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snowstark · 3 years

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counting to 100. 🍒

For @tonystarkbingo | Fill: Peter Parker/Spider-Man For @peterparkerbingo | Fill: Villain Redemption The one where the Superior Iron Man finds himself having a soft spot for Little!Peter who regresses after a stressful day as Spider-Man. READ ON AO3

The first time Peter saw him, it was when he was out on patrol.

He remembered hiding behind the line of hedges on the penthouse rooftop, stilling his breath like he was terrified that he could hear him. He remembered letting out a little gasp when the— the thing—armour?—wrapped around his body, enveloping him like a snake slithering up his torso, and remembered the way his blue gaze had snapped to his hiding spot. He’d known he’d given himself away that night.

But the Superior hadn’t done anything; his gaze lingered on Peter for a few moments before he disappeared, leaving behind a trail of dust as he shot off.

The second time Peter saw him, it was when he was sitting on the curbside of the empty playground, humming under his breath as he traced the alphabet into the sand. He’d had a rough day, and he could feel the familiar haze of warmth and safety and softness approaching him when he was interrupted by a set of sharp, clean black shoes at the corner of his vision. He jumped to his feet and stared with wide eyes. It was 4 in the morning; no one ever came to this area by now.

But this was the Superior, and he played by his own rules.

Peter’s chest tightened with fear and he stammered, “I— ‘m not—”

“You’re young,” the Superior noted, and Peter fell silent, wringing his mask in his hands.

Then, he looked down and gasped. His mask! He was— he wasn’t supposed to let anyone see— he tried to yank it back onto his face but a silver tendril shot out and wrapped around his wrist, making him choke on another gasp. “Please,” Peter whimpered.

“So fearful, little one. What scares you this way?”

And that— that was just a ridiculous question. The Superior was scaring Peter, and there was no way he didn’t know that. Peter knew who the Superior was, knew what he could do, but he was little right now, and fear only made him feel smaller by the second.

“I don’t—” A pitiful noise escaped Peter’s throat again, and the tendril retreated to hover over the letters scrawled into the sand. Peter followed the movement with his gaze. He’d stopped at ‘P.’

Then, the Superior wrote, slowly: ‘Q.’

Peter’s lips parted in surprise.

“What comes next, little one?”

Peter’s gaze jumped back to his face, and the armour melted away like a melting snowman. The Superior raised his eyebrows, and Peter bit his lip, then said softly, “R.”

The Superior’s lips quirked into a small smile. “That’s correct. Smart thing, aren’t you?”

Peter felt his cheeks tinting with warmth, and he ducked his head. The warm, fuzzy feeling was approaching his vision again, strong this time, even though deep down, somewhere in his brain, he knew he should be making an excuse, should be trying to put some distance between them, and get home safely.

But thoughts were hard. It was like trying to swim in mud. Fuzzy mud. And Peter wasn’t a caterpillar.

So, he looked down at the sand, bent down, and wrote ‘R.’ Then, he looked up at the Superior, who nodded, and he wrote ‘S,’ then ‘T’ and ‘U.’ He continued until he reached ‘Z,’ where he ended it off by drawing a little heart.

“‘m done,” he said softly, looking up at the Superior.

The man had his hands tucked into his pockets, and he gave Peter an impressed look, drawling, “Look how smart you are. Now can you count to 100?”

Peter blinked, and said uncertainly, “‘s— ‘s a big number.”

The Superior’s lips tugged into a smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit. “It is, isn’t it?” Then, he turned his head, like he was concentrating on something far away, and Peter got on his tip-toes to try to see too. Except he didn’t see anything but the dark, black sky.

Then, the Superior said, “Practice your numbers, little one,” before the armour covered him in a shimmering case of silver. He was gone within moments, leaving Peter standing there with nothing but the English alphabet etched into the sand.

--- --- ---

For some inexplicable reason, Peter found himself back at the playground again the next day. Someone had erased the alphabet, but he wasn’t upset. He could start again.

The weather was getting colder now. He’d have to bring a jacket or something to wear over his suit when he was done patrolling. He always got a little more chilly when he was slipping into that safe space too, like he was being poked by icicles.

He was sitting on the swings when the Superior arrived, as if they’d planned a rendezvous.

He looked up, surprised. The first day had been a coincidence, this was not.

The Superior was silent as the armour melted away, and Peter fidgeted nervously before squeaking out, “Hi.”

The Superior lifted a poised eyebrow. “You’re out late again.”

“Um, I patrol.” Peter lifted his mask up, blinking uncertainly up at him. “‘s my break time right now. And ‘m hungry.”

“Patrol, huh?” A coil of metal reached out to flick Peter under the chin, making him jump. “Brave boy, keeping this place safe.”

“Sometimes,” Peter said softly. “Because sometimes I see bad things on TV at school ‘n I have to go fix it.”

“Oh, do you? Is that why you can’t count to 100? Been skipping class too much, little dove?”

Peter’s lips formed a small pout before he could help himself. “I can count,” he protested, affronted. “‘s just a little bit hard, sometimes.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can always ask for help, can’t you?” The Superior approached him, watched his feet skitter nervously on the sand of the playground.

Peter nodded timidly, then asked, “What’s a dove?”

The Superior’s lips twitched. “You’re a dove.”

Peter looked down at himself, confused, then back up at him. “‘m not! ‘m just— ‘m just Peter.”

The Superior didn’t say anything, just watched him fidget some more on the swing before he murmured, “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

The Superior gave a slight nod.

“I like surprises,” Peter admitted softly.

“Well, then, you’re a lucky boy.” The Superior extended a silver tendril behind the bushes to draw something out.

Peter slid off the swing, eyes wide. Then, when the object was close enough for him to make out what it was, he gasped. “For me?”

The Superior nodded again, pressing the white teddy bear into his chest.

Peter grabbed it immediately, pressing his fingers into the fur. It was softer than anything else he’d ever touched; it didn’t feel like a cheap dollar-store purchase, but more like the type you would see on display at fancy clothing stores, sitting on the counter. He pressed his face to it, rubbing his cheek against it as he let out happy noises.

“What do you say?”

Peter’s gaze jerked up to meet the Superior’s expectant gaze. “Thank you,” he said breathlessly. “I love her.”

The Superior looked smug. “I knew you would.” Then, he turned around again, just like he’d done last night, staring at what only he could see, and Peter clutched the bear closer to him.

“Um— Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?” The Superior didn’t turn his head.

“Can I— she’s mine?”

“She is.” With that, the silver armour began to ghost over his body again, and Peter almost watched with an air of desperation as his face disappeared from view.

“Mr. Superior?” he blurted out in a rush before he could leave.

The Superior waited.

“Um— thank you. Can I have 100 bears?” The words left without Peter realizing it and he gasped, mortified that he’d even asked such a thing. He sounded spoiled.

But the Superior just chuckled. “Maybe if you learn how to count, sure.”

“And um— will you— will you be here tomorrow, maybe?” Peter bit his cheeks, flushing.

The Superior tilted his head. “Do you want me to be?”

Peter ducked his head, shuffling his feet.

When he didn’t respond, the Superior told him, “I’ll be here,” before he turned and left the playground.

Peter watched him disappear, then looked down at the bear in his hands for a long time before heading home.

--- --- ---

The Superior met him every night after that, and that was just incomprehensible to Peter. He knew the man had better things to do. Maybe he was just interested in him because he knew he was Spider-Man.

But even that didn’t make sense, because the Superior never brought it up, nor did he try to hurt him. In fact, Peter found that the urge to go on patrol and be New York’s brave superhero was lessening in favour of being small with the Superior.

The Superior was nice to him. Nicer than anything he could’ve ever imagined. He always brought Peter nice gifts, like a snack, or a warm hoodie for him to wear, and even some hot chocolate.

He always said nice things to Peter too, like you’re a smart boy and such sweet manners, little one, I’m impressed.

But then, one night, for the first time, the Superior was upset with him.

Peter was terrified, and had nearly started sobbing as he collapsed into the swing, the meat of his palms pressed to his eyes.

“What did you say to me?” the Superior demanded, and Peter had never heard his voice like that before.

“I don’t— ‘m sorry—” he whimpered, breath quickening when he felt a tendril of metal wrap around his wrists, pulling them down from his face. “Just— just don’t wanna keep takin’ gifts, M-Mr. Superior, don’t want anymore—”

“Oh, no, no,” the Superior interrupted, his ice-cold gaze burning into Peter, and that didn’t make sense either, because ice was supposed to be cold, not hot. “That’s not your choice to make. It’s always the same thing with you little ants. Never happy, never grateful, only little brats.”

“‘m sorry!” Peter cried again, sniffling.

The Superior was quiet for a few moments, and all Peter could hear was the sound of the man’s harsh breathing in the space between them before it gradually deepened into its regular soothing rhythm. Then— “You’re a sweet boy.”

The words made Peter’s eyes fly open in confusion, and he asked tearfully, “I am?”

The Superior nodded. His gaze was more gentle now. Not soft like it usually was, but gentle. “And that’s why I keep bringing you gifts, little one. It’s rude to deny them when I’m being generous. I’m not always a generous man.”

“Just to me,” Peter sniffled.

“That’s right,” the Superior crooned. “Smart boy, always learning so fast. C’mere, little one, let your Superior teach you how to repent properly.”

Peter stumbled forward, scrunching his face as he mumbled, “I dunno what that word means, Mr. Superior.”

“It means you show me how sorry you are.” The Superior cupped his chin with a hand, tipping his face up. “Because you were rude, weren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter hiccuped. “‘m sorry.”

The Superior’s thumb stroked over his cheek. Then, he said, “No more tears, little one. I can tell how sorry you are. Had a bit of a scare, didn’t you, poor thing?”

And that was confusing too, because the Superior was comforting him like he’d just woken up from a nightmare when he was the nightmare. But Peter just pressed into the touch and mumbled again, “‘m sorry.”

“I know, little one. But you’re going to be so much more well-behaved now, I know it. You’re a good boy.”

Peter nodded timidly.

For the rest of the night, the Superior watched Peter struggle to complete the hopscotch he’d drawn for him in the sand before leaving.

--- --- ---

Peter was considerably meeker the next day, and he knew that the Superior knew. But he couldn’t help it; he just wanted to be good.

Eventually, the Superior said, “Want to do something fun, little one?”

“Fun?” Peter blinked, then asked softly, “What kinda fun?”

“Mmm.” The Superior tilted his head, eyes glinting. They almost looked like the moon in the sky, glimmering with light. Like a night-light, almost. “Do you want to fly, little one?”

“Fly?” Peter gasped, eyes wide. “I— I can kind of fly.” He held his wrists out in demonstration of his web shooters.

The Superior chuckled, reaching out—with his hand, for once—to gently grip his wrist and tug it back down. “Oh, sweet thing, that’s not true flight. I can show you how to really fly. I promise it’ll be fun. A reward for being so good today.” He crouched down now, eye-level with Peter sitting on the ground. “Do you trust me?”

Peter stared at him, breath shallow in his chest. He wrapped a hand around the Superior’s finger, looked down at it, then back up at his face. “Yes,” he whispered.

The Superior reached out and picked him up, and Peter let him. “Good boy. Hang on tight.”

“Yes, Mr. Superior.” Peter did exactly as he was told, clinging to the Superior’s arms as they stood with his back to the Superior’s front. He could feel the familiar shift as the armour wreathed over the Superior’s body, but it didn’t cover him.

“Are you ready, little one?” The words were spoken in a low voice, quiet enough that Peter had to strain to listen to him.

“Uh-huh.” Peter tightened his grip, heart beginning to pound. He knew he’d be fine. The Superior hadn’t hurt him yet, and he wouldn’t now. And if he fell, well, he had his webs. He might be a little more clumsy with how small he was feeling, but he could do it.

Or maybe the Superior would be the one to catch him.

“Good.” With that, the Superior lifted off the ground, making Peter inhale sharply.

They went up, up, and up, until Peter was convinced that they could touch the sky. Then they were going forward, picking up speed, and Peter gradually found himself relaxing as fear left him, replaced by pure delight at the sight of the twinkling buildings illuminated against the night sky.

The wind was cold against his face as the Superior let them swoop down. Peter let out a thrilled yelp and let his arms fly out, the Superior’s grip on him the only thing keeping him held and safe.

There was a chuckle from above. “Little dove, flying through the air, hm? Daddy taught you how to fly?”

Peter grinned and twisted in his grip, and the Superior held tight. “‘m flying!” he shouted, feet kicking before he could help himself.

Another laugh, and the Superior didn’t say anything else.

Peter kept his arms extended as they shot through the sky, and the Superior even did a loop-de-loop when he begged him enough. Then, Peter pointed at a little apartment building that they zoomed by and squealed, “‘s where I live!”

“Is it?” the Superior murmured, sounding interested. “Do you want me to drop you off at home, little one? Is it bedtime for you yet?”

Peter shook his head adamantly, pouting. “Nooo, I wanna stay with you.” He glanced up, craning his neck, and found the Superior looking down at him.

“Always saying the right things, little dove.”

Peter smiled. He was being good, and now he got to fly with the Superior, and he’d ask if they could do the same thing tomorrow night, too. He was sure he’d get a yes in return.

He turned his attention back to the buildings they shot past, then gasped. “What’s that?” he pointed at the large tower standing tall and proud amongst all the other buildings.

“That’s my tower.”

“Yours?” Peter gasped, eyes wide. “You live there? ‘s so big!”

The Superior nodded, speed picking up the slightest bit. “Do you want to see it?”

Peter didn’t hesitate. “Yes! Please!”

The Superior chuckled. “Well, only because you asked so nicely. I do have a weak spot for pretty words.” With that, he held onto Peter tighter before shooting off towards the tower.

Peter squealed, covering his face with his hands. “Can’t breathe!” he proclaimed dramatically, hearing the wind whip past his ears.

The Superior laughed above him. “Don’t be ridiculous, little one. You’re perfectly fine.”

Peter gave a little wriggle, but he didn’t voice any more protests as they neared the tower.

It was even more grand up close, with big fat letters that said “STARK” and windows that reflected the moonlight that shone down on them. Peter squirmed to get down, and when their feet landed on the platform, their shadows painted streaks across the floor.

“Wow,” Peter breathed, craning his neck to stare up at the sky. They were so close to the moon, he could feel it. He wondered what the moon would feel like in his hand. Cold and heavy, maybe. “Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?”

“Can you get the moon for me?” Peter turned big, pleading eyes to the Superior.

The Superior chuckled. “Perhaps one day, little one.” He outstretched a hand, and Peter took it, obediently scampering by his heel like an excited puppy as they walked towards the open door.

The Superior led him inside, then let go of his hand. Peter immediately ran to the large windows and pressed his nose against it. “‘s so pretty.”

“Do you like the view?”

Peter nodded without turning to look at him.

Then, there was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly to get his attention. Peter looked up and met a pair of pale blue eyes. “You see that, little one?” Peter followed the Superior’s finger to stare out of the window and at the sparkling city before him. “This is my world. This is my universe. I own it all. And if you’re good, I can give you some of it too.”

“For me?” Peter’s eyes widened. “But— but I dunno how to own it.” He could barely keep track of where he left his stuffies, never mind buildings.

The Superior chuckled. “Well, it’s why you have me. You can always ask for help.” He ran a soothing hand through Peter’s wind-tousled hair. “Are you hungry?”

“Mhm.” Peter blinked up pleadingly. “Pizza.”

The Superior rolled his eyes. “You always want pizza.”

“‘cause it’s good!” Peter pouted.

“Fine. But only one with veggies on it.”

Peter pulled a face, but he knew he’d already lost the fight. Maybe he could pick them off when the pizza came. He followed the Superior towards the kitchen, counting the number of windows they passed by. Then— “Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?” The Superior looked down at him.

“Can you— can you help me? Um, to count to 100?” Peter asked softly.

The Superior appraised him, then smiled. “Oh, little one, you most definitely asked the right person.”

Peter smiled, biting his bottom lip happily, then got up onto his tip-toes to plant a quick, shy kiss to the Superior’s cheek. “Thank you.”

He knew he could always ask the Superior for help.

part 2?? maybe?? tagging: @vaguekiwi @carelessannie @starkentrprises @thegreenmetblue @professional-benaddict

#starker #ironspider #sim!tony #peterparkerbingo2021 #tsbmv #little!peter #daddy!tony #my fics #please i did not mean to turn this into a 3k fic #idk if i’ll do a part 2 but maybe :0

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed.

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.”

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own.

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.”

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined.

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.”

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided.

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about.

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist.

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back.

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #ml fic #lila lies

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amatchinwater · 3 years

Text

Did a little thing for Day 2 of Stackson Week 2021!

Day 2: Trapped together

Pairing: Stackson

Warnings: underage drinking

Word count: 2709

Rating: teen and up

Ao3 link

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to have a party at Lydia’s lake house in the middle of hurricane lever rain and a goddamn flood warning. What’s even worse is he’s the first person to show up! Lydia herself isn’t even here yet. The banshee was kind enough to tell him where they put the hide-a-key so he could get in and out of the storm. Scott and Isaac aren’t picking up or answering his texts. If they’re not here because they’re too busy fucking and Stiles has to be here soaked and alone, he’s going to kill them.

When Stiles gets in the house, he stomps his shoes on the mat to not track in any mud. Lyds would castrate him for that, so he takes them off just to be safe. Slipping out of his jacket, Stiles hangs it on the hook, careful not to let it drip anywhere other than the little rug underneath it. The house is empty and eerily dark. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? He’s the only fucking one here. Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles’ preturbrance only grows.

It doesn’t even look like the place is meant to house a party in the next twenty minutes. Nothing is set up. There isn't a single bag of chips or other snacks on the counter. No pizzas and sandwich platters like her birthday. A keg is not beside the island either. Just two bottles of wine with a sticky note that reads-

“Have fun?”

Oh my god! Stiles jumps and flails, nearly knocking the bottles over on the counter.

“What kind of fucking game is she playing?” Jackson snatches the note, rereading it before flicking it back towards the island.

Still clutching his wildly beating heart, Stiles gasps, “could you maybe announce yourself next time?” He collects himself- mostly. “Not all of us have your little wolf senses. You almost gave me a heart attack, you fuck.”

Jackson snorts and almost playfully bumps him with his shoulder. “Not my fault you left the front door unlocked, Stilinski.”

Fuck this. “I’m leaving.” Stiles stalks back towards the front door, yanking his jacket off the hook and grabbing his shoes. Whipping the open the door, the teen groans loudly, dropping his head back, “you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“What are you bitching about now?” The wolf steps beside him and looks outside, his eyes widen drastically. “Holy shit!”

The lake has officially overflown since they’ve shown up and the driveway is at least three inches deep with water. Jackson’s care looks like it’s barely capable of surviving if it gets too high. Stiles almost cares enough to wonder if they should move it. This fucking storm! Now he’s stuck here with nowhere to go. Yes, he has a jeep, but the road out is no doubt a muddy mess that even Roscoe can’t navigate.

Closing the door and putting his clothes back where they were, Stiles whines, “why would she pick today to do this?” Thinking about the weather his dad forced him to watch this morning. Most cities were calling in downed power lines and massive branches flying through the streets.

She knew this storm was coming. So much so that Lydia even reminded him to wear his boots rather than his sneakers. “I guess I better call Scott, tell him not to come. No use in him getting stuck in the woods like this.” Sures, having his best friend here would make this exceptionally better. But Stiles doesn’t want to break up any fights between a stir crazy Jackson and Isaac. Fishing in his pocket, Stiles pulls out his phone and smashes the call button in annoyance.

“Stiles, hey. I’m sorry I did-” Scott answers on the second ring only to be cut off by Stiles.

“I don’t care if you and Isaac were fucking,” Jackson chuckles at his jab. “Don’t come to Lydia’s. The lake flooded and now Jackson and I can’t leave.”

“Okay,” Scott draws out the word and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken sounds a little confused. Jackson’s brows knit together at the response too. Okay, so it did sound weird then. “I’m sorry you’re stuck there, dude. But maybe this will be a good thing?”

Is he serious? “How the fuck is it supposed to be a good thing to be stuck in a goddamn house with someone who hates my guts?” Stiles’ hand slaps his thigh in exasperation. Not to mention the asshole in question was hotter than hell fire and makes it incredibly hard to be in the same room with him. Not thinking about that when Jackson can smell his chemosignals.

“Well,” Scott drawls, “you did say you had a crush on him.” Stiles blanches and goes stalk still, forgetting how to fucking breathe. Jackson snorts beside him. Stiles is going to kill Scott. “Oh my god! He’s right next to you, isn’t he?”

“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles makes a point to stare at the floor and not at the shuffling wolf beside him. “Well, thanks for getting me killed. Great best friend job, truly. See ya probably never, Scotty.” He promptly hangs up before Scott can answer.

“So,” Jackson purrs and Stiles can’t help but turn and face the wolf. His arms are crossed from where he leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him. Jackson’s face holds that stupid, sexy, douchbag smirk, “you like me?”

He’s not even going to entertain that. Stiles squints at him with his mouth slightly parted. It only makes Jackson chuckle. “I need a drink,” Stiles uses every ounce of self control not to literally run away and back into the kitchen. Sifting through the drawers until he finds the corkscrew, Stiles grabs a bottle. Once the cork is out- that actually had already been opened- Stiles could give fuck all about a glass. He takes a sip directly from the bottle, regretting it at the extensive bitter taste of wolfsbane.

Clearly that one’s for Jackson. He’s courteous enough to slide the wine across the island when Jackson is back in the room. The wolf stares at him as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece and drinks from it, not giving a damn to wipe it after Stiles’ drank first. The other boy just watches before his brain recovers and he opens his own bottle. Setting the cork and opener aside, Stiles grabs the wine and leaves the wolf in the kitchen to go sit in the living room where Lydia keeps the playstation.

Plopping on the couch, Stiles lets himself sink into the cushion and takes several swigs. Actually rather enjoying the slight burn and the warmth that quickly settles in his belly. He can very easily just sit here and watch tv like Jackson doesn’t even exist. Stiles can go to literally anywhere else to be away from the wolf if need be. He cannot believe that Jackson found out he likes him.

Fucking Scott.

It takes a few minutes for Jackson to join him. Stiles already has Supernatural playing and has killed a good third of his wine before the wolf is sitting next to him. Like right next to him. One nervous leg bounce and their thighs or knees will touch. Seriously? Lydia has two couches, a chaise lounge, and two armchairs in her living room. So why is he so close?

Scratch that initial thought. There’s like six other rooms in this big ass house that Jackson could’ve gone to. Why here? Stiles drinks more.

Jackson takes another small sip, looking like he’s barely drank anything from his own bottle before saying, “I have a secret to tell you.”

He fights the eyeroll only just, “what information could you possibly have that I would care about?” Amber eyes stay glued to the flat screen.

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock interest. Even though there’s something tickling at his heart that Jackson didn’t call him ‘idiot’ or ‘Stilinski’. He can’t allow himself to fall for the wolf’s tricks. He won’t let the rug get yanked out from under him.

“Quite the opposite actually.”

Stiles snorts and turns to make some smart ass retort. But his ‘yeah right’ gets stuck on his tongue finding Jackson’s face mere inches from his own. He gulps. Clearing his throat, Stiles takes a big sip before putting his bottle on the small table beside him. Too fuzzy and warm to process this, Stiles scooches until he’s pressing against the armrest.

Jackson also places his bottle on the coffee table before sliding closer. Forcing Stiles to half turn into the couch while the wolf puts an arm on either side of him, completely encasing Stiles. “I like you,” he presses further, “a lot.” Jackson leans in until their noses brush, “tell me if you want me to stop.”

Blame the wine. Blame his hormones for not wanting him to stop. Hell, blame everyone and everything, Stiles included. But he does have a massive crush on Jackson. Even though he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. The guy’s a prick. He has no problem letting people know that he’s better than them. Making damn sure to flaunt his money too. As if that makes him hotter or something. It doesn’t.

No, it’s the icy blue eyes that make Stiles want to learn their secrets and harvest the knowledge. The wolf’s stupid jaw that’s perfect and Stiles just wants to bite it. He;s seen Jackson naked numerous times- thank you locker room shower’s forgotten concept of privacy. But god damn, when Jackson smiles- not his asshole smirk, but genuine smile- Stiles’ lungs and knees forget how to function. Despite his actions earlier, the teen is actually pretty happy to be stuck here.

Only acting as though he hates Jackson because he was simply following the wolf’s lead. His eyes flick to Jackson’s bottle of wine- its contents too hard to see in the dark green glass from this distance- and back to hooded baby blues. There’s only two reasons Stiles can believe that this is actually happening right now.

Jackson’s drunk. Because Stiles doesn’t understand the extent in which wolfsbane affects werewolf's tolerance. Which would mean the ex-kanima has no idea what he’s doing and should go sleep it off. Stiles hopes it’s this because the latter is just too painful.

Jackson’s fucking with him. Surely he doesn’t have actual feelings for Stiles. Maybe the wolf found out he’s bi and wanted to tease him about it. Although, something tells him that Danny would murder Jackson if he ever found out. Still. This is Stiles. Lowest on the lacrosse totem pole and not the wolf’s best friend. Is Jackson that cruel though?

Beautiful, parted pink lips get closer, so Stiles whispers, “you’re just drunk,” and turns his head away, hoping that’s the case here. Waiting for the joke to play out.

“I’m really not.” Jackson reaches over to grab his drink. There’s maybe three sips missing when he dangles the bottle for proof. “See?” The wolf puts it back, returning with a smirk and a cocked brow, “now will you let me kiss you?” Jackson chuckles, it’s a breathy sound, but doesn’t make to move closer. Leaving it to Stiles.

He’s not falling for that trap. The prove-to-me-you-want-it-so-I-can-kick-you-down trap by making Stiles lean in. “So you’re fucking with me then?” He should’ve known better.

The other boy looks confused and a little offended. Jackson leans back farther, still sitting close, but no longer in Stiles’ personal space. He actually wants him to come back, but how could he ever tell the wolf that when this is just a game? “Why would I fuck with you about this?” Jackson’s voice is soft and full of so much emotion that Stiles almost believes him.

“Uh, because that’s what you do?” Stiles gestures wildly like it should have been obvious. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not even friends. You were literally my bully when we were kids. I don’t- and i-it only got worse when I developed a crush on Lydia. Which I get, she was your girlfr-”

“What’s not why I was a dick.” The wolf cuts him off with a shake of his head. Stiles squints an eye at him, mouth still hanging open from the word that didn’t finish. “I was jealous.”

“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?” Stiles scoffs and Jackson ducks his head with a chuckle. “Lydia never even looked at me while you were together.”

Jackson flashes a bemused grin when he looks back, “I was jealous of Lydia, you idiot.” The name usually bitten out comes with a tone that suggests it’s meant to be a term of endearment.

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t fawning over you like your little fan club, okay? My bad. You’re right, you’re incredibly hot and I should’ve stroked your ego by putting you some fucking pedestal-” Jackson swallows whatever other words and the surprised squeak from Stiles’ lips. He stares bug eyed at the wolf’s closed eyes. Jackson presses closer, his hand cupping the other boy’s cheeks while his tongue slides against Stiles’ bottom lip. Entrance isn’t given, he can’t really, Stiles is too shocked to do so.

The wolf pulls away, still holding Stiles’ face, “I didn’t care that you thought she was attractive.” Jackson drops a hand and lifts his hips, pulling one of Stiles’ legs until the human gets the massage and- for some fucking reason- lays on the couch. The wolf’s hips immediately settle into the space created and Stiles can feel just how much Jackson wants this. Him. “I wanted to be the one you had a crush on because of the massive one I have on you.”

That’s a lot to process. If Jackson liked him then- “why did you make my life hell?”

Jackson’s free hand falls to Stiles’ hip, rubbing softly and the other props himself on the armrest behind Stiles’ head. “I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I suddenly like guys. Well, a guy.” The wolf sighs, “Lydia knew and agreed to keep my secret as long as I needed her to. I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

Stiles has never seen him act so soft. Having Derek as an Alpha and a proper back must really be working for Jackson. It makes him charming in a way that his jerk persona never could. Being emotionally balanced and all that.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. And I’ll know if you’re lying. So don’t do me any favors and don’t hide from me either.” The warning is evident. Don’t say it and not mean it. And don’t mean it but not day it. Otherwise he’ll walk. “Will you please, let me fucking kiss you?”

Stiles fists his fingers in the wolf’s shirt- half expecting Jackson to snap at wrinkling his expensive clothes- to push him away or pull him closer, the other boy really doesn’t know. Until his arm moves of its own volition and Jackson’s mouth gets drawn to him.

The wolf chuckles against his lips, “finally.” The hand on his hip grips tighter and the other comes back to his jaw. Jackson tilts his head up to deepen the kiss. Jackson kisses like he wants to swallow Stiles whole. Maybe he does. Maybe Stiles would let him. Panting he pulls away again, and the other teen bites back a whine. “I have one more question and then I promise I’ll shut up.”

The human playfully rolls his eyes, “what is it?”

“Be with me.” Jackson states. Stiles cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, that wasn’t really a question. But his heart skips a beat nonetheless at the implication of the wolf’s words. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Stiles is nodding before the request is completely out of Jackson’s beautiful face. “Fuck yeah, dude.” The wolf breathes out a laugh at the ridiculousness. “Now just kiss me. Please?”

“Whatever you want,” Jackson grins and presses his body in further, claiming Stiles’ lips as his own.

Stiles is now stupidly happy about this storm locking them in Lydia’s lake house. He got a boyfriend out if.

#stackson #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #stiles x jackson #teen wolf #ao3 fic #stacksonweek2021

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 4: THE DAY I LOST EVERYTHING

We have to loose them Loose who? He'll take them. Who? We can't save them now. But I want to save them. "Y/N! Focus on running!" My dad yelled who was right behind us. I stopped in the middle of my tracks everyone turned to me. D/N was barking loudly, as if telling me to move. Everyone was telling me to move "I will save you don't worry." I said looking at my parents. "What---" As on cue lightning struck them. They aren't gone They aren't gone We will save them someday We will save them Now run My heart felt empty. I knew I was supposed to be sad, but I wasn't. It was like someone was directing me what I should do. Finally getting in on the car they all looked at me worried D/N nuzzled to my lap, Percy and Grover looked at me emphatically. Mrs Jackson was driving but occasionally glancing at the mirror. We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed the windshield. Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Percy sitting next to me and I wondered why I chose to be with him and not feel the weight of loosing my parents. I pulled D/N closer and hugged him. I didn't know what to do. Percy then broke the silence, "So, you and my mom... know each other?" Graver's eyes flitted to the rear view mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you." "Watching me?" "Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I am your friend." "Urn ... what are you, exactly?" "That doesn't matter right now." "It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey—" Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!" and cried, "Goat!" "What?" "I'm a goat from the waist down." "You just said it didn't matter." "Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!" "Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like ... Mr. Brunner's myths?" "Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?" "So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!" "Of course." "Then why—" "The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are. And not to mention there turns out to be two of you which is worse than what I thought!" "Who I—wait a minute, what do you mean?" The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail. "Percy," my mom said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety. You and Y/N." "Safety from what? Who's after me?" "Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions." "Grover!" "Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?" Don't worry. They won't hurt us. Have you thought of who you want to be your parent? We have plenty of options, I'd prefer if it was either Zeus or Hades but I wouldn't mind to be Ares's or Hephaestus's. I guess Athena isn't so bad as well. Who was your Father and mother's favorite? I want my mom and dad... to remain the same... Don't change them. As you wish. We have to leave soon. The moment you go get in the borders, we will loose connection. Who are we? I lied, we're not you. We're only messengers. We don't know when you'll contact yourself. But it's not anytime soon for sure. Only half of the prophecy has been fulfilled after all. But... you came and... told me to stay with Percy. Maybe you did try to make a connection. I only came to ask who you want parent to be. "Y/N!" "Huh?" "Do you know who your parent is? Do you know what's going on?" "What?" "You were talking about Greek gods..." Percy said. "I-I... was?" I asked looking at D/N as if he'd know the answer. "Where are we going?" Percy asked. "The summer camp I told you about." Percy mother's voice was tight. "The place your father wanted to send you." "The place you didn't want me to go." "Please, dear," his mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger." "Because some old ladies cut yarn." "Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to ... when someone's about to die." "Whoa. You said 'you.'" "No I didn't. I said 'someone.'" "You meant 'you.' As in me." "I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you." "Boys!" Mrs Jackson said. She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid—a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm. "What was that?" I asked. "We're almost there," Percy's mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please." I didn't know where there was, but I found myself anxious to arrive. I gripped Percy's hand as he leaned forward. Outside, nothing but rain and darkness—the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded. I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time. I don't know how but I wasn't hurt... or didn't know until I saw D/N had grown... bigger. Big enough to hide someone. He had cushioned my fall. "I'm okay boy, thanks." He shrunk and barked. He had a confused look as well as I did. "Percy!" I heard someone shouted. "I'm okay..." I tried to check on Percy. "You sure?" "Yeah..." He replied. The car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. Lightning. That was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off the road. Next to Percy in the backseat was a big motionless lump. "Grover!" He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. Percy shook his furry hip. Then he groaned "Food," and Percy sighed in relief. "Percy," his mother called, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered. I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns. I swallowed hard. "Who is—" "Percy, Y/N," his mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car." Mrs Jackson threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine. Stuck too. I looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking. D/N must've read the situation and jumped out through the roof. "D/N!" He started digging on the mud occasionally barking. "There! Climb out the passenger's side!" Percy's mother told us. "Y/.N, Percy—you two have to run. Do you see that big tree?" "What?" Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill. "That's the property line," Percy's mom said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door." "Mom, you're coming too." Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean. "No!" Percy shouted. "You are coming with me and Y/N. Help me carry Grover." "Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder. The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he couldn't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands—huge meaty hands—were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head ... was his head. And the points that looked like horns ... "He doesn't want us," my mother told me. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line." "But..." "We don't have time, Percy. Go. Please." Percy helped me climbed across Grover and I pushed the door open into the rain. "We're all going together. Come on, Mrs Jackson." "I told you—" "Mom! We are not leaving you. Help me with Grover." He didn't wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, Percy was dragging Grover from the car. Together, with Mrs Jackson they draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass. I followed carrying D/N in my arms. Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine—bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except underwear—I mean, bright white Fruit of the Looms—which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders. His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns—enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener. I recognized the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories my parents talked about. But he couldn't be real. I blinked the rain out of my eyes. "That's—" "Pasiphae's son," Percy's mother said. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you." "But he's the Min—" "Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power." The pine tree was still way too far—a hundred yards uphill at least. I glanced behind me again. The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows—or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away. "Food?" Grover moaned. "Shhh," Percy told him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?" "His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough." As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded. "Percy, Y/N," his mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way— directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?" "How do you know all this?" "I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me. I'm not like (Father's Name) or (Mother's Name), I can't hide you for good." "Keeping me near you? Hide me? But—" Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill. He'd smelled us. The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker. I could tell the Jackson's were having a hard time with Grover. The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us. Mrs Jackson must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy! Y/N! Separate! Remember what I said." I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right—it was our only chance. I sprinted to the left, Percy went the other way, we turned, and saw the creature bearing down on Percy. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat. He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at his chest. The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, and help Percy but I knew that wouldn't work. So I held my ground, and at the last moment, he jumped to the side. The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned, but not toward Percy this time, toward Mrs Jackson, who was setting Grover down in the grass. Thankfully its like they never saw me. We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as Percy's mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. We'd never make it. The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing Mrs Jackson, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover. "Run, Percy! Y/N" she told me. "I can't go any farther. Run!" But Percy just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd told me to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air. "Mom!" I ran towards Percy to try and hold him back. She caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!" Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around Mrs Jackson's neck, D/N ran to bite the Minotaur's arm but they both dissolved before our eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if they were a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and they was simply ... gone. Both Mrs Jackson and D/N... "No!" The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling him, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too. Percy stripped off his red rain jacket. "Hey!" I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!" "Percy what are you doing?!" He shot a glance at me, "Trust me?" "Yes?" "Bad choice." "Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turned toward us, shaking his meaty fists. "I hagve an idea—a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all." He pushed my back to the big pine tree and waved his red jacket in front of the bull-man, "I'm thinking we jump out of the way at the last moment." But it didn't happen like that. The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way we tried to dodge. Time slowed down. My legs tensed. I couldn't jump sideways, only thought running in my mind was Percy's safety. Taking his hand which seemed to surprise him, I leaped straight up carrying his weight lighter than I had thought, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck with Percy in front of me. How did I do that? I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out. The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake us. I locked my arms around Percy while he went for the horn, to keep us from being thrown. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned my nostrils. The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I was starting to realize that this thing had only one gear: forward. Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off. "Food!" Grover moaned. The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. Percy had hit my shoulder with his head and pulled at the horn. Easing up to a more comfortable position to hold on, I got both hands around one horn and we pulled backward with all our might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then—snap! The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock. When I sat up, my vision was blurry. Percy was on the other side, with the horn in his hand. The monster charged. Percy rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barreled past, he drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage. The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate—not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart. The monster was gone. The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief I'd just lost everyone. I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover and Percy, needing my help. "Percy..." He looked at me weakly and took my hand. "Let's get out of here..." His voice was hoarse. This is where I say goodbye... Don't leave. I need you most now. I am always with you. And you have successfully brought yourself to another world. We will talk once you leave camp. I'm scared. You have Percy Jackson. Hold onto him. And you shall meet another hero. Save Percy. Save Luke. Save all of them. And you won't ever be scared again. Looking down at our linked hand I nodded. Stay with him. Save them all. You've hidden well, but its time for you to show who you are. I will declare who your parent is. I hope they claim us. Okay. We managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the farmhouse. I was crying and so was Percy, calling for his mother, so I held on to him—I wasn't going to let him go. "I'll be here... I won't leave you..." Successfully reaching the top, I could see eyes on us. Percy had lost his consciousness. I was tasked to carry the weight of these two. Seeing two people approach us, I didn't have time to process who, I cried, "Help them. Please." Before collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's. They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "It's one of them. They must be." "Silence, Annabeth," the man said. "The girl's still conscious. Bring them inside." "Percy..."

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #Book 1 #Chapter 4 #Lightning thief

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mettlekettle · 4 years

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Sweet Creature-Harry Styles x fem!reader

Okay, here’s more of me projecting my fantasies onto Harry lmao. This is cottagecore husband!Harry and its literally just fluff, so enjoy it. This one is kind of edited but if there’s mistakes it’s totally my fault, I tend to skip over a lot of things because I have no one to read it over for me.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Description: Harry takes a break from music, y/n is very grateful, and Finnegan just wants to swim.

After Harry and y/n’s wedding, Harry wanted to spend as much time with his new wife as possible. y/n wanted that too, but she never expected him to go on hiatus as he did; he posted a short message on his social media stating that he was taking at least two years away from the public eye to spend time with his life partner and his family. He surprised y/n with a house in the French countryside soon after their honeymoon in Italy. Harry remembered that y/n had always wanted to live in a cottage, never liking the modernity of any of his mansions or other properties.

This new house was small, just two bedrooms, the extra for when a friend or family member wanted to visit. Their little cottage was placed on acres of land, their nearest neighbours being a few miles away. Harry wanted to make y/n feel like she was living in a fairy tale, so he kept a lot of the land in its natural form, filled with wildflowers, trees and tall grass. Some areas were prepared to grow food; the couple grew many different fruits and vegetables. They even got some animals, including an orange cat named Cinnamon, a sheepdog named Finnegan (they called him Finn for short), a few cows, pigs and sheep. They enjoyed the work the land brought them and even added more things to their land as time went on. A pond filled with lily pads, that y/n asked Harry to have installed when she noticed some frogs in the trees, and a stone pathway that led through their property and into the woods; at the end of the path, in the woods was a circle of stone, that had a bench that the couple liked to relax on in their free time. They fell into a routine that to many people would be boring, but to them it was their lives, that they wouldn’t trade for anything.

It was around ten in the morning when Harry woke up. He looked over at his love, asleep under the white comforter. Her hair was a mess over her face and the strap of her silk nightgown fell down her shoulder. He thought y/n looked so beautiful with the morning light hitting her face, Harry actually thought she looked beautiful all the time but especially when her face was relaxed like this, which happened a lot recently. He was so happy that he could make her dream come true like this, no matter how much she told him he didn’t need to. He ran the back of his hand over her cheekbone, admiring her soft skin. Suddenly Cinnamon jumped up on the bed, his tail high in the air as he moved towards Harry, when the small cat got close to Harry he let out a soft meow. This let Harry know it was time to get up and feed his family.

“Wake up dove,” he murmured, tucking his face into her neck. He knew the hair on his face would wake her up. y/n loved his new moustache, and she loved the way it felt on her skin. y/n shifted and he tried again, rubbing his face on her again.

“C’mon angel, we’ve got to feed the animals,” he spoke softly. Her eyes blinked open, squinting at the light. When y/n took in her surroundings a smile appeared on her face, she looked up at Harry before croaking out in her morning voice,

“Thought this was a dream,” y/n can’t believe she gets to be woken up by the love of her life in her dream home, it was like she lived in a fantasy. Harry chuckled before throwing the covers off them both and getting up. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, and she let out a small whine, at the chill of their home.

“Let’s go Cinnamon! You too Finn, it's breakfast time!” He cheered at the small orange cat and the dog sitting on the floor beside their bed. As Harry left the room y/n sat up and looked around, she pulled on the blue knit cardigan that was sitting on a chair in their room and padded into the kitchen. She cringed at the cold tiles, turning back into their bedroom to put on a pair of fuzzy socks. When she came back Harry was cutting fruit for their breakfast.

“Nectarine?” he asked. y/n nodded softly before going to start the coffee. She pulled down a mug for Harry and a mason jar for herself. She grabbed the oat-milk from the fridge and began to make herself an iced coffee. She made Harry’s after as it was just black coffee. She loved her husband, but he had horrible taste in drinks, taking his coffee without any milk or sugar. y/n placed the drinks at their small kitchen table before ambling her way back over to Harry sleepily and wrapping her arms around his bare waist from behind. She pressed soft kisses to his spine causing him to shiver. Her hands smoothed over the soft skin of his back, curling around his shoulders to massage him gently. Harry let out a satisfied groan. He finished cutting up the fruit for their breakfast and placing it into two bowls. Harry walked towards the table with y/n still attached to him. He sat down pulling her into his lap. They ate quietly, the pair never felt like they needed to fill the silence, completely content listening to the birds chirp, and Cinnamon and Finn eating their breakfast as well. y/n had a fruit salad with strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, half an apple and a nectarine from their garden. Harry had the same thing, taking the other half of the apple, but he also included Greek yogurt and granola in his. She sipped her drink, looking at her husband, admiring his tattooed chest and arms, he didn’t notice, too busy eating his breakfast.

y/n stood up when she finished eating and kissed his forehead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Goose,” y/n praised before heading back into their bedroom to get ready for the day. She picked out a burnt orange dress that buttoned up at the center. y/n quickly brushed her hair and clipped back pieces she didn’t want in her face, she then made her way to the bathroom. She didn’t put on any makeup, but began her elaborate skincare routine. Harry made his way into the bathroom as well, now dressed in a brown striped sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. They brushed their teeth side by side while Harry made faces at her in the mirror to make y/n giggle. They went to the front door and slid on their shoes, ready to tend to the land.

“I’ll do the pigs,” Harry said before sliding out of the house. She watched him make his way to the barn, then she too began her day. y/n was tasked with letting out the cows and sheep, with the help of Finnegan, of course. She followed the hairy dog to the barn they kept the cows and sheep in at night to keep them warm. y/n opened the door before smiling.

“Hi ladies!” she spoke to the cows, “ready for the day?” She asked, and although she didn’t receive an answer that didn’t bother her. The fluffy cows ignored the overly cheery girl and made their way outside. They filed out to the pasture where they began to graze on grass. She then moved onto the sheep, letting them out as well. She checked on all the animals and made sure they were content before walking the stone path back to the house where Harry was waiting for her. He had a bit of mud on his face that she giggled at as she drew near. y/n took her thumb and wiped at his cheek.

“Can never keep the mess in the pig pen, huh?” she teased. Harry flushed and smiled cheekily.

“Can’t blame me pet, they’re practically begging me to get in with them,” he mocked moving in to press a kiss to her lips. “What ‘ave we to do today?” he asked. y/n hummed looking around. She took a notebook out of the pocket of her dress, opening it and letting her eyes scan the list.

“We have to pick all the fallen apples, wanna to make an apple pie before your mum comes to visit.” She continued to prattle off things that need to be done around their home. They both agreed to do a few different things before going their separate ways.

They reconvened at two in the afternoon to have a lunch of croissants, raspberry jam and blueberry lemonade on the deck. They threw treats in the air and laughed as Finnegan caught them in his mouth. Cinnamon curled up on Harry’s lap and purred loudly. Afterwards y/n got up to hang their laundry on the clothesline outside. Harry continued to lounge about causing y/n to roll her eyes, she picked up a white dress and began to clip it.

“Hey rockstar, you could help me out y’know,” she suggested. Harry chuckled lowly, looking her up and down. He took in the way she looked, he loved watching her hips and the way she moved.

“I could, but m’really enjoying the view from here,” he replied, “v’got a really beautiful wife.” she giggled at his flirting before bending down to pick up a clothing pin, strategically facing her backside towards him.

“Don’t tease bunny, you’ll drive me wild,” he spoke again.

“Too bad we don’t have time for that, we have to start dinner soon.” she sighed. y/n brought the laundry basket back inside with Harry following close behind. She nearly tripped stepping into their home but Harry quickly grabbed her hips to steady her, he looked down at her lips as she stared into his eyes. y/n swiftly broke the trance, walking away from Harry before he had the chance to kiss her.

“M’being cock blocked by my own wife,” He groaned dramatically. y/n ignored him, stepping into the kitchen.

“Can you wash the vegetables for dinner?” She inquired. Harry hummed, nodding. y/n and Harry began to work on dinner, they added carrots, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, rutabaga, some different herbs and water to a pot before leaving it to simmer.

In the meantime they decided to have a bath to wash off the dirt from their day outside. As y/n got the bath started, Harry went around lighting candles and an incense stick to set the mood. She made sure the water was hot enough before adding some bath salts. They settled in the bath facing each other. Harry began to wash y/n’s hair, massaging her scalp. She thanked him when he was done and began on his hair. While she cleaned his scalp she pressed a few soft kisses to his nose and cheeks causing him to blush.

“Thanks baby, love you, s’much” he mumbled. She didn’t respond, only finishing on his hair and moving close to kiss his lips. He moved his hands to her waist, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She carded one hand through his newly washed curls while the other rested on his jaw. Just as y/n moved into Harry’s lap they heard a splash. Finnegan had decided that he wanted to join their bath time and was now beside them covered in bubbles. The silly old dog loved water for some reason, Harry often had to pull him out of the pond. y/n laughed loudly as Harry groaned,

“S’not funny y/n, who d’ya think has to clean up this mess now?” he complained. y/n continued her giggles before stepping out of the tub.

“I think you do. I’m gonna go check on the soup while you and Finn finish your bath,” she chortled, “bye Goose! Bye Finnie!”

When Harry emerged from the bathroom y/n was standing at the kitchen counter stirring their soup. She was now dressed in black shorts, a blue tank top and a white cardigan that the couple often shared.

“Come taste this and tell me what it needs!” She called to him. She held a spoon with her hand below it, blowing softly as he neared. y/n held it up to his mouth, continuing to use her hand to stop any broth from falling on the tile. He hummed, looking into the pot.

“Basil? Maybe? I dunno doll you’re the chef in this relationship,” he advised.

“Wow, thanks for the help,” she mocked, “would you go cut the bread then, soup’s almost ready.” Harry obeyed, cutting them a few pieces of homemade sourdough, placing them in a wooden bowl before putting it on the table. He also made his way to the cellar to find a bottle of wine, he knew y/n would appreciate something sweet, after all his wife was quite the sugar fiend.When Harry arrived back on the main floor he poured them both a glass of wine and went to the bathroom. y/n soon placed two bowls of steaming soup on the table, taking a seat and waiting for Harry to return from washing his hands to dig in.

After dinner they sit in the living room, a Fleetwood Mac record softly playing in the background. y/n was reading a book on herbs and Harry was playing around on the piano, tinkering with song ideas. Despite being on hiatus, his love for music and overactive mind never stops. He still carries a worn brown notebook with him wherever he went and was constantly writing things that popped into his brain. When the album stops. y/n sits up slightly, disrupting Cinnamon’s sleep causing him to meow and jump off the couch.

“Harry?” she calls bashfully.

“Yes darling?” he responds, not looking at her. Her face warms at the prospect of what she’s going to ask him.

“Would you sing a song for me? Sweet Creature?” y/n wondered. He nodded, picking the guitar off the stand next to the piano. As he began the song y/n admired him, she was so lucky to have him, her boy, her sweet creature. She couldn’t imagine a life without him, he was everything to her, and she couldn’t believe that she was everything to him too. y/n often asked Harry to sing for her. She was blessed enough to hear him sing whenever she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take advantage of it. When he finished the song y/n claps and cheers for him.

“Always so good baby,” She cheered clambering up into his lap as he put the guitar down. Pressing firm kisses to his brow. Harry smiled and a light blush dusted his face. No matter how long they’d been together y/n had the same effect on him. She made him feel like a teenager with a crush all over again. y/n kissed his lips, pressing softly, they’d barely had a break to do this today, but she felt that it made the times they did get to kiss even better. Harry began to kiss back but y/n broke the kiss, her lips travelling to his cheek, and then his jaw. She rubbed the tip of her nose along the mole near his mouth before kissing it too. She moved down his neck when Harry began to yawn. y/n broke off, rubbing his jaw with her thumb.

“Tired, hmm?” she questioned. Harry’s eyes widened before protesting,

“No, no, please continue Dove.” she smiled at him.

“We have enough time Harry, we don’t need to rush. Lets go to bed and we can do this tomorrow,” she reassured him. He wasn’t quite used to having enough time in the week to do everything he wanted to do. They were so used to rushing before Harry had to jet off to another concert, photoshoot, or interview.

He sighed contentedly and nodded. y/n stood up walking to the bathroom to do her nightly skin routine. As she washed her face she could hear the water in the kitchen running meaning Harry was going to water their house plants. She paused her routine to help him. They had quite a lot, succulents in the kitchen where most of the natural light was, and other assortments of plants, a few ferns, and the areas that didn’t receive as much sunlight was littered with devils ivy. It took them about fifteen minutes to water all their plants. They wound up back in the bathroom, y/n finishing her skincare routine and Harry following along with his own half assed version. She never understood how her husband took so little care of his skin and still looked perfect. They brushed their teeth side by side again, the two of them too tired to try and make the other crack up. y/n changed into another silk nightgown before crawling into bed. Harry took off his shirt and pants and joined her. He pulled his wife into his chest, kissing her forehead a few times before closing his eyes. Harry was almost asleep when y/n’s voice woke him,

“Are you bored of this?” he hummed in confusion. “I mean, you’re just used to such a fast paced life and I remember once you said you don’t like to stay in the same place for too long because you get antsy. If you want to move back to London, I understand,” she spoke softly. Harry opened his eyes now, he can’t believe the love of his life doesn’t think he wants to be there. He turned her over so she was facing him. Harry could see the insecurity in her eyes; she didn’t think this was enough for him, she didn’t think she was enough for him. He cupped her cheek in his large hand, and admired how she leaned into his warmth.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything baby. I love being here with you, and I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around, you’re my everything,” he spoke lovingly. Tears began to form in her eyes, quickly wiped away by him.

“I love you too,” she whispered quietly, “m’sorry I still get so insecure, you shouldn’t have to reassure me so much.” Harry shook his head.

“S’okay doll, we're working on it, yeah? Just don’t keep it from okay?” he affirmed. Despite this new routine being nothing like his old way of living, he could do it forever, as long as his sweet creature was by his side.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #harry styles x y/n

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oloreaa · 4 years

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Vencuyanir Ch. 5 - The Razor Crest

vencuyanir [ven-COO-yah-neer]: sustain, keep alive, preserve

Summary: After Bean’s display of power, Elana waits for him to wake up… and it is not easy with the stubborn Mandalorian

Words: 5.7k

Notes: Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter! I hope you will enjoy reading this one as well!! One of my fav moments of Ven is in here :)

Warnings: references to canon-typical violence, distress for child, discussion of loss/grief

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……………

"Is he still sleeping?" Elana could hear someone say, mind fuzzy and the world spinning around her as the darkness finally receded from her mind.

"Yes," another one answered, his voice familiar.

"Was he injured?"

"I don't think so." A tall figure, rifle slung across his back. "Not physically." Something reflecting off him, rust red armour and silver pauldron.

"Explain it to me again. I still don't understand what happened." Kuiil. Kuiil the Ugnaught. The farmer on Arvala-7.

"Neither do I." Silver beskar helmet, black T-visor, the Mandalorian.

Elana opened her eyes wider, beyond the slits that had just made out the rough shapes of the two men. The setting sun was directly facing them, and she sat up with a groan, squinting at the sky. What happened? Slowly, her senses came back to her, the rushing in her ears became quieter and the scent of machine oil and rock dust filled her nose. Her mouth was as dry as the desert.

"Ah, you're awake," the voice of Kuiil greeted her. He was sitting on top of his blurrg, swaying in the seat with every step the steed took.

"What-?" Elana rasped out, feeling as if her chest was caving in, "Bean?"

"He's here," the Mandalorian said quietly, and her head whipped around to the voice right next to her, his voice instantly making her tense. He was sitting, a pile of his ship parts behind him, and the pram floated next to the sled they were on. She scrambled over to it, not caring as her side brushed his knees, reached into the pod and took her baby out. Bean was a small, lifeless bundle in her arms, the bond between them empty, echoing when she tried to reach him, a stark contrast to the vivid and warm tendrils that had connected them before that swell of force had overwhelmed her.

"What happened to him?" Elana asked the Mandalorian, voice shaking as her fingers traced over Bean's little face. He was still breathing, thank the Stars, snoring peacefully, but she could feel nothing from him. Not the slightest emotion, no indication that they were even bonded at all. It was not as if the bond had snapped, more that it just flickered out of existence.

Elana snapped her face up to the beskar helmet, "What happened to him?" She did not recognize her own voice, guttural and venomous as she threw the accusation into his face, body trembling under the fury that rushed through her.

"Nothing," he said, voice rough.

"I don't believe you," she spat, "I told you that he should have stayed! What were you thinking, taking him to get a Mudhorn egg? He could have died!"

"I protected him," the Mandalorian defended himself, aggression pouring off him in waves, "I did my best."

"Your best is not enough if my baby had to stop a charging Mudhorn for you!" Elana shrieked, and pushed his pauldron roughly, uncaring about the repercussions, white hot anger overtaking every rational thought.

The Mandalorian grunted as if in pain, and Elana stopped, feeling cold. Suddenly she saw how banged up he looked, completely covered in mud splatters, his armour dented and broken into pieces, his chest plate looking as if it needed a complete replacement. His dirty T-visor was staring her down accusingly. Before Elana's eye, the memory of what Bean saw flickered to life, how the Mudhorn had rammed the Mandalorian, sent him flying through the air. Her mind raced at hyperspeed as she stared at him.

A part in Elana wanted to apologise, for her shove, which probably caused some amount of pain or added to existing injuries, and her words because it was obvious that he had at least tried to keep Bean safe. The pram was free from mud, free from damage, and if it were not for the missing bond, she would have thought that Bean was simply catching up on his midday nap. The difference between them could not have been bigger, and it only highlighted the effort the Mandalorian had taken to make sure Bean was safe. But still, the baby had used whatever that power in him was to help slay the Mudhorn. Elana had always known that Bean was special. Not only the bond between them, but also the way he would always land lightly, always know whom to trust, could always react a second faster than expected. She had always been able to do some of the things he was able to do as well, to an extent, but she was nowhere near as strong as her little baby was.

"Explain two things to me," the Mandalorian said, voice leaving no room for arguments, "One, how was he," he pointed to the pram, "able to stop that charging Mudhorn for me?" The bounty hunter threw her words back at her, mud-speckled visor trained directly on her. Elana opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off, "And two, how do you know about it?"

They stared at each other, and for one moment, she did not know what to say. The truth? Some version of it? Straight up lying? Her eyes flickered between Bean, the ground, the Mandalorian, the rocks around them, the shiny parts of the ship, while she opened and closed her mouth several times, unsure what to say. Taking a deep breath when the Mandalorian sighed impatiently, she started to talk in a hesitant manner.

"I don't know why he can do that," she confessed, blinking fast as she furrowed her brows, deep in thought as she tried to find a way to explain the uniqueness of Bean, "I don't know if he was born with it, if it is something that is specific to his species, or he learned it somehow." The blurrg gave a low growl in response to something on the road, and she used this small break to sort out her thoughts. "Sometimes he can lift things, and sometimes he can't, even if he tries. And I think this is why your client wants Bean," she whispered, "they want him for what he can do." It was quiet between them, the words hanging in the air.

"Answer my second question," the Mandalorian ordered, tilting his helmet in a threatening manner. She felt her chest hollow with fear, but raised her chin with defiance despite her trembling bottom lip, and glared at him. "We are connected in our minds," was what she settled on, "What he feels, I feel as well."

"That's impossible," the bounty hunter scoffed, turning his head towards Kuiil as if to gather a second opinion. Kuiil harrumphed, face set into a frown when he looked over his shoulder.

"I have heard of stories like these," the Ugnaught said haltingly. "Stories in which great warriors have bonded within their minds to become more efficient in battle." Kuiil caught her gaze, and nodded gravely. "Even if I have not heard of a child and its caretaker being bound in this manner, I would not dismiss her claims. It could very well be."

The Mandalorian's helmet was turned towards them, and she tightened her hold on Bean. His visor was trained on them, and Elana looked away, clenching her jaw, thumb tracing over the baby's cheek. The blurrg moved slowly and steadily, and they made rest after it had long become dark. Not a word was said as the Ugnaught and her shared a meal while the Mandalorian sat behind the large pile of parts for the Razor Crest, eating on his own. When they went to sleep that night, Elana could not get the strange feeling out of her chest, the memory of what Bean had done echoing in her mind, the way she had felt it through her body.

The next day passed, and other than a few words between Kuiil and the Mandalorian, nothing was said. Elana spent the entire time either holding Bean, watching the landscape lost in her thoughts, or glaring at the Mandalorian. It was one of the most uncomfortable days she had ever had the displeasure to witness, and she was still absolutely fuming. Elana stewed in silence, laying out argument after argument with which she could verbally destroy the bounty hunter. More and more complex wording and phrasing started to pop up in her mind, and with a distinct sense of vindication she slowly felt like she could rip him a new one successfully.

Not that she actually voiced them out loud.

Elana still wanted to live, thank you very much.

The threat of him becoming violent again made her bite her tongue, swallow the accusations down, because Bean would not be safe if she got gunned down. Elana had to stay alive for Bean, she had to make sure that he had someone that cared about him, someone who gives him the love he deserved. She had not let go of Bean the entire time they traveled, unwilling to put him into his pram even as he got heavy, just wanting to feel him against her, breathing steadily, even if the bond between them was nothing but an empty echo.

When they set out on the next day, Kuiil tried to strike up conversation, clearly as done with the uncomfortable silence as she was. It continued the entire day long, small talk occasionally breaking up the tension in the air that could be cut with a knife, and Elana was honestly glad when they arrived at the mess the Jawas had left behind. She stared at the Mandalorian's gutted ship as they slowly neared, the blurrg swaying steadily. As soon as they stopped in front of it, the Mandalorian and Kuiil jumped off the sled and started to inspect the state that the ship was in.

"There is no way we're gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility," the Mandalorian stated, staring up at his ship, shoulders slumped.

Elana refused to feel bad about the defeated tone in his voice, knowing that as soon as the ship was repaired, they would head off to Nevarro. Kuiil lifted a tool bag out of the sled, and started to heave it towards the ship.

"This is gonna take days to fix," the Mandalorian sighed, looking around.

"If you care to help, it might go faster," Kuiil said, and set the bag down, handing a part to the Mandalorian, "There is much work to do." The Mandalorian just sighed again, and took the offered part. Then, he walked over to the Razor Crest, and started to fiddle with something on the landing gear. Kuiil nodded approvingly, before looking at her.

"What about Elana?" Kuiil asked loudly, and the Mandalorian looked over his shoulder.

"She looks after the quarry," was his response, "He should be waking up soon."

Elana stared hard at him, both for his assumption that she could not help, that she was only good for keeping an eye on Bean, and for the condescending tone he had used. Blowing out air in annoyance, she folded her legs, sat up straight, and simply watched them start work on the ship. Bean made a soft noise, and Elana looked at him, but the hope rising in her chest was quickly crushed when there was still not a single nudge over the bond. She sighed heavily, heart feeling like it was breaking into two. This just keeps getting worse.

After an hour of them working, Kuiil looked up at the sky and announced: "It is late, we will need to get sleep if we are to continue this."

The Mandalorian made a noise in protest. "We have good momentum right now," he said, stalking around the corner where he had been repairing a part of the ramp.

"We will continue tomorrow," Kuiil said decidedly, and set down his tools, walking over to the sledge, "I will take the blurrg and head to my farm. The sledge can stay here. I have spoken."

Elana watched as the Ugnaught pressed a few buttons, and the sledge disengaged with a hiss. "I shall return. Good night."

"Good night," the Mandalorian sighed.

Elana simply nodded at him, and Kuiil gave a small smile that was probably meant to be encouraging. Patting the side of the blurrg with his foot several times, the creature turned with a loud huff, and started to waddle off in the direction of Kuiil's farm.

"Has he woken up?" The Mandalorian asked when the Ugnaught was some distance away. Elana tensed, a breath escaping her as fear coursed through her veins, and she forced herself to look at the bounty hunter, unwilling to show weakness.

"No," she answered, barely stopping herself from glaring at him, "I don't know when he will."

He said nothing, but his shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly. The only reason Elana noticed it was because she was looking at them to avoid looking into his face.

"Have you eaten?" Elana asked, and cursed herself in the same moment, the question slipping out almost without her noticing. He was quiet, just looking at her.

"No," he said after a short while. Elana frowned, and tugged her rucksack close.

"Here," she said, pulling two ration bars out, and tossing them to him, "I don't think you've eaten since before yesterday."

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet at her. "I didn't think you noticed," he said, and his voice held a tone she could not place. Was it mocking? Defensive? Or something different?

She resisted the urge to scoff at him, and explained instead: "You don't eat regularly. When you're in company, you don't eat, that's not healthy." He said nothing, and Elana felt herself become indignant, some part in her unable to comprehend why a grown man would just forgo food, especially a bounty hunter like him. "Is it normal that you simply don't eat? What species are you, can you store food over long periods?"

He did not answer, but his fingers curled around the ration packets.

"And all that Jawa business, I don't think you ate then either? I'm sorry if I'm overstepping but that doesn't seem healthy."

"I had some stims before I went to get the egg," he muttered.

Elana raised an eyebrow, staring at him. "You mean to tell me that you went to fight a Mudhorn with no food, no water, only some stims?"

"I had water," he corrected.

"That does not improve your situation," Elana said, crossing her arms, "Do you have a death wish or are you just acting like it?"

He tilted his helmet at her, and the amount of annoyance he could convey without saying a single word was astonishing.

"You know, running on stims is not--"

"Are you the baby's caretaker or mine?" The Mandalorian asked dryly.

Elana glared at him. "Seems like I have to, if you're stupid enough to fight a Mudhorn on stims."

"Cut the sass," The Mandalorian growled, stepping closer, towering above her.

"Make me," she snarled without thinking, scooting back until her back hit the spare parts on the sledge, curling a protective arm around the sleeping Bean.

He seemed to realise that he was too close, and backed off without a word, hand clenched around the ration bars. Elana got out the water bottle, and set it on the edge of the sledge by reaching forwards, and leaned back as soon as the metal bottle was standing safely. The Mandalorian gave her a nod, and she glared at him in response, feeling the fear of him starting to take over again.

"Thank you," he said, before turning around, disappearing behind the Razor Crest.

Elana scrunched her nose at him, took out a ration for herself and bit into it viciously while cursing the Mandalorian in her mind. Cursing him for being an asshole. Cursing him for being their captor. Cursing him because she could do nothing but curse and hope for some kind of escape. Cursing him because Bean would not wake up.

When he finally came back, he handed her a noticeably lighter water bottle, but she did not comment. Without looking at the Mandalorian, she took out a clean shirt of hers, carefully poured water on it, and opened Bean's mouth. She made him suck on the fabric so he could at least get some moisture without the risk of choking on the water. Repeating the process a few times, the little one instinctively drinking, she sighed in relief when Bean smiled in his sleep, and cuddled closer to her, ignoring the Mandalorian who watched her. He is all right, she told herself, and put a kiss onto the baby's forehead.

"Can you move the pram?" Elana requested after gathering the courage to open her mouth, and the Mandalorian gave a start.

"Of course," he rasped out, and manoeuvred the pod right next to her. She put Bean into it carefully, and tucked the blankets into his side, keeping him warm. Then, closing the pram with a press of the button, she sighed. Taking the water bottle, Elana drank the rest of the water herself, grimacing at how there was not enough left for how dry her throat felt.

Turning the moisture bead on, she slumped into herself, feeling the days catching up on her. She was unbelievably tired. "Were the Jawas happy? When you gave them the egg?" Elana asked, thoughts far away, eyes on the stars above them.

The Mandalorian gave something that could have been an amused huff. "Yeah," he said, "Yelled a lot again."

"Suga," Elana quoted quietly, shaking her head, somehow missing the little robed creatures. They have been strange, but kind in the end, careful with their treatment of them.

"Suga," the Mandalorian agreed, derision in his voice, "If I never have to deal with them again it would be too soon." Elana suppressed a snort and blamed it on how tired she was instead of the sarcastic note in his voice. "Good night," she told him after a while in silence, and turned around, back facing him. He said nothing for a long time, but she heard him perfectly when he said "Night" back, voice crackling through the vocoder.

When Elana awoke the next day, the Ugnaught was just arriving, jumping down from his blurrg mount, the creature giving a low purr.

"Good morning," Kuiil said, patting the bag he had on his side, "I brought breakfast."

Elana sat up, rubbing her hands over her face, and yawned. "Thank you," she told Kuiil, smiling through another yawn. The Mandalorian was already up and fiddling with his broken chestplate. Elana stared at the wiring that was visible, and marvelled at how intricately it was built into the armour. It was exquisite craftsmanship even without the technical gadgets surrounding it, and she suddenly understood how he was able to regulate his temperature on a desert planet without difficulties.

She was envious of it and was not even able to deny it. Elana brought herself into an upright position, walking on her knees to the pram, and checking on Bean. Her heart sank. He was still sleeping, nothing changed. Bean must not even have moved much during the night. Kuiil set down his bag and pulled out three mugs and plates, as well as a big thermos, packets of instant bread and a few cacti fruits.

"We can eat here while you can eat on the ship," Kuiil told the Mandalorian, who nodded at him.

"Thanks. It's very kind of you," he said, taking the portion from him and waiting for Kuiil to unscrew the thermos, who then poured a generous amount of caf into the mug, and left for the ship. The Ugnaught settled down on the sledge as well, and poured the rest of the caf into their respective mugs.

Starting to nibble at one of the cacti fruits, Elana propped a knee up, resting her arm on it. "I'm hoping we're not eating all of your food," she said to Kuiil, "I would hate to be a burden to you."

"You are my guests, and I am therefore in your service," Kuiil responded, "I can assure you, you are not a burden."

"Why are you helping the Mandalorian?" Elana asked after hesitating for a while,

The Ugnaught sighed. "There is no peace on Arvala-7. There are always bounty hunters arriving, without fail, all seeking the same bounty."

Elana frowned, looking at him in a mixture of sympathy and confusion.

"This little child has caught the eye of some high-up Imperial, if I had to guess," Elana felt her blood run cold at the confirmation of her fears, "And they will not stop until they get what they want."

Imperials.

It was not the first time that her mind had wandered since they had left the encampment. She had been thinking about every one who could want them, who could have enough money to keep the bounty hunters coming. It could have been some crazy collector, it could have been Bean's parents, it could have also been fanatic remnants of the Empire who wanted the child for his powers. Kuiil just confirmed what she had feared the most, and Elana was struggling to comprehend it.

"I want my valley to know peace," Kuiil said, looking imploringly at her, brows furrowed, "And peace will only come when the bounty hunters stop."

Elana looked at Bean, who was snoring peacefully. "And you are willing to have peace in exchange of an innocent child?" Elana asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I did not say that," he sighed, "But it is not in my hands anyways. The Mandalorian has claimed him as his bounty, and it is in his hands now."

"You could help us," she whispered, looking him straight in his eyes, desperate, "you could help us escape."

Kuiil shook his head. "Even if I wanted to, and I do, I cannot. My farm would be the first place the Mandalorian would look for you, and the end result would be the same."

"So you're just letting him take us away?" Elana hissed, feeling anger rise in her, "You would sacrifice Bean for the sake of your valley?"

He looked at her evenly, an unspoken grief lingering behind his eyes that made her pause. "Where are you from, Elana?" Kuill suddenly asked.

"Alderaan," she answered, "What does that have to do with anything?"

The Ugnaught hummed. "If a choice had to be made, between Alderaan or your princess, which one would you have chosen?"

Elana reared back, mouth dropping open. "This is nothing close to it," she pressed out between gritted teeth, eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Is it not? A place to keep safe and a person to sacrifice. Would you have sacrificed your princess if it meant that Alderaan would have survived?"

"That is a vile thing to ask, Kuiil." Eyes blinking fast, she refused to let the tears collect, refused to let him see how he had struck a nerve.

"I'm just hoping that you can understand my point. Both options are wretched, but if it was between a valley I protect and a child I do not know--"

She jumped up, furious, "Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Elana yelled, burning up in rage, "You don't get to make that decision!" Kuiil looked at her, wise eyes that saw straight into her soul stripping every layer she had away.

"Listen here, Ugnaught," she snarled, "I will do anything to protect Bean, I don't care if this entire planet burns! He deserves to grow up, not being experimented on by Imperials for the rest of his life!"

"If you would condemn an entire planet to burn, you would give up many that are just like him," Kuiil pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Chest heaving, she stared at him, jaw clenched together. "Thank you for the breakfast," she said as calmly as she could, "I'll leave now." Scooping Bean up in her arms, she started to stalk away.

"Where do you think you are going?" The Mandalorian asked, standing on the ramp of his ship.

"I'm going to get some air," Elana snapped, "Don't worry, you'll be able to find us."

"You're staying here," he commanded, annoyance in his voice

"I don't care," she spat, glaring at him. With those words, she walked further to stew in silence, knowing fully that the reaction she had was childish. But she thought they could cut her some slack, and if they would not?

She would make them.

Clutching Bean close to her, she dropped down on a comfortable rock, with some overhead shelter should she choose to stay away for a longer time, and far away so she would not have to put up with them.

Leaning against the rocky wall, knees bent slightly and Bean snoring on her lap, she did her best to breathe deeply, trying to calm down. "Bean, honey, now would be a good time to wake up, don't you think?" Elana whispered to him, fighting back her tears, "It would be perfect if you would wake up this moment." Bean just let out a rattling snore, making her laugh slightly, burying her face into his belly as her shoulders shook.

"I guess that's fine as well," she huffed, smile watery, "but could you wake up? Please? I worry about you." Letting her fingers trace over his face carefully, over his brows, the wrinkles on his head, the closed eyelids, his cheeks, she sighed. "Why is the bond broken, sweetpea?" Elana asked as if he would answer, staring hard at his little features, "Why can't I feel you now?" There was no response, no answer, not through him stirring or a flicker across the bond.

Elana pulled him close, and closed her eyes, resting her cheek on the top of his head, feeling his weight and warmth on her body, and she tried to let herself be soothed by it. "I miss you, Bean," she whispered, "Please wake up soon. I love you, okay?"

After about half an hour later, the Mandalorian appeared, the water bottle in his hand. "Here," he said, and threw it on the sand next to her feet, along with the shirt she had used yesterday, but tossed that in her lap.

She stared up at him, frowning. "Thanks?" Elana asked, squinting at him, the sun at his back and in her eyes.

"You can stay in the shade if you want to," he offered, gesturing to her.

"Thank you," she said, secretly grateful that he did not expect or want her to help with the repairs in the midday sun. Not that she was the most experienced at it anyways.

"Does the baby need anything else?"

Elana shook her head, "He only needs to wake up."

The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment. "Do you know when he will wake up?"

It did not slip by her how he had deliberately used the word when instead of if, for which Elana was thankful. It was a consideration she did not think he would give her.

"I don't know," she confessed, looking away, and then to Bean, "I hope soon."

After a nod at her, the Mandalorian walked back to the Razor Crest, where Kuiil was currently soldering something. Scowling at the sight of the Ugnaught, she watched the Mandalorian go, the beskar pauldron and his helmet glinting in the sunlight. Sighing to herself, she drank some water, and gave Bean a bit as well. Were her eyes deceiving her or did Bean drink more water today? Was he dehydrated or was he starting to wake up? But despite her hopes, he did not open his beautiful dark eyes that day.

Or the day after.

On the fifth day after the Mudhorn incident, Elana was starting to go crazy. She had managed not to burst into tears in front of Kuiil and the Mandalorian, but they could probably still tell when she had cried, or tried to hide it. She was grateful for them not mentioning a word when she started to help with the rebuilding of the Mandalorian's ship, despite being below average at it. If Bean had been awake, she probably would not have helped at all, trying to prolong the time between them leaving Arvala-7 and getting to the suspected Imperial client. But doing nothing was driving her mad. Completely, utterly mad with worry over the small baby, and the only times when that worry was lifted from her shoulders was when she was neck deep into wiring and parts and tools.

They did not comment, and she gritted her teeth, checking on Bean every hour, getting more jittery the longer he stayed asleep.

When she woke with puffy red eyes, the only thing the Mandalorian would do was hand her the water bottle along with a ration pack, T-visor turned away from her in a resemblance of privacy. Kuiil had let them use his sonic washing machine as well, so the days were actually the most bearable since the encampment, with clean clothes, regular food and water breaks, and enough time to sleep.

But they were still hell for Elana.

When finally, after almost seven days of silence over the bond, something flickered across it, Elana dropped the part she was holding without preamble, and rushed to the pram, kneeling in front of it.

Bean was starting to stir.

Bean was starting to stir!

He started to frown, flailing his limbs around, fingers flexing, nose twitching. Elana did not think, just got him out of the pram, and sat down on her heels. She put him on her lap, and waited with bated breath. The green child started to whine lowly, scrunching his eyes shut even more before slowly blinking up at her. She laughed, smile watery and eyes misty. "Bean!" Elana gasped, pulling him close to her, squishing him in her arms, "You're awake!"

"Mwa," he told her, voice a bit raspy, and raised his little claws to her face. Crying in joy, she pressed their foreheads against each other, relishing in the way the bond suddenly opened wide. It was as if a tidal wave of power rushed over her, the beautiful, familiar and dearly missed sensation of their minds connecting with each other. Knowing exactly what he felt right now, his own relief mingled with hers.

"Oh, Bean," she told him, voice thick, "oh, sweetpea, honey, the best baby in the whole galaxy--" Elana showered him with kisses while he giggled under the onslaught, and she felt as if the entire weight of the world was dropped off her shoulders at once. Repeating his name as if it were a prayer, she pressed their foreheads together again, his little hands patting at where her face was wet from her tears.

"Mwa," he cooed, giggling brightly when she playfully scrunched her nose at him, ears pointing high. He turned his head towards something behind her, and made a loud happy noise, his face lighting up with a bright smile. Elana followed his gaze and saw the Mandalorian standing there, watching them.

"He's awake!" Elana beamed at the bounty hunter, too relieved to care about her dislike and fear of the man.

He tilted his helmet slightly. "I can see that," he said, and he sounded like he was smiling. Bean cooed loudly, clearly excited to see the Mandalorian, wriggled in her hold and tried to get to him. Elana released the baby from her grip, and watched as the bundle of brown robes made his way to the Mandalorian, trilling at him in exhilaration. It was hilarious to see the big bounty hunter stumbling back from the little bean on the ground, trying to avoid the overeager baby.

Searching the bond, Elana realised why Bean was so excited. "He is happy to see you. He was not sure if he had saved you in time," she spoke, looking at the Mandalorian, "He thought the Mudhorn got you."

Deftly avoiding Bean trying to grab his boot, the Mandalorian stared at her. "He's happy to see me?" He sounded dumbfounded, T-visor whipping down to where Bean had succeeded in catching his shoe, and cooed up at him.

"Obviously," Elana said, unable to make her voice dry in the light of Bean's happiness. The Mandalorian sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as the baby tightened his hold on his leg even more, completely enamoured with the man.

Kuiil appeared, pulling his goggles off and setting them on top of his head. "I'm glad the child awoke," he said, smiling at the overexcited Bean.

Bean's tummy made a loud grumble at that moment, and he turned his head, frowning up at her, patting the offending area while whining. Elana could not help her laugh at his face. The Mandalorian sighed again, and she knelt next to him, carefully prying Bean away. She placed him on her hip, and Elana beamed at being able to do the familiar motion again. "We'll get you something to eat, sweetpea, don't you worry," she told him, and made her way past the Mandalorian and the Ugnaught, towards the makeshift table with ration bars and jerky on it.

As soon as she had a packet in her hand, Bean reached out, took it, and bit into it with the packaging still on. Whining again, looking up at her with big watery eyes and a pout on his lips, he patted his tummy once more. She quickly removed the packaging and watched as he tucked in, eating the whole bar in two bites.

"Do you want more?" Elana asked, and when he reached out to the pile again, she set him on the ground carefully before getting another bar, opening it for him. In the end it took three ration bars and a jerky strip before the baby gave a satisfied burp, and after some gulps of water, he waddled to her, buried his face in her stomach and cooed.

"I missed you too, Bean," Elana murmured, rubbing the small one's back soothingly, "Don't scare me like that again, all right?"

……………

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

Huge shout out to @mndalorians for smoothing over everything and both dealing with my grammar and general nonsense (like our discourse with @teaofpeach today lmao)

Tags: @binggrae-banana-milk @b0n-chann @pisss-offf-ghostt @chibi-liz05 @din-damn-djarin @soldade @yourexcellentboiiii @chaotic-noceur @ezrasarm @hdlynn @mndalorians @over300books @agirllovespancakes @crookedmoonsaultpunk @teaofpeach @shadylightbearherring @mitchi-c @concussed-to-pieces @adikaofmandalore @buckythewhitewolfx @thirstworldproblemss

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x oc #pedro pascal #oloreaa writes #vencuyanir

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athenasbloodyspear · 3 years

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Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 5

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

You all arrived back at the compound to find Tony standing on the landing pad. He requested everyone in the common space to debrief but not until after you cleaned up.

“Don’t get blood on my upholstery.” Tony yelled at you all as you dragged yourselves through the compound.

In the five hour flight back, you’d lost most of your steam. The adrenaline had left your system and your muscles were more sore than you’d been in a long time. Every step you took toward your room felt like wading through mud.

When you finally got to your bathroom you looked at yourself in a mirror, really seeing the aftermath of the mission for the first time.

You had a nasty bruise on your cheekbone that you didn’t really remember how you got. Your face and chest was splattered with blood. You peeled the zipper on the front of your suit down and let the holsters and weapons attached drag the material off your shoulders and to the floor.

You surveyed the damage from under the suit then, standing completely naked in your bathroom.

The kevlar could protect your skin somewhat from bullets and knives, but it couldn’t completely dull their impact. You had large bruises on your upper arms, and you had some bruising on your hips from where the repelling harness and tugged hard when Bucky had stopped your free fall.

Your knees were pretty banged up from where you had hit the roof after Sam dropped you. When you turned you noticed that your one shoulder, the one that you had shifted your weight to while falling to try to keep yourself from crushing Bucky, was a nasty mosaic of blue, greens and purples.

All in all, you looked like someone had used you as a human punching bag. Despite all that, and how exhausted you were to your very bones, you felt amazing.

It was the kind of amazing you imagined marathon runners felt. Utterly and completely physically destroyed, but you had accomplished something you thought impossible.

You’d gone out there, and done a mission. You hadn’t broken down, you’d bantered with your friends and you’d successfully gotten Hydra intel.

You were making steps in the right direction. You were starting to tread water in the endless sea of emotions you had previously been drowning in. You might not be on dry land, but you could feel the sun on the crown of your head and you could taste the wind. It was a start.

You took another scalding shower, wincing when the water hit the ever pulsing cluster of bruising on your shoulder.

You dragged yourself to your closet and glanced through your clothes. There was no way you could put on a shirt that touched that bruise right now, any soft brush felt like agony. You grabbed the softest tank top you could find, forgoing a bra, and using your other arm, wrestled it over your shoulders and on your body. Then, still using one hand, shimmied into a pair of your comfiest sweats.

You couldn’t muster up the energy to lean down to put on socks, so you shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers and shuffled your way back down to the big open living space on the main floor.

Everyone but Nat and Clint were there already. You figured Clint had used Nat’s shower, since he didn’t have his own space at the compound, and they were probably running a bit behind. You hoped they hurried their asses up because you really just wanted to pass out right there on the rug in the middle of the room.

“Someone looks a little tired.” Sam called when you walked into the room, causing Tony, Bucky and Steve to look up from their conversation and survey you.

“I’m a little out of practice if you don’t remember.” You snarked back at Sam. You couldn’t come up with anything more sparkly to say right now.

Bucky patted the spot next to him on the couch and you hobbled over there. You definitely looked like you were 90 years old, hunched slightly and trying your damnedest not to bend your knees more than necessary. You were well trained, but your body definitely had forgotten what it was like to get the shit kicked out of you like that. It would take some getting used to again.

When you turned around to flop onto the couch (you didn’t have much energy left to lower yourself gently) you heard a small gasp behind you. As you started your quick and non-graceful descent, two hands wrapped around your waist to slow your momentum and let you fall softly into the couch.

“When did you get this, Doll?” Bucky murmured from behind you. Sam, Steve and Tony were bantering around you and Bucky kept his voice soft, just for you.

“Oh I believe it was when a bird brained idiot dropped us a little farther from the roof than necessary.” You huffed. Sam looked over at you then, spotting the nasty bruise on your shoulder. Bucky shot Sam a look of pure, unfiltered rage and Sam just held up his hands in surrender, saying nothing in return.

“I thought I took most of the impact.” Bucky said softly to you again, the fingertips of his metal hand brushing so softly over the skin of your shoulder you almost wondered if you were imagining it. Except it still hurt slightly, even with the cool metal touch soothing the burning skin.

You hissed a breath through your teeth involuntarily at the throbbing pain. He quickly withdrew his fingers, much to your chagrin. “I rolled a bit. Didn’t want to crush you.” You hissed through gritted teeth as you slowly leaned back against the couch, wincing when your shoulder hit the leather. You shifted your back slightly so that you were leaning mostly on the other shoulder, which pitched your weight slightly in Bucky’s direction.

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Crush me?” He shook his head and then quickly tucked a strand of your still drying hair behind your ear, almost like he wanted to be able to see your face clearer from this new angle. “I was wearing a kevlar bullet proof vest and a backpack to soften the fall. You just had a near paper thin scrap of kevlar between you and the concrete sweetheart.”

At this, Tony scoffed. “It is not paper thin, I would never send her out there unprotected.”

“She should have had a vest, Tony.” Bucky snapped back.

“Can you two shut up?” You moaned. “I’m exhausted. Can we just debrief so I can go pass out for the next month?”

As if you summoned them, Nat and Clint finally walked through the doors.

As Nat plugged the hard drive she had into a port in the wall, and Friday started projecting the information you’d all captured onto the walls, you felt yourself melt deeper and deeper into the couch. You didn’t really need to be here. You weren’t a keeper of information or someone who was needed to decipher codes, so you zoned out. Trying your best to appear present while also napping with your eyes opened.

At some point you felt a hand snag around your waist and pull you so you could rest your heavy head on a very large and muscular shoulder. Whoever this shoulder belonged to smelled delicious, and was so warm.

So warm.

You couldn’t think straight you were so sleepy. You couldn’t really remember where you were or who was around, all you knew is that the world of dreams was pulling you deep deep down. You wanted to close your heavy eyes and fall into it.

You noticed momentarily that you already had your eyes closed. You debated trying to pry them back open.

There’s something I’m supposed to be paying attention to. You thought. But oh my god I’m so warm and cozy right now.

You fell into it. This warmth and comfort. It was just too delicious to ignore.

~0~

You woke (it could have been 15 minutes or 15 days later, you really couldn’t tell) to the feeling of someone softly running their hand through your hair.

It felt delectable. The tingling in your scalp ran down your whole spine to your tailbone. It had been so long since you’d been this relaxed. Since you’d felt this safe. You took in a deep breath and buried your face deeper into the warm pillow under your head.

It was only when that pillow rumbled with laughter that you realized it wasn’t a pillow at all. No, this was a human being.

Worse, it was an incredibly warm and muscled chest that you knew well, as you’d been trying (and failing) not to stare at it lately.

The thing about your half awake mind is that you knew you were currently curled up in Bucky’s lap. You must have crawled farther into his lap in your sleep. He now sat with his back against the arm of the couch, his legs spread along the cushions with your body cradled between them. Your good shoulder was curled against his chest, you were huddled against his torso, your face buried in the space between his collarbone and pectoral muscles.

You knew all this. You knew how embarrassing it was that you had basically climbed the man in your sleep, but the only thing your sleep addled mind could come up with as a solution was to keep your face buried in his chest and pretend none of it was happening.

Okay. And maybe it felt really good and you didn’t want to move or say anything to break this spell. You could just pretend you were still sleeping right?

Wrong. Bucky knew you too well it seemed.

“Hey sleepy head.” He whispered, running his fingers through your hair again, from root to end, before starting again.

You sat up. Every inch that you peeled away from him was agonizing. Your skin was so cold where it left him. “What time is it?” You croaked, voice crackling with sleep. You squinted as you glanced around the common area. It was dark, you and Bucky were the only people left in the space with a few ambient lights still on around the room. Just enough to be able to make out the shape of the furniture.

“It’s somewhere around two.” Bucky grumbled under you, stretching his arms behind his head.

To your major distress, the action revealed a strip of skin at his waist and you could make out a spattering of hair and two distinct v-shaped muscles at the bottom of his abdominals. You quickly looked away, pushing with two hands on his chest to get yourself away from the man as fast as possible. Before you did something stupid like lean down and lick that skin.

Oh my god you’re losing your mind.

“Fuck.” You whispered, uncurling your legs and placing them on the floor. The debrief had started at around 8pm. You’d been curled up against Bucky for hours. You really hoped you hadn’t drooled, snored or farted in your sleep.

Or worse. Talked.

Who knows what you had been dreaming about.

You started to get up, but you were a little more groggy and stiff than you had realized and stumbled a bit as you pushed yourself up to your feet.

“Whoa girl.” Bucky chuckled, his hands wrapping around your waist to steady you from his position, now seated normally on the couch. “Okay Y/N, is this gonna be a thing you do now? Stumbling around and almost falling on your ass? It’s a little freaky.”

You whipped your head to look at him over your shoulder. He had repeated almost the exact words you’d said to him when he had stood at the end of the hall a month ago. After he had followed your drunk ass when you bolted during happy hour. He just smirked up at you from his place on the couch. He hadn’t moved his hands, even though you were completely stable now.

“Very funny.” You muttered, pulling yourself gently from his hands. Again, it was almost painful to do so but you simply had to before you did something stupid. “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

Bucky just looked down at his hands where they now rested on his lap, his smirk still in place, “Anytime.”

You flushed. Damn him and his ability to always pull a blush from you.

You just turned and started toward the door to the hall, ready to fall face first into your bed and not move for weeks. Embarrassment and exhaustion pulling at you in equal measure.

Just as your hands started to push the handle to the door you heard his throat clear behind you.

“Um. Would you wanna maybe… go explore Brooklyn with me for a while tomorrow?” Bucky asked cautiously. Like he was nervous you’d say no. As if you’d ever turn him down when he asked for anything.

You spun around and let your lower back lean gently against the door, carefully avoiding leaning your shoulders against it. “Brooklyn?” You muttered. You hadn’t been back to the city since Tony and Steve had hauled your depressed shell away. You could face it though, if it was with him. At least you hoped you could.

“Yeah.” He muttered, his metal arm shifting to rub his hand against the back of his neck. He looked so boyish like this. So vulnerable and soft as he avoided your eye contact. “I haven’t gone back in a while. I just sort of… miss it. I thought you might too.”

Little did he know, you had no desire to step foot in the borough again, but you would. For him. “Sure. I’ll come.” You managed feebly. Your heart pounded a bit in your chest, your throat closing just slightly as it became a challenge to keep your breath even.

Even though you were pretty sure there was no outward indication that your heart rate had sped up, he looked up at you suddenly, his brows furrowed. “If you don’t want to come, you really don’t--”

You cut him off. “No. I’ll be there. Shall we say two?”

He paused a moment, studying every plane of your face. He must have found an answer to the questions you could see running through his mind because he finally nodded. “Two it is.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow.”

You spun and pushed your way through the door.

You only hoped the nightmares would stay away and you could get some more sleep before tomorrow. You were gonna need it.

~0~

You had been able to sleep for a few more hours after you’d face planted into your mattress. Apparently you were still exhausted enough from the mission to pass out until 10.

You’d gotten up, inspected your shoulder (mostly healed due to your super human tendencies, although there was still a good sized bruise on your shoulder) and stretched a bit in your bedroom. You didn’t feel you needed to work out today, you deserved a day off, but your muscles were still pretty stiff.

You’d gone down the common room, had a lovely lunch chatting with Natasha and Wanda, before you returned to your room to dress for your afternoon with Bucky.

You decided on a black soft tank top again, with a leather jacket lined with silk over it, to help with your still slightly tender skin on your shoulder. You pulled on a pair of loose light washed jeans and shoved your feet into a pair of red sneakers. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and propped a pair of gold rimmed sunglasses on your head.

You met Bucky in the garage again. He had just smirked at you before offering you a helmet. He must have remembered your remark from your last ride. He hopped on the bike, no helmet for him apparently, and waited for you.

The whole ride to the city you had kept your head attached to his back. You could see glimpses of the world whipping past through the visor, but your heart was fluttering in your chest with panic.

You knew you probably wouldn’t see anyone you knew (you didn’t know many people from your old neighborhood anyway) and you knew you probably weren’t even going within blocks of your old place, but the panic was hard to tamp down. The idea of walking those streets again caused your chest to seize in a panic. You tried to breathe slowly, using techniques that your therapist had taught you over your last few sessions.

You focused on the way your arms felt wrapped around Bucky. You focused on the feeling of the bike rumbling underneath you. You focused on listening to the sounds of the engine and the traffic around you as it got steadily louder the closer you got to Brooklyn.

You lifted your head when you felt Bucky downshift and pull off the highway to the smaller streets of whichever neighborhood he was taking you to. When you lifted your head to look around, you recognized the streets as belonging to Brooklyn Heights, the old neighborhood Steve and Bucky had grown up in. You knew it was probably wildly different now, full of new money hipsters and thirty-something wall street brokers, with little coffee shops and niche bookstores and overpriced sushi restaurants everywhere. It was far enough from your old neighborhood of Prospect Heights, but still a tad too close to settle the flutter in your stomach.

Bucky pulled into a small slot between parallel parked cars and cut the engine.

You pulled the helmet off of your head and tried to fluff up what you were sure was now a matted rats nest of a bun. Bucky took the helmet from you and put it in a hidden compartment under the seat of the bike.

“So old timer, where to? Your old stomping grounds?”

Bucky just rolled his eyes at you. “I figured we could just wander. Stop in places that look interesting. It’s all different now, so I doubt I would even remember where our old stomping grounds are anymore.”

Something in your heart pulled a bit at that. It wasn’t fair that everything had been ripped away from Bucky. He had never wanted this life.

“Alright.” You said. Softer this time. “Lead the way.”

Bucky smiled softly at you before starting to walk down the block, in the direction of the river. You fell in step with him.

You both walked for a couple hours, Bucky pointing to buildings that were still the same. A few spots he remembered going as a kid, but most he said looked familiar but couldn’t place.

You made it to the river and spent some time side by side in silence, staring at the Manhattan skyline. It was a content sort of silence instead of the oppressive open void of silence that had been your companion for so many months.

Your stomach rumbling broke the silence. Bucky looked at you and laughed. “Alright. It’s time to feed the beast.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, punching him in his arm. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who ate not one, not two, but three burgers at that bar.”

Bucky just laughed again and said “Who said I was talking about you?”

~0~

You found a little pizza place not far from the river and ordered two large pepperoni pizzas. You walked back to one of the many grassy parks lining the river and plopped down with your meal. It had to be somewhere around 6pm at this point.

The anxiety in your gut had mostly faded away after the first twenty minutes of wandering around with Bucky. No one you had passed had really made a huge deal about the two of you being here. A few pedestrians had done a double take as they passed, but New Yorkers were probably pretty used to well-known people wandering around all the time, Avengers were no exception.

So you’d relaxed in the companionship of Bucky. It felt a bit like your time in Budapest, wandering the busy streets together. You spoke when one of you had something to share, but there was no pressure for constant chatter between you two. You barely even had to speak when one of you wanted to change direction to head toward a place that caught your eye, it was like you could read each other's thoughts and adjusted your trajectory accordingly. Like when you were on a mission together fighting at each other's backs, but this time the enemy was tourists who weren’t looking where they were going and socialites that didn’t look up from their phones as they walked.

You sat in the grass, munching on pizza, letting the crisp autumn breeze drift past. It was on the warm side today and the sun was still hot enough that you had shrugged your jacket off.

“I’m glad to see your bruise is healing.” Bucky said as he tore into another slice.

You hummed in response, swallowing your pizza. “It just looks nasty now, it doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t protect your shoulder from that fall.” Bucky whispered. He wasn’t looking at you. You balled up a napkin and chucked it at his head.

“Hey. Do not apologize. First of all, it was my fault for rolling slightly to try to keep myself from slamming into you. Second, it’s a mission. We’re bound to get a little beat up. I’ve had worse.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel better.” Bucky mumbled. You just rolled your eyes, which earned a small chuckle from Bucky.

You sat in silence for another few heartbeats before he spoke again. “You did really well, by the way. I know it’s been a while but you were a machine out there. It was nice to see you…” he trailed off.

“Nice to see me, what?” You prompted.

He looked at his pizza, clearly nervous about whatever it was he was going to say next. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it was really nice to see you be you again. A swaggering, sass-talking ass kicker.” He looked up at you again as he finished his sentence. You burst out laughing, nearly choking on the piece of half chewed pizza in your mouth.

“Ass kicker?” You spluttered. Bucky was laughing now too.

“You know what I mean!” Bucky tossed the balled up napkin you’d thrown at him back at your face, eliciting another string of giggles from you.

You took a few gulping breaths, settling yourself. The sounds of the breeze and chatter of nearby people filling the space between you. “I know what you mean.” You looked down at your pizza sadly, thinking about all the time you’d spent locked in your apartment, or your room at the compound, missing out on days like this. Days that weren’t special by any means, but were magical all the same.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Bucky said, knocking the toe of his boot against your sneakers. “I meant it in a good way.”

“No, I know.” You blurted. You didn’t want him to think any of this was his doing. “I’m just… I don’t know.” You paused for a moment, sorting out your swirling thoughts. He gave you space to think. “I’m just mad at myself for spending so much time not being myself.”

Buck just hummed in response. Leaving the space open for you, like he knew there was more swirling in your brain but you just hadn’t organized it yet.

“Something…” You stuttered a bit. Were you really going to talk to him about this? “Something really bad happened to me Buck.” You whispered finally.

Bucky turned toward you a bit. He moved preternaturally slow, like he was worried if he moved too quickly he would spook you and you’d run off. He’d been waiting for this, you guessed. He had probably been waiting for you to finally talk to him since the moment he had grabbed your arm to stop your momentum on your way to the elevators all those weeks ago. When he’d caught you disassociating outside of your bedroom. He’d been patiently waiting all that time for you to finally be ready.

You didn’t know if you were really ready, but he’d been so patient and the ambient sounds of the river and the pedestrians were lulling you into a sense of calm. It felt like this little patch of grass in this park was a totally different universe than the compound. It felt safe.

“That’s actually not true. Well it is true, but it’s not really how I should have said it. I… I let something really bad happen to me.” You whispered again. Bucky was staring straight at you now, you couldn’t meet his eyes. You looked at the tree behind him, the few slices left in your pizza boxes, the river to your right. He was breathing evenly and slowly, like he was hoping that his own even breathing would encourage you to keep yours steady.

“I…” You started to open your mouth to tell him everything, but you never got the chance as a cool voice called from behind you.

“Glad to know some things never change.”

Your heart stalled in your chest.

No. No no no no. Not here. Not now.

Bucky’s eyes shifted over your shoulder to the person who stood probably 10 feet away, behind you. His brows furrowed as he took the person in. You knew what he was probably seeing. A flop of dirty blonde hair, intense brown eyes and likely an immaculate suit or a well paired set of athletic wear on a thin but muscular body.

Elijah.

You couldn’t move.

“You always were a lying bitch.” Elijah spit. Bucky’s eyes flitted to you. Your eyes were still glued to the pizza box in front of you. You were unable to breathe, to think, to do anything. You had been so relaxed sitting here you didn’t even consider the possibility that Elijah would ever happen across you. What were the odds? In a city of over 8 million, what were the chances that Elijah would be in this park at the same time you were.

Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel the rage build in Bucky’s body as he stared at your motionless body. He saw every strangled breath you tried to choke down and he turned an absolute lethal look on Elijah. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d gone cold. That the Winter Soldier was looking at your ex fiance now. But you did know better, and there were too many emotions swirling in Bucky’s eyes at the moment.

“Who the hell are you?” Bucky gritted out, his metal fist was in the dirt underneath him and dug in, like he needed something to keep him from launching up and wrapping his fist around Elijah’s neck instead.

Elijah’s arrogant chuckle rolled over your shoulders, causing your stomach to lurch. Why couldn’t you fucking move? “I think you know exactly who I am, you brute.”

You almost laughed at that. Elijah, perfectly plain normal man Elijah who took an occasional boxing class at the gym tossing insults at a literal super soldier with more kills on his list than Elijah could ever comprehend.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he looked at you again. He was clearly waiting for some sort of message from you on how he should proceed. It seemed like if he had it his way he would probably strangle him right here in front of hundreds of onlookers and not give a shit.

“What do you want, Elijah?” You choked out finally, if only to save Bucky from the fall-out of killing a civilian in broad daylight.

“Nothing in particular.” Elijah tossed at you. You finally glanced over your shoulder and sure enough, he stood there in his usual running gear.

Of course. You thought. His running route normally takes him along the river.

You’d forgotten in the near year you’d been apart.

“I just was on my run minding my own business when I saw you over here. My slut of an ex sitting here with one of the very men she said she didn’t even work with anymore.” Elijah continued. You flinched at his words. Bucky became even more murderous, if that was possible. You flicked your eyes up at him, trying to convey that he shouldn’t engage. This wasn’t an enemy worth the fight. “I was just wondering if you could answer a question for me.” Elijah finished.

“What?” You gritted out. Your heart was thundering in your chest now, your muscles locked together to keep you from moving. You felt like you might start shivering soon, you were suddenly so cold and it only had a little to do with the setting sun.

“I wanna know how long after I left you it was before you jumped in their beds.” He hissed. “Did you wait at all or did you run straight into the arms of the juiced up freaks and fuck em?”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Bucky snarled. His voice had pitched unnaturally low. He kept his eyes on you, as if he couldn’t stand to look at Elijah without trying to kill him.

You choked and coughed a bit. The panic in your stomach flipped the acid and your throat started to burn. You could feel tears building pressure behind your eyes.

I will not cry. Not in front of him. You told yourself.

Elijah just laughed at Bucky. “Did he do that?” Elijah asked. You weren’t looking at him, but you figured he was indicating the large bruise on your shoulder. “Missed me that much did you? Had to find someone else to bash you around when you’re being a cunt?”

Bucky launched himself at Elijah. Like a spring finally being released, he jumped up with no warning.

But you had fast reflexes too.

You jumped up between them, placed your hands on his chest to stop his forward momentum. Something in the movement finally released the panic in your gut and you felt tears spill over your cheeks and down your jaw. You were holding every muscle in your chest as tight as possible to keep from audibly sobbing.

Bucky’s murderous gaze shifted to yours, and once he tracked the tears he instantly softened and brought one hand to either side of your face, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours.

You closed your eyes and choked “Get me out of here Bucky. Please.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders and one under your knees, hauled you in his arms, and began taking long strides away. He leaned down to snag your jacket, but left everything else where it laid.

You had the fleeting thought that you hoped someone came and picked up your trash. You hoped it was someone who maybe needed those last few slices of pizza.

Bucky was almost running, like he couldn’t remove you both fast enough by walking.

From behind you you could hear Elijah chuckling and yelling “That’s right bitch. Have your mutant monsters save you from everything. You’re fucking pathetic.”

Bucky squeezed you closer to his chest until you were far enough away you couldn’t hear Elijah’s taunting voice anymore. You could hear it in your mind, though. Your spiralling panic wouldn’t let you forget it.

Had to find someone else to bash you around

You’re pathetic

Lying bitch

His voice echoed and ricocheted around your skull. He was right. You were a pathetic liar who ruined every relationship you touched. You had lied to your best friends and strained your relationships with them, you had lied to your fiance and destroyed a multi-year relationship when he found out.

You were a liar. And a ruiner. A pathetic mess who didn’t deserve Steve and Tony’s trust. Who didn’t deserve that final dose of serum they gave you. Who didn’t deserve friends like Peter, Sam and Thor. Who didn’t deserve people like Natasha watching your back. Who didn’t deserve someone like Bucky holding you, carrying you away from something you couldn’t face because you were a coward.

You sobbed then. A loud, jarring sound that was ripped involuntarily from your body. If you had any room left in your body for more emotions you would have been embarrassed that you were falling apart in public, with hundreds of witnesses, and crying into Bucky’s metal arm again.

Suddenly Bucky sat down on what must have been a park bench, adjusting your weight slightly so that he could use the arm that had been holding under your legs to reach into his pocket.

Your heaving sobs continued to tear their way out of you. Your face was buried in Bucky’s arms and you were trying to suck air into your lungs but it felt like there was water in them.

You were fully under again. There was no air here, no sun, no wind. It was just the roar of panic in your ears. The world around you was muffled. You could only vaguely feel where your hips sat on Bucky’s lap and the band of his arm around your shoulders.

You heard Bucky’s voice, muffled to your ears like you were sitting at the bottom of the deep end of a pool, “I need the quinjet to come get us. I just sent you our location.” You sucked in another heave of breath. “I’ll explain later but I need that jet right fucking now.” He paused “I don’t fucking care that we’re in the middle of civilians.” Another sob left your chest and Bucky’s warm arm wrapped a little tighter around your shoulders. “I’ll grab my bike later. Yeah. Thanks.” Bucky wrapped up the call and slid his phone back in his pocket before wrapping his arm under your knees again.

Bucky started to rock your body very slowly back and forth on the bench. His nose and mouth were pressed against the top of your head as he murmured “It’s okay. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore. It’s me. It’s me. I’ve got you.” You sucked another rattling breath in, not nearly deep enough to offer any release from the spasming in your chest. “You gotta breathe for me baby. C’mon. You have to breathe.” Bucky continued, his warm hand soothing strokes up and down your back.

You couldn’t. Your throat was nearly closed and you couldn’t open your eyes or lift your head. It was like you were frozen solid, drifting in a void.

Bucky kept murmuring into the top of your head while he rocked you. You felt your body grow lighter and lighter, your hands and feet going tingly and then numb as your panic grew and grew.

The last thing you were aware of before you lost consciousness was the sudden rumbling of the jet above your head and the thud of the ramp hitting the concrete.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky

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flightsoffandom · 4 years

Text

Co-Conspirators Part 2

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Words: 8510

Summary: After agreeing to start a secret relationship with Aaron. Its time to convince your co-workers so you can make it through the workday and wait for your upcoming date with Aaron.

Warnings: None

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. So here is the second part. No creative title at this point in time cause I stayed up till 5 am to edit and post this. If I come up with one later, I might change it. Hopefully, everyone likes it as much as the first part. I’m actually thinking about continuing this and turning it into a more long term project. No lie if I do keep this, smut will probably get written into this, ope.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2*–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5–Part 6

You sat at Hotch’s desk and helped out with paperwork, keeping an eye on your co-workers as they came in. When the last person showed up, you wrapped up the work in front of you. You stood up and smiled at Hotch, “Our audience is waiting, ready?” Hotch looks up and over to the window, “Everyone’s here?” You nod, “Mhmm, I am going to slam your door for a bit of drama.” Hotch chuckles, “If you break my door, I will actually have to write you up." You roll your eyes and nod, “I know government property and all that blah blah.”

Working with profilers means they could pick up on anything and catch you guys lying. Luckily since both you and Hotch were also profilers, you knew exactly what signs and body language to mimic to make it seem real. You stiffen up and cross your arms over your chest in a defensive fashion. Hotch watches you, stiffening up himself, “We should make at least part of the argument loud enough for Rossi to hear through the wall” You nod, getting ready to start this fake fight. Some of the team could read lips, so you had to actually say the right things to pull this off. You take a deep breath before starting, “You know that cop deserved what I said to him.” Hotch easily follows your lead, “It doesn’t matter if he deserved it. It's inappropriate behavior out in the field.” You and Hotch working together had built up a good flow with situations like this. There has been more than one occasion when you had to play off each other to get information from an unsub. You tapped your foot to appear antsy, “You already yelled at me for this, why are we bringing this back up?” Hotch raises his voice, “Their police department has been bringing it back up for the last few months. They are talking about disciplinary action.” Hotch crosses his arms and glares at you, “You represent the FBI when you’re out in the field. You need to remember that.” You lean forward defensively, “Does the FBI want to just let people walk all over them?” Hotch stares at you, “It is our job to build bridges with departments. Not burn them.” You roll your eyes and start distancing yourself from him, “Yes… Yes… we have to bend over backward to keep everyone happy, even the assholes.” You reach for the door. You know Hotch will say something as soon as you open the door to get the message across to the team. You open the door, and right on queue, Hotch shouts at you, “Watch your mouth, and that's an order.” You huff loudly and walk out of his office. You make sure to slam the door on the way out, just enough to sell it. As you trot down the stairs, it takes all your willpower not to smile. It was actually kind of fun to fake argue. You see the team starting to look around, trying to figure out what is going on. So for a little flair, you hiss as you pass the group, “Bite me, Hotch.” You practically fall back into your chair and start angrily moving papers around. When you see Rossi looking at you while walking to Hotch’s office, you knew it was working. When Reid poked his head up from his desk and started questioning, “What happened?” Reid looked a bit worried. Emily walked past him, chuckling, “Just because your parents are fighting doesn't mean they love you any less.” Emily tussles Reid’s hair as she passes. You glare at Emily when she looks over at you. Emily shrugs and smirks in response. Reid quickly moves away from Emily’s hand, looking annoyed, “Hey, that's not what I’m worried about.” After that, work continued on, with most of the team not really saying anything directionally to you. You did get questioned by both Penelope and Rossi.

Penelope got you when you went into her zone to get some information you needed to continue working. You walked into her room, “Can I get some extra info from you pretty please?” Penelope completely turned around to look at you, “When you ask that nicely, of course… but…” Garcia plays with a fuzzy pen in her hands, “I wanna trade.” You raise your eyebrows, sitting in the extra chair in her office, “I don't have any new comics to show you, so I’m not sure…” You let your sentence trail off. Penelope grabs a piece of bright pink paper with words written in glitter ink, “Well, I have some for you…” You take the paper from her, putting it into your pocket. Penelope waves her hands, “But that's not what I meant.” You lean back in the office chair, narrowing your eyes at the brightly colored woman in front of you, “Okay?” Penelope taps the pen on the arm of her chair, “A sweet chocolate little hunky bird told me that you and Hotch had a big fight this morning.” You make sure to let out an annoyed huff, “Derek…” Penelope throws her hands up in surrender, “I didn't name names… I’m no snitch.” You put your elbow on the arm of the chair, resting your chin on your hand, “So what's the trade?” Garcia smiles, leaning forward, “Dirt for dirt.” You sigh loudly, “Fine, ask away.” Penelope scoots her chair closer to you, “I heard you got mad enough you slammed Hotch’s office door. Are you guys really that mad at each other? I mean, you two are the dream team.” Penelope pauses and wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Well, Derek and I are the dream team, so you and Hotch would be like the dream team... reloaded... or something.” Your act cracks a little, unable to fully keep it under wraps around Penelope. You chuckle but quickly regain yourself, “Maybe things will start going back to normal when he stops being an ass. My mouth probably doesn't help, but that's not going to change too drastically anytime soon.” You shrug it off. Penelope watches you. She starts giggling, “There's a reason I call you 'sugar' all the time.” You put your hand on your heart in mock offense, “I thought it was because of how sweet I am.” Garcia gives you a loving pat on the head, “That’s part of it. The other part is you don’t usually sugar coat things.” You smile, leaning forward in your chair, “I think I’ll just keep pretending it's because I’m a sweetheart.” Penelope smiles, turning around in her chair, “Of Course you will. So what did you need?” After you got the information from Garcia, you leave to go back to work.

Later in the day, Rossi passed your desk. He puts his hand on your shoulder and talks quietly, “Why don’t you take a break? We can have some coffee in my office.” You look up and give Rossi a confused look. You could tell it was more of a request than an actual question. You stand up from your desk, “Sure…” The team tries to discreetly watch you and Rossi walking up to his office. Since almost everyone was watching, you make sure to stiffen up when you pass Hotch’s office to sell it. Rossi gestures for you to come into his office, closing the door behind you. Rossi walks over to his desk, “During one of my marriages me and my wife would shout at each other all the time. Over anything and everything.” You stay near the door, glaring at Rossi, “What does this have to do with me?” You cross your arms and smirk, “If this is a proposal of some kind Rossi, I’m flattered, but you're not my type.” You get an extra cocky tone to your voice. Rossi scoffs and chuckles, “I’m taking a strict ‘three strikes your out’ policy with marriages, no exceptions.” You shrug, “So, Why did you drag me in here with the false promises of coffee?” Rossi casually sits back, holding up his coffee cup, "Didn't lie about coffee, just none for you." You glare at Rossi, grumbling. Rossi continues, "You two only argue this much because there is tension, just like my ex-wife and me.” You narrow your eyes at Rossi, trying to figure out if he suspects anything. Rossi continues, “I personally think you’d be good together, but you’d have to make the first move. We all know Hotch can be a stick in the mud.” You shake your head, doing your best to convince Rossi. Rossi shrugs, “That's just my two cents, take it or leave it.” You laugh and get ready to leave, “I get it. You're the cool uncle who is totally fine with breaking the rules. Thanks, but you're projecting.” You left Rossi’s office. Crossing your fingers that Rossi bought it as you go back to work. If you and Hotch could just keep this up, everything would be fine.

It was actually pretty easy to keep that up. It didn’t take much else to keep selling it with the two months of ignoring each other. The work for the day was mostly just paperwork. Which you were thankful for. Considering if you guys got a legitimate case, there would be a high chance that it would take the team out of town. Meaning you’d all have to give up your day off. This was the first time you had plans you were looking forward to in months. You and Hotch kept up the act throughout the day. Messaging each other every now and then when it was safe. When the workday was over, the team trickled out of the building. Until only you and Hotch were left. When you were sure the coast was clear, you grabbed your paperwork from the day and headed to Hotch’s office. You didn't even bother to knock. Hotch doesn't even look up from his papers, “The team better have bought it because Rossi came in here and questioned me for thirty minutes after our ‘fight’.” You put a guilty look on your face, “Sorry… Reid seems to have bought it, though.” You sit in your chair in front of Hotch’s desk, “If we got those two to buy it, we are pretty much set.” Hotch looks up at you, chuckling, “Rossi said we remind him of one of his old relationships.” You wrinkle your nose, “He said the same thing to me. I’m going to take that as a compliment even though the man has been divorced three times.” Hotch shakes his head, going back to work, “I’m choosing to look at it as a positive as well.” You hum softly, getting comfortable in your chair as you start working. The peaceful silence you two share falls over the room.

After a few hours of quietly working away, you look at your watch, “Do you need to be getting home?” Hotch perks up and looks at the time, “Actually, yes.” Hotch looks down at the stack of papers he was wanting to get done. You smile, “Go, I can finish those up.” Hotch frowns, “I can…” You roll your eyes and interrupt him, “I got it.” Stubbornly you grab his stack of papers and pull them away from him. “Look, you finished your pile. You can go home.” Hotch glares at you, getting up from his desk. He stares you down, trying to gauge whether to argue or not. You smile at Hotch before going back to work. He decided against fighting you, “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.” Hotch starts grabbing his things. You watch him move about and laugh, “Looking forward to it.” Hotch goes to leave but then stops at the door, “Don’t stay too late.” You turn to watch him, smirking, “I won’t.” Hotch narrows his eyes at you and leaves the room. Right after he closes the door, he opens it again to add, “No sleeping in your car, either.” You roll your eyes but smile, “I've never done that before in my life.” Hotch stares you down, “I’ve caught you at least four times.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I promise I won't…” You tilt your head back and forth, “At least not tonight.” You grin at Hotch, causing him to shake his head. Hotch cracks a smile, “I’ll accept that answer for now. Goodnight.” As Hotch walks out the door, you call over your shoulder, “Goodnight.”

You diligently work through the rest of the paperwork in front of you. It goes by at about its usual pace. The stack dwindles down to the last few files, and you can feel yourself getting tired. You rub your eyes, trying to regain focus. You hear your phone go off. You reach for your cell and put it up to your ear, already knowing who would be up late enough to call you. You hold your phone to your ear with your shoulder so you can keep working. You tease him, “Now... now, Aaron. We haven't even been on our first date, and you're already being clingy.” You hear Hotch chuckle on the other end, “I’m concerned.” You keep writing away, chuckling, “Lucky for you, I like clingy.” Hotch’s voice comes across softer than normal, “Very lucky indeed.” You hear Hotch sigh before speaking at a normal volume again, “I thought I told you not to stay late.” You laugh, finishing a file, “Define late? This is a pretty normal time for me still.” You move onto the next piece of work, “Isn't it hypocritical, though? I mean, you're saying it's late, but you called me. Which means you were still up.” Hotch chuckles again, “You caught me.” You softly hum as you continue working, “What’s keeping you up?” You can hear Hotch moving around as he talks, “I still feel bad for making you finish my work.” You laugh, shaking your head, “You could be Catholic with the amount of guilt you lug around. I offered.” You finish writing and then flip the page, “I’m almost done. Also, I remember someone promising to make it up to me tomorrow night.” Hotch laughs, “What did you have in mind?” You scoff sitting up in your chair, “You're a profiler, I think you can figure it out.” Hotch sighs but you can tell he is smiling, “It's been a long time since I planned a date. Really want to trust me with that?” You finish the last file, “We trust each other with our lives, I think I can trust you with a date.” You start putting files away. Hotch chuckles as he replies, “Fair point.” You smile grabbing your things and leaving the room, “I’m officially leaving work now. Does that make you feel better?” Hotch teases, “I’ll feel better when I know you're not sleeping in your car.” You scoff, trotting over to your desk, “Fine, you're asking for it.” Hotch laughs, “Oh no.” You start digging through your desk when you find what you're looking for.

Pulling out a personal wireless earpiece. You sync it up to your phone before putting it on, “There. Hands-free. Now you get to listen to my boring drive all the way home.” It sounds like Hotch is washing dishes as he replies, “Perfect. Someone has to make sure you take care of yourself.” You roll your eyes, heading out of the building, “Yeah...yeah… I’m a mess… Tell me something I don't know.” Hotch takes your comment seriously and thinks for a second, “It’s mortifying… but…” You make a curious humming noise as you get into your car. Hotch sighs, “I have been thinking about that kiss for that past two months.” Hotch lets out a nervous chuckle, “You had me worried when you ran away afterward.” Your cheeks burn. Glad you were talking to him over the phone so he couldn't see you. You start your car, “Clearly, my fight or flight leans towards flight.” Hotch laughs, “I’ve seen you walk into multiple dangerous situations without a second thought.” You make sure to focus on driving even as you chuckle, “I’ll correct myself. My romantic fight or flight leans to the flight side. I wasn't sure if you were interested in me or not…” You pause, smirking to yourself, “If I had known, I would have ended up getting us caught that night.” Hotch lets out another laugh, “It's probably for the best then, I definitely wouldn't have stopped you.” You pull into your parking spot, teasing “How scandalous… you're my boss.” Hotch teases back, “Which means I can give you orders.” You get out of the car, using a suggestive voice as you respond, “And if you ask real nicely, I’d be willing to follow them outside of office hours.” Hotch takes a deep breath, “I...I’ll keep that in mind.” You chuckle, walking to your apartment door. “Your duality kinda makes you the total package.” You pull your keys out, unlocking your door. “I get a sullen badass and a sweet romantic all in one.” Hotch scoffs, “Ahh yes, attached with a laundry list of problems” You hum happily as you walk in the door, “I assure you I have my own problems. We can exchange lists later.” Hotch makes a noncommittal noise as he seems to be taking care of a few things around his apartment. You let the door close behind you, automatically kicking off your shoes. Upon hearing the door, Hotch talks again, “Your home safe then?” You smile, dropping most of your stuff on the ground, locking the door. “Yep, safe, and sound.” You switch from your hands-free device back to your cell phone. You punch your security alarm code before bringing your phone up to your ear, “Feel better now?” Hotch chuckles, “Much.” He lets out a long sigh, his voice getting more serious, “Thank you, I know it might seem overbearing…” You peel off your clothes. Leaving a trail behind you as you interrupt him with a laugh, “Aaron… we both know what overbearing looks like. This isn't even close.” You strip down to your underwear and sit on your bed. “We have a spooky job that makes us rightfully paranoid, especially when it involves people we care about. So...” You flop back onto your bed, “You have nothing to thank me for.” Hotch’s voice takes on a happier tone, “When you put it that way…” He pauses before adding, “Maybe, I’ll just use this as my way of making up for two months of silence.” You grin happily, “Ohh, does that mean I can expect more extended phone calls?” Hotch chuckles, “Yes, as much as you tolerate.” You sit up, smirking, “That sounds almost like a challenge Agent Hotchner.” Hotch puts on a fake serious voice, “If you didn't take it as a challenge, then I’d have to make it an order.” You chuckle, dramatically gasp, “Using your position for evil.” You take a teasing tone, “You might wanna be careful threatening me, though.” You sit back up and head to your dresser. Hotch laughs, “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” You pull on pajamas, grinning, “I have a date with an FBI agent. He is the best, and I imagine he wouldn't take lightly to you bullying me.” You can hear the eye roll in Hotch’s voice, “I recall someone mentioning you like it when I’m a bully.” You huff, “Should have never told you, now you'll use it against me.” Hotch chuckles, “For as long as I can.” You lay on your bed and let out a content hum. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember the last time you talked on the phone for this long. Or when was the last time you enjoyed a phone call this much. It was odd. Even through the phone, you could feel the special silence you and Hotch shared. Hotch broke the silence first. His voice came out soft and sleepy, “I think we both need to get some rest. I have a hot date I want to impress.” You tiredly chuckled, “Good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hotch replied, “Sleep well.” Both of you ended the call, and you quickly passed out.

That night you got some of the best rest you had in a long time. After working for the BAU for two years and all the extra hours you put in, your body had gotten used to a particular schedule. To the point, you hadn't needed to set an alarm after your first six months with the Bureau. It wasn't unusual to sometimes get woken up by phone calls. It was almost always Hotch on the other end. So when you woke up to your phone ringing this morning, you instinctively grabbed it. You didn't even have to open your eyes to answer the call and bring it to your ear, “Please tell me you are not calling for a case.” What was utterly bizarre was how Hotch answered the phone. Hotch’s voice was happy, “Not calling for a case, just calling to talk to you.” He sounded wide awake. Making you curious as to what time it was but not curious enough to open your eyes. Hotch commented, “Did I wake you up?” You grumble, “You wake me up all the time, why do you sound surprised?” Hotch chuckles, “Because it's about three to four hours after you normally wake up.” Your eyes shoot open, “What? It’s 9 am?” Hotch sounded more than amused, “It’s closer to 10.” This time you shoot up out of bed. You mumbler mostly to yourself as you get up and out of bed, “What the fuck?” You didn't have any plans until your date later, but it was disorienting to wake up this late in the day. You could hear public background noise. Hotch sounded slightly out of breath as he spoke, “Clearly, I kept you up too late last night.” You scoff, sitting on your bed. “Don’t flatter yourself. If anything, I went to bed early last night.” You rub your eyes with your free hand, “I just slept a lot better than I normally do.” Hotch quickly gets a cocky tone, “I wonder why that is.” You chuckle and roll your eyes, changing subjects, “Why are you so peppy and tired, sounding at the same time?” Hotch chuckles, “I’m talking to you, and I just finished running.” You get up and head to your kitchen, “I bet that is quite the view.” You hear Hotch get into his car as he talks, “You're always welcome to join me.” You start making coffee, “I might take you up on that, but I don't want you getting sick of me.” Hotch chuckles, “After almost three years working together, I don’t think that could happen.” You smile to yourself, humming “That's very optimistic, I like it.” Hotch lets out a happy sigh, “I think I figured out our date tonight.” You chuckle, “Ohh… do tell.” Hotch teases, “The only thing I’m going to tell you is its dinner, and I would recommend dressing nicely.” You pour yourself some coffee, “Are we talking business, club, or just hot date nice?” Hotch laughs, “I’m pretty sure you don't even like clubs. I’m sure you'll know what to wear.” You grin and chuckle, “Are we meeting there?” Hotch playfully criticizes you, “Nice try. I’ll pick you up at 6 tonight.” You start drinking coffee, “I’m looking forward to it.” There is a short pause before Hotch lets out a sigh, “As much as I would like to talk as much as we did last night…” You smile to yourself, finishing for him, “ But you have important adult stuff to go do.” Hotch responds with a melancholy sigh, “Unfortunately, yes.” You play around with your coffee cup, “Well, you're free to call me anytime today… as long as it's not for a case.” Hotch chuckles, “I wouldn't dream of it.” You smile, “Now go be responsible, I’ll see you tonight.” You can once again hear the smile in Hotch’s voice, “See you then.” The call ends, and a large smile stays on your face.

You make yourself some food, ready to actually have a lazy day for once in your life. You may not have had a lot of free time typically. Using these few hours to do whatever you could to unwind. You had never been great at sitting around and relaxing, but today you were able to slide into it easily. You were eager for 6 to roll around. Putting you in a weird state of time, both moving too slowly and too quickly all at once. When it was finally 4, you started getting ready. Two hours early may have seemed extreme, but Hotch was good at staying punctual. So you just assumed he would be anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour early. Scanning through your clothes, you picked out the perfect outfit. Something closer to a ‘hot date’ look without being over the top. You finished getting ready for the date and sat on your couch. When your phone rang, you immediately picked it up.

Hotch was on the other end, already apologetic, “I know I said 6. I’m running a little late.” You chuckle, getting up off the couch, “How about I come to you then?” You grab your keys and stand by your door. You hear Jack murmuring in the background as Hotch talks, “I… Actually, that's a good idea.” You smile, “I’ll be there soon, then.” Hotch replies with a quick but sincere, “Thank you.” Ending the call. You chuckle and shake your head as you make your way to the car. You and Hotch didn't live too far away from each other. So it doesn't take long for you to drive to Hotch’s apartment. When you got to his place, you gave the door a rhythmic knock.

Hotch answered the door. He was in a suit, nicer looking than the ones he wears to work. The thing was that his hair was a bit of a mess, with the fabric of a bow tie laying undone around his neck. As soon as he saw you, Aaron’s face lit up, “Hey… Sorry, come in.” You couldn't help the giant smile that slipped onto your face. You weren't sure if you had ever seen him this disheveled in a causal situation. It was beyond adorable to see him like this. Aaron stepped back, opening the door fully for you. You walk in slowly, looking around, “Everything okay?” Aaron chuckles, closing the door behind you, “Jessica, Jack’s aunt is just running behind. So that threw me off.” As if right on queue, Jack peeks out and gives you a shy wave. You had met Jack quite a few times over the years. Jack was a sweet kid, and luckily he seemed to like you. You smile and crouch down, “Hey there, Jack.” Jack runs over, “Can you play with me before you and daddy leave?” Aaron goes to say something, but you interrupt him. You grin happily, “Of course, Lil’ man. Why don't you go find something for us to play with, and I’ll be there soon?” Jack smiles and runs back to his room, “Yay.”

You stand up and look back at Aaron. Aaron spoke to you with a sweet look on his face, “You don’t have…” You interrupt him again, “Did you choose a place that needs a reservation?” Aaron furrows his brow, looking more like he does at work, “Why?” You roll your eyes and glare at him, “Did you?” Aaron watches you, not sure what is going on, “No, I didn't.” You smile, “Why don’t you call Jessica and tell her not to worry about coming over.” Aaron crosses his arms, scanning your face, “Someone has to be here to watch Jack.” You fake gasp, “What is that a law or something, I’ve never heard of it before.” Aaron bores down into you with a glare. You shake your head and smile up at him, “I think me and you both being adults will be able to watch him.” Aaron watches you, thinking for a long while before speaking, “You got all dressed up.” His eyes rack over you, “You look great, by the way.” You give a cocky grin and eat it up, “Thank you very much.” You grab Aaron by his button-up shirt, pulling him away from the door. Aaron easily lets you lead him, a smirk slipping onto his face. You tease, “We dress nice at work all the time… maybe it would be fun to see each other in comfy clothes.” Once you get Aaron a few feet away from the front door, you stop. Aaron uncrosses his arms, and his face gets softer as he smiles, “That could be interesting.” You smile, rotating the two of you. So now your closest to the front door. You get a more serious tone, “Plus, it will give you more time with Jack. Our job is busy.” Aaron studies you again for a moment. You were sure he was trying to see if you really wanted this or were just saying what he wanted to hear. You tilt your head and reach behind you, grabbing the door handle, “I have a go-bag in my car. Let me go grab it so I can change.” Aaron smiles down at you and nods, “Okay, hurry back. Or Jack and I will start having all the fun without you.” You grin happily and reach up, giving Aaron a quick peck. Aaron does try to continue kissing you but pull away. You grin devilishly, teasing him before quickly slipping out the door.

Within a few minutes, you were able to grab your bag and be back at Aaron’s door. You give a rhythmic knock, and Aaron casually opens the door. Now he was in a plain t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You grin and whistle at Aaron as he lets you in the door. Aaron closes the door behind you, making sure to lock it. Aaron comes up behind you and grabs you by your hips before you make it too far into the apartment. You let out a startled gasp before blushing. Aaron chuckles as he leads you further into his apartment, “Payback for that peck.” He was leaning down to talk to you, “Use my bedroom to get changed.” Aaron motions to his room before letting go of you, giving you a soft, playful pat on the ass. You tried to hide your smile as you turned around to glare at him. Aaron just smiles back. Hiding your own smile becomes pointless. You close the bedroom door behind you. You look around, thinking about how the night was going to go. Not wanting to be too presumptuous, you put your bag against the wall away from the bed. You start quickly changing into your comfy clothes, a t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

Emerging from Aaron’s bedroom, you sneak over to Jack’s bedroom door, looking in. Aaron is sitting on the ground, playing with Jack. You smile and watch them for a second. It was nice seeing Aaron so happy, it gave you a fluttery feeling in your stomach. After enjoying the moment, you decide to move into the room, “So what's the plan?” You sit down next to Aaron and look at Jack. Jack was happily playing with action figures as he looked up at you, “I am choosing?” Aaron looks over at you with a smile on his face. You slide your hand across the floor until you reach Aaron’s. Aaron loosely wraps his hand around yours on the ground. You turn your attention back to Jack, “Yep, you know more about having fun than your dad and me, so you're in charge.” Aaron tassels Jack's hair, “That right, buddy.” Jack giggles happily before he goes off and brings over some things to do.

First, it was just playing with figures, after a while switching to legos. When Jack was ready to move on from toys, he chose board games next. With how much Jack looked up to Aaron, it wasn't surprising that the first board game he grabbed was ‘Clue’. Jack pulled the box over to you and Aaron, “Let’s catch bad guys like you and daddy do.” Aaron makes a face and looks at you. You shrug smiling, “‘Clue’ is one of my favorite board games.” Aaron rolls his eyes, “Why am I not surprised?” You make a guilty face, “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised where I ended up career-wise. Though it was not my original plan.” You smile down at Jack as you help him set up the board game. Aaron also helps, “I’m glad you didn't choose a different line of work.” You chuckle, shuffling the cards, “You and me both.” You deal out the cards. You look down at Jack, “If you want, I’ll help you win Jack.” Jack looks up at you, “Really?” Aaron scoffs, “That would be blatant cheating.” You smirk at the man across from you, “Is it cheating when we get outside help? It’s called a consultation.” Aaron glares at you, smiling, “You're pushing it.” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense, “Jack, you're the boss. Would it be cheating or not?” Jack makes a face looking between you and his father, “We all help each other.” You hum happily, “You know you dad says the same thing at work, right?” You can feel Aaron watching you. Jack excitedly looks at you, “Really?” You nod, “Mhm, he always says ‘It doesn't matter who gets credit for it, as long as the bad guy gets caught.’” You smile at Jack, “That's how you know your daddy is a perfect guy.” Jack beams at his dad, “Daddy is the best!” You smile over at Aaron, “No argument here.” Aaron watches you with intense but happy eyes. You look away, blushing, focusing back on Jack, “Ready to catch the bad guy?” Jack rocks happily, “Yes, please.” You all start playing. Completely messing up the rules of the game in order to ‘consulate’ with each other. Obviously, you and Aaron slowly set it up so that Jack will end up winning.

When Jack won, he proudly announced it, “I got the bad guy.” You help Aaron cleanup as he talks to his son, “Good job, buddy. Even beat two professionals.” You laugh, finishing putting the game away, “You know what we get to do when we catch the bad guy?” Jack looks at you, curiously. You start standing up, “We get to fly on a special plane.” You gently pick Jack up before fully standing up. Jack giggles as you hold him. Aaron watches you with a smile, and you wink at him. You carry Jack out of his room, as you start making plane noises. Once you get to the living room, you dramatically fake fall onto the ground, keeping Jack safe the whole time. Once you're on the ground, you lay on your back, holding Jack up above you. He holds out his arms with a smile, and you continue making plane noises for him. You laugh happily watching Jack have fun, you didn't really care how silly you looked. After a few minutes, Aaron walks into the room, watching you two for a minute. Aaron walks over, “You having fun?” You smile up at both the boys, nodding. Jack squirms around, you move him to the side and let Jack stand on his own. Jack runs and tackles his dad with a hug, “So much fun. Can they come over more often?” Aaron crouches down to pick up his son, looking at you. Aaron smiles, “I think we could do that.” You sit up on your elbows, “Maybe you and daddy can even come sleepover at my place sometime.” Aaron raises his eyebrows, smiling, “That would be really fun, wouldn't it?” Jack beams, “The most fun.” You chuckle, watching the two. Aaron kisses Jack on the cheek, “Why don't you go play while we make dinner?” Jack nods happily, running off as soon as Aaron sets him on the ground.

Aaron walks closer to you, officially towering over you now. You flop back down onto the ground, “The view from down here is pretty nice… I like you in a suit, of course, but…” You grin, “Shorts are also a perfect look on you.” Aaron looked down at you with a smirk, “I’m liking your casual look as well.” You reach your arm up towards him. Aaron leans down and grabs you by your upper arm. You duplicate the action so he can pull you off the floor. It was a simple enough gesture, considering you both had helped each other up in the same way both in the field and during training exercises. You stood up on your feet, coming chest to chest with Aaron. You look up at Aaron and can’t help but smile, “I like how happy you look when we aren't at work.” Aaron smiles back at you, “I have a few good reasons to be.” You smirk as you add, “I thought that scowl was a permanent feature on your face.” Aaron rolls his eyes before lending down to kiss you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Aaron’s hands rest on your hips. Easily getting lost in the moment until Aaron pulls away, “We need to start making dinner.”

You huff pulling away as well, “I suppose we need food to survive.” Aaron chuckles, walking into the kitchen. You follow behind him, “I have a confession.” When Aaron gets into the kitchen, he turns around to face you. His brow already furrowed, worried. You nervously rub the back of your neck, “I don't know how to cook.” Aaron laughs, “You don't? How have you survived this long?” You shrug, “If it has a box with instructions on it, then I’m good but passed that I’m useless.” Aaron chuckles as he starts pulling some things out of the cabinets. You sigh, “In college, when I probably should have been learning how to cook like an adult should… I decided my studies were more worthwhile.” Aaron smirks, watching you, “That is something Reid would say.” You glare at him, crossing your arms, “Well, that was how I became good enough to get hired at the BAU so jokes on you. If I had not neglected to learn adult stuff, I wouldn't have been good enough for you to hire me.” Aaron laughs again, “You have the instincts. I’m sure you would have still made it in.” You roll your eyes and huff again, “When do we ever have time to make actual meals anyway?” Aaron walks over to you, backing you up until your ass hits the counter. You keep glaring at him. Aaron kisses you softly, “I can cook so you'll be fine.” Aaron pulls away and starts working on dinner, “Just don't tell Rossi… He might stop speaking to you or demand you be fired.” You laugh and pull yourself up to sit on the counter, “We could tell him we were dating, and he would cheer us on. We tell him I can't cook, and he would be pissed… Sounds right.” You sit back and watch Aaron cook.

The dinner was delicious. Sitting at the dining room table with Aaron and Jack gave you the feeling you were a part of a family. Maybe you were moving too fast in your mind. You knew Aaron’s history and would never rush him into anything. You'd have a talk with Aaron later about it. But for now, you couldn't help how you felt. Sitting at this small table, having a nice dinner. Watching Aaron, who you've had feelings for since almost three years ago, looks so happy. While Jack cheerfully talked to both you and Aaron. It felt right, and it made your heart feel so full to be a part of it. So you couldn't help but feel like this is where you belonged.

Once all three of you were finished with dinner, you helped clean up the table. Aaron gently grabs Jack from the table, “Time to get you cleaned up.” Aaron carries Jack back towards the bathroom. You take this chance to start doing dishes. Walking over to the dishwasher, you pop it open. You start looking through the cabinets, figuring out where all the dishes are supposed to go. Aaron walks back into the kitchen, “You didn't need to snoop around.” He teases you. You chuckle, “You caught me, trying to find out all your secrets based on what food you buy and how you organize things.” You turn to him and smile. Aaron started walking into the kitchen, “I can take care of that.” You growl and move quickly enough to physically block him from moving further, “Don’t you dare.” You glare up at him, “You cooked, so I’ll take care of this.” Aaron glares back down at you for a moment before he cracks a smile, “Fine.” He leans down and kisses you softly. You smile as you kiss him back. Breaking the kiss so you can get back to the dishes, humming as you put them away. Aaron goes to check on Jack in the tub every now and then. While you're filling the dishwasher with the dirty dishes, the apartment is filled with Jack’s happy giggling and even Aaron’s laughter. The nice domestic feeling was a pleasant change from anything you were used to.

Right as you finished loading the dishwasher, you heard Aaron and Jack talking. You listen to the water start draining as Aaron speaks, “Pajamas and then bedtime for you, buddy.” Jack whines, “I wanna stay up with you.” Aaron sighs, “It’s getting late.” Jack resorts to begging, “Please daddy, just a little bit longer.” Aaron chuckles and caves, “Fine. Once you get dressed, you can pick a movie.” You chuckle to yourself as you hear Jack making excited noises which are shortly muffled by fabric.

Moments later, Jack comes bolting out of the bathroom, wearing superhero pajamas. Jack runs right to you, “Daddy said we could watch a movie.” You crouch down and smile at Jack, “That's exciting.” Jack tackles you with a hug. You scoop him up in a hug as you stand up. Aaron walks in, seeing you two and smiles. Aaron kisses Jack on the forehead before the three of you head into the living room. You set Jack down, “What movie are you gonna pick?” Jack goes over to the small collection of movies, very carefully looking through them. You sit on the couch, getting comfortable. Jack picks a movie and hands it to his dad. Aaron gets it set up while Jack joins you on the couch, taking the middle cushion. When Aaron comes to sit down, he takes the other end of the sofa. Leaving Jack between the two of you. As the movie starts, you rest your arm on the back of the couch. Jack snuggles up to his dad. Aaron then mimics your gesture and rests his arm on the back of the sofa. He then intertwines your arms. You and Aaron exchanged a smile as the movie starts. You lazily glide your fingers over Aaron’s upper arm. Jack picked Captain America, not surprising considering how much he idolized his dad and the association Jack made between the two. The three of you happily watch the movie.

While you and Jack made it all the way through the movie, Aaron fell asleep at some point. When the movie was over, Jack gave a big yawn, rubbing his eyes lazily. You look over at Jack slowly getting up, he looks from his father to you. You give Jack a small smile, whispering, “Mind if I tuck you in bed tonight since daddy is tired?” Knowing how much Aaron worked and how little time he had, you didn't want to wake him. Jack nods at you. You very carefully untangle your arm from Aaron’s. You wait for a second to see if Aaron starts waking up. When he doesn't, you gently reach down and pick up Jack, “Come on, sweetie.” You smile as you see how tired Jack is, already resting his head against your chest as you carry him. Slowly navigating your way to Jack’s room. When you get into his room, you pull the blanket back. Kneeling down and gently helping him into bed. Jack immediately gets comfy, moving around a bit. When Jack settles, you tuck him into bed. You're about to stand up when Jack looks at you and mumbles, “Read to me?” Jack yawns again, “Daddy does.” You smile down at him, “What book are you currently reading?” Jack shakes his head, “We finished.” You hum softly, “Okay, let me find another one.” You move so you can grab a book. Glancing through the titles, automatically ruling out any books you remember Aaron mentioning before. You land on ‘James and the Giant Peach’, grabbing it and sitting back down by Jack's bed. You open the book and start reading to Jack.

Jack only lasted maybe five pages before he officially passed out. You smile and sit for a second quietly, making sure he doesn't start to wake up again. When he stays sound asleep, you re-tuck him in before standing up. Placing a bookmark in the book before setting it to the side. You look down and watch Jack again for another moment. You had seen so many horrible things at work. It was nice to be able to see good, peaceful moments like this as well. You started heading to the door only to get startled and instantly freeze up when you see someone in the doorway. Aaron had a huge smile on his face, his arms were crossed, and he was leaning on the doorframe leading into Jack’s room. You glared at Aaron, annoyed at yourself for not noticing someone had been watching you. You walk to the door, whispering when you get close enough to Aaron, “How long have you been standing there?” Aaron moves out of your way, “Long enough.” You roll your eyes and walk into Aaron’s room. Aaron follows behind you, quietly closing his bedroom door. You stand there and stare at your bag for a moment, not sure how to proceed.

Before you figured out whether Aaron wanted you to stay the night or not, a question just fell out of your mouth, “I… uh… I wasn't overstepping or anything, right?” Aaron stops next to his bed. His features harden a bit, showing that he is studying you. You quickly add, “You were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you… but I know that…” You let yourself just trail off, not sure how to phrase it. You knew that this situation became a bit more complicated now. It was one thing when you hung out and spent time with Jack when you and Hotch were just friends and co-workers. But now that you and Aaron had expressed romantic feelings for each other, the whole dynamic had shifted slightly. Your hand crosses over your body to nervously rub your arm. Aaron’s features set a bit more before softening. Aaron smiles, “No, your fine. Jack likes you, and you're really good with him.” You smile softly, but your nerves win out. You shift back and forth on your feet. Aaron immediately notices. His eyes shift between you and your bag. Aaron was reading into it, “What's wrong? You haven't moved away from the door, and you put your bag as far away from my bed as you could.” You bite the inside of your cheek, avoiding eye contact, “I want to make sure I’m not moving too fast.” You let out a sigh and look back at Aaron, “I know your situation and history… and I…” You adjust yourself again, “I'm totally fine with the speed we are moving at. I mean, we have basically been dating for two years without the direct flirting… and without the whole having sex part... “ A smile twitches on your face before you blush and continue, “So… I want to make sure I’m not moving too fast... for you.” You watch Aaron for what seems like an eternity. Aaron's face softens up, and a comforting smile slides onto his face, “I will let you know if we start moving too fast.” You start feeling better, stepping closer. You smile, “So… You want me to stay the night?” Aaron grins and nods, “If you don't get in this bed, I will pick you up and put you in it.” You chuckle and glare at Aaron, standing your ground. He walks over to you, looking down at you, “Last chance.” You shrug and still don't move. Aaron chuckles and sighs. In one quick motion, he grabs you by your legs. Draping you over his shoulder. You gasp and start laughing, “Aaron!” You playfully hit him on the back. Aaron turns off the bedroom light before he moves to the bed. He gives you a light smack on the ass before gently flipping you onto the bed.

You grin up at Aaron. He smiles back down at you before leaning down. Giving you a soft kiss before sliding into his bed next to you. You roll over to face Aaron, “You remember when we had to share a room on a case?” Even in the dim light, you could see Aaron narrow his eyes at you, “About a year ago? Yeah.” You chuckle, “It was a hotel with a huge bed, so we ended up sharing the bed.” Aaron smirks, “I was hoping you forgot about that.” You grin devilishly, “Kinda hard to forget, waking up with my boss spooning me.” Aaron chuckles, covering his face with his hand. “That was a complete accident.” You grin and tease, “It was a HUGE bed, we slept so far apart. That's one hell of an accident.” Aaron moves his hand and glares at you, “How do I know you didn't move closer to me first in your sleep, and then in my sleep, I ended up grabbing you?” You gently grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a short kiss, “If that's true, then both of us are at fault.” Aaron kisses you back, his hand moves up to hold the side of your face. Letting yourself get lost in the kiss. When you both pull away, you grin up at Aaron, “Still like being the big spoon?” Aaron just smiles in response, so you roll over. He wraps his arm loosely around you, pulling you close to him. Your back pressed against Aaron’s chest. A content hum leaves you as you melt into Aaron’s hold on you. Easily your eyes fall shut. You let yourself enjoy the secure and comfortable feeling as you slip into sleep.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2*–Part 3–Part 4–Part 5 –Part 6

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #gender neutral #criminal minds fanfiction #gender neutral reader #hotch x reader #reader insert #series #aaron hotchner #fanfiction #fanfic #co-conspirators

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gerbiloftriumph · 3 years

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The Silence Between Snowflakes

(also on ao3)

His name was Gwydion--but that wasn't his name. He lived in Llewdor--but that wasn't his home.

Alexander escapes Manannan's grasp and flees to Daventry, hoping he might find a place that he might call home after years of loss and loneliness. While Daventry embraces him, loves him, shows him all the stories it has within it, the country is also suffering under the worst winter in memory. But it might not just be a hard season: there might be something out there, something chasing the lost prince. Something malevolent, intent on destroying the kingdom snowflake by snowflake, spreading a curse across the lands and infecting its king.

(Or: I don't like how King's Quest 2015's Chapter 4 played out, so I've rewritten the whole thing to fit my headcanons and character desires.)

~*~*~

1/8

(1: Found Family)

~*~*~

Gwendolyn was smiling when she walked into his room, but Graham, after decades of being king, could tell when someone’s expression was false. It wasn’t especially hard in this case. He could see tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. She kept up the brave face right until the point when he spoke his first words to her that day: “Do you want to talk about it?”

She froze, one foot in the air. “Talk about...?” she said, with forced nonchalance.

“Whatever you like. But I think you have something specific on your mind.”

And that was all it took for her carefully drawn face to crumple.

“I just don’t get it. Everything seems to make Gart mad these days,” she said, sinking into the chair by the bed. “I can’t seem to do anything right. He keeps yelling at me.”

“Oh, is that what I heard this morning?” Graham tried to get her to smile with him, but she was looking away, twisting the strings of her hood through her fingers like a little net. “Sweetling, can you tell me what he’s yelling about?”

“I don’t wanna say,” she said, her face buried in her knees now as she drew herself up into a ball on the chair. Her voice was muffled. She looked like she was shrinking into herself, like she didn’t want to take up any space at all, like she wanted to hide. She looked so much like Alexander in that moment that Graham felt his breath catch: he could so easily see his son curled up in a corner of the ice cell, shivering and wanting to disappear, certain that he had led the kingdom to destruction just by existing.

"Here, now. Have I ever told you a story about your father?”

~*~*~*~

It was snowing both outside and inside Daventry castle.

Outside: that was perfectly normal. It was the end of the year, the lazy autumn finally reaching its end and the snows starting to build up. This was the first proper, heavy storm. Flakes pelted the windows, which were shuttered against the cold. Colorful tapestries had been drawn over the frames, darkening the corridors but keeping the place relatively cozy and comfortable despite the bone deep cold ache seeping out of the exterior stone walls. Wind whistled through the high crenellations, furiously whipping the flakes high against the towers before letting them fall gracefully into heaps that the royal guards would have to shovel out of the way later.

Inside: well, after eighteen years, that was kind of normal, too. Paperwork snowed up in its own sorts of drifts, covering the floor and audience chairs in the throne room. Paperwork that Graham had been ignoring.

He’d been doing okay. Eighteen years was a long time. Or, at least, so he told himself. The hole that Manannan had left when he’d ripped Alexander from his cradle eighteen years ago, stolen the prince of Daventry, leaving the taste of a broken lullaby on Graham’s lips—that hole never filled, but sometimes it was easier to ignore. If he didn’t think about it. And Graham had Rosella to take care of, his beautiful clever daughter, and Valanice to take care of him, his wise, confident wife, and he in turn cared for her, and for his country, to help the land and the people on it grow, tending to it just as the farmers tended the fields. Daventry needed him to be strong.

And he was strong. Mostly.

But, at the end of the year, when the seasons ticked over and the date changed with a finality and a clang...it all came rushing back. The sharp loss. The searches. The failures. Again and again, the failures. Eighteen years come and gone and nothing to show for them. The wizard had just vanished from the earth with his captive as far as the royal family could tell.

Somehow, at the end of every year, Graham’s arms felt weak, and his head ached, and his heart hurt. Even though Valanice understood, even though she held him close and they wept together for what they had lost, around them the demands of the kingdom kept endlessly pressing. After eighteen years, they had to finally accept that Alexander would never come home.

Rosella, his dear sweet princess daughter, carried them through the winter seasons. She learned closely from her tutors, always asking why the kingdom was doing something one way and not doing something another way. She had suitors to meet, plans to make. She, more than the council, more than the guards, more than anyone, seemed to keep Daventry on track when the year ended and the next year (the next year of failure) began. When Graham felt at a loss, overwhelmed (how could he lead a country when he couldn’t even protect his family), Rosella picked up some of the loss.

She had started attending council meetings too young. At first, it had been cute, even a little funny, to see her golden hair bobbing at the table. She had carried a stack of heavy addenda books to her chair herself so that she could sit on top of them and stare imperiously over the councilors. Graham hadn’t the heart to tell her to leave, and she made her attendance a habit. She started figuring processes out, and over the years she started to offer tolerable ideas, and then impressive ones. Sitting at council so young, so fanciful and creative, she was able to twist policy with fantasy with abandon. Without the careful thought that adults had to put into every sentence. It gave her wild confidence. Planted ideas in her head that Graham was mildly sure weren’t exactly princess-like.

But after all, the Cracker family was new to royalty. Who was to say what a Cracker Princess should be?

It wasn’t fair, perhaps, like it was taking away part of her childhood. But Rosella was determined to do what she wanted, and what she wanted was to be a part of Daventry in every single way like her father. Ruling and adventuring in almost the same breath. She went to council, and then she went tree climbing. And then she came to council the next day with her arm in a sling after daring to climb too high. Royal Guard Number One despaired, unable to keep her in check.

But this year was different. She would be turning eighteen soon. Eighteen was an important age. Eighteen was the age Graham had joined the royal knighthood of Daventry, found his path, changed his future.

Eighteen.

She was distracted, and understandably. She was going for walks more and more often out in the tangled forest paths. Sometimes the family came with her, especially in the springtime when the new year’s fear wore away and fresh life started poking out from the cold dirt. Although, her birthday (her twin Alexander’s birthday) was in the spring, and that brought its own pain.

She was probably on a walk somewhere now, Graham thought. He wandered through the sheaves of paperwork piled high as his nose in some places, flipping a sheet here, reading one there, sticking another in his cloak pocket for closer examination later. He wished he was with her too, with Valanice at his side, breathing that crisp Daventry winter chill.

He daydreamed about the route. The promise of hot chocolate and snowberry pie from Wente’s bakery, maybe a new order of cozy woolen socks and blankets from Acorn to stave off the chill, with a detour to Amaya’s warm smithy to sit by the forge and talk about the latest order of rust-resistant armor on order for the royal guards. And then, maybe, by himself, a longer turn by the old well, past the plaque commemorating a brave knight lost, listening to the crunch and crackle of snow under his boots. Just because. Just in case someone had returned to the underground caverns. A boy (a man, now) with hair as dark as Graham’s had been at that age.

He chased the thought away, settled down in his throne, skimmed another page without reading it, wondered if he could order another cup of cider or if Valanice would swat him for putting more sweets in his rounding tummy. She was here, too, somewhere in the hills of paperwork. It was Valanice who had insisted that they clear some of the work before the year end, who insisted they couldn’t sink into the usual sorrows. She herself had hauled the papers into the throne room rather than his office so that he couldn’t ignore them. She would give him a solid (albeit playful) smack if she caught him with one of Wente’s oversweetened ciders. Maybe later.

“Dad?”

Rosella was back from her walk. She had dragged in some boy with her, some scruffy teen half covered in frozen mud, with snowflakes melting in his hair. The lad was staring at the throne, at the crown on the pedestal nearby, at the magic mirror (fuzzy and dark these last eighteen years as though cursed, although Graham realized with a sudden start that the colors had returned to it sometime recently when he hadn’t been paying attention). The boy was swaying dizzily. He looked exhausted, poor thing. Graham stood, stuffing the addenda back in his cloak pocket. “Welcome, young man, to Daventry Castle.”

“Dad?” Rosella repeated. Her voice cracked.

Valanice’s head poked up from somewhere in the stacks, like a rabbit in a burrow. “Oh! You look dead on your feet, dear boy. Might we offer you some tea, or maybe even a blanket?” She struggled out of the snowdrifts of paper, dress catching on piles and pulling them after her in little avalanches.

“D-Dad?”

That one...that wasn’t Rosella speaking. That was...the boy. The scruffy filthy lost looking...eighteen-year-old boy...with raven black hair....

The smile froze on Graham’s lips, faded. His heart beat in his ears so hard that it hurt, that he couldn’t hear anything else. Couldn’t hear the paper sliding out of its heaps as he knocked it over in his haste to get by, couldn’t hear his footsteps pounding over the carpet, couldn’t hear the sudden burbling laughter pouring out of his own mouth, couldn’t hear Valanice’s shriek and scramble over the rustling, slippery sheets, couldn’t hear Rosella’s frantic explanation, couldn’t hear Alexander’s voice for the first time in eighteen years.

But he felt the boy in his arms as they went for an embrace. Valanice’s arms wrapped around his own as they gently, so gently, afraid of crushing the boy, afraid of frightening him away like a bird, like a ghost, like a dream, held him together.

Alexander squirmed under their grip after a few seconds, apparently not used to contact no matter how soft, and the family backed away, gave him space, let him breathe, and they all stared at each other, unable to think, unable to talk.

“I think...I’m back,” Alexander said, and then his knees buckled beneath him and he went down in a heap, and the whole family reached out and caught him, and everything was different and everything had changed, but the weather didn’t pay any attention, and the snow fell even harder, swirling into drifts and making the royal guards, as unaware as the weather, sigh and clutch their shovels.

~*~*~*~

Days whirled past relentlessly.

Questions, answers, suspicions. Joy, relief, apprehension, fear. No one knew quite what to do. This was unprecedented.

Graham and Valanice hovered anxiously over the boy as he regained his strength. They were impossible to tear away from his bedside, huddled together while the boy slept, fielding more questions from staff and citizens themselves than the boy himself answered. Valanice even took to strapping her old short sword around her hip as though she would have to take up some defense of him (from Manannan, or goblins in the night, or assassins, who could say?). But the more the color returned to the boy’s sallow cheeks the more he looked like his parents. The nervous whispers in the halls about imposters faded away.

“As though I wouldn’t know myself,” Valanice fretted, twirling the ends of her hair on her fingers. “Completely unfounded rumors.”

“Yes, but they don’t know you as well as I do,” Graham said, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

Once he was deemed well enough to talk, Alexander answered everything posed to him, though often without the detail they sought. He said where he had come from (Llewdor) and how he had gotten to Daventry (hidden amongst the crates and baskets of a pirate ship). He said what he had been made to do (keep house for the wizard), but he wouldn’t explain more, and no one wanted to push him.

Except on one detail, a detail that hovered over their heads like a black cloak. The most important detail.

“Will the wizard be coming back?” Royal Guard Number One pressed. He still remembered the attack, still remembered the violence. The fear of that night, and of all nights after.

“If he does, he’ll have a hard time doing much more than scratching,” the prince replied. And he didn’t (or maybe couldn’t) explain more than that. Not yet. No1 seemed frustrated, but a sharp glance from Graham made him subside, for now.

Alexander—sometimes he responded to his name, more often he didn’t, still used to that Gwydion name Manannan had forced on him—was quiet, and tried to take up as little space as possible. But he seemed to want to be helpful. As soon as he was allowed to leave his sickbed, he started searching for chores. He was often found outside trying to feed the chickens, and the servants had once caught him pawing through the broom closet looking for a bucket and mop.

“You don’t have to earn your place here,” Valanice told him gently. She reached out as though she wanted to sweep his unruly forelock, so like her husband’s bouncy curls, out of his eyes, but she held back when he flinched ever so slightly.

“Of course not, Ma’am—er, Mom. Still, though, do you think they need help sweeping the throne room?”

At his first presentation to the public, hastily gathered together as a means to silence rumors still floating around the kingdom, he stood uncomfortably next to his family, shifting awkwardly and blushing at the attention, candlelight glinting off his wary eyes. He ducked out at the first moment possible. No one saw him again for the rest of the night—he was good at finding little nooks and alcoves and burying himself in them, entirely out of sight.

Rosella, though, was determined. The Feys had brought Alexander hot chocolate during his days spent recovering from that terrible sea voyage, and while Alexander wouldn’t admit it, she could tell that he loved it. One chilly evening not long after the presentation, she invited Wente to the castle kitchens. She helped him mix up a fresh batch, getting melty chocolate chunks everywhere in the process (accompanied by No1’s barely muffled groans of annoyance when he walked past and saw chocolate halfway up the walls). She plonked two steaming mugs on a tray, covered them to keep them hot, and went in search of her brother.

Always searching, even after he’s been found.

As it happened, he was in his room.

It was a lovely room, near hers. It was always meant to be his, but it had sat sad and empty and dusty for eighteen years. They’d swept it, cleaned it, and let him have it as a blank canvas to do as he wished with. Which...he hadn’t done much. Guest rooms were richer with cozy decor than the crown prince’s room.

She knocked gently, pushed open the door, and found her brother kneeling on the floor by the bed, looking at something. He twisted to face her, shoving whatever it was behind him, yanked the bedspread down, smiled unevenly. Fear gleamed in his eyes. She leaned sideways, peering around him. A scarf trailed out from beneath the bed.

“Isn’t that the scarf Acorn made you?” she asked.

“Is what?” Alexander said with false cheerfulness. He kicked out behind him, and the scarf vanished under the bed.

“Are you hiding it? You don’t have to, I’ve seen it, it’s a nice one. He makes tons of them, says it helps him relax. You should wear it, it’ll be warm.” She put the tray on the (bare) desk and knelt beside him. She reached forward under the blanket, not actually bothering to look where she was reaching, and he made no move to stop her.

But instead of the scarf, her fingers felt something hard. A box? She gripped it, tugged it, but it was stuck, so she pulled harder. It popped free and caused an avalanche of clattering, rattling, dinging noises under the bed.

She glanced at Alexander, who now looked hopelessly guilty, and studied the box in her hands. It held a silver inkwell and quill, delicately engraved with looping vines. “Normally, people put these on their desk,” she said.

“Do they? I mean. Of course they do. Because they’re normal people. And I’m a normal person, too.”

Rosella pushed the blanket aside, revealing a veritable treasure trove. Gifts glittered in the candlelight, things the kingdom had cheerfully given to its lost prince. Welcome home cards, and cups, and papers, and embroidered pillows, and small tapestries, and hats and gloves, and a cloak, and an ornate dagger, and pressed flowers from warmer times, and other odds and ends that didn’t seem to have a use except in some esoteric way that only Alexander understood. His crown was under there, too, a slim golden circlet he was supposed to wear during official occasions but could otherwise be ignored. She dropped the blanket, hiding the inventory again.

Alexander was twisting his fingers together. “Please, don’t tell...I...”

Rosella took his hand in hers. It was cold. She pulled him so that he sat on the bed next to her, and then she pressed one of the hot chocolate mugs into his shaking fingers. Then, ever so carefully, she leaned against him. Lightly, so he could shrug away if he didn’t want her to touch him. He tensed, and then, just as carefully, leaned back, so that they propped each other up. The twins sipped their hot chocolate together. The torches in the hall snapped and popped, but otherwise the room was quiet.

Once the mugs were empty, Rosella said, “I can help you decorate, if you like. There’re some nice tapestries under there. It’ll be warmer in here with them up. If you don’t like the designs, I can help you swap them.”

Alexander didn’t say anything. He held his empty cup in both hands, swirling the dregs of chocolate.

She stuck her finger in the bottom of her own mug, dragged it through the remnants, and licked it away. Alexander shyly did the same, and then smiled. The first one she’d seen from him, she was sure. His eyes were still a little uneasy, a little guarded and suspicious, but he nodded. “I would like that. It does get a bit cold up here.”

“I think I saw a blanket from Acorn under there, too,” she said. “Maybe we could get that, if you want. It might be more comfortable in here with it.”

Alexander hesitated, then reached under the bed and pulled out the box with the inkwell in it. “And you can show me where to set this up? Like I’m supposed to, like a normal person.”

“Normal in this castle is relative,” she said, putting her hand on top of the box. “It can go anywhere you like. Which can include your desk.”

He thought about it, and then nodded. “That makes the most sense for it. On the desk. And. And, maybe...we can put out the pillows.” He swallowed and backtracked, glancing at the door as though expecting someone to be watching, judging, ready to take away his few treasures again. “Um. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“I think that would be a nice idea. Are you still okay with putting up tapestries tonight?”

“Um. Could...?” he stopped, looked down.

“Could?” she prompted.

“Could we have another hot chocolate, first, and then...you help me pick out the right ones?”

“Absolutely.”

#the goal is for you to read valanice as either vee or neese depending on your personal choices in ch3--she's more wholly here #ohhhh we startin ohhh man we startin i've been talking about doing this for like three years and we finally startin #haven't quite decided a publishing schedule yet even tho it's done #kings quest #King's Quest #fic'ing #ch4 #King Graham #alexander (king's quest)#neese #vee #rosella (king's quest)#you'll see a couple gerbils in written form here and there; i've been nurturing these headcanons for ages #Gwendolyn (king's quest)

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

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From attack mode to big baby mode (YGO 5DS)

From attack mode to baby mode

The first thing Yusei noticed when he woke up was that he'd apparently been moved in his sleep. It was the only way to explain how his normal room had suddenly gotten a make over of having baby blue walls with a series of chibi duel monsters on the walls , Toss in the fact as he sat up he could see he was in a crib, not to mention there being a well stocked changing table against one wall with a diaper pail next to it and well, no shit he'd been moved. One worrying fact about the diaper pail though was that his name was on the thing. 'Last time I checked I don't wear huggies..that's more of a Luna and Leo thing.' He thought and went to stand up and forth as a loud crinkle was heard and there was a bulk between his legs. 'Then again..' A blush came to his face as he reached down and poked at the massive white diaper that had dragon type themed tapes and he realized he was in just his new found padding and a blue t-shirt with 'Lil stinker' on the front in white letters. He also realized as he poked his padding that he was one very soggy little guy. Oddly this didn't seem to bug him as much as it should, most of his discomfort came from the fact he wanted out of the wet diaper then he was in a nursery and dressed like a big baby. "Uh..Hello? anyone there?..I could er.. reallllly do with a diaper change." he called out looking around his apparently new room. there was a baby monitor on a dresser so he was sure someone would be in shortly, and he noticed a toy chest filled with stuffies that oddly were calling his attention. Taking in stock of his new bed, he noted the crib was about the size of a queen sized bed, with a very soft mattress and had more of the chibi duel monsters on the sheets and from the crinkle and crackle he guessed there was a rubber sheet on under the main one. there was a light pink fuzzy blanket that he'd been covered up with and a like wise pink pillow with more then a few wet spots from where he'd been drooling up a river in his sleep. there was also a stuffie of the ancient fairy dragon, looking a little worn but as he saw it a silly grin came over his face and with one hand on the sturdy wooden rail of his crib, he bent down to pick it up. As he did so he let out a HUGH fart though then had the curious feeling of a lot of hot mud filling up the back of his diaper as he tried to figure out what had just happened, looking puzzled and getting his stuffie and hugging it to his chest. 'Huh.. some kinda warm mud spell?' He thought at first then it ever so slowly dawned on him as the smell reached his nose what he'd done. 'I just..I just made ..In..My diaper..With..No control?' He thought, hugging the stuffie close and whimpering. Again oddly he wasn't as embarrassed as he should of been it was more he didn't like the warm squishy feeling or the smell and without any self control started to tear up then bawl. "I went poopie! Wahhh!" he sobbed like a big baby. The door to the nursery opened up and there was Luna, in a set of pink jammies and rushing over to the crib. "Shhh shhh it's ok Yusei, it's alright, big sister is here!" She coo'ed to the distract over sized baby and then she was lowering the bars. Her nose seemed to wrinkle at the smell but she didn't say anything about it, only muttering words of comfort as she helped him out of the crib. Leo followed her after about 20 seconds though he reacted as if he'd hit a wall as the stink hit him and held his nose. "whew! I told you that prune baby food was a bad idea!" He joked and grinned. "Leo! Not now! the baby is upset!" She scolded as she Helped Yusei up onto the changing table, his diaper squishing as he got on there and making him bawl louder. "Shhh it's ok Little Yusei. Big bro and sis are here, Just play with fairy dragon like a good little one and we'll get you alll cleaned up." Yusei had a lot of questions, but none of them came out as he instead just sniffled and whimpered and then nodded. "Otay." He lisped.

One smelly diaper change later during which Yusei had at one point held the stuffie to his face and whined 'stinky') and he was feeling much better in a clean diaper. He'd had a red and pink paci popped into his mouth and forth himself nursing on it lots as Leo and Luna fought over how to dress him for the day. "you got to dress him yesterday, it's my turn to pick." Luna said, hands on her hips. "Yeah but I'm trying to protect my little bro! you're gonna dress him like a sissy again!" Leo huffed, arms crossed. "Don't be jealous just because he can pull off a dress and you can't." Luna teased and made Leo huff and blush. "Besides, Little Yusei loves his pretty dresses don't you?" she added, turning to him for a answer. Hugging his stuffie and in just one of the bulky dragon diapers, Yusei found himself nodding and grinning around his paci, though not sure why. "Fine! I give up! it's gonna be a house of girls!" Leo huffed and threw up his hands in mock frustration. "I guess it does help our little bro is SUCH a cute sissy though." he added and patting Yusei's head. the big baby coo'ed and giggled at the head pat while Luna went and picked out two outfits and held them up for Yusei to pick. The left outfit was a light pink top with a darker pink skirt, with a pair of light pink socks and a panty cover that was light pink with darker pink ruffles on the butt. The right outfit was a full on dress, Light blue with puffy shoulders and a longer skirt section, and came with a pair of white tights. "So Little one, which outfit do you wanna wear today? I know we're going to the park but it's ok if you get these dirty..It's Leo's turn to do the landry." Luna said with a impish grin. "Oh, REAL mature." Leo huffed and gave a playful light punch to his sisters shoulder. Yusei squirmed, looking back and forth at his choices and realizing that while never in a million years would of he normally of wore either of these, right now he was actually having a hard time picking which one he wanted! in the end the pink choice seemed like it's be easier for playing in (Somehow the idea of going to the park like this less scared him and more had him happy and excited) and he pointed at it. "Oh good choice! you're going to be the cutest baby there!" Luna coo'ed. "pffft, like he would have any competition if he went in just his diapers. we've got the cutest baby bro!" Leo said. "heh, true!"

Getting the big baby all dressed up took some doing, Yusei honestly kept getting distracted by his stuffie and was making the twins do all the work. But soon he was looking at his reflection and grinning, letting the paci fall from his mouth (it had since been attached to a ribbon and a paci clip which was then clipped to his top) and he coo'ed at the baby gurl in the reflection. "Pwetty!" he giggled and wiggled his hips back and forth. He'd somehow gone from questioning all of this to more or less accepting his situation, though there was a small part of his mind (and getting smaller by the second) wondering just what the heck was going on. "yeah you are. very pretty." Leo said and came up and patted Yusei's ruffled butt. "I'm man enough to admit when I was wrong, this is a very cu- Eek!" Leo went from talking to yelping suddenly as Luna tugged the back of his blue jammie bottoms open and looked down. "Good boy Leo! only some skid marks!" She praised and Yusei started to giggle. "Lunnnnnaaaaa! Not in front of little bro!" Leo huffed as she had him turn around and poked the front of his pants. "Hmm a little soggy, but much better then last week. somebodies almost ready for big boy undies!" She said. Leo went from beaming with pride to then scowling. "Hey! you said these WERE big boy undies cuz they're washable!" He huffed, hands on his hips. "Their still training pants Leo..but ok, I yield to your logic. go get a dry pair on, you know how you can get when your over excited." Luna said and then kissed his cheek and sent him on his way. '..Apparently she's the only fully potty trained on e in the house.. neat.' Yusei thought and giggled at just how silly the whole thing had been. "Come on Lil sis." Luna said and winked as Yusei giggled. "let's go get some num num's in you. don't want a attack from the grumpy monster just because your hungry." As she spoke she took Yusei's hand and lead him to the kitchen where a high chair was ready for him and got him seated and the tray in place with minimal fuss then got him a bowl of cheerios to munch on and a baby bottle of cold white milk. As he munched away Leo came in, having changed into his normal outfit but Yusei noticed the slight puff in the butt as he bent down to get a box of fruit loops out and pour himself a bowl. while the padded boys had their cereal Luna apparently preferred some Eggo's and the three apparently now siblings munched and mostly ate in silence, only broken when as Leo was drinking the last of his milk from his bowl some of it went down the front of his shirt. "I uh..guess I better go get changed huh?" he asked sheepishly. "Maybe you should start wearing one of Yusei's bibs." Luna teased but winked to let him know she was kidding. "nah, like you said, I'm doing landry today anyways. be back in a flash." Leo said and excused himself from the table. before he was totally out of the room Luna called after him. "Make sure you use the bathroom. I'm not packing extra training pants today!" "yeah yeah!" came his reply.

with herself and the big baby fed Luna had Yusei stay in his high chair while she went and got dressed, then coming back she let him out of the highchair and lead him back to the nursery as they started to pack a large pink diaper bag that read 'fairy princess Yusei' on the side. again this was something that SHOULD of had the young adult blushing but instead he just giggled and coo'ed. "Let's see, we're gonna be out for about 5 hours..so to be safe I'll bring five diapers. I know you don't potty THAT often Lil sis but better safe then sorry." Luna said and Yusei shrugged and popped his paci into his mouth and suckled. Luna grabbed the five diapers then paused and turned around. "Can you show big sis how many five is?" She asked, smiling. Yusei giggled and thought that was a silly question and went to hold up the right amount of fingers and beamed. "Oh so close! that's only three! but it's ok." Luna coo'ed and patted his head. the small tiny part of Yusei's mind was befuddled, how could of he made a mistake like that? the rest, just enjoyed the head pat and coo'ed.

to be continued

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sweetlittlevampire · 4 years

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Rima’s Wangxian Fic Rec

So I’ve compiled these specifically for @inessencedevided , but hey, we’re all here to spread the love, so please, share and reshare to your heart’s content! :D

I’ll start with “Personal Favourites” - there are many more that I would consider a Personal Favourite, but I’ve picked those specifically because I thought you’d enjoy them. AU fics will also be included, because there are some real gems out there, and some still take place in canon universe, but with a twist, so...yeah.

Main pairing is Wangxian; I somehow don’t tend to read much else. ^^;

This thing is going to be loooong, so please find everything under the Read More. And feel free to let me know if a link doesn’t work so I can fix it.

Personal Favourites

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Length: 68713 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.”

A case fic! And one of my personal all-time favourites as well! It is so well-crafted, with an engaging and captivating plot, a TON of OCs who actually do contribute to the story, and a few scenes that are so beautiful I could weep. Got hyped up on twitter, and rightfully so. It’s a delight to read.

Rabbit Heart by Suaine

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length: 56590 words in total

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s summary: “ Wei Wuxian walks his lonely road, but he’s not going to leave Lan Wangji entirely alone. That would be boring. “

Another case fic! Set after the show’s ending, Wei Wuxian goes his way, but leaves the paper man behind to keep Lan Wangji company. I loved this one to pieces - it has intriguing subplots and will make your heart melt several times.

Those are actually thonly two case fics I’ve read so far, but for more, be sure to visit @wangxianfics ‘s Case Fic section. It has many more, and I am planning on reading several of them.

the earth remembered me by remux

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 30321 words so far

Chapters: 2 out of scheduled 4

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “All around him, summer throbs like a heartbeat, undeniably alive. Wounds begin to heal. And Wei Wuxian, with sweat on his brow, feels ripe. Wei Wuxian, with his hands deep in the soil and mud between his toes, remembers something simple and primitive and utterly transformative: It feels good to make things grow. OR: Wei Wuxian’s travel guide to finding your place in the world.”

This fic changed me. Like, literally. It’s still ongoing, but I don’t even care. It’s not a case fic, but I’m 100% sure you’ll love it. It’s pure poetry and catharsis, and it hurts so much, but it’s so necessary. I think I cried several times while reading each of the chapters, and I’m eagerly but patiently awaiting the next one. It follows Wei Wuxian’s journey after he leaves the Cloud Recesses in episode 50 and tells the story of what he does and experiences before he returns back to Lan Wangji. So it’s absically only Wei Wuxian, Lil’ Apple, and the people they meet along his way.

Begotten by ecorie

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 37279 words

Chapters: 6

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “He’s mine.” He echoed what had once been teasingly said in jest, and added, “This is my son.” Against all odds and without a choice, Lan Zhan brings A-Yuan back to Cloud Recesses. Xichen keeps his brother’s secrets, and shields the child when Lan Zhan could not.“

Also known as: Filling in the blanks with everything that happened in those 13 years. I loved this one. Wangji = Best Dad, Sizhui = Best Son.

Canon Universe

(not necessarily canon compliant though)

the soft animal by cafecliche

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 5046 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “You don’t think that’s strange?” he says. His voice, his new voice, is familiar now. But sometimes it almost startles him, hearing it come from his mouth. “It’s been nine months. I’ve used them almost every day. I should know how long these legs are.” (Or: Wei Wuxian has a plan to train Mo Xuanyu’s body. The results aren’t quite what he expects.)“

A very interesting take on Wei Wuxian, and how he comes to terms with his new body. Something I had not seen previously explored, and I really loved how the author handled it.

Come let me love you (Come love me again) by obsessivereader

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 9105 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “The notes from the dizi cut off as Wei Ying goes absolutely still. Over the quiet whisper of the wind through grass, Lan Wangji can hear the rapid beat of his own heart. Wei Ying's hands drop to his side slowly, so slowly, as though time has slowed down for both of them. He turns, a look almost of fear on his face. And then...And then, Wei Ying smiles—slow and beautiful and warm and relieved as though Lan Wangji standing before him is a treasured dream fulfilled. "Lan Zhan," he breathes.“

A “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic. I’m kind of a sucker for those. This one is very sweet and tender; I absolutely loved the interactions between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and the gentleness of it all. I also adore the song it’s been titled after (”Annie’s Song” by John Denver, if you’re curious).

Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length: 107397 words in total

Chapters: 30

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “There was a ghost that haunted the decks of Lotus Pier, it was said. If you stepped across the wooden planks at night, walked along the endless docks and flying purple banners, he would appear. He was always in darkest black, dressed as specter and shadow. In the emptiness where a face should be was a thick fog, features washed away and leaving behind only glimmering red eyes. He looked ferocious as a ghoul, it was said. Jin Ling thought he looked sad.“

Full disclosure - I am five chapters into this thing, and I am already recommending it, I am that intrigued. There is some serious Yunmeng Bros stuff in there which I think you are going to love, and the interactions between said ghost and Jin Ling are - aaaah! Cannot wait to continue!

wrap your name tight around my ribs by sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 8728 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ In true Wei Ying fashion, his return comes with a dose of mischief. “

Another “What happens after the end of the last episode?”-fic, with a good dose of Wangxian family feels. In fact. the whole thing is a huge chunk of feels. A very soft, delicate, and sweet fic, which will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

please linger by sasukepositive

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 5636 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ When A-Yuan begins crying, Lan Wangji knows it makes sense. He understands that crying will not harm him — he logically knows that. However, A-Yuan’s little face turns red so quickly that it leaves Lan Wangji a little panicked.“Ah,” he begins helplessly, stepping forward in an attempt at — something. He doesn’t know what. “It’s okay.” or: sometimes the man you love assures you that his mysteriously acquired child will nap until he gets back from shopping. for sure. “

If you liked the Dad Date Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had with A-Yuan in Yiling, then you’ll love this one. It’s a fill-the-gaps fic in which Lan Wangji returns to Yiling several times to see Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan. Still follows canon events though, hence the bittersweet ending, but it is still so so lovely.

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length: 28385 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “ The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did. “

Another one of tehse post-show-canon fics. I love everything feyburner writes, and this was the first fic of theirs I came across. I love the feeloings described in it, and just how sweet it is. One of those fics in which the way the mature part is executed just makes the whole thing even sweeter.

Alternate Universe

(but sometimes within the canon universe?)

Merman Lan Wangji!AU by FleetofShippyShips ( @fleetofshippyships here on tumblr)

- which is a series of connected fics, and not one long fic with chapters, hence why the formatting is different here. 5 entries so far; ungoing. Teen And Up Audiences

...which is definetely a personal favourite of mine, - you might have noticed, since I’ve been drawing a ton for this particular AU. But since I don’t know if yu’re into merfolk!AUs I didn’t list it up there with the personal favourites.

It is following canon so far, only that Lan Wangji is, as the title suggests, a merman - with secrets.

I adore the atmosphere of this series so much, and the way Zoe writes it is just so beautiful. It’s a story in which I could live, and if you’re in for the ride, I can assure you that there will be many surprises to come.

Welcome to Gusu by perkynurples ( @bilboo here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 30853 words so far

Chapters: 5 so far

Status: Ongoing

Author’s Summary: “ Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, LAKE MONSTERS “

Annie wasn’t lying when she said this fic has it all. What started as some kind of crack fic turned into something beautiful that completely owns my heart. The interactions between the characters are so heartwarming, and while I sense that some major drama is going to occur soon, I also know that this will eventually have a happy ending. It’s delightful, and it does belong to my personal favourites as well.

Some of You by tangerinechar

Rating: Mature

Warning: N/A

Length: 60640 words

Chapters: 7

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji gets drunk and tweets a love confession, Wei Wuxian panics, and all of twitter decides to matchmake Lan Wangji and his mystery guy. “

A social media fic! And a hilarious one at that! If you’re in the mood for an extra panicky, extra obnoxious Wei Wuxian? This is the fic for you. It has one of the sweetest love confessions ever. There’s some background Xicheng too.

Window Shopping by thunderwear

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length: 18000 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji didn't look out across the other apartment building often, but now, as he scooped up his escaped rabbit, he looked over only to see a piece of paper taped to the window of the apartment across from him. It was written on purple construction paper in big block letters, like a child had written it. WHAT'S YOUR BUNNY'S NAME???“

I did already rec this one to you, but WHO CARES? A Quarantine fic! The first one I came across, and I loved it! A friend of mine thought Wei Wuxian was OOC, but I disagree - he didn’t exactly grow up in the same circumstances as in canon, and his life situation isn’t 100% the same, so I still think it fits. A-Yuan makes an appearance, and the interactions between Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and the boy are just so very cute!

Home is Where the Heart is by Alipeeps ( @alipeeps here on tumblr)

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 10036 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Wei Ying’s expression is tight and unhappy, his entire body held rigidly away from Lan Zhan.He doesn’t look at Lan Zhan as he says, “You don’t have to worry, Lan Zhan, I’m never going to touch you.”The distaste in Wei Ying’s voice makes Lan Zhan’s blood run cold.“Just because our families have arranged this marriage, we don’t have to be together… like that…” Wei Ying’s mouth twists unpleasantly. “It can be a marriage in name only. A...” he swallows, looking like he might be sick, “...a business arrangement.”

Arranged Marriage AUs are also one of my weaknesses, especially if the two soon-to-be-married people are actually in love with each other but have yet to confess, This one does the trick. It’s modern era with no cultivation, and the mutual pining is REAL in this one.

what else is there? by mme_anxious

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 12917 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Did you hear the terrible news? Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian has gone beyond the pale! He has murdered Hanguang-Jun!”This is the first thing the swan hears flying over Yiling, and it sets him to hissing. It’s the kind of sound he would never make as a human, but as a swan—a mute swan— hissing is the only form of communication available to Lan Wangji. So he hisses. -Jin Guangyao transforms Lan Wangji into a swan. Only an act of love will break the curse.”

A fairytale!AU based on Swan Lake. You might have seen my Swangji drawing; this is the fic it was drawn for. It takes place in canon universe and is super lovely and magical. I may have cried a bit.

all your life you’ll dream of this by Attila ( @attilarrific here on tumblr)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: N/A

Length: 22668 words

Chapters: 1

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: “Lan Wangji should refuse. He should. He looks back down at the mask. Beneath it is the soft creamy paper of the invitation. He could present this at the door and slip into the palace and—“Go see him, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says quietly, and Lan Wangji feels his resolve crumble beneath him”

Another fairytale!AU - this time, it’s loosely based on Cinderella, with Lan Wangji as Cinderella and the forehead ribbon as glass slipper. Such a lovely lovely fic. May also have cried a bit; it’s heartfelt and magical and so warm and sweet.

Love wakes me by dea_liberty

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Length: 42812 words in total

Chapters: 4

Status: Completed

Author’s Summary: "It starts with a bet. All mistakes, Wei Wuxian thinks, start with a bet. It’s starts with a bet and ends with Wei Wuxian losing everything. Nine years ago, Wei Wuxian made a bet with disastrous consequences. Now, he is part-owner of the popular and eclectic Yiling Cafe, years and miles away from his old life, making the best of things and trying to leave the past where it belongs. When Lan Wangji walks into his cafe by accident, Wei Wuxian finds himself doing what he thought he'd never do again; reclaiming some small part of his past, and hoping for a future he'd given up as lost.”

If someone had told me that I would fall head over heels in love with a Coffee Shop AU, of all things? I would have laughed...yet here we are. I’ve read this thing in one sitting and cannot stop thinking about it. I absolutely have to reread it; it’s slowly but surely becoming one of my personal favourites.

#Wangxian #Fic Red #The Untamed #MDZS #CQL

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devil-in-the-d3tails · 4 years

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It’s the End of the World As We Know It - Chapter 5

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 5,453

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing, drug use, alcohol consumption

a/n: thank you for reading! <3

- It’s Loud in Here -

When the three of you make it back and hide your car in the same place as before, the gym is empty, except for an excited Indie, who comes bounding up to greet you, Bokuto, and Kuroo with kisses and a wagging tail. You’re a little alarmed at the lack of Kenma and Oikawa, but Kuroo and Bokuto aren’t too worried.

“Kenma’s probably wandering around the school, he does that sometimes. And Oikawa… eh, I dunno, he probably bothered Iwaizumi enough to hitch along with him and Akaashi.” Kuroo explains, and flops down on his bed. “We can move all your stuff in here after a quick nap.” He declares, and you’re in agreement with him-- you desperately need to shower, so you retrieve your toiletries from the car, and head off to the girls’ locker room.

Unfortunately, the water doesn’t get warm at all, but you can’t find it within yourself to care at the moment. You watch as the water cascades down your sore body-- you’ve been manhandled way too much today, and you can already feel the bruises forming around your ribs where that creepy red-head grabbed you. Squirting shampoo into your hair, you furiously scrub at your scalp in an attempt to clean yourself of all the shit you just went through this morning.

The image of your dad’s car won’t leave your mind-- it’s like you see it right in front of you every time you blink, a constant image in the back of your mind that you know you won’t be able to shake. How could someone just disappear like that? And why was it only the adults? Callie had said that her sister disappeared, but her sister was at least thirty…

Your head hurts, but you can’t stop thinking about it. Is there a way to reverse whatever happened? Is there an age limit as far as who disappears? Is it aliens?

You laugh a little to yourself at that thought. While you run the conditioner through your hair, you brush it out, too, and you sigh in absolute happiness as you wash your body with your usual soap from home. It’s pretty nice taking a shower in these dreary locker rooms, since nobody else is here to bother you.

Having washed hair and a washed body truly makes you feel like a new person, and you sigh happily after drying off and slipping on fresh, warm clothes. You even pull on your fuzzy socks, and as you pad back into the gym, you’re met with Kuroo and Bokuto, passed out on their respective beds, and you chuckle to yourself, opting to take a nap on Akaashi’s bed for the time being.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but Kenma has since returned, as you’re woken up by the sound of pages turning. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes, to find Kenma sitting on his bed, munching on some chips while he reads the book in his lap. He looks up at you, blinks in greeting, and goes back to reading.

“Um… hey,” You say awkwardly, as Bokuto and Kuroo are still very much asleep. Kenma looks up at you again, and you feel sort of scrutinized under his intense, calculating gaze.

“Hey,” He responds, and again, goes back to reading.

You frown-- you don’t want to bother him, so you decide to get the rest of your shit from your car. Bokuto and Kuroo have done enough heavy lifting for today, you decide, as you exit the gym to retrieve your groceries, bed, and all the other supplies you packed.

Kenma’s gaze follows you occasionally on your multiple trips to and from the gym. You pretend not to notice, because you have no idea if you should talk to him or just ignore him-- he seems to only really like Kuroo, and “like” is a strong word for him.

You huff as you stand in front of your open trunk, your mattress resting on top of two of the folded down backseats. Hands on your hips, you narrow your eyes as you work out the logistics of hauling this thing inside-- it’s just a twin bed, really not that heavy, and the gym is literally like five feet away. But with a sigh, you look down at your feet, battered shoes covered in mud and grass-- it hasn’t completely stopped raining all day, though it’s only drizzling right now. You know that if you try to drag your mattress inside by yourself, you won’t be able to hold it completely off the ground, so one side will get all muddy and gross.

You bite the inside of your cheek-- it’s probably better to wait for Kuroo and Bokuto to wake up. They’ll be glad to do manual labor for you, and you’ll be glad to let them show off or whatever. It’s a win-win!

You reach up to close the trunk when Kenma’s voice pipes up behind you.

“Need help?”

You turn in surprise, eyes wide. Did he just talk to you? And, offer you help?

Kenma leans against the open gym door, arms crossed, same expression as always. “You’re letting in all the cold air from outside.”

Oh. He just wanted you to hurry up, not actually help you because he was feeling nice. You laugh a little to yourself, and nod at him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

The two of you haul your bed inside with little trouble-- Kenma’s actually stronger than he looks! When it flops to the floor between Kuroo’s and Akaashi’s beds, the dark-haired boy finally stirs awake. His head was sandwiched between two pillows, you realize, and snort out a laugh.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” You tease, and Kuroo just grumbles in response, still not completely awake as he squints up at you and Kenma.

“You moved your bed in here?” Kuroo mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

You nod, and gesture to Kenma. “Yeah, Kenma helped me.”

“Really?” Kuroo huffs out a laugh. “Dang Kenma, are you actually warming up to someone?”

“She was letting cold air in ‘cause she was taking so long.” Kenma rolls his eyes, and flops back on his own bed to continue to read.

“Thank you, Kenma,” You say sweetly, and lay on your bed with a happy sigh, wrapping yourself up in the blankets you brought from home.

“Man, I miss waffles.” You complain aloud, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thought process to lead you to that statement was: raining -> warm, lazy mornings -> mornings = breakfast -> breakfast = waffles, but waffles = not here anymore because toasters don’t work anymore. Maybe you could roast one over a fire? But all the frozen ones are probably weird now because they’ve been thawing out for days on end.

Kuroo laughs beside you. “Like, Eggos?”

“Yeah,” You sigh wistfully.

“I miss Crunchwrap Supremes.” Kuroo says, and it’s your turn to laugh.

“I miss Baja Blast.” You agree with a sigh.

Kuroo groans, and you meet his gaze with a grin. “Man, don’t torture me like that.”

“Maybe we can raid a Taco Bell? Baja Blast doesn’t expire, right?” You say, and Kuroo nods thoughtfully as he tucks his hands behind his head.

“If we’re gonna preserve one thing from the remnants of society, it better be fuckn’ Baja Blast.” Kuroo says, and you crack up at that.

“Yeah, fuck the pyramids or whatever--” You say,

“Dude, fuck the pyramids!” Kuroo interjects, and you laugh even more.

“-- fuck the pyramids, for real!” You smack your first into your palm. “All my homies hate the pyramids.”

“Society has advanced past the need for pyramids.” Kenma says from his place on his bed. You and Kuroo’s eyes light up, and you both sit up to hook Kenma with gleeful expressions, elated that he’s joining in on the fun. Kenma looks up from his book, and smiles a little as you and Kuroo laugh along with the joke.

Your rambunctious laughter wakes up Bokuto, who sits up with a start, even though his eyes are still squinty as he slowly regains consciousness.

“Baja Blast…?” He mumbles, and you and Kuroo can’t help but crack up even more at Bokuto’s delayed response-- even Kenma laughs, and as the rain falls heavier outside, the four of you go around naming all the things you miss from before the world ended. Video games, heaters, washing machines, all kinds of fast food, TV shows you’ll never know the ending to, movies that will never be released-- it’s all a little sad, but it’s fun to reminisce with the three guys as they crack jokes and raid your grocery haul for snacks.

“Awww, man, remember those things at like, huge malls where you could go in and fake sky-dive?” Bokuto says, and you and Kenma exchange a glance of wild confusion.

“No??” You say, and Kuroo and Bokuto exclaim in surprise.

“What?! You never went on one of those things?” Bokuto is astonished, but so are you, because you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“How does that even work?” Kenma wonders, and glares at Kuroo as the latter steals some chips from him with a grin.

“You go into this like, giant cylinder--” Kuroo starts, but Bokuto cuts in as he leaps to his feet.

“Yeah, and there’s this grate floor, and a giant fan underneath you, and you wear like, goggles and shit, and then they turn on the fan and you just get fuckn’ blasted in the air for like five minutes.” Bokuto howls with laughter, “I remember one time, me and Akaashi tried it, and holy shit-- his face--!” Bokuto can’t continue, he’s laughing so hard.

You all three join in, because Bokuto’s joy is contagious, and you can kind of picture the situation-- the prospect of seeing Akaashi as anything but calm and collected is hilarious to you.

The sun begins to set, and you’re roped into a game of toss-the-volleyball with Kuroo and Bokuto, while Kenma watches on in mild amusement.

“Check this out!” Bokuto yells as Kuroo tosses the ball up. The gray-haired boy grins wide, eyes fixated on the ball, and he leaps, only to hit the ball over an imaginary net to send it careening to the polished wood floor with a loud SMACK!

“Woah!” You exclaim, eyes wide as Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride.

“That is called a ‘spike’.” He says, hands on his hips.

You raise your eyebrows, deciding to humor him. “No waaay, tell me more!”

“Okay!” Bokuto excitedly retrieves the ball, and tosses it back to Kuroo. “Send me another one!”

“Man, I’m not a setter.” Kuroo huffs, sending a quick glare to Kenma as he tosses the ball up to Bokuto once again, who leaps up, and powerfully hits the ball so that it flies parallel to where the net would have been, and another loud SMACK! fills the gym.

“Hey, hey, hey!!” Bokuto exclaims proudly as he lands on the floor.

“Dang!” You exclaim, actually very impressed with that move. “How’d you do that?!”

“Ahh, there’s no explaining talent.” Bokuto laughs, “I’m just kiddin’! Basically, I just jump up and hit the ball like, bam! Instead of, wham! You know?” He nods, hands on his hips, and you share a quick glance with Kuroo, who just shakes his head with a smile.

“That’s kickass.” You concede, and Bokuto seems to glow with your praise.

“Hey, maybe we can show you--”

“Yoho~!”

Bokuto is cut off by a cheery Oikawa pushing the gym doors open, a dazzling smile on his handsome face like always. As Oikawa enters, he pulls his hood off of his head-- how is his hair still perfect?!-- and a soaked Akaashi and Iwaizumi follow, carrying about five bags total.

“Welcome back!” You say, inwardly relieved to see their safe return. You didn’t want to admit it earlier, but you were growing more worried with every hour that passed and they didn’t show up.

The three guys set down the bags in the designated “stuff” corner of the gym, and you, Kuroo, and Bokuto walk up to meet them there, with Kenma trailing behind.

“Well, we found some pretty useful shit this time.” Iwaizumi says proudly, and fishes around in one of the bags for a moment before procuring some walkie-talkies.

“Walkie-talkies?” You and Bokuto exclaim at the same time.

“Radios?” Kuroo corrects, and you and Bokuto roll your eyes.

“Yes to both.” Akaashi says as he helps Iwaizumi hand them out.

“This way, we can communicate easier when we go searching in L.A.” Iwaizumi says as he hands you yours.

“Oh? Are you coming with us now?” You say with a grin.

You don’t miss the quick blush that dusts Iwaizumi’s cheeks as he quickly looks away with a frown. “Oikawa begged me to.” He explains.

“Um? No, I convinced you.” Oikawa defends himself.

“Whatever. Point is, after what happened to you, it makes sense that we should all stick together. Splitting up is a bad idea, especially since… y’know, people are still disappearing.” Iwaizumi says, and a solemnity passes over the group.

Oikawa clears his throat. “Here, I got this for you.” He hands you a bag of cotton balls and nail polish remover. Your eyes widen-- you looked everywhere in the grocery store for this stuff, but couldn’t find it a few days ago.

“T-thank you!” You say as you take the items from Oikawa. He gives you a dazzling smile in response, which brings a blush to your cheeks, having all his attention on you.

“Your nails were looking pretty bad this morning, I noticed you picking at them-- so I figured this would help!” He explains, to which Iwaizumi punches him in the arm. “Ow! Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“Gee, thanks.” You deadpan, your appreciation now replaced with irritation. You decide to shrug it off, though-- this shows that his heart was in the right place, at least.

“We haven’t even shown you guys the best thing,” Oikawa recovers pretty quickly, and reaches into his own bag, to reveal a plethora of Four-Lokos and White Claws. “It’s time to get fucked up. It’s the least we deserve.”

“Dude!” Kuroo exclaims, and fishes around in his pocket to pull out his hefty sum of weed, to which Oikawa’s eyes light up. The two boys grin at each other, and shake hands warmly at their shared train of thought.

[-]

The boys lead you to a barren spot behind the gym outside, where a fire pit has been set up. You’re surprised at how quickly Kuroo and Iwaizumi can get a fire started, considering it’s still cold as hell, even though the rain has stopped for now. Pretty soon, they’re warming a kettle of water over the crackling flame, and you and Kenma are sitting side-by-side underneath one of your blankets on the chairs you brought outside, while the rest of the guys huddle around the fire in their own chairs.

Instant ramen is passed out, and soon, your hands are warmed by the boiling water heating up your styrofoam cup of noodles. You blow on it gently, and soon, all of you are wolfing down the most delicious instant noodles you’ve ever eaten in your life.

After dinner, the fire is put out, and you all retreat back inside the gym just as the rain begins to pick up again.

“Aight, I don’t have too much paper, so we’re just gonna pass it around, is that cool?” Kuroo asks as you all settle on the floor, sitting on your respective pillows in a circle. He’s already preparing the joint, packing it so it’s a little thicker than what you’ve seen in the movies. After expertly rolling it up, he licks the edge of the paper, and seals it before lighting it. He takes a drag, and exhales happily as Oikawa, sitting next to him, cracks open a Four Loko. You’ve decided to go with a White Claw for now, since you’re a bit of a lightweight on account of your inexperience.

Kuroo passes the joint to Oikawa first, who passes it to Iwaizumi, then Kenma, then Akaashi, and then you. You frown, and laugh a little as you sheepishly ask, “Um, how do I do it?”

Bokuto laughs beside you, and gently takes it from you. “You just breathe in, hold it for a second, and then breathe out.” He shows you, and coughs a little at first, waving away the smoke. “Here, try!”

You nod with a smile, and do as he says: wrap your lips around the blunt, breathe in, hold it--

You almost cough up a lung on step two. The boys around you laugh, not making fun of you, just amused at your naivete.

“Try again, try again.” Oikawa encourages, and you do, and actually manage to do a successful hit. You’re still coughing a little, your eyes watering, but you’re having fun.

You take a sip, and the blunt is passed around once again.

“So, you got all your stuff back, I see!” Oikawa says as he takes another hit. “What happened there?”

“Shit was insane, dude.” Kuroo shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, those assholes that scared her before were hiding out in Asahi’s house!” Bokuto says, “They had guns, man!”

“What?” Iwaizumi exclaims right as he’s about to take a drag.

“Yeah, it was insane!” You chime in after taking a few more sips of your drink. “That red-head grabbed me right as I was about to run back into the car, but then I punched him!” You say proudly, and hold up your bruised knuckles as proof.

“Yeah, and you know what she said when she did it?” Kuroo laughs, “She goes, ‘Fuck outta here!’”

The entire group is impressed and joins in on your laughter, and you just blush with a shrug.

“What can I say? I’m a badass.” You toss your hair over your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” Kuroo affirms warmly, and you share a smile with him for a moment before Akaashi hands you the blunt.

“He was a redhead?” Kenma pipes up, and you nod as you exhale. The musky smell of weed is starting to stink up the whole gym, but you don’t really care. You’ve only taken two hits, but you’re already feeling warm and tingly-- your mind is a little fuzzy, and paired with your drink, you’re generally just feeling amazing.

Kenma must’ve said something, because he’s looking at you expectantly.

“Hm? Sorry.” You say and sit up straighter.

“I said, he sounds like a kid from my history class. I think his name’s Tendou?” Kenma repeats, and glances at Kuroo, who just shrugs.

“I don’t know a lot of juniors.” He says, taking another glug of his drink.

Kenma just hums thoughtfully, and takes a hit before passing it back to Kuroo.

“Okay.” Oikawa says with a grin, and turns to hook you with his chocolate brown gaze. “So, how come we’ve never seen you before? You went to Karasuno, right?”

“Yeah,” You laugh sheepishly, and are surprised to find you’ve already finished your drink. “I wasn’t really part of any clubs or anything. I mean, I went to Yearbook Club every once in a while, ‘cause I liked to take pictures.”

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Oikawa asks.

“No,” You say with a big sigh. “Don’t hate me!”

“Ugh!” Oikawa exclaims in disgust. “That’s it, get her out of here.”

You laugh along with the others, and decide to play along with the bit. “Alright, bet.” You say, and rise to your feet, but immediately stumble back down, right into Bokuto’s surprised lap.

“Woah--hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaims, his voice jumping a few octaves as he flings his arms above him to avoid touching you in any disrespectful way.

You dissolve into a pile of giggles, and reach up to snatch the blunt from Bokuto’s hand, taking another drag before leaning back to look upside down at Kenma, passing it to him, who grins down at you.

“Did your boyfriend disappear, too?” Oikawa asks out of nowhere, and you look over in time to see Iwaizumi smack Oikawa’s arm. “Ow! Come on, we were all curious!”

You just huff out a laugh, and sit up with a bit of trouble, leaving behind a furiously blushing Bokuto.

“I didn’t have a boyfriend. Never really have, ‘cause I don’t count elementary school.” You answer with a shrug, and glance at Kuroo, only to find him staring at you intently. You raise an eyebrow, exuding confidence as you smirk at him. “What?”

Kuroo just blinks, and shrugs as he takes the blunt from Kenma. “Nothin.” He says, and takes a drag, finally breaking eye contact with you.

The blunt is passed around-- you’ve lost count by now-- and Kenma suddenly stands, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I almost forgot-- I found something really cool today in one of the classrooms.” He says, and stumbles over to his bed to reach into his backpack, and pulls out an actual boom box.

“Wooaaahhh!” Kuroo and Bokuto say at the same time as Kenma brings it over.

“There’s even some cassette tapes for it,” Kenma says, and puts the boom box in the middle of the group, then pulls out some cassettes from his jacket pocket to view the options. You lean over to Kenma, across Bokuto’s lap-- which makes him blush again-- and you’re pleasantly surprised by the options.

“Dude, they have Black Sabbath?” You exclaim. “Where did you even find this?”

“Mr. Little’s classroom.” Kenma answers, and grins when he finds a specific tape. “Got it. Check this out.” He inserts the tape, and presses play.

After a second, ‘hot girl bummer’ by blackbear starts playing, much to everyone’s surprise.

“What the-- how did that get on a cassette?” Oikawa exclaims, and Kenma grins.

“I made this tape for Mr. Little earlier this year to prove to him that newer music is pretty good-- but he said he’d only listen to it if it was on a cassette. So, I made a cassette tape with a lot of modern songs on it.” He explains, looking down at the boom box with a smile, like it’s his little baby-- his creation that has managed to survive past the end of the world.

“Kenma!!” You coo, pouting your lip out as you look at him with so much unfiltered adoration. “This is so cool! And this is so exciting! Thank you so much!!” Tears actually well up in your eyes, and Bokuto quickly hurries to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Oh, God!! Oh, no! Why are you crying?!” He exclaims, cradling your face in his hands to bring your gaze up to his.

“I’m just--” You sniffle. “I’m really happy, and like, I’ve just had such a shitty day-- or like, life, lately. And, like--” You sniffle again, and wipe away some snot with your sleeve as you turn to look at the group of cross-faded guys around you, who all look extremely worried at your sudden cry-fest. “It’s just… I care so much about you guys, and we barely know each other! But, like… I don’t know, you guys have just taken care of me, and you’ve been so nice, and I just… I’m just really happy!” You babble, and in an instant, Bokuto wraps you up in a bone-crushing hug.

“We care about you too!” Bokuto affirms, and then suddenly hauls you up to your feet, still hugging you fiercely. He spins you around with a flourish, and you’re extremely disoriented, but happy nonetheless. “Let’s dance!” He says, and grabs your hands, and starts swaying around in a really dumb way.

You laugh, but join in anyways-- and soon, the entire group is dancing like idiots. The entire experience is a bit of a haze, as your head has grown fuzzier, your limbs heavier, and your heart lighter. You feel so at ease with yourself, like you could say or do anything, and you wouldn’t have any regrets. You really should’ve smoked weed a lot earlier in life if it made you feel this good.

The songs that are on Kenma’s playlist are really good, and really fun to dance to-- you think for a moment that this experience is even better than prom, apocalypse included. You don’t quite feel your feet as you stumble and dance around, but pretty soon, you feel a really strong urge to pee. Two-- or was it three?-- White Claws seem to have gone right through you, so you mumble something about needing to use the bathroom and that you’ll be right back to Iwaizumi. Or maybe it was Akaashi.

In no time at all, you’re relieved and washing your hands at the sink. Being in the school bathroom with the lights off is once again a strange experience-- especially since you’re very high and pretty drunk. This moment sort of feels like a liminal space-- a save point in a video game, so that you can collect your fuzzy thoughts, only to watch them float down the drain with the water that’s running over your hands. You’re not sure how long you watch the faucet run, but you’re amazed at what you’re seeing-- indoor plumbing really is the most underrated thing about society.

“Man, fuck the pyramids!” You laugh to yourself as you remember your jokes with Kuroo earlier. Man, he really is cute. All of them are-- you’re really the luckiest girl in the end of the world. You finally turn off the faucet, and float out of the bathroom, out to the dark hallway that leads back to the gym.

You’re surprised to find Kuroo leaning on a wall, hands in his pockets. He looks up when he catches sight of you, and smiles sweetly. He doesn’t grin, or smirk like usual-- he looks like a young boy right now, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” You say, surprised at your quiet voice and how it seems to cut through the silence of the hallway loudly. The sound of music is still coming from the gym, but this hallway still feels very removed from reality, like a little pocket that only you and Kuroo exist in.

“Hey,” He says, and licks his chapped lips as he looks away, and rubs the back of his neck. “Um, sorry, just wanted to check on you ‘cause you were taking a while.”

“Ohhh,” You say, and smile sheepishly. “I was just… watching the water.”

“Cool.” Kuroo nods, and you both stare at each other for a moment. Kuroo’s eyes are a little glazed, a little red, and you’re sure you look the same. He swallows, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. “Um, I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh? For what?” You’re surprised, to say the least. He helped you out so much today-- he actually risked his life for you (and your groceries).

“For doubting you.” He says, and shoves his hands in his pockets even further. “Earlier, when I didn’t tell you your groceries were in Asahi’s house. I didn’t tell you ‘cause I didn’t think you could pull off getting them back. And, like… I dunno, that wasn’t cool of me. So, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And, that, uh…” He shrugs, and finally glances at you. “I believe in you.”

You’re struck dumb as your mouth drops open in surprise-- you’re not sure what to say. Even if you were sober, this would surprise you. You quickly close your mouth, and realize you need to say something, because you don’t want Kuroo to feel weird, or like you hate him.

But, you can’t think of anything to say at the moment-- so, you follow your feet as you walk up to him, and proceed to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his broad, warm chest.

“Thank you, Kuroo.” You say, and squeeze him a little tighter when his arms wrap around you after a moment. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, and laughs out a sigh of relief. You two stay like that for a while-- you could fall asleep standing up, with how at peace you feel right now. Your high, combined with Kuroo’s warmth, and how safe you feel bundled up in his arms, makes the world melt away. With a happy sigh, you pull away a little bit to look up at him with a dumb, happy smile. He looks down at you, just as dumb, and just as happy. “Hey, I believe in you, too. Even though you piss me off sometimes.”

You feel the rumble of Kuroo’s laugh from his chest, and you lean your cheek into his hand as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m always gonna piss you off.” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes with a grin. You watch as he licks his lips again-- it’s a subconscious thing to do, a normal tick that anyone and everyone does, but for some reason, watching Kuroo do it right now, it’s the most captivating thing for you. Your gaze slowly travels from his lips to his bright, hazel eyes, only to find that he’s been gazing at you just as long as you’ve been gazing at him. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and seems to have a stream of conflicting thoughts go through his head, but you’re very sure of yourself as you reach up, and cradle his face between your hands. You gently rub your thumb back and forth over his cheek-- he feels so warm, and it’s only then that you notice that he’s blushing. One of your hands travels further, into his dark hair, which you’re surprised to find, is extremely soft.

You giggle then, which surprises Kuroo, and you bite your lip as you try to hold back your laughter. “Your hair’s always so messy.”

Kuroo huffs out a laugh, and rolls his eyes. “Gimme a break, it’s the end of the world.”

Your smile just grows wider, and you can’t help but stare at him-- something about this moment makes you feel so vulnerable, but so incredibly safe. You wonder if Kuroo feels the same-- and he’d never tell you, but he does (just because it’s you).

Kuroo gently reaches up to grab your wrist, and pull it from his hair. Your hand drifts from his grasp, to trail your fingers along the lines of his palm-- you watch your fingers gently ghost over his skin, and he watches, too, completely engrossed in your movements. Somehow, his fingers ghost over your own, and travel to your bruised knuckles. His fingers ghost over the blue and purple skin, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth down as his eyebrows knit together the longer he stares at your bruised hand. You lazily intertwine your fingers with his, and look back up at him as he looks back to you. You’re both holding your breaths-- for the first time, Kuroo looks nervous. Is it nervousness? Anticipation? His eyes flit to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick them, and then back to your eyes.

You’re both leaning in to each other, subconsciously or intentionally, you’re not sure which-- but you know that you’re super okay with it. Your eyelids flutter when you feel Kuroo’s breath fan over your lips, and you feel Kuroo’s grip tighten around your waist, which sends sparks of excitement coursing through your body, and you feel electric and buzzed, and you flutter your eyes closed as the two of you move closer. Your nose brushes his, and he inhales sharply at the contact, and you feel his thumb rub up and down against your back, and he presses you against him, closer, closer, and your heart is thundering in your ears and all throughout your body, and--

Just like that, it’s all gone. Kuroo takes a step back, blushing furiously just like you, and you’re surprised and really cold from his absence.

“U-uhm…” He runs a hand through his hair, and clears his throat as he looks away. “Sorry. Uh-- yeah. Sorry.” He mumbles, and quickly turns away to walk to the opposite end of the hallway to disappear into the boys’ bathroom.

You’re left standing there, lips parted, heart hammering, the cold slowly seeping back into your bones, and as Everybody Talks by Neon Trees starts to play in the gym, you slowly begin to feel the sharp sting of rejection.

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