this time a fading whisper. Have no fear, my young apprentice. I won’t hurt you. Yet.

“Hear his voice again, you have?”

You swallowed the fear that lumped in your throat and nodded. “Yes,” you admitted.

He hummed in thought and readjusted his hold on the cane before settling himself in front of you. “Get to the bottom of this, we will. First, discover what this bond is, we must.”

The lights of the training room began to fade away as you closed your eyes and began a light meditation. You’d done something similar with Mace in the past, and you assumed Yoda would want to see exactly what it was that you saw. You were willing to show him, but that didn’t mean you had to like the invasion it would bring into your mind.

But you pushed those feelings aside and opened your mind to him. Everything came rushing forward and you let it.

Everything you were feeling pushed itself towards Yoda. And you didn’t try to stop it. All of your emotions bubbled over the surface and came spewing out like a volcano.

The waves crashed against the edges of your mental shielding, and you didn’t want to hold them back anymore.

What’s happening little one? I can feel your pain from here!

There was a note of concern that you hadn’t heard before. You almost snorted at the thought. You and you let it with a sigh of resignation.

There was no use denying it.

The Dark Side had a hold on you.

And it didn’t appear to be letting go any time soon. didn’t want to hear his voice anymore.

When you opened your eyes again, you were no longer sitting in the training room with Yoda. Instead, you found yourself on a landing platform. The night was cold and dark, and the wind ripped around and billowed your Jedi robes around you. Standing across from you…was him.

Black encompasses him like the shadows of the night, trying to swallow him whole. But the closer you looked, you realized that he was controlling the shadows. The rain pounded on the both of you, soaking you to the bone. Lightning struck the platform to your right, lighting up the area around you. His eyes flashed with the lightning, gold and beautiful.

“You!” you snarled, baring your teeth and glaring at the man.

He held up his hands in what he probably thought to be a placating gesture, but you took it as a threat. You threw your hand forward, and a powerful blast of energy flew from your fingers. Cataegis grunted and crossed his arms to block your blow.

“Get out of my head,” you snarled.

Letting out a scream, you let yourself feel the force around you. The energy flowed through you, became your blood. Everything around you became a part of you. And when you attacked him again, you attacked him with everything.

Yoda watched you with awe. His eyes were wide as a bubble of pure force energy surrounded you. He could see the waves rolling off of you, creating the field. Blue, red, and purple flowed through it like veins in a body. The sphere itself had a golden glow that pulsated with your heartbeat.

His eyes widened and he jumped from his seat as he saw you open yours.

“Get out of my head!”

An intense gold seeped into the color of your irises, intensifying the color. Energy exploded out of your body, throwing Yoda away from you and across the room.

Taglist: @rogueheretic555 @lordofthenerds97 @say-something-nice-missy @doctor-warthrop @auroras-stirring-gaze @venus-armote @say-something-nice-missy @cosmicsierra

#sith obi wan x reader #sith obi wan #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #reader insert #the force is strong with this one #dark side #dark fic #star wars #star wars prequels

165 notes · View notes

parvulous-writings · 3 years

Text

Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request: Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :) Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point. I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate.

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers. Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi. Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it.

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free. Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you.

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them, what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery.

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him. “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-” “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour.

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him. “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this. “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically. “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-” “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight- that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes. You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort.

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips. “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning. “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck. “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.”

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin. “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat. “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.” It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it. “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news. He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest. “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence.

#sith x reader #star wars sith #kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan imagine #sith obi wan #sith obi wan x reader

348 notes · View notes

omiscurls · 3 years

Note

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest.

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two.

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school.

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes.

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people?

and so you didn’t.

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less.

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself.

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love?

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile.

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy.

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well?

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully.

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side.

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization.

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you.

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him.

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up.

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

#genshin impact #genshin boys #diluc angst #diluc x you #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc headcanons #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

112 notes · View notes

runtedfiction · 3 years

Text

nicer

day 1: facade @zelinkweek2021

ao3

* * *

Years later, when Link faces the castle’s crumbling walls, he thinks about the Princess.

* * *

The day King Rhoam announces this year’s Harvest Festival is also the day his subjects know they're doomed. Officially, it’s supposed to be a normal holiday. Unofficially, the language in the announcement—“the last celebration before the fight against Calamity Ganon”, “the last time the palace will be open to Castletown until the fight is over”—convinces everyone that they’re partying in the face of the apocalypse.

“They have no faith in me,” Zelda says, putting down her pen. “Ganon is brewing deep beneath the castle. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows I can’t stop it. This is their last chance to let loose before all hell breaks loose.”

Impa frowns and hands her the final page of raw Guardian data to clean. “You're too hard on yourself. You still have time.”

“I just have Mount Lanayru next week.” She focuses on the Silent Princess above her desk. It's wilting. “Do you think I’ll be wise enough? Maybe Hylia will smite me right then and there for being an idiot.”

“Princess!”

“I know, I know.”

* * *

They wrap up that afternoon’s study, an incredibly useful session in quantifying the powers of the Guardians, to get ready for the ball.

Zelda’s dress is her signature blue, but a bit more fluid and feminine than the one she normally wears. Made for dancing and a summer night.

“Collarbones,” Impa notes, and Zelda laughs. “A little off the shoulder as well! And the subtle constellation pattern in the tulle--how stunning!”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t design it.”

“Guilty.”

Impa’s dress, an even deeper blue, is similarly gorgeous. It’s long sleeved, form fitting, and silky.

“Impa, I just want to say—” Zelda pauses, looking at their reflections in the mirror. When will they ever look this nice again? “Thank you for being my friend.”

Impa' smiles. “Of course. And Princess—if I may.”

“Yes?”

“With all your talk of the world ending, of doom coming.” Her voice gets small. “Do you think it would be worth telling him?”

Zelda stiffens. She thinks of him somewhere in the castle, dressed in his best uniform, walking to find her.

She lies. “No.”

Three quiet, efficient raps sound against her door. Zelda’s heart lurches.

* * *

In the hot, overcrowded ballroom, she can’t stop wondering if he thinks she looks pretty.

There are important people here she needs to talk to: researchers from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab, religious leaders, captains of industry, and so on. She finds her father and tries to reach some common ground on the one night they aren’t preparing for Evil Incarnate. (She fails.) She should find the court poet and give him the dance he’s been writing about for the past month.

But all she wants is for Link to look at her.

He’s indeed in his best uniform. His gloves and boots are blindingly white; his collar sits high and stiff against his neck. He’s uncommonly handsome, and the uniform emphasizes it. When someone pulls him in to dance (technically he should be keeping watch, but that someone really insists), she hates the jealousy that blooms in her chest and takes the hand of the poet. When she twirls, when she makes conversation, when she curtsies--she tries to see it all from Link’s perspective, if he can even find her in the crowd.

“Princess, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh.”

The poet looks at her in the way that a puppy looks at its master. The neediness satisfies and repulses her.

“Yes,” she says, smiling quickly. “Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I was sitting in the courtyard the other day and...”

It’s easy to tune him out and appear to be interested with the right amount of “mhmm” and “oh?” and eye contact. But every time he twirls her around, she tries to spot the top of a Royal Guard cap in the crowd.

She knows she’s being stupid. Even in the incredibly unlikely scenario where Link’s interested, what could they do? Given that her powers aren’t working, there’s only a sixty percent chance they’ll get through the Calamity. She thinks back to what Impa said earlier. Something about letting him know in the face of impending doom.

(Maybe it doesn’t make sense to do something that would possibly be useless, a tiny voice in the back of her head says. But on the flip side, it’s also possible that nothing will matter soon, so why not tell him?)

She scowls and lets the poet dip her far too low for common courtesy.

* * *

Link is definitely lost in the crowd now. The next song requires that they rotate between multiple partners, and she can’t spot him anywhere. There’s no way that he’d be looking at her anyway, because why would he? He’s the chosen one, kind and strong and handsome and blessed. She’s the failed reincarnation, mean and headstrong and cursed.

If (when) the world ends, it’ll be on her.

Zelda admits to herself, swaying in the arms of someone else who doesn’t matter, that because the world has an uncomfortably high probability of ending, it follows that maybe, possibly, probably it makes sense for her to say something.

A sense of urgency unfurls in the pit of her stomach. Where is he?

* * *

She tries to find him. She doesn’t know what she’d do--ask for a dance? Strike up a conversation? Maybe it's the heat getting to her, but it worries her that she's lost him. She walks the length of the ballroom and comes up with nothing.

There’s no way she could summon him, but…

She grabs a glass of water and walks out the ballroom to the nearest balcony.

Except in this very specific circumstance, it’s infuriating how easy it is for him to find her. Even when she doesn't want to be found, even when she’s actively running away (and nearly dying in the process), there he is. The knowledge that he’s almost always aware of her presence burns.

“Hello,” she says after a respectable amount of time.

He steps out behind her. Unfortunately, the moonlight’s softness makes him look angelic. “Hi.”

Zelda very rarely has no plan. She’s the one always bossing him around, deciding where they’ll go next and how they’ll get there and what they’ll do. She’s at a loss for words right now.

“Ah--hm.” A cooling night breeze passes by. “Are you--are you enjoying the festival?”

“Yes?” He looks confused. And hot, her unhelpful brain adds. Very hot. “Are you?”

“Yes. It’s quite warm inside, but I enjoy the music and the dancing.”

“The band is nice.”

She agrees and scrambles to find another conversation topic. Damn it. Still no plan. Think, think.

“Uh--” he starts the same time she asks, “Are you ready for Mount Lanayru next week?”

He nods, and she hates how she made the conversation about work. But he looks more confident now--talking about work is easier than trying to have whatever kind of conversation she had in mind. “Yeah. I read about the region and it seems relatively safe. We might see Naydra too.”

“That would be incredible,” she says. “I’d love to capture it on the Slate.”

He nods again. A silence passes (a horribly awkward one that eats at her) before she asks: “What were you going to say before I interrupted you?”

“Oh yes.” Link clears his throat, and the fact that he looks a bit nervous sends her heart pounding. Can he tell what her subconscious is trying to do? “I’ve been meaning to ask (oh God, oh God, what has he been meaning to ask)--are you avoiding me?”

She blinks. “What?”

He won’t make eye contact with her. Triforce of courage, my ass. “Are you avoiding me?”

“No?” She’s stunned. Avoiding? All she’s been doing for the past week is pining!

“But, I feel like.” He pauses to look at her briefly. Again, his nerves kick off her own. “Ever since we got back from the desert, you haven’t really talked to me.”

She needs to think. A week ago, what happened?

They were at the Kara Kara Bazaar, and she nearly died because she intentionally (stupidly) lost him. She relives the feeling of it now--the panic that came with facing certain death when she realized it wasn’t Link following her, but the Yiga, then the shock when he appeared out of thin air wielding the sword. His back, so strong and sure. His concern as he helped her get up afterwards.

How once she could process what happened, something kicked in her chest, and everything was so obvious so suddenly.

Then getting back from the desert, what did she do? She wrote a diary entry, spent a sleepless night deciding she had feelings for him that she didn’t want to name, and tried as hard as possible to conceal them. The pining was unbearable, and--oh. Looking at him made her face burn, so she turned away. She never knew what to say around him, so she chose to say nothing at all.

Perhaps she approached her yearning by offsetting it with its opposite.

They really haven’t spoken. Zelda shakes her head, and mentally kicks herself. How can someone like you back if you don’t even talk to them? “I promise, I’m not trying to avoid you.”

He furrows his brow a little. Cute. Unfair. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Ok. If you do--if you ever need more space, let me know.” He smiles a little. “I do have to follow you, but I can do it farther away or something.”

She smiles back. Please always follow me. “Thanks. No need.”

“Alright,” he says. He glances at her arms.“Do you want to go back inside? It’s a bit cold. You’re getting goosebumps.”

She didn’t even notice. An idea is forming in her mind, bright and hot and something that needs to rush out right now or she’s going to overthink it to death.

“Going back inside sounds good. When we do, would you--would you like to dance with me?”

The question leaves so quickly that she’s not too sure if he understood it. She holds her breath; she might throw up.

“Sure,” he says, and the disappointment that she expected to punch her gut doesn’t come; a flood of something wonderful washes over her instead. Sure is yes, her mind sings. “How about I find you before the last song? I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping watch.”

“Sure,” she echoes. Hopefully her excitement isn’t too obvious when she turns back and nearly runs into the ballroom.

* * *

When the band announces the last song of the night, Zelda lets go of the poet and steps back immediately.

“My Princess,” he says, and the normal repulsion she would feel turns into joy when she spots a navy blue cap making its way through the crowd. “I would be honored to have your final dance, if you would have me.”

“Another time,” she says, already turning to pick up her skirt and mosey her way through the last group of people separating her from a flash of sandy blonde hair. “Thank you though!”

She doesn’t wait for the poet’s response because the crowd is gone and Link is right in front of her, handsome and smiling slightly. Her heart is at a million miles a minute when she drops her skirt and steps forward to place her hand in his.

This isn’t like her. He must think she’s acting so strange. Either that, or it’s obvious just from looking at her what she’s thinking. It’s a frenzied array of thoughts, ranging from the obvious (handsome, handsome, smells so good?, handsome, kind eyes) and the embarrassing (The smallest, least repressed part of me has dreamed about this all week.)

The music starts and swells and she’s still dreaming. His hand on her back is firm. Thanks to the design of the dress, she can feel his glove pressing into her. She wonders if he can feel the heat of her skin.

“How are you doing?” he asks when they fall into a rhythm, and she smiles too fast, idiot, calm down.

“Great, how are you?”

“Good,” he says, and they spin. He smiles back. “Good to know you’re not avoiding me.”

“Of course not.” Stupid, you avoided him!

He dips her a perfectly appropriate amount.

She feels brave. It’s the adrenaline getting to her, because the rational part of her can’t stop (giddily) telling her that she’s dumb when she asks, “Why would you think that I'd avoid you?”

“Hm.” He looks away to consider the question. The tips of his eyelashes catch the chandelier light. “I thought that maybe last week was a bit too much.”

She thinks about how warm his hand was when he helped her get up after saving her life. “It wasn’t.”

“It’s ok if it was.”

“No, no, you’re too kind.”

Link clears his throat. “So you’re not avoiding me because I kept trying to follow you through the bazaar when you clearly didn’t want me to?”

She laughs. “No, it’s also incredibly stupid that I tried to lose you. Besides, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

Link clears his throat.

She chooses to change the subject by asking an easy “What did you make for dinner tonight?” in an attempt to soak up the final minutes she has in his arms. He starts talking about mushroom risotto, and she can’t stop smiling.

* * *

At the end of the night, when he escorts her to her room, it’s late enough that silence is acceptable.

She’s decided that she needs to do something, but she doesn’t know what. A hug would be different, but too strange. I like you is simple, but too plain. Thinking about you makes my heart soft is embarrassing. I know I’ve been an incorrigible bitch but now my walls are down and I like you is too honest.

She turns around when they reach her doors.

“Tonight was fun,” she says.

He smiles. Zelda knows romance books don’t lie when her heart jumps at the sight of it. “It was.”

This is the moment. She takes a deep breath as quietly as she can. She has that nauseous feeling again. If nothing matters, tell him. Everyone knows the apocalypse is coming.

“Hey, listen,” he says right when she opens her mouth. He pauses to look at her. If she thought he looked nervous earlier when he asked her if she was avoiding him, it’s nothing compared to now. He does a visible gulp, and—

“I think I have feelings for you.”

She blinks. What?

“And I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he continues, tense and fast, looking right at her, “especially in light of everything going on right now. But I just had to put that out there.”

What?!

She closes her eyes--what is happening right now--and when she opens them he’s still there. This isn’t a dream.

Holy fuck. “Really?”

He nods. “Really.”

“Huh,” she says. He beat her to it. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

She laughs. He beat her to it, and now all she has to do is the easiest thing in the world.

“I think I have feelings for you too,” she says. It’s so dark now she can’t see the blue of his eyes, but she can imagine it easily.

He’s surprised. “Really?”

“Really. In fact, I was meaning to tell you just now.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “Really.”

She smiles and takes his hand. He stiffens at first, then relaxes as she threads her fingers through his.

“Oh, actually, here, let me—” He lets go. Disappointment hits her briefly before she sees that he’s taking off his glove. Some of his scars are alabaster in the moonlight. He has so many.

(She wants to kiss all of them.)

His hand is warm and rough and lovely when he slips it back into hers.

“This feels nicer,” he says, and his voice is almost shy.

There are a million things she wants to say--what are we going to do if I end the world, what are we going to do if you save the world, how long have you known for, Hylia is going to smite both of us for being fools--but she settles on squeezing his hand instead. He squeezes back.

“Yes,” she agrees. Very gently, she cups his cheek with her other hand and leans in. He’s closed his eyes already. “Much nicer.”

#zelink week 2021 #zelink #zelink fanfiction

68 notes · View notes

miraculousares · 3 years

Text

Because I doubt the writers are going to feed us the interaction immediately after The Thing™, here I am. GANG OF SECRETS SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED S4 YET, DO NOT READ ON

Marinette clutched the sides of her head as if she might explode if she didn't hold everything together. "You're right, I have secrets and I lie all the time! I lie to my parents, to my friends. To everyone..." She felt her best friend sit beside her on the chair but she was so caught up in her feelings that she couldn't process it. "And the worst part about it is that I can't do anything about it!" She buried her face in her hands, fighting back another bought of sobs.

"We always have the choice, Marinette." Alya spoke softly and carefully putting her arms around the girl. In the back of her head, Marinette was sure that she could feel her shaking but at this point, she didn't care. She was overwhelmed. She was heartbroken. She was stressed. She was terrified.

"No." She looked up and met her friend's eyes and saw a look of sympathy. "At least not for me. I've got no other choice. It's all beyond us, Alya, and it's too heavy to carry." She wiped a tear from her face.

"If it's too heavy, then we'll be two to carry it," the girl whispered comfortingly. With this, Marinette let out a long breath. She knew what the right decision was to the discourse she'd been having in her own head all day. That didn't stop her fear from taking control, though.

"If I tell you, things between us will never be the same. It's going to destroy everything, change it all."

"Marinette, whatever you'll say, I'm your friend." Marinette could hear how desperately her friend wanted to know. But it wasn't out of curiosity or pushiness. It was to take the burden of her secret from her. To help her carry it.

"And me..." She searched her friend's eyes, gaining the confidence and reassurance she needed from the loving stare of her best friend. "I'm Ladybug." Time seemed to move in slow motion. For a moment, she wondered if Bunnix had done it, showing up to keep her from telling Alya. But instead, time resumed as the redhead's expression quickly changed from shock and confusion to one of understanding before pulling her into a tight hug. She paused for a moment before wrapping her own arms around her friend and let herself sob silently into her shoulder.

If she was being honest, Marinette had thought of a thousand different scenarios as to how Alya might react. The majority of them were filled with neverending questions from the Ladybug-Superfan. A select few ended with Alya storming out and never speaking to her. One even included her selling her out to Shadowmoth, though she shut that one down quickly. However, she hadn't let herself imagine Alya comforting her immediately. Marinette was grateful to her friend for that. She didn't ask her to prove it, ask her a million questions, or even speak. She just hugged her because she trusted her. Alya had complete faith in her.

After a few minutes of letting out the weeks' worth of sorrow and pressure out into her friend's flannel-clad shoulder, she eventually pulled away and searched Alya's eyes. She seemed to be processing the information, but sympathy and understanding still took over her face. Seeing that expression, all worries and stress washed away in a wave of overwhelming relief. It felt amazing to have finally told someone and she knew she had made the right choice. She let out another breath and a smile forced itself onto her face. It felt foreign on her face now, rarely having worn one since becoming the gaurdian, but it felt at home. She wiped her cheeks and laughed. Nothing was amusing, she was just so happy that it escaped her lips automatically.

"Okay, I'm okay. You can react now," she announced. Though Alya was doing an amazing job at just being understanding, she could tell that her best friend was bursting with questions. Alya seemed to scan over her one last time to check for any remaining need of comfort before letting her face turn to an expression of shock.

She sat silent for a moment as if trying to organize her thoughts before breathing out, "You've beta-read so much of my LadyNoir fanfiction..." Marinette couldn't help the loud laugh. She clapped her hand over her mouth but Alya just joined in the laughter. They sat there letting out all of their relief and joy and connection through that shared laugh until their stomachs hurt. Eventually, they were able to get their breath back and Alya seemed to be more collected in her processing.

"Okay, actually though, that's insane. Ladybug has been my best friend this whole time and I had no clue. And all the pressure you've been under this whole time. I mean hell, Marinette! Paris' safety- No. The world's safety has been sitting on your and Chat Noir's shoulders for two years and you're only 16! I can't even imagine it! I mean, I guess I can to an extent because, ya know, Rena Rogue. But that's more of a part-time gig and it's not like everyone's relying super heavily on me. And now I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad you trusted me with this and I'm so sorry I haven't been able to support you the way you've been needing. But I'm here now." She inhaled, clearly having forgotten to breathe during her ramble, and pulled Marinette into one more hug. "Can I ask questions?" She asked after they pulled apart again.

Marinette smiled. "Of course, Als."

"Okay. God, where do I even start? Do you know who Chat Noir is?"

"No. It's too dangerous for us to know each other's identities. Shadowmoth needs both of our miraculous and if we knew each other's identities, that would make it that much easier for him to get them," Marinette explained. It felt amazing to finally be talking about this with someone. Of course, she always had Tikki and now the other kwamis, but she needed the support of another person. She needed the support of her best friend.

"So he doesn't know who you are either?" Marinette shook her head and Alya nodded. "How did you even get your miraculous? I mean it's not like there was a Ladybug to hand it to you like I got mine."

"The last guardian, Master Fu, gave them to us. I don't know what happened with Chat Noir but I imagine that it was similar to why he gave me mine. I saved him from getting hit by a car in a crosswalk and showed him kindness. He told me later that he could see the 'heroic qualities' in me." She used her fingers to make air quotes around the words.

"That's incredible!" She paused for a moment, eyebrows raised in thought. "Oh my god, so many things make so much sense now."

"RIGHT?!" Marinette exclaimed.

"That's why you're always late! And why you're always so tired! And why you just dash out of class in the middle of the day!"

"EXACTLY!" Marinette practically shouted, relieved to finally be understood.

"Oh,

man... Everything's clicking in place, wow." Marinette could almost see the equations floating in front of Alya's face.

"Wait, sorry if this is out of line but... Is LadyNoir canon?"

"WHAT! No! Not in a million years!"

"Then what is this?" Alya whipped out her phone and showed Marinette her home screen. It was the picture that had been haunting the girl since it was taken. She wished it would disappear but it was constantly resurfacing on the internet and on tabloid covers. The photo of her and Chat Noir kissing on the rooftop after battling Oblivio.

"I have no idea what that was," she admitted. "I have no memory of even defeating Oblivio, let alone kissing that mangy cat."

"I mean, I know you're going through a lot right now and have sworn off romance for the time being but... Could it ever happen?"

Marinette opened her mouth to respond but all that came out was a sigh. "No," was all she said.

"Why not?"

"I..." Tears formed in her eyes and Alya immediately pulled her into a hug.

"Oh my god, Marinette. I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"No, no. I just... I haven't really let myself think about it since it happened. But, I guess I can finally talk about it, huh?"

"You can tell me anything, you know that."

And so, Marinette told Alya about what happened with Chat Blanc. She explained how their love destroyed the world. She explained how her own irresponsibility with her miraculous had destroyed the world. The whole event had honestly been very traumatic to Marinette and weighed heavily on her heart. Since that, she'd been even more closed off about her secret, especially to her partner. She hadn't let herself think about it if she could help it, but it still haunted her in her nightmares.

As she finished the story, Alya tightened her arms around her. "Marinette, I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that. You've been put through so much and you've been holding on to so much pressure and it's not fair. Mari, when I tell you this, I want you to believe me. You are the strongest person I know. You've gone through more than anyone should have to go through in a lifetime. Yet, you still manage to find a way to always be there for your friends and your family. You're out all night fighting for your life and for the world and then you come to school and you're there for everyone else. You are so, so strong. You're amazing and not just because you're Ladybug, but because you're Marinette." Marinette couldn't hold back the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she hugged her best friend. Any regrets or doubts she worried she might have about telling Alya were gone. She knew she had made the right choice.

The girls spent the rest of the night talking about this, a mix of laughing and crying until they eventually fell asleep there on Marinette's couch, tired from the whirlwind of emotions. "Thank you, Alya, for being here for me," Marinette whispered as Alya's breathing steadied. Then, she closed her eyes and fell asleep herself. For the first time in weeks, her dreams were light and hopeful.

#gang of secrets #je suis ladybug #I am ladybug #ml season 4 #ml spoilers #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #mlb #mlb season 4 #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #alyanette

85 notes · View notes

sailorgreywolf-german · 3 years

Text

Sacrality and Legitimacy

Summary: The evening before Charles V is crowned Holy Roman Emperor Austria shares a private moment with his husband. For the second day of @aphrarepairweek2021 for the prompt “royalty.”

Characters: Spain and Austria

Ship: SpaAus

Word Count: 1.4K

Austria regarded the glittering crown of the Holy Roman Empire in the low candle light. It was a beautiful glittering thing, set with images of saints. It had been a gift from Byzantium long ago, and it had been handed down from emperor to emperor.

In the morning the pope would place the crown on the head of Charles V, and legitimize his title in a way that had been done since the middle ages. It would also grant the shared crown of Austria and Spain unquestioned legitimacy.

The regalia was laid out carefully the night before, and Austria was making sure that everything was in order. The necessary pieces of the imperial coronation were very familiar to him since Maximilian was elected.

He ran his hand over the embroidered lining of the thick mantle, and then lightly touched each the scepter and crown in turn. The objects were familiar, and he knew that they were in the safekeeping of his royal family, but the reverence that he felt for them had never lessened. They were ancient pieces, endowed with sacred power. Beyond his own political power, which was rooted in Charlemagne’s empire, the holy relics of the empire made his heart beat faster.

He heard the sound of footsteps, but it didn’t alarm him. He had sent a message to Spain to offer him the chance of seeing the sacred regalia before the day. He turned to see the Spaniard standing behind him, as he had expected. If he had learned anything about Spain in the years that they had been married, it was that he had the greatest respect for the sacred and would enjoy the opportunity to be this close.

Spain looked like he had been prepared to go to sleep when he received the message. He had clearly thrown a cloak on over his chemise and not bothered to put on a doublet underneath. There was something incredibly sexy about seeing him in little more than his under-layers, with his hair tousled.

Austria had to focus on not staring at the neckline of his shirt, and the tempting glimpse of tanned skin beneath it. The time in the New World had given Spain’s skin a beautiful amber glow.

Though he found nothing particularly wrong with feeling lust for his husband, he knew that the point was to show him something that would be meaningful to him. He was certain that being able to see and touch the regalia was something that Spain desperately wanted.

Austria spoke, “I see that you got my message.” Spain strode across the space with the air of a man who commanded the world. Once he was at Austria’s side he answered, “Of course I came as quickly as I could.”

He turned his gaze to the regalia, and his breath caught in his throat. He said, in a hushed voice, “The holy relics.”

For a moment, all of the bravado of a conquering empire vanished, and Austria was looking at a pious man overcome with emotions. He saw someone who had spent years of his life completely devoted to the church.

Silently, Austria watched as Spain’s eyes moved from the crown to the holy lance and the sword of Charlemagne, which had been transported from Aachen for the occasion. In the low light he could see the shimmer of water in Spain’s eyes.

He said, softly, “You can touch them if you want.”

Spain looked at him, and looked momentarily like a little boy who was terrified of doing something wrong in church. Austria was reminded for a moment that he really was still quite young, and had been a unified kingdom for less than a century. For all his confidence, he was still an emergent kingdom not entirely used to this position.

Spain said, “Can I really?” It was so odd to hear him ask for permission, since he rarely asked for it for anything else. But, on this subject he seemed hesitant, and in need of the reassurance. Austria put a hand on his shoulder and said, “You can, I promise.”

Only once Spain had nodded and reached out to touch the imperial cloak did he say, “You usually aren’t one to need permission for anything.”

Spain shook his head. His eyes were still full of wonder as he moved his hand from one item to the other. He was only touching them lightly with his fingertips, like he was worried that too much contact would be damaging.

He answered Austria, “For most things, I would not. But this-“ He put his hand on one of the most holy relics and drew in a breath through his nose, “This is the holy lance. The blade that pierced the side of our savior.”

He sounded like he was choked up, and Austria could see every bit of his piety. No one would ever accuse Spain of being fickle in his love of the church. Spain closed his eyes for a moment as he pressed his palm against the relic.

Austria allowed him the moment with silence. He had always known that he had married a man who prided himself on his faith, and he was not going to interrupt. But he did rub comforting circles on Spain’s shoulder, to remind him that he was not alone.

Spain moved his hand again and opened his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as he seemed to emerge from his revelry. Then, he blinked away the beginnings of tears.

Austria decided it was finally time to break the silence, and he asked, “What is wrong, my dear? Aren’t you happy?”

He had never seen Spain quite so emotional before, and it felt like he was seeing the man truly vulnerable moment. His voice was somewhat steady as he answered, “I never thought I would be able to have anything from my father. Everyone knows that bastards never inherit.”

Austria hoped that his touch was at least comforting, since he knew that the subject of legitimacy was a sensitive one. Spain put his hand very gently on the crown, and Austria could see the swell of emotions in his eyes.

He said, trying to remind Spain of how far he had come, “Tomorrow your king will be crowned Emperor of the Romans by the Pope. That is more legitimacy than blood could ever give you.” Spain turned to meet Austria’s eyes, and said, “Our king. I know that I have been granted this because of you.”

Austria felt his heart beat faster. He could see the gratitude in the other’s face and he was certain that he had never felt quite so in love. Their marriage had not been made for love, but as he looked at Spain he saw a young man overwhelmed with the feeling that he was finally coming into his own, and he could not love him more.

In the candle light, Spain looked soft and handsome, and very vulnerable. He replied, “It’s everything that you deserve, Antonio.”

Spain put his hand softly on Austria’s face, and seemed to struggle with his words for a moment. He finally managed to say, “You cannot imagine how much this means to me. This past decade God’s love has granted me so much. I have the empire that I always dreamed of.”

He drew in another breath to calm himself. Austria took the opportunity to say, “I do understand, Schatz. That’s why I invited you here.”

Spain nodded and the look in his green eyes was enough to melt Austria. He had not realized how desperately and deeply he loved the man he married. Spain replied, “Your love has given me just as much, and I am grateful to have you." He stroked Austria’s cheek with his thumb, and said quietly, “My Rodrigo. You are a blessing.”

He gently pulled Austria into a kiss. Austria leaned gratefully into it. He loved the touches, and he could feel the intensity behind the way their lips joined. The way that Spain was holding his face felt especially tender. His Spanish bull could be gentle when he tried.

The kiss felt like it lasted a pleasant eternity, until Spain finally broke it to take a breath. Austria didn’t want it to stop. This felt like one of the most intimate moments they had ever had, and he didn’t want it to end.

Spain slipped his arms around his husband’s waist and pulled him close. He whispered into his husband’s ear, “Come to bed with me, and I’ll make you feel like a king.” Austria nodded and kissed him one more time.

#aphrarepairweek2021 #hws austria #hws spain #SpaAus #spaus

56 notes · View notes

gothamsworst · 3 years

Text

Ficlet Clip- Understanding (Co Authored bt JohnTS)

“You’d think more people would assume the existence of such things, you know. With things like the Justice League cavorting about the world, magic as simple as science.. So many people are so quick to assume such things are .. impossible, despite all evidence to the contrary.”

Her gaze locked with his eyes, the piercing red almost shimmering among the smoke and shadows. There was hunger, but not a carnal one. No, it was a craving for understanding. For someone who comprehended the necessity violence could be in times of peril. Her kind, immortals- they rarely found understanding in the living.

“Gotham was the only sensible place for me to hide. What better place for a monster to flee, than to the dark?”

The Penguin felt he had to stand up to make his point. It was a rare opportunity, so why not make the most of it? As he stood up, he slowly paced towards the massive window behind him.

“Well, just a few months ago, there was no Justice League, because there was no threat of invaders from the stars. You see, everything old shifts to adapt to the new, or fades into extinction. We began using gimmicks like the Batman did to fight him on equal terms. Then came the metahumans, then the rest. Natural escalation. No matter what anyone says, finding someone like you was only a matter of time.”

He’s now reached the glass, touching it with the entirety of his right palm. I Something she said is giving Oswald pause to turn around, to face her. He’s still looking out the window, but not focusing on anything.

“Monsters don’t hide in the dark alone, my dear. I have committed crimes -some of which are heinous- and I hide in the light, down there. Among my peers I want to be better than someday. Not wasting a fortune, but investing it, to help this city so they remember me. Someday…”

The Penguin was now ready to turn around and face Roxanne, still standing by the glass pane. There’s sorrow and regret in his voice, as if he wishes he knew what he’s about to say sooner.

“I don’t think anyone who is a monster ponders what a horrible monster they are, Roxxy. Whatever you are, so long as you are aware of it, you can pull back from the brink of chaos. When the time comes, you can face your family, and survive. No one I know of that questions their nature is a slave to it.”

“I have no shame in what I am, love..” She smiled a bit, rising to meet him. “Only in how I became such a thing. I may not be a human, but I still live, in my own way. I breathe, I think, I hunger, I strain. I am in every sense, still a part of this world, even if the things that made me human are far behind me.”

When she reached the glass, her clawed fingers tapped on its surface with a light tink. “But there is shame in the things I must do to stay alive. There is shame in how I became what I am, and what I do to maintain it. Immortality comes at a terrible cost. ”

She looked to him with a mixture of somber sadness, and a light of mischief. “You learn to make your own joy. Your own hope. ”

The way the light caught her face was.. phantasmal. The haunting pale features, the dark curls that fell around her features, and those eyes.. shimmering blood opal portals that flickered with blue and gold. She locked her gaze with his, and the sadness melted into a contented smile.

“It’s nice to finally talk to someone who understands that there can be good in the hard parts.” Oswald kept his hand on the glass, as if there was some kind of connection, a bond he would hate to sever. It was comforting to finally know someone who understood. It has been so long, some would say an eternity, since the last time that happened. The Penguin is mesmerized in her presence, her appearance so haunting that he almost feels timid to speak further. Thing is, he’s fought enough ghosts his entire life, so he finds the strength to respond.

“My dearest Roxxy, you are without a doubt the only one who understands better than I how true that is. I wish-”

A voice is heard as someone rushes through the doorway. An uninvited visitor at the worst possible time. A middle-aged man with broad shoulders and a gruff stubble enters the room in a panic. Looks like he’s been through hell. At least he closes the door behind him, even leans against it for support.

“Boss, you gotta do somethin’! The Bat, he took down our shipment, the cops are all over it now. We had to run! Good news is, we used the smaller gangs like you taught us. No one can trace it back to us, but-”

“Not now, Laurence. Get out of my office, now.”

“But, boss, those guns were worth at least ten mil-”

“Out, NOW!”

He can no longer keep touching the cold window, alongside her. Almost out of instinct, the Penguin grabs his closest umbrella without even looking and flicks the handle once, allowing the 5 inch serrated blade to pop out. One more flick and the blade flies through the air at the speed of a professional’s arrow, embedding itself no more than one inch away from Laurence’s face, into the finely sculpted wooden door. Another blade pops into place to be ejected, but Laurence knows when to run. He almost vanishes when he leaves the room faster than he entered it. “Before you say anything, yes, that was an arms deal. I have no shame in what I am either, only in what I have to do to be worth a damn, to be remembered a few generations from now as more than the short man with a trick umbrella.“

He can finally put the umbrella down, he thinks, as his fingers have stopped gripping it like it’s his own soul. Oswald is back to the window pane, touching the glass again. Maybe it’s the lighting, but his eyes seem almost glassy.

"I know what you are, and I can see every side of what you are. If you feel the same way, maybe we can… Maybe we can make the load lighter somehow, for both of us. Can we..?” She reached over, taking his hand in hers. The skin was warm, save for the palm that had been pressed to the icy glass. Her grasp was gentle, and firm. There was tenderness to it. A vulnerability.

“If you would have me.. I’d be delighted, Oswald. I really would.”

‘If you would have me’. The phrase had many meanings- but there was one as ld as time, that even one like Oswald would know. It was a phrase often used to offer companionship of a more mature variety.

A courtship.

Roxxy knew the risks of opening her heart to a human, even one like the Penguin. But those eyes, deep and shimmering and real.. She saw into them and knew this was something she couldn’t turn away from. He was kindred. And if anyone could handle her heart, it might well be him.

The “one moment at a time” mantra he was tied to for so long just fell apart. Now what? What does the next moment hold? No earthly idea, as far as the Penguin could think.

“I… I would love to have you…, here, if you want a position in the Lounge. You are talented, I’m sure of that. And, provided you want to, you can extend that partnership to the other, more well paying side of the business…and also extend it to…”

Almost stammering through his words, his mind tries to reach what his heart already knows. Oswald never was that connected to someone, another soul trying to shoulder through hell, not knowing what will become of them out the other side. At least, that’s how he understood it. Might as well take a leap of faith, it’s not like a better time might come later. This is Gotham, Poison Ivy might take over Aparo park in the next 5 minutes and drive the city into panic mode.

“…to us.”

Leaps of faith never worked for the Penguin, only cunning and ruthlessness. For Oswald though, they worked out just fine, so far.

She relaxed into a gentle posture, holding his hand just a little bit tighter. There was no going back now. And so, leaning down just enough to meet his eyes, the draculina placed a small, tender kiss on his cheek. The mark it left was a deep rosy red, and she saw no shame in making it. No, she liked him. More than she had liked anyone in a long time.

“I can start this weekend. My show at the Nest is tomorrow, if you care to see what my performances are like before such partnerships begin. Or, if you’d just like to share a cocktail or two.”

Oh, now the flirting was much more obvious. Her hand cupped his chin, hesitating nervously for a moment. Should she? There was no doubt Roxanne wanted to kiss him. She’d been resisting the urge all night. But she had no idea what would come of such a decision. Not that she was opposed to being intimate with the man.

Far from it. In fact, the idea excited her.

But not yet. No, instead, another kiss in the cheek- this one a little higher up. Modesty was not her specialty- she was sin incarnate under all the pleasantry and glamour. Her body was built for violence and lechery. But her heart was still human, and told her to wait.

That could come soon enough.

“I hope I’m not being too forward.” Oswald’s heart stopped beating in his ears for a few seconds after the second kiss. At least, he knew he was on the right path. He shifted his body slightly, pefectly centered to face Roxanne fully. His monocle was no longer useful up close, so he set it aside on the table, along with the still bladed umbrella.

“It would make me happy beyond words to see you perform, my dear. I would love nothing more. Truly. And, as for your other question…”

He barely felt how cold her hand was. Oswald was far too focused on her image before him, and how she made him feel. Awe, a bit of fear, a lot of affection, a touch of amazement at the creature before him. So many more words he couldn’t find in the moment. He can’t resist placing his other hand on the side of her face, gently pressing against it to feel the marble-like skin that’s endured centuries.

“…You are incredible, Roxanne, and for that you can be as forward as you want.”

Oswald leaned ever so closer, only to stop when his face is a couple of inches away from hers. That old school upbringing kicks in again. Now he’s not sure if he’s too forward.

“I…”

A whirlpool of emotions stir inside. Words don’t seem to work for him at the moment.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. There was no way. Not when they were this close, not with the way he looked at her. Roxanne gave in to the hunger, pressing her lips to his in feverish delight, her body trembling as the sensation of Oswald’s kiss washed over her.

He tasted like wine and cigarette smoke, and his cologne.. god, it was so overwhelming. Her arms slinked around his shoulders and the draculina purred, parting from it only to sink back in after quietly catching her breath. What was this? Had she ever been so eager before? Roxxy couldn’t remember.

Parting from the kiss one last time, Roxxy looked on Oswald with a great fondness. His hat was askew and hair a bit ruffled from the moment, but he looked so.. charming.

Oh yes. She had caught the bug hard.

“Pardon my enthusiasm,” she said barely above a whisper.

“My dear, I quite like your enthusiasm.”

Oswald took off his hat slowly to place it on the table. Still locking eyes with Roxanne, he adjusted his hair, without too much success. He leaned forward, as if he was about to whisper a secret, but instead planted one, two, three kisses onto her lips, his heart beating so fast he almost couldn’t even hear it.

The first two were subtle and soft, the third lasting longer, more intense than the previous. His right hand moved behind her face, to caressing her hair gently. After he pulled back, that right hand was back to the Penguin’s side, putting his hat and monocle back on. He was now looking into the amber pearls of her eyes, again.

“Pardon my persistence”, he said slightly out of breath.

She was red in the face, but her gaze was utterly blissful- half lidded eyes paired with a meek expression. “I like your persistence,” she replied, purring into his ear affectionately.

Roxanne hadn’t felt this level of comfort in a long time. Nor had she had affections this intense. Oswald was bold, charismatic, and not without a temper- something she couldn’t help but be drawn to. The vampire found herself craving him, the way one craved sleep, or air.

“Oswald, I.. It has been a long time, since I’ve done something like this. I need to know that if we’re to take this seriously, that.. That you’re sure. That there is no hesitations.”

“My dear, everything I’ve done has been without doubts. Everything I do is for a reason and…I’ve never felt this way before, for anyone. I’m sure of this, Roxxy. Like every other action I’ve taken in my comparatively short life.”

Oswald reached out with both hands, cupping them over one of Roxanne’s. Slim fingers, cold to the touch. Strong as steel under the soft surface.

“Roxxy, I promise you. No hesitations.”

The Penguin looked around aimlessly for a couple of seconds, as if he’s entered his office for the first time. He then turned back to face Roxanne with a smile., almost stifling a chuckle.

“Do you want to know something funny? I always explain to every guest in this room the origin of all the items in my collection before they even sit down. I forgot all about that in the… moment. We’ll have time for that kind of tour later, I’m sure. If you want to, that is.”

“I’d like that.”

Bro...bro...!!!

#dc #gotham rogues #btas #oswald cobblepot #penguin #fanfic #ficlet #fem oc #dc ocs #sfw #suggestive #long post #bro this is so good #i love hte idea of oz just being able to launch knives out of his fucking umbrella #it's like a gun that shoots knives!! but it's an umbrella!!! three in one!!!!

22 notes · View notes

anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Home: Chapter eight

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 1.6k

a/n: ahhh this is the last part and I’m kinda sad but at the same time I don’t want to drag it out, I also have a new idea for a dorian x reader so it’s a good thing to finsih one but am still sad. I hope you enjoy I made it extra fluffy (also had a cheeky wee hint back to the first part)

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

You were sat in front of a large mirror, taking in your appearance as you listened to the noise downstairs, the hustle and sounds of people speaking as they rushed about in preparation a sharp contrast to the silence of your and Azriel’s shared room. The girl looking back at you in the mirror was beautiful. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a long neck adorned with a simple necklace your lover had gifted you. Your skin was clear as well, any blemishes you had, any scarring from acne you had picked at, was gone, replaced by dewy, glowing skin. In fact everything about you seemed to glow, your hair was shinier, your skin had a new ethereal sense about it, and you looked more like your mother than you ever had before.

You heard a clatter of plates downstairs and bit your lip with a slight smile, running your hands over you dress. It was baby pink, as you had commented that white may be a little on the nose, with a deep V-neck and white and pink flowers trailing down the heavy skirt, you had picked it out with the help of Feyre and Mor who had dragged you out shopping, giggling when you had stared in shock at the sheer number of dresses you only believed existed on Pinterest. You reached over the vanity and picked up the delicate gold dangling earrings that you had ‘bought’ (Azriel had technically bought them but you certainly paid him back) and put them on, gazing wistfully at your now pointed ears.

So much had changed so quickly. Azriel’s family were extremely welcoming, instantly treating you like they had known you forever. You became incredibly close with Cassian and Nesta, much to Azriel’s amusement, as you bonded over books with Nesta and a general love of Azriel with Cassian. Nesta was officially sold on you when she finished ‘Call Me by Your Name’ the day you gave it to her, the two of you discussing it all night as you made promises to find a way to show her the movie. Rhysand and Mor treated you like a sister, the three of you soon teasing each other, Amren genuinely laughing when you let loose your more creative insults. The only one who seemed reserved at first was Elain, but soon the two of you were spending hours in the garden as you taught her about the different needs that different plants had and how to grow them most effectively.

Azriel had never been more in love. He already knew you were mates but now that it was official, and possible, he felt like he was on cloud nine. He was in love with how quickly you feel asleep in his arms. The way you lit up when talking about your passions, hands moving widely. He was in love with the way your eyes sparkled constantly now, only rarely being overcome with shadows, ones that he had learned to help dispel, you were laughing more and had even started showing your back again. When you went to the House of Wind to train with Cassian and Azriel one summer afternoon you had removed your top, leaving you in a simple sports bra, not missing the mix of pride and desire in Azriel’s eyes as you continued your exercises.

“Can I ask what happened?” Nesta had asked late that day, Feyre looking up from her book, Nyx cradled in one arm. You had explained, and after, when you expected to be pushed away, Feyre had simply passed Nyx to Nesta and wrapped her arms around you, holding you for a long while, even when the Illyrians entered the room. When she pulled away you noticed the tears in her eyes and offered her a small smile, as she whispered to you.

“You’re with your family now, nothing like that will ever happen again.” And then you were crying too.

Now you were sat in your low-back dress with your hair up, scars on display for anyone to see. You had been woken at nine am by an excited chorus of fae women and all but shoved into a bath, your hair washed, and skin scrubbed until you felt new-born. You had been brought a strong, dark coffee and some honeyed toast as you sat soaking in the bath, your friends moving about outside tidying your room and fishing out everything you needed, before you were pulled from the bath and forced to dry. When you had walked back into the room, you found Mor wiggling her eyebrows as she passed you a bag which, on further inspection, you found contained an intricate set of baby blue lingerie making you laugh loudly as you thumbed the material. They had then crowded you, Nesta drying and styling your hair as Feyre did your face, treating it alike one of her beautiful paintings, Elain painting and filing your nails as Amren and Mor sat sipping on champagne, both donned in beautiful, dark silk dresses, as they discussed the day ahead. You felt alike a princess when they were done and had commented as much, gaining you a glass of champagne and a comment on how you looked like one too. However they soon left, claiming there was much to sort out downstairs and that they had no faith in the boys to get it sorted.

Now you were sat alone, your gaze had moved to outside your window where light snow had started falling. You stood and moved the open window, perching on the ledge, smiling when a robin landed next to you, flying to rest in your palm, it’s ruby coloured breast not making you flinch. You still had nightmares as you were still part god and probably always would have the dreams you had grown used to; however you were making progress.

“If you’re planning on running away that ledge is too high,” You smiled as you heard his voice, turning to see your beautiful mate smiling at you.

“Maybe Cassian can come and fly me out,” you challenged,

“Ha, ha.” He deadpanned and you giggled, standing to wrap yourself in his arms,

“In my world it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the service,” you whispered into his chest,

“This technically isn’t a wedding,”

“That’s a fair point,” you muttered, and he smiled down at you,

“It would be a shame to deprive me of this sight, you look beautiful princess,” he spun you out of his arms and you giggled, making his heart swell with love.

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

“C’mon, we should go soon, Cassian’s already crying,” you laughed and grabbed his hand as he pulled you along and down the stairs. You gasped when you reached the bottom, there were flowers everywhere, the whole room transformed into a fairy wonderland that made you feel giddy. You smiled when you saw that Cassian was in fact, already tearing up as he stood to greet you, complementing you and thanking you for making his brother so happy, you had laughed and shoved him away in your emotional state, not wanting to cry so early, as you moved to the sink in the room that was spraying a fine mist of water, creating a rainbow.

“Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show me Nico Di Angelo, Camp half blood.” You threw in a golden drachma, the image wavered before revealing your friends and family on the other side, waving, and sending greetings. The inner circle came over and you all conversed for a while before Azriel was rather impatiently tugging on your hand and you moved onto the ceremony, with just your found families present. Having been raised mortal you insisted on exchanging rings, and Azriel was completely happy to oblige, obsessed with the feeling of pushing the ring onto your finger and kissing you, having someone that was wholly his, and who he was completely devoted to.

The rest of the day was spent curled under Azriel’s arm, sipping cocktails, and laughing as you were told all the most embarrassing things the inner circle could dig up. You ate delicious food and laughed with your friends, you heart aching at how naturally this happiness came to you now as you gazed at the man you loved.

You stood outside, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the slight chill that came through the thin shawl you had wrapped around you shoulders. Soon you felt a familiar hand press into your hip, pulling you into his side tightly. You looked up at him, still in wonder of how you landed such a beautiful man.

He caught your gaze, brushing a snowflake of your cheek and grabbing your hand, pressing a light kiss into the palm. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, gaze so full of love that tears welled up in your eyes.

“I’m just so glad you got stabbed,” you muttered, and he laughed before you continued, “I’m serious, I don’t know where I’d be if we hadn’t met, but you are everything to me and I’m so glad we pushed through, I’m so glad we fought to be together.”

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as he pulled you in tightly, his scarred hands moving over your scarred back as you sighed, content.

“I love you.” You replied, pulling away and watching as a red admiral butterfly landed on a nearby poppy.

#acofas #acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acowar #heroes of olympus #acosf #acofs #rhysand

72 notes · View notes

imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Text

Defender of Men

Alex Lightwood birth storyyy!! I’m finally publishing it because someone sent me an ask on it, but it became too long, so here’s part one:

“Cecily, are sure you’ll be alright?” Gabriel asked.

“Jiw jiw, for the millionth time, I’ll be fine.” she said, pushing Gabriel out the door. “Now go do something useful.”

Anna was already outside, leaning against a tree, frowning down at her dress.

“Anna, gwnewch yn siŵr bod eich tad yn stopio poeni.” Cecily said.

Gabriel looked at her, annoyed. “I speak Welsh, Cecy.”

Cecily kissed his cheek, “Then make sure you do well on what I said.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and hugged her with one of his arms.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No, Gabriel.” She said, putting a hand on his chest. “Just have fun sledding with Anna, your nieces and Gideon. Sophie is right next door, if I need anything—which, I won’t—I’ll just call her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not made of glass, love. I’ll be fine. Now go before our poor Anna gets stuck frozen to that tree.”

Gabriel dropped a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go.

Cecily watched as he walked to Anna, who made a show of pretending to be asleep. He ruffled her hair, stealing her hat in the process and running down the street. Anna laughed and chased after him.

…

“Kit, bach, are you sure you don’t want to go sledding with Anna and your father? I’m sure it will be loads of fun,” Cecily said, once she was back inside.

Kit furrowed his eyebrows and cast a hesitant look outside. “I think I’d rather stay with you, Mam.”

Cecily smiled, knowing perfectly well Kit didn’t like the cold. “Alright then, fy ngalon bapur i.” (A/N: my paper heart)

Cecily walked to the kitchen and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with tea. Before she picked them up, she grabbed a pocket watch that was on the counter and hung it on her neck so she could time her contractions.

When she got back to the drawing room, she tried to set the mugs on the table, but she couldn’t bend down that far. Christopher shot to his feet and helped her put them down, and lowered her to the couch.

“Thank you, darling.” Cecily said, bracing a hand of her belly. She felt like she was at the verge of giving birth, which is never a good thing, as a mother’s instinct is rarely wrong. The first stage of labour takes around fourteen hours, hence Gabriel’s hesitation to leave her at home. Cecily had thought he was being dramatic, but that was before she realized that she was maybe closer to birth than she had thought. Had fourteen hours already gone by?

“What book are you reading?” Cecily said, looking over her son’s shoulder, distracting herself.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

Cecily scrunched up her nose. She had never read the book herself, but from what she’d heard of, it didn’t seem like a book Christopher would be interested in.

“What a peculiar choice of literature, cyw.”

“Matthew recently read it and said it was at utmost importance I read it as well. I don’t understand much of it, though. I’m also not very fond of the characters. I’d prefer your company over that of this book.”

Cecily smiled. “As do I, bach.”

Having children was a strange experience for Cecily. She was apprehensive at first, afraid she wouldn’t be a good mother and her children would end up resenting her. When she got pregnant with her first child, she was so happy.

And when she lost it, she had been so incredibly grief-stricken.

She had felt like she’d already failed as a mother, even though the Silent Brothers confirmed there was nothing that there was nothing that could have been done differently to have saved it, that it wasn’t uncommon to lose a child in the early stages of pregnancy.

That was the cruel irony, wasn’t it? To feel so much regret, to have your child die inside of you, and not know what went wrong.

They’d tried again, and then she was pregnant with Anna. The whole time she had been so horribly sick, she was terrified of losing another child. This time, however, she’d been pregnant long enough that she’d have to give birth to the child, whether it was alive or dead.

Those months had been the worst in Cecily’s entire life. Not even when her father had gambled away their home in Wales, the one she had memories of running with Will and Ella down valleys, had she felt such despair.

“Mam?”

Cecily shook her head, bringing herself back to the drawing room sofa, beside Kit.

“What is it, bach?”

“Does the baby have a name yet?”

Cecily rubbed her belly. “Not yet. Why do you ask?”

Kit shrugged.

Cecily suddenly felt a contraction. She started the pocket watch timer and sat forward and breathed deeply to try to relieve the pain. This one felt longer than the rest had been.

Kit looked at her from over his book, his eyebrows together.

Once it had passed, Cecily stopped the timer. After a couple of seconds of recovering from the contraction, she looked at the time, and swallowed.

“Kit,” she said as calmly as she could. “Bach, I need you to ring for the Silent Brothers.”

…

Brother Enoch, Zachariah and another brother Cecily couldn’t remember were preparing for the birth. Christopher had helped her up the stairs, before the brothers had come, and was now standing in a far corner of the room, at loss for what he should do.

“Christopher.” She said, motioning for him to come.

“You needn’t be here. I’ll be fine and your father will soon be here. I already asked Sophie to send him here once he stops by after sledding. You can wait outside until then.”

“But Mam, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I’m with the Silent Brothers.”

Christopher looked over his shoulder at the Brothers.

Cecily put a hand under his chin and turned his face to face her own. She smiled at him.

“Go, Kit. It’s alright. I’ve done this before.” She said with a smile.

“I want to stay here. With you.”

Cecily tried to rub away a smudge on Christopher’s face, perhaps something to do with his most recent experiment.

“I don’t think you do, bach. When people say birth is a natural process, it’s because they’re trying to glorify a process that’s ghastly.”

Cecily looked deep into his lavender eyes and smiled. “Now go, before I start crowning. Trust me when I say you’ll wish you’d have gone.”

Christopher made to move, but didn’t get up.

“I want to help you. I want to stay with you the way you stayed when I got my first rune.”

Cecily wanted to argue that this was different but she suddenly got a contraction that was long enough she knew she’d have to push at any moment.

Sure enough, Brother Enoch said, you must begin pushing soon, Cecily Lightwood.

“You have to be sure, Christopher.” She said through her teeth. “One-hundred percent sure. And you must stay on this side of the bed, because I don’t want you to see the birthing process. I’ll only let you stay because if not I’m afraid you’ll ‘stress experiment’ and blow up the house.”

Kit nodded quickly.

“Alright then.” She said.

Are you ready to push?

“Yes. Let’s finish what we started, Enoch.” Cecily said, taking Christopher’s hand in her own and bracing herself for the birth.

…

Congratulations, Cecily Lightwood, it’s a boy. Enoch said in her head, less than half an hour later.

Cecily fell back on the pillows, exhausted. Birth never really got easier over the years.

Jem came around with the baby in his arms and gave him to Cecily. She swore she saw him stroke the baby’s hair as he walked to her. She smiled up at him.

“Thank you, Jem.” She said, quietly.

He inclined his head at her and walked away.

Cecily looked down at her youngest son for the first time. She’d helped other women give birth when she was younger, and had always thought newborn babies ugly, but whenever she looked down at her own, they were the most beautiful and perfect little things in the entire world. She smiled and offered the little baby her finger to hold.

Like with all of her other children, she felt her eyes sting. There was something about holding her child for the first time that always brought chills to Cecily’s body. It’s not like when she held Anna for the first time, the feeling she felt that her life would forever be changed, but it was more like when Christopher was born; she didn’t feel any fear, just happiness. She kissed the baby’s forehead.

“I wish you could have met your grandparents.” She whispered.

Edmund and Linette had passed away four months ago, and it had been difficult for Cecily not having been able to visit them when they were still alive. Since she was pregnant, she and the baby would be at high risk of death, if she caught the influenza disease.

She tried to shake off the memory. Right now, she only wanted to focus on the good things in life, not the bad.

She looked up and saw Christopher a distance away from where she was. He must have moved away from her once the baby was out and the Silent Brothers began moving about, preparing the child to be held and checking to make sure everything was alright. Christopher looked at the baby in wonder, one of the first babies he’d ever seen.

“Come meet your brother, Kit.” She said, holding a hand out.

She motioned for Christopher to sit next to her on the bed and, resting the baby on her chest momentarily, demonstrated how to position his arms.

“That’s right, bach.” She said, lifting the baby to put in Kit's arms.

“Mam,” he said nervously. “What if I drop him?”

Cecily smiled. “You won’t. I have faith in you.”

She gently placed the baby in his brother’s arms, Christopher looking like he was holding his breath.

“Breathe, darling. It’s just your brother. Look at how much he likes you. He’s already reaching out to you.” The baby’s hands were indeed opening and closing slowly. Cecily helped Christopher adjust his arms, so that he was supporting the baby’s head better, and when she sat back, she felt a pang in her chest at seeing her two sons together. Christopher had a soft smile on his lips, the smile that many people had told her is the same as her own.

Sometime after she’d put the baby in Kit’s arms, a Silent Brother told her she needed to push out the placenta, so that they could begin healing the tears induced by the birth. She nodded and when she began pushing again, Kit looked up, confused.

“Is there another one?” He asked, surprised, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Heavens, no. Thank the Angel. It’s just the placenta.”

Christopher still looked confused.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, bach.” She reassured him.

…

The Silent Brothers were gone by the time Gabriel and Anna got home.

Cecily had been feeding the baby, and Christopher was reading a book on his back, keeping her company. He’d given up on reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, had switched it for a book on science. Cecily had tried to read a couple of sentences, but was deeply confused by them, not being able to understand a thing.

“I don’t know how you can read that, Christopher. I can’t follow a single sentence, much less the entire book.”

Kit looked up at her. “It’s not that hard, it’s just that Biology is interconnected, so you have to understand the previous concepts to understand this one.”

Cecily laughed. “You put a lot of faith in me, Kit.”

Christopher tilted his head to the side.

“What are you reading about now?”

“Genetics. Why children come out looking like their parents.”

“There’s an explanation behind that?” She asked.

“Yes! We all inherit half of our genes from our mother and half from our father.”

“Are you sure? I can’t imagine your father inheriting anything from Benedict.”

“It’s more so to do with physical traits.” Kit explained. “Like blue eyes or green eyes.”

“That’s quite interesting, bach.” she said.

And that’s how Cecily got a lesson on genetics. She was happy to listen to her son talk happily about science and to have her new baby in her arms and be able to kiss his tiny, soft nose and occasionally ruffle Christopher’s hair.

…

“By the Angel, Cecy.” Gabriel said, coming inside, worried. Both Anna and Gabriel had a lot of snow on their coats. They must have come home running after hearing the news. “Are you alright? Is the baby?”

“Yes, yes. Stop worrying.” Cecily said, holding up the bundle of blankets they’d hidden the baby inside of.

Anna’s eyes widened as her eyes landed on the bundle in Cecily’s arms. “Is that the baby? It’s so small.”

Cecily nodded and Anna walked quickly to kneel beside the bed and smiled at the baby.

“Hello.” She whispered, touching his cheek lightly.

“This is your new brother,” Cecily said, smiling at Anna.

Gabriel leaned in over Cecily’s shoulder, close enough that she could see his face as he smiled down at his youngest child. He put a hand on her shoulder, and kissed her temple lightly while Anna cooed at the baby.

…

A few moments later, Anna was sitting on the armchair across the room, holding the baby for the first time, Christopher standing to the side, letting the baby hold his finger.

Gabriel leaned close to her and whispered, “what do you think about Alexander?”

Cecily turned to look at him and smiled. “Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged, brushing her hair away from her face. “I was thinking about names while I took Anna sledding. I tried to come up with names for each letter of the alphabet and I got to ‘Maxwell’ before I thought of Alexander.”

Cecily looked back at her children, interlacing her hand with Gabriel’s. “What made you think of Alexander?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe the letter ‘X’ that they have in common.”

Cecily felt her smile grow wider. “I love it. Alexander.”

She felt Gabriel put his arms around her and she rested her head on his warm chest.

“The birth wasn’t that bad, was it?” Gabriel said, his voice lightly amused.

“Go to hell.” Cecily mumbled against his shirt.

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @writeforjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @will-effing-herondale @axoloteca @heronstairs2014 @ilovemanicures

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Oh, an if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded haha)

#cecily lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily x gabriel #alexander lightwood #christopher lightwood #anna lightwood #tsc #tsc fanfictions #tlh fanfiction #tid fanfiction

60 notes · View notes