#like you just know if this was something released years ago ivy would have been written actually threatening them in the first panel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moankasa · 2 years

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hi cath~ i really like your eremika au oneshoot "guns and roses"... is there any possibility for you to re-upload on wp or ao3?

Whoa it’s kinda weird since this is the first time someone called me by name lmaoo

WAIT, if i’m not wrong it’s quite long ago when i post and decided to deleted it bcs i’m embarrassed, i don’t like the story :’) but there are two version, since u said the one shot i think the one that Eren impregnated Mikasa right? Here you go! I think I’m not going to post it on ao3 again or wp 🥲

Guns and Roses

“I like the snake on your tattoo, i like the ivy and the ink blue” She sing. Everyman in the room can’t take their eyes from her. Her tall body look like a mannequin with a small waist and a long leg. Her hair were short and dark as a coal, along with her big eyes that look like a doll, her skin is white and pale like a snow, and her lips were colored purplish-red like a wine.

She is a wine, the fine one. She addicting, makes all men hypnotized by her charming glance.

“Can you imagine how sweet would be if she moan?”

“Oh god. I can’t imagine that, since the begining i can’t take my eyes from her boobs that almost spill up because of that tight leather corset.

“New raising star, i heard she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I think i’m gonna ask her to drink at my apartement”

“That insane! Give her a break John. She just released her second album”

“Nope. I want to taste her before other boy or some old fat producer come to her”

Eren clench his jaw and his fist when hear the other musician especially men talking something lewd about her. How can they think like that, they were in the middle of the crowd. He already sick hearing other boy want to fuck his girlfriend, like what the hell?! He can’t do this anymore. He want her only to be his. Mikasa and Eren already dating since months ago but Mikasa doesn’t want to make this go to the public. She just get her fame and she doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Let me put on a show for you daddy” how she spell the last word is so glamours somehow.

Mikasa Ackerman the Rookie of the year dating with Punk-Rock star Eren Jaeger: People asumming Mikasa used Eren to make her more famous.

Nah she doesn’t want that.

But Eren think the opposite, he want people know that Mikasa is his girl. Even he want Mikasa to just quit from singing and live in his apartement. Eren often told Mikasa to stop singing and he also will left from his band and they will live as a normal person far from this spotlight and fame. It’s sound crazy but Eren already think about it many times, since Porco and Pieck are married, Reiner also want to stop drumming and start to open a restaurant near by the beach.

“Yayo, yeah you”

Paradis Devil, a famous punk rock band. Eren is the vocal along Pieck, Porco as the guitarist and Reiner play the drum. They also have a great manager, Zeke. He is the only one that they can trust, yeah because he were Eren’s brother.

Bored of the camera, interview, drugs and girl, Eren decided to go back to his Parent house at Stohess a small town far from here to get rid of the anxiety that haunt him. But who knows when he get there he met Mikasa, a live singer at the bar. She is so beautiful that Eren can feel something burst up inside his chest. And what a coincidence that they was chilhood friend back then, before Eren went to Marley and Mikasa sent to the boarding school.

In short they finally dating after a long drama and problem that they have been through.

Now here she is, singing on a big stage live performance Music Award.

Her unique vintage 50s 60s style make her get called Hollywood sad core. She also get called The Saddest Baddest Diva in Rock while Eren got called the opposite. His eccentric and hot at the same time makes every girl feel the thrill in him, he were dangerous, like a hunger beast that looking for a prey, even his glance can make every girl pass out. He is the real ‘Devil’ of Punk-Rock and some fans also considered him as Incubus in real life.

“Let me put on a show..” the music start fade away and everybody stand up give the most loudest applause to her. But not Eren, he still sat on his seat look at her with anger and madness. They both make an eyes contact and Mikasa know she was in trouble, well she doesn’t know why but Eren staring at her like that makes her scared but also make her turn on.

She bow to the audiences, smiled, and left the stage.

The night is still long, there’s still lot things will happen tonight. And the most annoying thing that Eren can not sit beside Mikasa, but luckly she got seat number infront him so Eren can watching her.

After hours finally Eren take turns to sing on the stage with his band.

The music start playing, Eren tuck off his bun and let his hair drop touching his shoulder and soon the crowd were yelling his name full of lust. Eren see her, pretend that she doesn’t care and playing with her nails. You should already know Mikasa, you always do that (playing with her nails) when you feel angry or jealous. And that makes Eren felt better know that Mikasa feel what he felt when other man talking about her.

“I wanna be the first man you look at tonight, i wanna be stuck in your heard and make you go wild!”

Mikasa scatching her head that were not itchy at all, she know Eren is staring at her but she look down focus on her hand. She doesn’t want people to recognize something happen between her and Eren. But why Eren doesn’t understand? She want to be a popular singer, go to a tour live, and many other else, and Eren told her to quit? What’s wrong with him?

‘Miki seriously, everything that you see on television or hear from radio is not Happy as it seem. You know about my alcohol addict two years ago right? I don’t want that happen to you’

She know Eren is more professional and he already work long in this industry, he knows everything, the dark side of the fame. But Mikasa still want to chase that dream, and always want to. Even if it will be end bad she will not regret it.

“So baby why don’t you please me now?”

Please him? She give her first time to Eren!

Not gonna lie it’s amazing. Well they already date for months plus they were a bestfriend before that, chilhood friend, but they only had sex for three times. The first one, on his birthday, and when Mikasa finish her last record for her second album and never do it again. Honestly Mikasa feel bad to Eren, she doesn’t know that sex is like a part of your life. She were shock when hear Annie and Armin slept together every week, even they can do it twice a day. Naive Mikasa.

And finally the music stop and everybody stand up clapping their hands. And Mikasa also finally raise her head to see his lover who were exhausted on stage stare at her back with intense glare make her shiver.

Eren is a temperamental man, and she know it but pretend she forgot it.

***

It’s three in the morning, Eren take her to his apartement after countless time checking if there’s Paparazzi stalking them.

Mikasa took of her fur jacket and throw her body to the bed while Eren take a bottle of champagne and two glass for him and for her. Eren pour full glass for him and a tiny drop to her, she can not handle alcohol. “Thanks” she said when Mikasa walk over him and take a sit beside Eren.

She sip the champagne a little bit and put the glass on the table again.

But before she can speak Eren suddenly grab her head and kiss her right to her lips. At first Mikasa were hitting his chest, she still shock and surprised. But this is Eren, every girl would like to get railed by him and Mikasa also think the same of that horny girls. She start to close her eyes and feel Eren’s tongue travel around her mouth, slowly Eren pull off her corset and she finally can breath again.

She know where this thing will be going and she will play it safe, Mikasa can feel Eren start removing her clothes and she stop it when he touch her black bra.

“Eren” the man stop “i will do it with my mouth” he nodded. Mikasa go over his knees sat on the floor facing his stomach, it’s embarassing but she gather her courage and start to unbutton his jeans. Even when he still wear that jeans Mikasa can see his dick hard from it.

She took a deep breath when she finally remove the boxer, she never remember that Eren were this big. It’s stand hard because of her. Mikasa doubt if he will fit in her mouth, but again Mikasa gonna try it. She kiss the tip slowly and lick the precum, it’s salty but she likes it and finally start to suck it slowly. Eren groan and grab her black hair to guide her faster and faster, she almost choke and gag but she doesn’t want Eren to stop.

“Fuck” He feels so good, okay let’s bring the fact that this is her first blow job. Eren a little bit surprised when Mikasa want to do it but he doesn’t want to miss a chance “How pity, the same mouth that used to sang a beautiful song now sucking a dick” he mocked her, always be like that. But she doesn’t feel sad, the more ‘bad’ things come over his mouth just makes her want to cum even more.

Her mouth, her tongue is so warm makes his cock go crazy about her. Eren can’t hold it anymore and press her head to him. Make her nose touch his lower stomach, he groan when he finally came spill out the white thick liquid and force her to swallow all of it “Don’t waste any little drop Miki” he warned before finally let go of her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, she coughing. Mikasa swallow all of it, Eren told her to and she must obey, it’s not a big deal since Mikasa want it too. Listen, yes she is an independent girl, depending on his man ofcourse.

Eren cup her face and caress her cheeck then smiled “Good girl” she blushing. It’s really affect her when he told her good thing since she has praise kink but wait she also turn on when he talk bad thing about her too? Nevermind she must go ot they will end up naked body in the morning. Mikasa stand up and grab her clothes on the couch, she want to take a bath but Eren hold her hands and pull her to the bed.

“What the fuck Eren?!” She gasp but Eren doesn’t respond. He kiss her lip rough like this is the last time he can kiss her like this. He remove her lace bra and with one hand he start to kneading her breast, her soft white breast and her pink cute nipple. He pull his kiss and let Mikasa take a breath and start to suck her breast make her moan.

He kiss her here and there, bite her up and down, leaving lot of trace and mark on her body. He want everybody know that Mikasa is his girl, and no one can touch or even see her body. It’s really upset him that Mikasa choose clothes that show up her shoulder, her back, even a part of her boobs. She must know how Eren irritated when other men seeing the part of her body that only Eren can see it.

Thinking about what happen last night makes Eren more even angry and rip her soak panties makes her gasp.

“Eren stop- hng!” She lost her word when Eren suddenly enter his finger inside her. She already this wet but it’s still kinda hard for him because Mikasa is just to fucking damn tight. He strecth out his finger and Mikasa scratch his back dig her nails to his back. They can’t do this, if Eren doesn’t stop she will lose control of herself.

His long finger now thrusting, hitting right where her g-spot makes her whinned his name. Eren really know every inch of Mikasa’s body, where she like to touch, where her sensitive place, he ‘own’ her body, soul, and heart. Since they were a kids Eren already know that he want Mikasa, that pretty little girl is belong to her. Finally after years they met again grown up and Mikasa finally be his girl, and Eren will never let her go.

It’s funny how Eren who please her but he is the one who suffering want to fuck her because his dick already hurt.

Enough with the playing.

Eren pull out his wet finger coat with his girl cum and lick it. Mikasa is helpless right now, she just came and her cunt still twitching. She is so beautiful right now, with her her eyes that sparkle because of the tears, her messy hair, her pink reddish cunt looks like a blooming tulip. Her gaze is full of lust.

“Eren” she called him with the most beautiful voice he ever heard.

The man still annoyed, how pathetic he can’t get rid of when other men say it out loud that he want to fuck Mikasa. Eren remove his shirt showing his snake tattoo on his abs, he knows well that the song Mikasa sang last night is meant for him. He hold his aching dick and rub it to lower lips. Mikasa gasp and push his body right away. “We can’t do this Eren! If you really want to put condom first i’m not on my pills right now” she said affraid to get pregnant. But this is Eren and he will do what he want, and yes he want Mikasa to get pregnant. He know he so selfish and mean in the same time but god he can’t help it. This is the only way to make her one hundred person his and makes her quit from being a singer.

He clench his jaw and with one thrust all of his dick is inside her right now “Eren!” She moan surprised and shock, this is the first time they do it without condom. It feels un-real how Mikasa can feel the vein on his dick and Eren finally can feel the real warm inside without layer between them.

“Heaven” he groan feeling the sensation.

And he start to thrusting her, hard.

Mikasa can’t help but moan calling his name again and again. She doesn’t want to do this but her body doesn’t hear her mind. She wrap his waist with her leg, she want him to be closer. Everytime that horrible thought about othet man want to touch her, Eren thrusting her even hard and rough. Mikasa doesn’t have a clue why Eren play rough this time it’s makes her scared. The sound of clamping skin as his ball hitting her ass echoing all over the room with the sound of their moan.

It’s a shame that Mikasa already come again and again, she can’t handle Eren dick especially with that big and how he thrust her merciless kissing her lips, bite her shoulder, knead her breast, pinch her clit. Eren is so greedy over her. “Eren- ah! P-pull it out! Please” she begging over him as Mikasa feels that he will cum. But once again Eren doesn’t care he keep thrusting his dick full of anger and lust, doesn’t care that his lover crying begging over him.

“I will get pregnant Eren!” She yelled at him annoyed that Eren doesn’t replied her word since they make out. Eren grab her chin look into her eyes with deathful glare makes her gasp “That’s the point sweet heart” she widen her eyes can not believe what is he thinking?! Why Eren ugh! Mikasa push his broad chest away but Eren doesn’t move any single inch.

“What the fuck? Get off from me right now! Ah! Eren-!” He flip her body so he can make sure that it will be easier when he cum and doesn’t spill any of his sperm outside of her. He grope her breast he kiss her nape “Ah! Hng Eren please!”.

Eren pinch her tits makes her whinned Mikasa doesn’t know if this her hallucination or not but Eren cock grow bigger inside her and Eren can feel Mikasa sucking his dick and he groan. He can’t hold it anymore, he bite her shoulder and grab her waist pull it over him. ‘Please be pregnant please be pregnant!’ And he came inside her pussy non-stop make the extra come out from her cunt dripping to the bed. Mikasa curl her toes feel something filling her up make her lost conscious and fell to the bed.

***

“Are you still crying?”

“What i look like? Laughing?”

She pout her lips waiting the sun rise because she want to go to the drugstore and buy Plan B. Eren groan and drop his face to the pillow. They were still naked and little bit tired because what happen half hour ago.

“Why you do that?” She finally asked him “You know i don’t want to have a child Eren and even i don’t want our relationship go to public right now. Just give me a time okay? Why you act like you doesn’t want me to be a top singer just like you?” Eren raised his head face her eye that start full with tears again. He bit his lower lip and sat up.

He comb his hair to the back with his finger “It’s not like that Miki.. ugh fine! Are you gonna hit me if i tell you that i feel jealous when other men staring at you and i want you to be mine only mine that i’m the only one that could look at you?” Mikasa smack his shoulder immediately “Are you crazy?!” She can’t believe it!

Eren shrug his shoulder “Maybe? No i mean yes for You” She rolled her eyes.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you, why you really want to be a singer Miki? The popular one. I always thought you want to live at peace place like our small town Stohess?” He remember when they were a kids, Mikasa told him that her dad is a hunter back then he live in the forest and she always curious about that. How does it feels when you wake up and find some deer walking around your house.

Mikasa grab a pillow and hug it tight, she seems a little bit affraid to told him.

“Mikasa?” She sigh “Okay, since there’s no secret between us” Eren can see her cheeck start to blush “You remember back then? When were a kids? You told me that you want to make a band and show up on MTV? And you said that a female singer is kinda attractive?” He blink his eye try to remember that memory.

“And you go! To Marley for school but ended up to be a real singer, rock star even better. And i sent away to boarding school, it’s like a jail you know? I’m scared that you’ll find a girl that catch your attention and your heart, a girl that much more pretty than me who also an artist. I think being a singer too, can sit near you on awards will make my heart felt better and makes me less insecure” Mikasa explained, she feel so embarassed right now and Eren would know how hopeless romantic she is.

She raise her head face his confused and surprised face “Are you gonna hit me too?” What a silly question! Eren cup her face and kiss her lips right away. This kiss is different from the kiss when they gonna make out, right now he kiss her gentle and softly, it’s like a sweet dream. Eren pull his lip and look deep into her ebony eyes “So you telling me that you like me even before we dating or when i met you months ago at the bar?” He asked makes sure and Mikasa is to shy to say it so she just nodded with face red like a steam crab.

“Oh Miki!” He hug her tight “I wish you can feel my heart that beating so fast, but you remember the wrong memory i was joking when i said that thing!” Mikasa furrow her brow “Really?” He nodded.

“You don’t have to be affraid, you are the only girl that i laid my eyes for. You can ask Zeke how hard i was to fine what’s your school name because i want to sent you a letter. I thought i never see you again untill that night. Imagine, the last time i saw you is like eigth years ago. It’s really surprised me saw you grown up and be more beautiful as ever” Eren please stop Mikasa can’t hold her lips to smile “Even after met with lot artist, model, no one can compare your beauty and no one has remove you from my heart for years”.

“Do you remember when you ask me how babies are made?” She widen her eyes cursing herself how dumb is she back then “And i told you so, and i also already teach you how. But now i want to really want a baby” he pout his lip show her a sad expression. “Are you still going to buy Plan B after all this thing?” Mikasa took a deep breath she confused as hell. So all this time.. WHY HE DOESN’t said that he was joking back then! She wiped her face, her heart beating faster then she shake her head.

“I change my mind, maybe having a kid doesn’t look that bad- Whoa Eren what are you doing?!” He push her lie down to the bed and start kissing her cheeck and her neck, make some ticklish sensation “Thank you” he whisper to her ear before finally kiss her again here and there. Mikasa turn her face shy, she doesn’t want Eren to see her red face. He caress her stomach and slowly his finger reach her clit and touch it makes her gasp.

“Eren!”

“What?”

Mikasa hold his hand “We just do it an hour ago, i even can stand up or even walk yet” she explained but Eren keep rubbing her clit make her whinned “Don’t be scared Miki i will make sure you even doesn’t get to sit right and also” he whispered to her ear “I’ll fuck you again and again make sure you will get pregnant, and before that the bed will be the only place you can stay” his voice makes her nervous, scared and thrilled in the same time.

Sometimes Mikasa wonder if Eren that she met years ago, the Eren that was sweet, careless, funny, the one who wrap the red scarf to her when the winter came is the same with her Eren now, he act like a beast on the bed.

After that night they both decided to left the music industry when Mikasa is positive. Eren call his dad asking about job in his hospital. Well he went to medical school before left out and start a band and Mikasa write her last song before finally go back to Stohess.

Brooklyn Baby

The fact that the song was blow up after one day released, Mikasa ofcourse happy but she doesn’t think about it anymore. Two months later they gone, disappear from the public and media. Everybody was looking for them but they leave without leaving a single trace nor footprint.

Years later,

After missing for a long time finally media captured Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman! They both come to Marley to visit their friends in here. But the most surprisingly there’s a baby with them! Eren hold a baby wear blue hoodie that cover the baby face and look at Mikasa, she bring a diaper bag! Some fans already thought they must be dating back then before leaving the entertainment.

#cath’s writting

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trash-writings · 3 years

Text

Master At Play

Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Another commission! If you are interested in commissioning me, send me a DM!

Warnings: master/sir kink, power play, 1 face slap, 1 pussy slap, nipple stimulation, degradation (like a lot), choking, thigh riding, vaginal sex, oral (m. receiving), mindbreak (if you squint), yandere themes, he threatens your life at one point ok just let me know if theres more I should add here!

Word count: 4k

Summary: Sukuna takes an interest in the maid who works in his private quarters, perhaps it’s even developed into a need to control her beyond her job description.

He didn’t like making a habit of staring too long at his servants. As time went on, he realized his presence alone made them nervous and mess up whatever they were doing, so he stopped hovering whenever someone was in the room to clean or act out whatever task they’d been assigned. In all his years he’d yet to meet anyone who could handle the pressure for longer than a month, the sheer number of humans who had failed him was too high to remember… rather, that he cared to remember.

Until you came along, with your soft features, bright smile, and steady hands even when he critiqued everything you did. He wouldn’t give you the benefit of saying he was impressed by you, there had been very few that he’d even consider worthy of that. However, something about you piqued his interest.

While your good work and apparent lack of fear for him was of interest, nothing interested him more than the jealousy he felt whenever one of his butlers would talk to you or order you around. Each time one of them spoke to you, his hand would twitch. Something about you being present and attentive to anyone else, enraging. You were his, and his alone, and he planned to remind you of it.

His presence never bothered you, which was surprising to you and everyone around the estate. All the training you had to go through just to enter his palace was harder than what you’d think it would take to get into an ivy league school. By the time you’d made it through to fill the open position in his private quarters, nothing bothered you anymore as you’d seen enough to frighten you for several lifetimes.

It wasn’t easy, of course, choosing to maintain your positivity when surrounded by so many cold people and curses. But you managed it well, and most of all you did your job well. The stories were the only thing that still kept you up at night, what he might do if you slipped up. All the seasoned maids and butlers had joked about the men and women who had once occupied your position, and despite your best efforts, it was hard to not think about them. That’s why you did your best to maintain your well-gathered manners and poise as you worked.

Sukuna’s presence was daunting, to be sure. There wasn’t a moment when he was in the room that you felt fully at ease, but you knew you had to work. He was rarely in his quarters when you first began working for him, never catching a glance at him until several months in. But now, he’s been home a lot more for reasons unbeknownst to you. Now, he was more of an annoyance when you worked. His eyes always following you around, making snide comments as you dusted, or even breathing too loudly made you want to break your tools and scream.

“You already wiped down that shelf,” his deep voice startles you, not realizing he had entered the room.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You look to the ground as you were trained to do and move to the next shelf. Carefully moving the antiques from the shelf to the next as you dusted was the hardest part to do while he watched. If your fingers moved even the slightest, you knew you’d drop it.

Sukuna moves across the large room, sitting down on the dark brown armchair, leaning on the left arm. His cheek rests softly against the back of his fingers as he watches you continue to clean his room. The maid outfit he picked out centuries ago fits you like a glove, he notices. It’s hard not to watch you, the way you gracefully navigate between pieces of furniture and carefully ensure everything remains dust free.

“Don’t break that,” he says to provoke you. Knowing this, you extra carefully set back down the glazed vase back on the dark wood shelf.

“I won’t, Sir.” You tell him as it sets soundly on the shelf and you back away.

You’re always so polite, so pristine, and so innocent Sukuna realizes. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin, but you won’t let him. You’re not going to be like the others who’s rage, and outbursts couldn’t be contained. You want to please him most of all and being patient and perfect at your job is how you think it’ll please him most.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You keep your head down, not daring to look up at his red eyes. You’ve only really looked at him from afar, always across the room and not getting close enough to see him. But, like everything else you know about him, you’ve heard stories.

“Come kneel,” he orders, and you set your supplies down on the floor to quickly cross the room in front of him.

Getting on your knees, you lay your hands on your lap and continue looking down. You catch a glimpse of his shoe-less feet, and notice the markings continue all the way to his toes. While of course it makes sense that they would… a soft giggle passes your lips and your body tenses with regret.

“Is something funny?” He leans forward, reaching one arm out to take your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

You oblige, letting him lift your face to where you’re staring straight at him. Trying your best, you manage to keep your face neutral. The corner of his lips upturns, frightening you. It’s not a smile, nor a smirk really, but instead an amused look that unnerves you to your core.

“N-no,” your voice trembles and his amusement grows.

He tilts his head and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t believe you,” he warns. “However, I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let it slide just this once.” The desperate look in your eyes making his cock twitch under his robes.

“I-it won’t happen a-again,” despite trying to steady yourself, you can’t.

He’s frightening this close.

His face now just inches from yours.

He’s attractive in a strange way. Something you’d never consider of someone with two sets of eyes and all the dark curse markings displayed across his skin. Now you wonder why this fear is still bubbling inside of you but the burning in your stomach and racing heart are telling another story. It’s confusing and overwhelming the way you feel looking into his eyes, trying not to pull away or run from the room.

“I know it won’t,” he states releasing your face. “However,” you can feel your legs tremble as the word passes his lips. What could he possibly have issue with? “Your loyalty to me has been in question.”

“Sir, I would-“ a harsh slap to your cheek silences you and you drop your gaze to the floor. You know you shouldn’t have spoken without his permission. You know you shouldn’t have.

“Quiet!” His voice is so loud it rattles the different antiques around the room that you just carefully cleaned. “Look up at me.” You do. His hand reaches out, fingers latching around your throat and bringing you from your kneeling position to where you’re standing on your knees now.

Your hands instinctively grab his arm, his muscles flexing underneath your palms as you desperately hang onto him, scared he’ll bring you past your knees where you’ll have no balance but his hand around your throat. His thumb and fingers tighten, your air and blood flow restricted and making you panic. Your head feels so light, you’re clawing at his arm now to let you go.

“You look deliciously desperate, little one.” He coos, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I could easily kill you right now, you know. You’re barely putting up a fight. I don’t think it would even be worth my time.”

His fingers loosen their grip, and you fall to the ground choking and holding yourself up on your hands and knees as he leans back in his seat. Your arms are trembling, along with your legs. He’s barely touched you and you feel yourself crumbling here in front of him. Peaking up from your lashes at him, you see he’s back to looking unamused and leaning on his left arm.

“Stand up and come closer,” he orders you and you reluctantly push yourself from the ground. Did this really have to be your first true interaction with him? Having never said more than yes or no sir to him, you’d only nodded or gotten out of his way. His sudden interest on you in terrifying… but if it’s so terrifying, why do you feel your panties getting sticky underneath your uniform?

As you step as close as you can to him without touching him, he sits up in his chair and pats his right thigh. “Sit,” he orders. You go to sit across his thigh, but he stops you. “Not like that, dumb little thing. Straddle it. I know you’re aching for some pleasure.”

You don’t move, scared to do what he wants. Is this a trick? Why would he want you to ride his thigh after he threatened your life? You want to, he’s right. You’re desperate for it, truly.

“What good is a servant who can’t follow orders?” He scoffs, reaching up and taking your hips between his hand and pulling you down on him. Your cunt throbs as he forces you onto his thigh. His thigh is hard between your leg, and you know he’ll feel good against your clit, but you’re still to stunned to know what he will allow you to do.

“C-can I?” You stutter out, still irritated with how pathetic you must sound to him. However, he loves it. Watching you ask for permission for each and every step, your innocence begging to be torn apart.

He chuckles, “Show me how devoted you are to me.”

Releasing the tight grip on your hips, you’re able to roll them once and a soft cry passes your lips as your panties pull at your slit as you move on his thigh. His hands trails up your body, fingers digging into your sides squeezing your body as you continue your slow motions on him. You reach out tentatively, placing your hands on his shoulders so you can steady yourself to move faster.

“Good girl,” he praises, encouraging you. The two simple words go straight to your core, fueling your desire.

He impatiently tears your dress form the bust to your core, the fabric falling off your body and pooling around you waist and his thighs. Your nipples perk up as he pulls your bra cups down, giving him full access to pinch your nipples and you cry out loudly, the pain turning to pleasure as you ride him.

“Look at how pathetic you are,” he chuckles toughly groping your breasts in his hands. “You’re gonna cum just from my leg aren’t you, little one? Like a good little whore.”

“Mhmm,” you whine unable to focus on replying as you desperately grind your cunt on his thigh. The stimulation from your panties tugging and the pressure form his though you’re so close. Another roll of your hips and you know you’re about to come undone.

“Are you going to cum already?” He chuckles lifting you off his thigh with ease; ruining your orgasm and making you whine loudly. “You’re a horny little whore, aren’t you? All you want is to get off and not do any work.”

You pout your lip out, hoping being cute will do something for him and let you continue… or do something else. Looking down at him as his eyes roam your body is torture, you have no idea what he’s thinking or what he might do.

“S-sir,” you whine, wanting him to do something other than just stare at you. He laughs, your pitifulness endearing to him; not something he’d ever voice aloud to you. “Want more,” you tell him.

Sukuna’s laugh shifts, something darker and demeaning in tone. He stands you up in front of him, your torn uniform falling to the ground around your ankles, leaving you in in just your underwear as he shifts his robe. Biting your bottom lip, you nervously wait to see what you’re going to have to take now.

Sukuna takes his cock in his hand, stroking the thick length once to relieve the tension that’s built up from teasing you for so long. The way your eyes devour him before he gives you permission to touch him thrills him. Your teeth holding your bottom lip between them makes his mind wonder, marking you as his becoming his only goal for the evening.

“Do you deserve this yet?” He asks you and you desperately nod, wanting nothing more than to sink down on his cock and let him fill you whole despite how daunting it looks now in front of you. You’re almost sure you can’t take him all. But you want to try. “Get on your knees and show me then,” he orders.

You’re quick to follow his demand. Timidly reaching up and replacing his hand on his cock. You admire the dark black lines that run up either side of him, his veins making it look uneven and rough. You shiver at the thought of him inside of you, tugging at your walls as hi thrusts in and out of you.

“Do I need to call another maid or are you going to do your job?” His irritation is seeping out of him, your body heating up and burning your insides. “I’m sure any one of those brainless girls would know what to do without hesitating.”

Opening your mouth, you decide it’s better to not make him wait any longer. The head of his cock is leaking precum and it tastes salty on your tongue as you take him until he’s hitting the back of your throat and grabbing your hair to hold you still. He groans as your tongue drags across the bottom of his cock and you gag on the head.

“Good fucking girl,” he groans pushing your head down further as his pubic hair tickles your nose and you choke on him, making the lewdest noises you’ve ever spewed.

Your cunt clenches around nothing as he praises you again. Each one leaves you wanting more and more while you suck him off. You find that as you tease his head with your tongue and massage his balls, he becomes increasingly louder and praises you more.

He pulls you back by your hair, a shining string of spit still connecting your mouth to the head of his cock. He pulls you in, your chest hitting his as he sloppily kisses you, his tongue massaging yours and invading your throat. It’s impossible to feel like he’s not consuming you whole, and even if he were, you know now you wouldn’t resist.

He pulls away from the kiss and speaks to you slowly, his voice commanding every ounce of sense you have to forget about everything else but his words. “If you like to toy with my balls so much, why don’t you suck on them like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You’re dropped back to your knees, and you spit in your hand to stroke his cock smoothly while you take his balls in your mouth. You lick between them once, teasing with just the tip of your tongue earning a deep grunt from him. It’s unexpected that he’s so patient with your teasing, but maybe this is his one sensitive spot where he’s okay letting you take your time with him.

He feels so heavy on your tongue when you suck on one side, desperate to hear him really moan. You struggle to take both in, your mouth so full you can barely move your tongue, but his tight grip on your hair lets you know he loves it. Popping them out of your mouth you give yourself a second to catch your breath and lick up the backside of his cock from the base to the tip. Leaving a small kiss on the top, your lip covering with precum.

“You taste so good, Sir.” Flattery, he has to like it. There’s no way the King of Curses wouldn’t like it, right?

His smirk confirms your theory.

“Wanna taste your cum,” you tell him looking up at him with the most innocent look you can muster. “Bet it tastes s’good.”

“I don’t think you’ve been good enough for that,” he laughs pulling you up onto his lap. “Plus, I haven’t gotten to use this pretty little pussy yet. Don’t you want me to fuck you?” His fingers creep between your thighs, middle finger dipping between your folds and teasing your throbbing clit.

“Please! Want your cock so bad!” The words come from your mouth without a thought. You feel you’re losing control of your instincts and letting yourself fall into a totally new headspace that Sukuna alone owns.

He stands up and you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock nestled against your cunt and his stomach. He carries you over to his bed, dropping you on your back and shedding his robe on the floor. He grabs your right ankle, pulling you roughly down to the end of the bed, lining your ass up with the end and folding your legs into yourself. His hands squeeze the back of your thighs, the pressure sure to leave fingerprint bruises all over.

He slaps your cunt once, and you squeal loudly while he laughs.

“Look at you! You’re so fucking wet.” He rubs the head of his cock up and down your slit, while you close your eyes and dig your nails into the bedding. “I like good girls who don’t need prepped. So desperate and needy for my cock they do it themselves.”

The head of his cock slips in with ease, stretching your hole and making you cry out. He’s so thick you already feel like you’re being torn in two.

“Too much!” You cry out, feeling pathetic for the words.

“You can take it. You will take it.” He thrusts inside of you, and you scream. Your vision goes black for a moment and you try to pull away, but his hold on your thighs makes it an impossible task. “Open your eyes,” he tells you.

You open your eyes and see he’s parted your legs just enough to show you how you’re being fucked.

“Look at that, your pussy is devouring every inch of me.” He chuckles slowly dragging himself out to the tip before slamming back inside of you. “So fucking tight.”

You can’t speak, the pain fading as you adjust to his size and begin to feel it be replaced with pleasure. Each drag of his cock inside of you making you see stars and cry out for him. He loves every little whimper, gasp, and curse that falls from your lips.

Watching your eyes roll back into your head is his favorite part. You’re to fucked out already to even try and hold your composure he knows you’ve desperately clung to since starting to work for him. You clench around him so tightly he could cum now, but what fun would that be? HE releases your legs and pulls out of you.

Grabbing your hips and flipping you over he pulls your ass towards him, your legs dangling off the bed while you struggle to catch your footing. He’s inside you before you can, fucking you into the mattress and squeezing your ass so tightly you can’t move. His thrusts are rough, the head of his cock reaching new depths inside of you and beating against your cervix.

“S-sir please, it’s too much!” You beg, not sure if your body can hold up at this pace. You’re embarrassed by how good it feels to be thrown around like this, your body feeling lighter than air by the way he handles you. Drool runs down your cheek and onto the bedding, leaving a pool in its wake. He’ll surely make you change it again.

He doesn’t answer, slapping your ass in response. “You can take it,” he scoffs annoyed with your insolence.

You’re lucky, he thinks, there’s so much more he could do to you. He could be so much rougher. Breaking you down until you were nothing but a cute little toy for him to play with. It’s too soon to do this to you just yet. The process is the longest part, but the rewards he reaps are always worth it. Right now, he can see with your pliable body and beautiful cries that you’ll be the perfect toy for him to play with for the weeks to come.

“Sukuna!” You can’t help but use his name and hope he won’t hurt you. “Wanna cum!”

He can’t stop the way his body reacts to you using his name. It’s unexpected and not to his liking, but the way your cunt clenches around him he’s okay to let it slide just this once. “Cum then,” he spits gripping your hips and pulling your body into his as he fucks into you harder.

You have to let your body fall into the mattress with your face as you cum. It’s overwhelming euphoric and you let go. Sukuna continues fucking you through your orgasm, harder than before and you swear he’s tearing your insides apart.

“That’s it, let me have all of you.” With no resistance from you now, he cums grunting and holding your ass against him.

You’re so hot and full, you can feel his cum streaming down your thighs and as he pulls out you fall against the bed. Curled up, you can’t move, your muscles worn down from his demands. Sukuna looks unfazed, cleaning himself up with a towel and sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Clean yourself up,” he tells you tossing the towel on your body. “I’ll send for some clothes for you. I don’t want you leaving this room. Do you understand?” You nod, sitting up and wiping the cum from your thighs and off the bed.

“Why can’t I leave?” Your words are slow, testing to see if he’s okay with you asking.

He smiles at you. It’s not sweet or comforting. Instead, it reminds you of exactly who he is, shaking you to your core. “You’re going to be my good little girl now. Do you understand?” He reaches out, balancing your chin on his forefinger and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Another thing… address me by my name without my permission again and I will make it impossible for you to sit or stand for a week.”

“Yes, Sir.” You bite back the tremble in your voice, and he walks away towards his bathroom adjacent to his room.

He disappears behind the door, and you’re unsure of what to do. Everything was so fast and in the moment that now you’re thinking straight it’s all the more confusing. A maid enters the room, and you cover yourself as she drops the clothing for you on the table by the door as you’ve done many times for Sukuna.

She gives you a sad look before scurrying out of the room.

“----!” Sukuna’s voice booms through the rooms, making you jump as you try to get changed. You realize this is the first time you’ve heard your own name in months.

“Yes, Sir?” You call back.

“Get in here and clean yourself. I want you fresh and ready for next time.”

#commissions #comissionwork #commisionwork #sukuna smut #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna smut

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charmed-asylum · 3 years

Text

RUMOR HAS IT

DARK STEVE ROGERS X OC MINI FIC

Reqested by @sage1998c request: Hi I was wondering if you would please consider doing a dark Steve high school au story starting Kat Graham as the main oc/face claim. I would really appreciate it if you would think about it.

WARNING: ALOT OF CRAZY SHIT!!! I never did a dark fic I am going to miss a few but let start with the basics NO ONE UNDER AGE OF 18 SHOULD READ THIS. BLACK MAIL/ SEX/ YANDRE/ RECORDING OF SEX WITHOUT SHARE AGRREEMENT/ ETC ETC

SUMMERY: Life was perfect for American boy, aka Steve Rogers. Great friends, hot cheerleader girlfriend, love and adore by everyone. Everything was perfect till senior year when Angelina came around and an anonymous gossip column, Rumor Has It, threatening to expose everyone's dirty laundry.

~ MASTERLIST~

SNEAK PEEK // Angelina OC

TAGGED: @geralt-jaskier20 @hypersonicxd-blog @muralskins @readermia @muralskins@david-winters-93@alagalaska @SAGE1998C

Thick FOG COVERED Rear WINDOWS of his navy blue 1967 Chevy Camaro. A deep moan came from his mouth as he digs deeper into her wet centerfold. His colossal hand holds tighter to her tiny neck, trying to take all his thoughts else were. “OHHHH FU FUCK. HARDER,” Jane shout from behind his thick fingers. His eyes squeeze tighter; he was close still but so far. Think think think of something Peggy beast No. Jane wet means you sure hit new heights with her. She is enjoying it. He opens his ocean blue eyes and gazed back at Jane; her back was arched, moving closer to his cock. Trying to get more. Greedy bitch.

He couldn’t wait until he was destroying her. By the end of her fifth orgasm (pushing her fourth ), she would know to never mess with him again. She ends this fuckin blog once together. Finally, end his bad luck streak. All this was messing with him mentally and psychically. Maybe after this, he can finally get in with Angelina. Fuck now; she was a piece of art. Body carve from god himself. He thought Peggy was an angel, his perfect dame, but then Angelina came back into his life. Right when he needed her. It’s been forever since he saw her. Just then, Jane let at whining cries for him. That and imagining it Angelina and her virgin pussy finally help him release. God, that’s it, he thought to himself. It has been happening a lot. Lately, he felt he was in love. He knows it even though he is young. No matter what it is, he was thinking about her. He can’t sleep, eat, think.

Whenever he had a chance to stop thinking of her, it’s about this FUCKING BLOG. RUMORS HAS IT. STUPID SHIT! It already got a few of his friends, and even though he is unstoppable invisible. His fears he was going to be next. That’s why Jane has to be the person behind it. No one else knows Thor secret besides him, Thor and his family, her, and that child’s family. So stupid. So Thor was involved in an accident and drunk and got a child in a fucking coma. With one peek at the camera, he stares back at the feedback, good he is still out of frame.

Jane utters another whimper. Almost there, he thought to himself. Jane’s sparkling baby pink cat claw nails scratch deep into his pecks and across his ample shoulders. The sight of her nail polish reminds him of a dress Angelina once wear. The last time he saw her, matter of fact, was 12 years ago. She was only three years younger than her. He can taste the chunky chocolate chips that melted into the cookies. He can hear the playful voice she uses when she would pretend to play house. He was daddy, and she was mommy. No matter what he did, she always looked up at him like he was god-like. He was the only one who could ever make her feel safe. Even as a weak, pathetic boy like him. Maybe she was that high he felt once and had been trying to get ever since. He can remember like it was yesterday when they share their 1st kiss. She wanted it; she kisses him sweet dreams of a cloud 9 type of kiss. He would have relished that kiss if he had any common sense instead of screaming around like an idiot. He accidentally pushed her away and made her hurt herself. Even though he was the cause of that pain, it was him she looks at to save her. Make her feel better. Fuck, where did that pretty brown eye with pink tails in tutu little girl go?

She turns into a fuckin unstoppable beast, a storm of everything that drove him crazy. Everything he saw was wrong with the world. Still, he wanted more. Man, he had to get Jane to understand she was messing up his chance to be with his little angel. God’s gift to him for what he has done what he has accomplished.

“OH STEVEEEEEE” Jane shouted, her legs clenching tight around Steve waisted her mouth in the notch of her neck. Five

“I told you I could make you come at least five times. Having the best sex you ever got, huh. Tell me I’m better no one can ever fuck you. Not even your stupid boyfriend, Thor,” Steve said breathlessly.

Jane nods and whimpers softly. It’s you.

“A no. Doll, I need you to shout it louder for the camera,” he whispered into her ear.

So far into her sexual bliss high, she did not hear him say that but instead agree with him.

He smiles, now holding the camera close to her wet fold. Jane lay back, eyes close, dazed. With a flash, her eyes peak open to see the phone filming her. She pushes up only to be pushed back down with one finger by Steve, still holding the camera. One hand holds down her arms above her head. A Pitch of Steve’s sweat drips onto her.

“Come on, Jane Baby. Say hi to the camera. Man, I made many sex tapes, but you are the first girl I made come without much effort. That is how much of a gold digger slut you are. Your boyfriend hasn’t even cleaned out his locker, but you are already begging to suck my cock. Tiss. Now now, what are we going to do, huh? One-click, and this goes quicker than one of your rumors. By the time you get out of this car, everyone will know what a dirty slut you are. No more Thor, no more ivy school options. The only thing you can do is give yourself to homeless people. Right, where you belong” Steve chuckle watching Jane cry, begging him to stop.

“But why Jane baby, you were holding me with an iron fist singing my name to the high heavens. Haha, you bitch. It would be best if you had someone to teach you—the right way. Don’t worry; I do that. Mmm. Would you like me to show you the right way? Show you how to be a lady, not trashy dirty whore” He said, proceeding close, sniffing her dark locks. Could Angelina still smell like sweet sugar and honey? Wonder if she uses a different shampoo than whores like Jane or Peggy. I bet she sounds different too.

“Please don’t. Do this I. I. I do anything. Please don’t post the video,” Jane said between each sob. Her tiny wrist was starting to burn from the tight grip.

“Oh, no amount of tears or begging to go to stop me. No. You are going to shut up and listen to me bitch. One-stop your blogging, shut it down, and then redact it all. I don’t care what you say, but you end this shit. THEN you’re going to be Thor’s slave. Do whatever he wants behind closed doors, and in front, you will hold tight to his arm to every court hearing throughout the trials. I don’t care if you miss school; I look or hear you miss anything. I’m posting this gem here. Understand,” He said, tilting his head to the side.

“Bu Bu bu it was not me I not the person behind it. I promise I got mad at Thor yes, he was flirting with girls at all the games. But I promise Steve I never do that. But I admit it if that what you want me to do,” She said, crying with chubby tears. He looks deep into her eyes, trying to see if she was lying. Maybe she didn’t. She was like him in a way, using Thor to better herself. He loosens his hold but remains on top. He savors this for future use, but he won’t tell that. Yet. No, he was going to have a bit of fun with this one.

“Not enough. Huh, I guess that’s bye-bye to a bright future. Or else. You come here and show me just how much you want me to keep this little homemade video a secret. Huh. Make it quick. I got a date with destiny, or should I say, little angel. Remember, you use those pearly whites teeth, or don’t swallow all of it up. Bye-bye future, “Steve says with a huge grind and dark eyes darker the midnight sky.

#dark marvel #dark fic #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark steve x you #steve rogers #steve x you #chris evans x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!oc #Angelina oc #jane foster #captain america #marvel #rumor has it #dark marvel fic #mini fanfiction #request #dark steve

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

This is an alternate ending for my Bio!dad Joker / Bio!mom Harley AU. Or really, the timeline itself will be entirely different starting from the moment that Marinette’s plane lands in Gotham. If you haven’t read the original, you can do so here.

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette often hated how accurate her intuition tended to be. She had barely even stepped out of the airport before she had felt the prick of a needle in her neck and the sensation of being shoved into a small, dark space before her vision cut out.

Looks like her mom wasn’t able to hide her existence away as well as they thought.

And unfortunately for Marinette, her darling asshole of a father had apparently had ample time to plan his first meeting with her. If he had just used the much easier to acquire Chloroform on her, then Marinette likely would have woken up early enough to come up with a plan. Chloroform was unreliable and wore off fairly easily. But no, he had actually had the time to steal hospital grade anesthetic.

Which meant that Marinette woke up with her wrists zip-tied to heavy links of chain above her head, and her ankles connected to the chain below her with what felt like ten layers of duct tape.

Lovely.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning, sleepyhead!” Those were the high-pitched, dramatic words she heard when she came back to consciousness. She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know who the speaker was— she had watched enough videos online and not-so-legally obtained Asylum and Prison footage to immediately recognize the speech patterns and tone that was echoing around her.

Apparently keeping her eyes closed was not allowed, because it was only a few seconds later that Marinette felt a harsh slap sting her cheek and whip her face to the side. Oh, that would become a bruise without a doubt. Her teeth betrayed her, cutting into the inside of her mouth with the force of the hit. So, when Marinette opened her eyes to glare at the sperm donor responsible for half of her DNA, she aimed her bloody spit right at him. It landed on his shoe, which only a few seconds later slammed into her gut.

Marinette gasped for air even as the chain she was on swung violently, making her dizzy and upsetting her stomach. Too bad she didn’t have anything in there to throw up on him, she thought angrily. The chain links rattled loudly, ringing in her head alongside the electric pain of both of her newly forming bruises.

“Honestly, is that any way to treat your dear ol’ Daddy?” Joker cooed with false offense, one hand over his heart. Marinette glared at him as best as she could as she continued to sway in the open air, the chain she was tied to being the only thing keeping her from plunging straight down into a vat of sickly green, bubbling liquid.

Marinette didn’t need to be told what that liquid was. And joker knew that, the moment he saw her look down at that vat and saw the realization almost immediately cross her face. So instead of explaining, he laughed. Loud, high, and deranged.

“Good, good! That idiot Harley kept you educated, at least,” he said between psychotic chuckles. “Ah yes, and she somehow managed to choose the perfect name,” he glided over to her, as if he was some ethereal demon of chaos instead of a human. His paper-white hand reached out, grabbing her chin in a crushing grip and turning her face this way and that. Inspecting her as if she was a piece of china and not a living being. “So easy to adjust. Right now, you’re Marinette. Just like how, all those years ago, your mother stood here as Harleen. But just as she was dunked into acid and became my harlequin,” he stepped back and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. He spun her like a top, making the metal chain creak and clink as it wound into a few weak coils and then released back out, trying to go straight again. It sent Marinette twirling through the air in a horrid half-spin, one-eighty degrees one way before sharply spinning to the other side. Joker laughed.

“Just like that, you’re gonna go from boring old Marinette,” he stuck out his tongue like a child, as if the mere taste of her name was bitter. “And you’ll be reborn as my new little Marionette. Aren’t you excited?!”

“Fuck you,” Marinette spat, even as she tried to blink and return her vision to normal. She was far too disoriented to even come up with a plan— but she was still coherent enough to register that the sky was dark outside the high windows of the factory she was apparently in. She had been missing for a few hours then, which meant that her mom and Momma Ivy would have called for help a long time ago. Maybe if she just stalled long enough, it would get there in time. “I’m not a puppet. Not for you, not for anybody!” She snarled.

Joker rolled his eyes, but his smile still widened. “Oh, that’s what they all say. In fact, your mother put up a good resistance there for a while, but her inner chaos couldn’t resist me. You’ll bend even easier, I have no doubt,” her ran his hand along her cheek in a motion that was so gentle that it felt foreign, wrong, to her coming from him. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to whiplash her, take all her hope away before dangling the option he wanted her to choose in front of her like a carrot on a stick.

Too bad he didn’t know her at all. She cringed away from his gentle touch, revolted by the mere feel of his skin on her’s.

“And your accent is a nice touch,” he cooed as if her reaction didn’t bother him at all. It probably didn’t. “Exotic. Just the thing I need to freshen up my usual act a bit, the Boston twang my old Harlequins had is just… stale by now, don’t you agree?”

Marinette clenched her jaw at the reminder that he had tried to pass off a cheap look-alike as her mom when she disappeared, back when she was pregnant with Marinette, to hide her baby from Joker. How he had discarded that woman like trash when Harley went back to him, only to replace her again when her mom left him for good.

No matter how badly Joker spoke of her mom, Marinette knew that Harley had been the only Harlequin of his to actually last. The only one he kept around, and there was a reason for that. Now, he was looking for another replacement. One that was more than a cheap knockoff, and he was hoping that a teenager with not only Harley’s genetics, but also his own, would be the exact kind of right-hand prop he wanted. An obedient little puppet of chaos, just for him.

But Marinette was nobody's toy. She had been used and taken advantage of enough back in Paris, she had spent her whole life struggling to escape the side effects of her parentage. To deal with the things she inherited.

The obsessiveness, the way she was so quick to get attached. She knew she inherited that from her mom. But there was also the rage, the anger that Marinette constantly had to stuff down. Hide below the surface before it hurt someone. Keep under a tight reign and hide away in the back of her mind, her own dirty little secret.

The constant reminder of just who her biological father was. Because that anger, that viciousness, could only have come from him.

She had spent her whole life trying to carve herself her own identity, to create beauty with the chaotic elements she got from her blood. And she couldn’t blame her mother, not really. Her mother at least did her best to help, and always leant an empathetic ear when Marinette needed it. But Joker?

Oh, she could, and would, blame him even long after he was dead and gone. Because he was the one who hurt her mother, he was the one who twisted her and drove her to feel unfit to be a parent. And sometimes, Marinette thought it would be better if Joker never existed. Sure, that meant she never would have been born. But wouldn’t that have been easier, too? To not ever have to experience the struggle that came with being his daughter, a title she never consented to?

But she couldn’t change the past. She was alive, and she would use her life to spite everything that the Joker stood for. That would be her revenge. He wanted a toy?

Joker had been monologuing, but Marinette drowned it all out as she kept her periphery vision on the windows above her. Shadows moved out there, with familiar bright yellows and shadowy blacks. The bats were there. She just needed to stall.

She opened her mouth. Joker pulled a lever.

Marinette dropped.

Wire whizzed through the air, knocking the breath out of Marinette as it wound around her torso. She was barely able to piece together what was happening; one of the bats shot a human-safe grapple to try and pull her away from the acid.

But the chain and her restraints were stronger, heavier, and just dragged the grapple down with her body.

The impact sent a large wave of sickly green liquid surging over the side of the vat, and Marinette was dragged from view underneath the surface.

It burned.

She distantly felt the tape around her ankles peel itself away from her skin, the combination of acid and wetness rendering it useless. She felt the chemicals burning at her, sending painful tingles across every last inch of her skin. It got in her mouth, she didn’t have any breath in her to hold and ended up swallowing some. It seared her throat and created a river of lava inside her. It hurt.

It hurt so bad, she just wanted out. Out. Out. Out!

Someone pull her out now!

The zip tie around her wrist loosened enough for her to pull herself free, right as something heavy slammed into the heavy metal bowl. The entire container sloshed, slamming to fall onto its side. Marinette’s body was pulled alongside the rush of liquid as it flowed out, and she was able to breathe air again. Sweet, cooling air.

And then she hacked up acid, spitting and spewing it in an attempt to purge every last drop she had accidentally ingested. Like a cat choking on a hairball, she coughed and hacked and her chest convulsed and contracted to try and help her. Her ribs ached, she figured that the grapple that had tried to save her had ended up fracturing or breaking a rib or two. But all she cared about was breathing and getting rid of the chemicals she had inhaled. She needed it out. All of it. Out. Out. Out of her!

“Try to take a deep breath,” a gruff voice commanded, soft but solid. Something stable for her to cling to. So she did as it asked, forcing herself to stop hacking and instead focus on inhaling. As slowly as she could. It was difficult, the first few breaths cut themselves off with more involuntary coughing, but the owner of the gruff voice stayed nearby. Repeated it’s request. “Deep breath. Steady, now. In. Out. Good.”

Marinette was just starting to calm down, just starting to claw herself out of the haze of panic and adrenaline, when that wretched laugh cut through the air again.

“There you are! Heheheheh! My cute little Marionette!”

Marinette froze. She could barely think, barely understand her own emotions. But she knew she was different now. She knew there was no way back, he had taken it from her. He had taken her normality, he had taken all of her years of hard work and burned them right in front of her.

He had won. The bats hadn’t been fast enough. But, if her foggy mind was correct, Batman was the one trying to bring her back to lucidity. Batman was the one trying to help her get air back in her lungs.

Not her so-called father.

If he wanted a toy, she’d be a haunted doll. She’d harass him, haunt him, until he wanted nothing to do with her. She’d come back, like a possessed porcelain doll refusing to be thrown away. She would make him regret ever awakening the monster that she had spent so long forcing down. Because she was her father’s daughter, yes. But she was also her mother’s daughter.

And most importantly, she was Marinette Quinzel-Isley. Her own damned person. The Chosen wielder of the Creation miraculous. And she would never bow down and be used by anyone, ever again.

Tikki’s words from so long ago echoed in her mind. Resounded even louder than Joker’s laughter;

“That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good.”

And wasn’t that everything Marinette had ever done? It was a part of her now. Like a tattoo she had inked into her very soul.

She took the chaos she was given, and turned it into something beautiful. And right now? Right now, the most beautiful thing she could think of was Joker’s face when she slammed her fist into it.

“Easy,” Batman repeated, but for a different reason now. Marinette’s lungs still stuttered a little, but her breathing was mostly under control. Now, he was saying it because Marinette was forcing herself to her feet. Her legs trembled under her, threatening to lay her out on the floor again. But she was every bit as stubborn as Joker, which made for a terrifying combination with her all-consuming fury. The acid had broken the mental chains Marinette had been using to hold it back, and now it burned fierce and bright in her eyes.

So Marinette kept herself up right, cognizant of Batman’s hand on her shoulder but ignoring it. She grit her teeth against the burning light of the room, everything suddenly too bright and colorful. Too vibrant. But it did little to distract her. She realized that one of her hands still gripped the heavy chain that had sent her drowning in the acid, and sent a snarl at her darling, jackass of a father as she whipped it out right towards him.

“Marinette!” Batman yelled, his grip tightening on her shoulder. But he didn��t pull her back, which spoke louder than any words he could have said to her right then. He wouldn’t save Joker from his daughter, he knew the man deserved at least this much pain. And sure enough, the metal links slammed right into Joker’s side, winding around him like a crushing whip.

But that was all Marinette had the strength to do. As soon as she saw Joker’s body hit the floor, writhing in agony and painfully loud cackles, her hand let go of the chain and her body tumbled down. Batman caught her.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, get Joker back to Arkham,” Batman’s order faded in and out of focus. Now that her most pressing desire was taken care of, the effects of the acid reared their ugly heads with renewed ferocity. Everything was too bright, too loud, and her thoughts echoed in her head like voices wrestling for supremacy. “Robin, Black Bat, stay on alert. Harley said that she’s incredibly trained,” he warned his partners. Marinette didn’t begrudge him, the only other two people who had survived being dunked into those chemicals hadn’t exactly treated him with kindness and pacifism. But she could barely focus on them anyway, too distracted by trying to reign in the chaos in her mind.

But Joker would never stay silent, even as he was dragged away in chains.

“Hehehahahahaha! Paper white, paper white!” He jeered cheerfully. “That’s my girl! Violent just like Papa!” Red hood knocked him out with a harsh punch to the side of his neck before he could say another word. But it was enough— enough for Marinette to gasp in realization.

Her skin. It was paper white, just like his. Not even Harley’s skin had been bleached like the Joker’s after her dip in the acid. That had always been makeup. Her mom had a healthy, peachy complexion like anyone else. A complexion Marinette had shared— until now. Now, she was unhealthily pale. Just like him.

A painful screech tore itself from her already raw throat, and Marinette’s fingernails immediately began to tear at her own skin. Red. Red was better than white— she didn’t want to look like him. She couldn’t. White was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Marinette! Stop!” Strong hands clamped around her wrists, pulling her hands away from herself even as she wriggled and tried to keep clawing at herself.

“No! No no no!” Marinette howled. “I don’t wanna look like him! I don’t wanna be like him!” She managed to get one hand free and immediately tried to tear away at her face. Batman was able to wrestle her arm away before she could do any damage besides a few angry red lines. “I refuse! I refuse! I refuse!” She shook her head, not feeling as tears flung themselves off her cheeks.

“Okay,” Batman’s voice was solid again, soft and grumbly and stable. She grabbed at it again, drawn to anything that might help bring her stability. She needed his unflappable attitude right then, and he probably didn’t even realize how badly. “That’s good. But you don’t need to rip your skin off to do that, you know that right?”

Marinette hiccuped, finally sinking down to sob as the weight of everything she had lost pressed down over the chaos of deafening light and blinding sound that continued to jumble around inside her head. “He changed me,” she choked out. Batman nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him.

“He did.”

“Th-that f-fucking bastard,” Marinette managed a sad chuckle before devolving right back into sobs. “I wo-worked so h-hard. N-never hurt any-anybody. Never… never yelled. Ne-never hit… Not people who didn’t attack f-first.”

“I know. Your mom told me,” he confirmed calmly. Solid, tethering. Marinette swallowed another gulp of air, trying to calm down. But everything was too much.

“Mom!” She suddenly realized out loud, turning and grabbing at Batman’s chest, clinging to his uniform. She didn’t even care that she almost sliced herself on a batarang, she clung to him desperately with wide, crazed eyes. “G-get Mom and… and Ivy! They… they can help. They know—“ Marinette paused to breathe, then resumed. “Momma Ivy— she gave me—gave me a diluted… th-thingy, years ago, I can’t remember—“ Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to get her mind to calm down. To work.

“The serum she gave Harley?” He asked. “The one that made her immune to poisons, and gave her increased physical abilities?”

“That!” Marinette agreed frantically, nodding. “I was too— too little, to give the real thing, so she diluted it,” she swallowed her spit and winced when it burned her throat. “It… I think it’s helping with the—the—the—“

“The chemical’s effects?” Batman suddenly sounded like he was paying much more attention than before, his shoulders a little straighter at her explanation. “You think it’s slowing down or numbing what it did to your mom and Joker?” Marinette couldn’t talk anymore, it hurt too much. Everything hurt too much, so she just nodded. “Good. That’s good, Marinette. Robin! Get Harley and Ivy down here, now!”

That was when the voices started. Sometime during the ten minutes it took to get her Mom and Ivy to her, they had apparently been waiting nearby anxiously incase the Bats had needed backup, the voices had built from ominous whispers to devious shouts, ordering her to do things like slam her elbow into Batman’s throat or see what happened if she splashed Robin with some of the acid that was still on the ground.

Her body didn’t move. She kept herself carefully still, focusing on ignoring her impulse to listen to one of the voices. She was still lucid enough to know that she would regret it if she did any of that. That the Bats were more on her side than any of the voices or the Joker were. But it was growing painful, and Harley and Ivy walked in to Batman trying to keep Marinette from hitting her own head. She had devolved to trying to knock herself out to get the voices to be quiet.

“Shut up,” she hissed, her voice hoarse and gravelly. “Shut up, shut up, shut. Up!” She was clearly talking to herself, her eyes screwed shut as she continued to try and hit her head. Harley gasped, hands flying to her mouth and eyes watering at the sight. This was something she had hoped she would never see.

“Harls,” Ivy spoke softly, putting a gentle arm around her wife’s back in support. It hurt Ivy to see Marinette in so much agony, but she knew it pained Harley even more. And much more personally. “Come on. We can help.”

“Y-you’re right,” Harley agreed shakily, taking a deep breath to try and compose herself before they both approached their daughter. Batman didn’t let go of Marinette, but did lean out of the way to give them access to her.

“Honeycake?” Harley called out softly, a little unsure how the chemicals were affecting her baby’s personality right then. The first few days were going to be the worst, and she knew that. The Dunk never took it easy on it’s victims. Marinette gasped, stopping her muttering and raising her head to look at Harley with wide eyes.

“Momma?”

Harley had to swallow heavily to shove back the sob that wanted to bubble up out of her. She had to be strong for her baby. She couldn’t break yet. But Marinette hadn’t called her Momma since she was little, now she called Pamela ‘Momma Ivy’ and her just ‘Mom’.

“It’s me, sugarplum,” she assured her daughter, kneeling down and cupping one of Marinette’s cheeks in her palm. And that was when she noticed it, and couldn’t help but widen her eyes in shock. But Marinette’s senses were so sensitive that she noticed it right away, and stiffened.

“Wh-what is it?” She grew frantic when Harley didn’t immediately respond, only winced in sympathy. Marinette knew that wasn’t good. “Mom? What is it? What did he do? What else did he do to me?”

“Darling,” Harley started, licking her lips nervously. “My sweet baby girl, your right eye… it’s green now, sugar.”

Marinette’s world froze. She tried to smile, but it came out lopsided and disbelieving. “No,” she somehow managed to breathe. “No, mom, I have your eyes. Your blue eyes. I love your eyes,” Her voice steadily got more and more panicked as she went on, not wanting to accept what her mother was clearly seeing. She watched as Harley’s face broke a little, a few tears escaping before the older woman could stop them. Marinette shook her head again, slipping her tiny wrist out of Batman’s hold and raising it to her eye. “No. It’s one of his tricks. He—he must have slipped a contact in my eye when I was passed out, that’s— that’s— that’s all—“ but her fingertip met her normal eye. No contact to be felt. Marinette’s hand fell into her lap limply. The room was absolutely silent as everyone gave her a few seconds to process just how much she had been changed, entirely against her will. She opened and closed her mouth, not sure whether she wanted to yell or curse or cry. Instead, her voice just came out in a very tiny, broken:

“...fuck.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette had gone mostly mute. She would say a word here or there, but for the most part she was doing a good impression of a vegetable. She stayed silent, as still as possible, and just stared at the ceiling of her hospital room.

She had been like that for the past two weeks they had been monitoring her in the Acid’s aftermath. Her ribs, which had turned out to only be bruised thankfully enough, had healed. Her cheek and torso were healed up too, only the barest hint of sickly yellow to show as a reminder of Joker’s hits on her. Sometimes the cameras would catch her talking to seemingly empty air, only for a nurse to rush in and see that Marinette had gone silent yet again.

Tikki was doing her best to help. She had been separated from Marinette, but Pamela had found Marinette’s purse and returned it— and subsequently Tikki— when they had gotten her to the hospital. She was the only person Marinette regularly spoke to, because Marinette knew Tikki understood. Tikki had been around since the Big Bang, she had seen worse things than a little insanity. Tikki had always been there to help her feel at ease with her mind and body. She shared a piece of Tikki’s soul, even, according to the tiny god.

But talking to anyone else was too hard. Too scary. She still had those damned voices at war in her mind, trying to convince her to do things that made her lock her joints and keep her body absolutely still before she acted on any of the coaxes. Possibilities she had never considered before came startlingly easy to her mind now— like how it would only take two seconds to tear her IV out and stab it into her nurse’s eye. How she could use her blanket to strangle Momma Ivy, or how she could fake jumping out the window and Harley wouldn’t waste a second trying to save her.

They were horrible thoughts. Intrusive, ugly, and far too loud. She didn’t want to act on any of them, but sometimes she found her fingers twitching only a second before she could follow through on one.

She spent a lot of time meditating, because of it. Which is why most people thought she was ignoring them. She didn’t mean to, she just needed to meditate. It was like her brain was a giant room filled with filing cabinets that held her thoughts and emotions. Her whole life, Marinette had carefully kept this room alphabetized, organized, and neat. Every file in its correct drawer. Until Joker had come along, and ripped the entire place apart. Tore certain files in half, broke her cabinets, ruined her filing system. And now she had to put the room back together, one drawer and piece of paper at a time.

That’s what the meditation was doing. She was getting reacquainted with herself. Learning what had changed in her mind and trying to adjust. She couldn’t be the old Marinette anymore, but she’d be damned if she let the Joker turn her into someone ugly like him.

So she needed time.

One day, towards the end of those two weeks, she got a visitor slipping through her window. Considering her room was on the tenth floor, she had it pretty narrowed down as to who it could be. Batman had visited her every night, a silent shadow in the corner, but he had already left for the day so it couldn’t be him. None of the other bats had dropped by after the second day.

She turned her head to see that that was now changed; Red Hood sat on her windowsill with one leg inside the room and the other bent on the sill itself. He looked the very picture of comfort despite being a stiff wind (or quick shove— no, bad brain) away from falling to his death. And then Hood took off his helmet, which was ugly enough to inspire some of the more violent suggestions in her brain and make them seem appealing.

“Ya know. Red Hood used to be what Joker called himself,” were the first words out of the vigilante’s mouth. Marinette’s eyebrows pulled down, and it was clear she was confused (and a little angry) at what he told her. He grinned, his eyes still hidden by the domino mask on his face. “Eh. The bastard killed me, ya know. I was the second Robin, a lifetime ago.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at that, and the violent voices dimmed and seemed to grow muffled. Marinette couldn’t quite understand what they were trying to tell her anymore, which made her figure that she had better pay attention to what Hood had to say. She licked her dry lips, and spoke softly. Her throat was still damaged from the acid, so she couldn’t speak very loudly yet.

“Then how are you… you know, here?”

The man chuckled. “Another group of assholes happens to have a magic pit in their basement. It’s a glowing green lake, ten different types of bad news. But it brings people back to life, and they dunked me in it without even caring for a second if I even wanted to come back.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed all on their own. It seemed to sink into her brain all at once, a simple:

Oh. He gets it.

“I guess the water doesn’t take it easy on your brain, either?” She hazarded an educated guess. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Not at all. I went off the deep end for a while, and killed a lotta people. They deserved it at least, but I don’t like how violent I was back then. Before I learned how to cope. Attacked people who were innocent. Red Robin almost died when I attacked him, back then, when he was just Robin.”

“Then why’d you keep calling yourself Red Hood?” She asked, tilting her head. He finally turned his head to look straight at her instead of just staring out the window. His grin widened, but it was lopsided. The grin of someone who was healed from some serious shit, but knew that it would always ache. A bittersweet expression.

“Cuz he doesn’t own that name. I made it into something that stands for at least a little good. Something that scares the assholes who don’t care about killing or abusing innocent people. Hell, some people take comfort in the name Red Hood now. And you know what that means?”

Marinette shook her head, and his grin widened into a shark-like smile.

“It means I stole it from him. The name Red Hood. He’ll never use it again, and now it stands for the opposite of anything he’d agree with. You can do that too, you know. Find something to steal from him, or use something he gave you, and make it your own.”

“Turn the chaos into something good,” Marinette said dreamily, clearly quoting someone. Red Hood nodded.

“Exactly. It’s not gonna be easy, but you got the choice here. You ain’t going back to who you used to be, but you can take the victory away from him.”

“... make him regret ever dunking me in that stupid vat,” she agreed, narrowing her eyes as they filled with determination for the first time since her body hit the acid. “He wants a puppet, an obedient little doll, I’ll give him Annabel.”

“There ya go,” The vigilante slid off the windowsill and approached her bed, holding out his hand for a shake. “I can help you get to that. What do ya say?”

Marinette was silent for a long minute, staring straight into his masked eyes. And then, a slow smile spread over her lips. “I got one question, Red Hood.”

“Shoot.”

“How do you feel about black cats?”

—*—*—*—*—*

This took four hours, holy hell. I’m actually happy with how this turned out. What do you guys think? I even got to max length on Tumblr 😂

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #jasonette #bio!dad joker #bio!mom harley quinn #Poison Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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love-peterparker · 3 years

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In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn’t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

#In Extremis #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

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the-avengers-ate-my-tongue · 4 years

Text

Scars (Smut)

Scars

Summary: You hadn't seen Will ever since the day he left you to chase Hannibal in Florence, finding out after a while that he got married to someone else. But with the murders of the tooth fairy, Jack asked him to come back to help, and he couldn't stay away anymore, showing up for a visit. Will the old scars of your heart burst open in new wounds or heal completely?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, spoilers from season 3.

Word count: 3.381

A/n: this is the first smut I write in English, it's not my first language, so I hope it's alright. Any mistakes or anything, just let me know. This is another one with my boi Will, I just love him so much AAAAAA

As I read The Wuthering Heights for the hundredth time sitting in the living room, I heard someone ring the doorbell. I sighed, staring at the clock. It was still early. The person I was expecting would just come in, after all, Alana was a close friend and she knew she was allowed to do so. I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't expecting anybody else.

My dog, Sally, started to bark thunderously, sniffing under the door. I closed the book lethargicly, rolling my eyes as I got up the couch in a lazy mood, walking to the door and opening without asking who was outside, realizing perhaps too soon it was a mistake.

Will Graham stared at me, a light smile in his handsome face that didn't reach his eyes. I felt like something was twitching my stomach, and probably turned albescent. I hadn't seen him in over three years. Alana warned me he was back in town to work on the tooth fairy's case, but I didn't think he would stop by for a visit. Not after so long.

"Good to see you, Y/n." He tried, obtaining no response of mine. "I… I was just around the neighborhood and I wanted to see you. It's been a while."

"Who gave you my address?" I retorted, probably sounding more hostile than I intended. He stepped back, scratching the back of his neck, probably already regretting the impulsive idea.

"Jack."

"Of course he did. What else did he tell you?"

"Was there anything else he should've told me?" I searched his face for any sign of emotions, but didn't get anything that could tell me what he was feeling. The old Will was someone I could always read, no matter what. After Hannibal came along, he just started to show less and less emotions, till his face became a cold mask, his deep eyes empty, opaque. I missed the sweet, caring Will.

I was just standing there, silent. Sally found some space between my legs and managed to get out the house, launching at Will, wagging her tail and trying to get close enough of his ears so she could lick them. Will laughed lightly, crouching down to pet her.

"Who's this?" He asked, scratching behind her ears. I crossed my arms, I gave everything to that dog, undying love, a bed, high quality food, and now she backstabs me.

"That's Sally. She's a stray I took in one year and a half ago. Sally, sweetheart, come inside." I whistled once and she obeyed, running through my legs again. I sighed, stepping away from the door so he could come in. Maybe he wouldn't stay for long if I just let him in. He hesitated, but entered, passing through me. I could smell the air as he passed, he still used the same aftershave. That hurt even more, and I could feel my eyes watering a little. Why did he have to come? Why was he here? What does he want?

I tried to hide it, opening the kitchen door so Sally could play in the backyard, then walking to the sideboard where I kept whisky.

"Would you like some?" I inquired, still not feeling safe enough to face him. "I'm pouring myself one."

"Sure. Please. Neat." He replied, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching every single movement I made. That made my hands tremble a bit, and I cursed in a whisper when I spilled a little bit of the drink. So fucking clumsy.

I finally faced him when I felt my eyes get dryer, smiling lightly as I gave him the glass of whisky, neat. Our fingers touched a bit and I sat beside him, albeit a little far, taking a long sip of my glass. We stayed like that for a few minutes, two strangers that used to know each other, love each other. My eyes traveled through his face and I distinguished some new scars, probably from the great encounter with Hannibal Lecter and Mason Verger a few years ago. I remembered the way I used to kiss every single scar he had, I loved every part of Will, his scars were part of his story, part of who he was.

He lowered his eyes for a moment, smiling as he saw the book standing on the coffee table.

"Is it still your favorite? Wuthering Heights." He grabbed the book, opening the first page. There was the name I didn't use anymore. Y/n Graham. He gave me that edition as a Christmas gift a long time ago, and I couldn't get rid of it, fantasizing that after such a long time, I could still feel Will's scent in it.

"Undoubtedly. Every time I read it it's like the first. Except maybe now it's even more bitter." I avoided facing him, staring at the book, suddenly feeling pretty silly. He didn't ask. He knew why.

"I suppose Heathcliff's still your favorite character."

"Now more than even, guess I finally understand his suffering." I regretted sounding so harsh, but it was said now. Will clenched his jaw.

"So you're saying I'm your Catherine?"

"I don't know. Am I?" I teased, hugging my body protectively. "Why are you here, Will? Why did you have to come? To torment me? You left three years ago after I begged you to stay, you just had to go after Hannibal, pursue your hunt. I allowed you to go, but I couldn't be there when you returned. I didn't even know you would return alive or if I would see a miserable Jack Crawford knocking on my door with grief in his face. I wouldn't bear it. So I left, but I kept expecting you to come find me if you ever got back. Then, Hannibal was finally arrested. I thought it was finally over, but you never came. You left again, and a while later I heard…"

My eyes traveled through his hands and I saw it. The wedding ring. That hurt so much I finally felt tears wetting my face, and dismissed them quickly with one hand.

"So it is true. You did get married." My voice sounded venomous, sharp as a knife. "Lucky girl. We didn't even get to that stage. Engagement was the maximum."

He was silent, allowing me to vent. As I haven't done that a lot with Alana already. His eyes were finally wet, finally some emotion on his face. That handsome face. That face I would never get tired of. I wanted to kiss them away, hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but it wouldn't. That teacup would never gather itself up again. We were two broken souls.

"I thought you wouldn't want me anymore. I wasn't the man you once met, the man you fell for, I was no longer good for you, if I ever have been. Hannibal changed me in ways you could never understand, ways even I don't understand."

"Hannibal changed all of us. Like a poison ivy that found its way into our cores and grew roots there. I can still feel his damage inside me, like… A cancer. It spreads. It tastes like metal at the tip of my tongue. I saw his face in my dreams for a very long time after you left. I still see him sometimes, not necessarily in my dreams…" I stopped talking as he grabbed my hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. I realized how much I missed his hands. They were a little rough due to how much he worked with them, but it never bothered me. It was ridiculous how much he could still affect me with a single touch, a look.

"I wanted to start over. Leave everything behind. I wanted to… Flee from that darkness that nested me. But it followed me, as it does wherever I go. I wanted someone pure, so it could contain it, or even diminish it. But you, Y/n… You never left my mind. I could never suppress you." He raised his hand, touching my cheek with cold, pale fingers. That touch made me close my eyes, his voice working like a balsam inside of me. I sighed, totally giving in.

Will got closer, his lips touching mine with such delicacy. I touched his hair, grabbing some on the back of his neck, pulling it lightly. That made him release a low groan, as the kiss started to get deeper. I moved my body, wanting to stay as close to him as the laws of physics allowed, and when I felt his tongue touch mine, fireworks eclode from my chest, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's.

I still loved him, of course I did. I never stopped. All the bitterness he left with his departure started to boil on my chest, becoming something else, something I couldn't figure out yet. His lips moved from mine to my neck, and I moaned a little louder, sinking my nails on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to my thigh and I allowed myself to lie down on the couch, pulling him with me. He lifted my leg and I embraced his waist with them, feelings mixtured inside my chest. That was wrong, he was a married man now. He had a wife waiting for him back home.

But, for a moment while he stared at me, our foreheads glued together, I saw my Will in his eyes. I saw the Will I first met, the socially awkward man Alana introduced me years ago and couldn't even stare me in the eyes, the kind, caring man I once knew. One single tear fell from his eye, and I knew he was probably conflicted as well. I kissed it away, kissing his lips again, a deep, slow kiss that made my insides chiver. I needed him so much. Even if it was just one time. Just for today. I needed that kind of closure.

I unbottoned his shirt, sinking my fingers into the skin of his biceps. He threw it on the floor, going for my clothes, and I thanked myself mentally for a moment for wearing a dress. He'd seen it before, he'd taken it off many times. He lifted the piece of clothing above my head and I threw it away gladly, kissing his neck while opening his pants. He kicked off his shoes, doing the same with the pants and underwear as I took off my bra. He took a while to stare at my body, his pupils so dilated with lust his eyes were almost completely black.

"No one looks at me the way you do." I said, noticing I haven't heard that tone in my voice for a very long time.

He pulled my panties off and rested his hips on mine, shutting his eyes as he slipped slowly inside of me. I let out a low gasp, trying to stabilize my breathing. Will hid his face on my neck and I could feel his hot breathing and the light scratches of his beard. Still slowly, he started to move inside me, thrusting back and forth. I bit my bottom lip as I tried to suppress a groan, and one of his hands grabbed my breast, his thumb stimulating the nipple. Will knew all my "buttons". Where to push, where to hold, so I could melt in his hands.

He started to thrust faster and faster, and I could feel the familiar feeling growing at the bottom of my stomach. A few more minutes and I lifted my head up, shutting my eyes as the pleasure started to grow.

"No." Will said almost in a whisper, pulling my chin down. "Let me see your face. I need it."

I stared at him while we both climaxed, a loud cry leaving my lips and Will's almost louder groan echoing through my ears. He dropped his body on mine, both of us covered in sweat and bodily fluids. We stayed that way until we could breathe normally again, his head on my chest and my fingers playing with his hair.

I wanted to say so many things. How much I loved him. How much I wanted him to stay. How much I've missed him. But he knew. He always knew. After that, we showered together to get rid of the sweat, and even then we couldn't stay away from each other. He hugged me while the water washed our body, kissing sometimes my lips, sometimes my forehead, my neck, my shoulder. I kissed every single one of his scars, as I used to do. I thought I'd seen tears on his face, but it might have been the water pouring from the shower.

After we finished the shower, he got dressed and I put on a robe, my hair wetting the silk. Will took my face in his hands, kissing my lips with tenderness. I wanted to ask him to stay. He knew that. I wanted him to leave before I made a fool of myself.

He was still holding my face when the door suddenly opened and I pushed him away quickly.

Alana entered, looking from Will to me, and I knew I would get scolded later for that. She noticed, always cunning.

"Well, just look what the cat dragged in." She said with sarcasm, the door still open. "Hi, Will. Long time no see."

"Alana." He said, seeming surprised. She didn't have time to answer, though. Her son, Morgan, entered the house accompanied by my little world.

"Mommy!" The dark haired child ran to me, bringing a smile to my face as I crouched down to hug him.

"My beautiful boy! Did you have fun at the zoo?" I asked, forgetting about Will's presence for a while. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble, Alana. Henry, did you behave?"

"Mommy, we saw a lion! He roared, and then we saw the giraffes, and the tiger…"

"Look at you dodging my question! Very canny." I laughed, hugging him again.

"He always behaves, you know that. He's a good kid." Alana answered, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring directly at Will.

I looked at him. His eyes were on Henry, he seemed shocked, astonished.

"I'll be on my way, then. I'll call you later." She said almost like a threat, making me smile.

"Okay. Bye, Morgan. Send my regards to Margot, Alana, and come to dinner at the end of the week."

"Will do. See you around, Will." She closed the door behind her, leaving me with the two people I loved the most.

"Henry, this is Will. He's an old friend of mommy's. Won't you say hello?" I brought him closer to Will, and he got down on his knees, his eyes wet.

"Hi, Henry." He greeted, smiling with joy. Real joy. I smiled back, caressing Henry's hair. "It's nice meeting you."

"Hi." He replied with shyness, hiding behind my body. That made me laugh lightly.

"Baby, why don't you go upstairs and draw a picture of that lion you saw? How about that?" I asked him, kissing the top of his head.

"Okay, mommy." He started to climb up the stairs as Will still stared at him, seeming amazed.

"Is he… Is he…" Will tried to formulate his words, emotion breaking his voice.

"Yes. He's yours. Not difficult to notice, right? He looks just like you." I replied, wiping the tears away. "I found out I was pregnant a few days after you left. When you came back and Hannibal was arrested, I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to stick with me just because of the baby, so I just… Didn't. He was about a year old when I found out you got married. Alana is his godmother, she helped me so much. She and Margot. He's just a little younger than their son, Morgan, they're best friends. Henry's very smart. He's a joyful child. He's kind, caring to others. He reminds me of you all the time. He's my biggest accomplishment."

Will's face was blushed from crying, but he smiled through the tears, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Mommy!" Henry called from the top of the stairs, crayons on his hands. "Can I show Hannibal the drawing?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I grimaced, feeling Will's gaze on me. He wasn't supposed to find out that way, I didn't even have the time to tell him slowly so I could try to explain what made no sense.

"Ahn… Sure, honey. Sure. If you want. Now go to your room for a bit, okay? Mommy will see you in a minute, and then you can show me the drawing." I waited until he entered the room, hearing the door shut. I turned myself to Will.

"Did I hear it right? Hannibal?" Will raised his voice a little and I gestured him to keep his voice down. "Hannibal has seen the kid? You're taking him to see Hannibal?"

"I know how it sounds, just let me explain…" I asked, noticing the change in his eyes. They were once again cold, but sharp. He was angry.

"How do you explain this? Y/n? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes! Yes, I fucking have! I lost my mind when you left, goddamnit!" I screamed, covering my mouth, hoping Henry would not come out of his bedroom. "Hannibal was the last link I had with you. So I sought comfort with the only one who would understand what was like to lose you. Because no one fucking did. Even Alana couldn't help me. So yes, I turned to Hannibal. Because he knows what's like to love you, to ache for you. And you don't get to judge me for that."

Will's eyes were wide, like he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"Besides…" I sniffed, rubbing my face with my hands "Hannibal cares for him. I know it. And Henry just adores him, Will, you should see…"

"My God, listen to what you're saying, Y/n! Listen to yourself!" He grabbed my face with his hands a little roughly, making me hold his wrists. "He's a killer. He's a cold killer. Can't you see how dangerous it is?"

"Well, we're all fucking killers!" I pushed him away, breathing hard. "Or have you forgotten about it? The night we killed Randall Tier? You really think that wouldn't stain me? Or maybe you do, and that's why you married another woman, with all her purity, because you couldn't bear to see how much you and Hannibal have broken me!"

He kept staring at me with that look in his eyes, the cold, sharp look that made me shiver. For a moment, I felt the danger of him trying to take my kid away. Would he even consider that? No. No one would take my child away from me. He was mine.

"This was a bad idea, I should've never allowed you to come inside. Please, leave." I asked, pointing to the door.

He stayed put.

"Will, you better leave. Now. I'm warning you." I stepped away from him, but he pulled me closer, hugging me tightly. I hid my face in his chest, sobbing, hitting him weakly on the shoulders with my fists. "Just go, please. Just go."

"We'll figure it out. Everything will be fine." He kissed me for the last time, letting me go. I knew he would be back. He stared at me once more, and finally left, closing the door behind me.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" I heard Henry's voice and turned to look at him coming down the stairs, kneeling to hug him. "Please mommy, don't cry!"

"It's okay, baby. Mommy is fine. Everything will be okay. How about a nice bath before we go see Hannibal, uh? Let's go."

"With bubbles?" He asked, clapping in joy. I smiled back to him, caressing his hair.

"With bubbles. Lots of bubbles." I kissed the top of his head and rushed him to the bathroom, an uneasy feeling pumping on my chest. I knew that wouldn't be the last time I saw Will. He would be back. Yes, he would.

#hannibal #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham headcanon #will graham imagine #hannibal imagine #will graham x reader #alana bloom #alana bloom imagine

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vikingqueer · 3 years

Text

music recommendations because i have some thoughts™

i don't wanna be that person who's like "my music taste is so weird lol" but i find that very often most of my friends don't really care for the music i like so i thought i'd just make a long ass post about it on tumblr instead. Fair warning, I'm very passionate about MIKA and The Mechanisms and so this very quickly got VERY long because it is part of my ongoing campaign to convince people to listen to mika and the mechs.

1) MIKA in general, but especially My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019) and No Place In Heaven (2015) (especially the Deluxe version!!)

MIKA is a kind of British singer (half Lebanese, grew up in France blabla), and you probably know him for Grace Kelly and Relax, Take It Easy from his first album Life In Cartoon Motion from 2007. He writes a lot of FUN music, interspersed with the occasional slightly sadder song, especially when looking at an album like No Place In Heaven, which contains a lot of songs with gay themes, resulting in some songs that are just a little bit ouch. He's originally classically trained and has a frankly RIDICULOUS range and idk he just writes very good pop music. Also I have so much respect for that time he talked about how a lot of pop is very fake, with like expensive cars and stilettos and mini skirts in the snow and said "Because I walk down the street, and I don't see any of that. I see fat women and gay men. I don't know... That's real". He's written 5 albums; My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019), No Place In Heaven (2015), The Origin Of Love (2012), The Boy Who Knew Too Much (2009), and Life In Cartoon Motion (2007).

For starters, I recommend listening to Last Party, Origin Of Love, Grace Kelly, Blame It On The Girls, Blue, Happy Ending, Pick Up Off The Floor, Last Party, Underwater, Tomorrow and Tiny Love (yes this is a long list but i REALLY love MIKA). If you want a slightly broader palette that's not just my favourites, I recommend the Mika starter pack on spotify.

2) The Mechanisms. I warn you. I am making this a thing. I have been obsessed with the mechs since last march.

Boy, where to start? The Mechanisms were a British 9 member space pirate story-telling cabaret that "died" in January 2020. They rewrite songs to fit retellings of various stories. I don't even know what genre I'd describe them as, but probably folk but steam-punk?? Their 4 "main" albums are concept albums, and I honestly just recommend listening to the from beginning to end in chronological order. A good way to get into the mechs is also to listen to UDAD and then watching the live show on youtube or alternately try giving Death To The Mechanisms a listen, to get good quality live show audio of TBI and various other stuff. Also, it was streamed on YouTube and someone combined the footage with the album audio and it rocks. Really, I think the mechs' best selling points are honestly just their concept albums:

Once Upon a Time (In Space) Their first album from 2012. I'd say this is the most "easily digestible" for the general public, since it's a retelling of various fairytales. So, what if Old King Cole was in fact not merry, but rather a cold-blooded dictator, intent on colonising as much of the galaxy as possible. What if Snow White was a general, looking to avenge what King Cole did to her sister, Rose. What if Cinderella was to be wedded to Rose the day that King Cole attacked in order to kidnap Rose? But y'know, In Space and also like every other mechs album it's a beautiful tragedy. Fave songs are Old King Cole, Pump Shanty, and No Happy Ending.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn You guessed it, it's a story about Odysseus, or Ulysses because I guess Ulysses is easier to rhyme or fit in the meter or something, idk. Ulysses is a war hero of unknown gender who is said to keep something that could take down the corrupt Olympians, meanest families in the City, in a vault to which only they know the passcode. Oedipus, Heracles, Orpheus, and Ariadne have been hired by Hades, who happens to be The Mechs' quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, to get into Ulysses' vault. I didn't care much for udad at first, but honestly it's got some real bangers and the story is really good. UDAD weirdly stands out as the only of the concept albums to not feature any gay relationships, per se. Fave songs are Riddle of the Sphinx, Favoured Son, and Underworld Blues.

High Noon over Camelot This is my favourite mehcs album. So basically, this is Arthurian legend, but it's a space western and Jonny D'Ville does a bad southern accent. This is the story of the cowboy lovers Arther, Lancelot, and Guinevere searching for the Galfridian Restricted Acces Interface Login, or GRAIL, in order to stop their world from falling into the sun. Meanwhile, Mordred and Gawaine are ruling Camelot, and Mordred has convinced Gawaine to try to establish peace with the Saxons by whom Mordred was raised, but Gawaine hates viciously. If you love getting your heart broken and songs by a fucking off the rails batshit preacher I HIGHLY recommend hnoc. Fave songs are Gunfight at the Dolorous Guard, Blood and Whiskey, and Once and Future King. Honorary mention for Hellfire because it awakens something animalistic in me.

The Bifrost Incident TBI is the frankly only good adaptation of norse mythology I've ever known of, and I say that as Dane who was literally forced to learn things about norse mythology in school because it's my heritage or whatever. I've been listening to TBI a lot lately because it's VERY good. It's definitely the most refined of the mechs' albums (because it's the newest) but also I just love a little bit of cosmic horror. 80 years ago, Odin, the All-Mother, ruler of Asgaard, launched a train through the wormhole Bifrost that would reduce the travel between Asgaard and Midgaard from 3 months to 3 days, but things didn't go quite as planned. Lyfrassir Edda of the New Midgaard Transport Police is trying to solve the case of why suddenly the train has arrived 80 years late; to figure out whether it was accident or maybe it was sabotaged by Loki, who was allegedly sentence to death her murder of Baldur, by the Midgaardian resistance led by Loki's wife Sigyn, or maybe by Thor, who was to take over after Odin, and who holds quite the grudge because he used to be a friend of Loki's. You might've heard the song Thor from this album, it's apparently quite popular. Fave songs are Loki, Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting, and Ragnarok V: End of The Line. Yet again an honorary mention: Red Signal because while Lovecraft was a bitch, his invocations are fucking RAW.

Basically, the Mechanisms do all of their performances in character as captain first mate Jonny D'Ville, quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, pilot DrumBot Brian, master-at-arms Gunpowder Tim, science officer Raphaella la Cognizi, doctor Baron Marius Von Raum (neither a baron, nor a doctor), archivist Ivy Alexandria, engineer Nastya Rasputina, and The Toy Soldier, who is, as usual, present. You can find very obscure lore about the crew of the Aurora here, tidbits on Tales To Be Told and TTBT Vol. 2, such as One Eyed Jacks, The Ignominious Demise of Dr. Pilchard, Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser, Lucky Sevens, and Lost in the Cosmos.

If you feel like listening to a full 40-50 minute album to find out if you like a band is a bit much, I recommend listening to one of the mini stories Alice, Swan Song, or Frankenstein, which are about 12, 5 and 9:30 minutes respectively.

3) The Amazing Devil You know that guy who played Jaskier in the Witcher? I got into The Amazing Devil from spotify recommending them because I listened to the mechs, and apparently Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil is the same Joey Batey who was in the Witcher. Both him and Madeleine Hyland are VERY talented singers and songwriters and their second album The Horror and the Wild makes me go out into the forest and SCREAM. I listened to it on repeat for like a month straight. I guess they'd also be considered folk, but like. New Folk. Also yes, this is another British artist, I don't know why I'm like this. I've never really gotten that into their first album, Love Run, but King slaps. As I understand there's this whole lore about the Blue Furious Boy and Scarlet Scarlet, Joey and Madeleine respectively, but unlike the Mechanisms it's actually possible to find out things about the actual real people and harder to find the obscure lore? I'm open for people to please help me. Fave songs are The Horror and the Wild, Farewell Wanderlust, and That Unwanted Animal, which is literally a third of their second album, but again. I haven't really listened to Love Run that much, and I just LOVE the harmonies on THATW. (also im gay and dramatic leave me alone)

4) dodie I have so much love for this woman. Like many others, I first knew dodie as doddleoddle on youtube. I think I first stumbled across her in probably 2015, because I distinctly already knew her before she released her first EP Sick of Losing Soulmates in 2016. I think I watched probably every video she's ever made in the span of a few weeks. I just loved her quiet sound and was absolutely HOOKED. Also she's actually the reason I got into MIKA originally, so thanks for that. Dodie just realeased her first album Build A Problem (in addition to her three EP's; the one mentioned above, You, and Human) and it slaps. Yes dodie is also British Fave songs are probably Monster, Rainbow, and In The Middle.

5) Cladia Boleyn Unfortunately, Claudia Boleyn only has three singles and that's it. She's been making content on youtube for quite a while, and that's how I first discovered her. I don't know what genre her music is, but I like it. The songs are Celesta, George, and Mother Maiden Crone, of which the latter is my favourite. I'm not saying Claudia Boleyn invented women in 2017 when she released Mother Maiden Crone, but she did. Also you guessed it, Claudia Boleyn is British.

6) Hozier I'm not about to tell you about Hozier. You know who he is. Listen to Nina Cried Power, Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene, and Shrike. Also Hozier isn't stricly British in that he is definitely from A British Isle, but Ireland is not part of the UK. Give me a break.

7) Oh Land Oh Land IS DANISH. I like her early music best, because I'm not that into the electronic sound. I guess Oh Land is just you regular old pop, but with the occasional weird vibe? Oddly enough, I like her first album Fauna best. Unfortunately I haven't really listened to her newest album Family Tree much, but it seems good? Fave songs are Frostbite, Love You Better and Family Tree. I cried on the bus, first time I listened to the Danish version of Love You Better, Elsker Dig Mer because my mother tongue always just hits harder. Also Frostbite is Oh Land doing a duet with herself which is pretty cool.

8) Oysterband This is a live recommendation. I mean they're a decent folk band and all, but they're a fucking experience live. If you like folk and you ever get the opportunity to see Oysterband live, do it. Unfortunately, yes. They are British. Either way, they are incredible on a scene and I think they deserve a mention for that.

9) Ben Platt Honestly don't know much about this guy, but he's not British and he was in Dear Evan Hansen. He released an album in 2019, Sing To Me Instead, and I just think it's a good album, there isn't really not much more to it. Fave songs are Grow As We Go, Bad Habit, and In Case You Don't Live Forever.

and thats all for now. this has been a ramble. shout out to you if you actually read all of this, especially the mechs part.

#music stuff #amalie.txt #music recommendations #mika #the mechanisms #the amazing devil #dodie #claudia boleyn #hozier #oh land #oysterband #ben platt

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fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Cheap Thrills and Expensive Snacks

Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”

Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.

Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”

The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.

“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.

“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets.

Notes: Here's my belated entry for Week 3 of Forduary: Road Trip!! I absolutely love the road trip trope, and highkey wish Ford could've gotten to see some of Stan's competitors just for the sake of how awful they were compared to the Mystery Shack. C'mon! Give Stan some credit.I also wanted an excuse for Ford to bond more with the kids before they went home, and what better way than through a never-ending roadtrip that somewhat breaks the laws of time and space?

@forduary

AO3

Ever since Ford heard the first bird chirping the morning after Weirdmageddon’s conclusion, he’s felt like a thirty-year old weight has finally been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in decades, Ford has found himself able to sleep, able to eat, able to do and say anything he pleases without having to speak in hushed tones or cast a cautious glance behind his shoulders.

For the first time since his childhood, he truly feels like himself again, and no longer like a marionette whose strings are always on the brink of snapping under pressure.

It was that first morning after the war, upon waking up before others (out of habit, mostly), that he allowed himself to truly sit and ponder on everything he’s been missing since shutting himself out from the world in his early twenties. He quickly came to the conclusion that the things he missed most were always the things he’d always had just outside of arm’s length; He missed the thrill of discovery, of exploration, the passion for his life’s work that had faded into thin air the moment that fateful first test run of the portal had failed.

Most of all, he missed companionship.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Ford needed other people in his life more than anything else, even more than Ivy League schools and research grants and all the knowledge in the universe.

He told Stan the reason he wanted to take a boat out to the Arctic was to track and contain the remnants of Weirdmageddon that had begun to spread outside of Gravity Falls. But truth be told, he would’ve asked Stan if he still wanted to travel world with him regardless, because Ford found himself wanting nothing more than to chase their childhood dream and never let it go again.

There’s a light knock on his study door as he’s scribbling down navigation notes and he’s half-expecting to see Stan when he turns to the noise. He’s instead met with Dipper and Mabel, standing side by side in his doorway.

“Got a minute?” Dipper asks.

“We have something super important to ask you!” Mabel beams.

Ford places his pen down on his desk, and smiles. “I’m listening”

“Well,” Dipper starts. “We’ve been thinking about how we didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with you this summer because...” he shrugs. “Well, because we didn’t know you existed until a few weeks ago”

“And that’s totally unfair to you!” Mabel throws her arms up in the air. “It’s not your fault you missed out on all the fun because you were trapped in another dimension”

Dipper nods. “And that got us thinking of all the time we spent with Grunkle Stan, and the road trip he took us on a few weeks ago without you. I don’t know if that was because he asked you and you said no, or if he left without telling you out of spite, or something”

“And that’s when a super genius idea came to us!” Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”

Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.

But…a glance to the calendar hanging by the doorway tells him it’s August 29th, and the twins are set to leave after their birthday party ends on the 31st.

Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”

The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.

“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.

“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets. Before Ford has even a moment to wonder what they could mean, they each pull on their tape, high five each other, and disappear into thin air.

Ford stumbles to his feet, nearly knocking his chair to the ground. Between one blink and the next the kids reappear, both of them wearing period piece costumes. The measuring tapes in their hand crackle with blue lightning.

Ford gasps. “Time tapes! Of course!” He approaches the twins in the doorway. “How did you two get ahold of these?”

“Let’s just say we have an inside to these sorts of things” Mabel replies, kicking her costume off and placing her time tape back into her sweater pocket.

“So what do you say?” Dipper steps forward. “Do you want to come with us on a road trip? We can literally go whenever we want”

“You mean when--” Mabel pauses, backtracking. “Oh, wait, you did say that”

“So what do you say, Grunkle Ford? One more adventure for the road?”

Ford’s chest fills with warmth. He’d love to; he really would, but…

“What about Stan?”

“Y’gotta give me some credit, poindexter” Stan’s voice rings from behind the corner. If Ford had to guess, it’s probably because he was waiting for his response. “Someone’s gotta tag along to babysit you three”

Ford wants to glare at his brother at the insult, but his excitement overtakes it and a grin spreads to his face instead.

“Let’s go,” he says, with all the wonder in his tone that he’d been missing for years.

Dipper and Mabel exchange nods, and take each other’s hands. With their free hands, they stretch their measuring tapes out the same length. Stan grabs on to Mabel’s shoulder, and after he and Dipper share a silent, knowing glance, Ford places his hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

Dipper and Mabel release their tape in unison, and a large flash of white light overwhelms Ford’s vision. When it finally fades, the four of them are still standing exactly where they’d been a moment ago, the only indication that anything changed being the sparks of blue lightning crackling from their clothes.

Dipper’s the first to step away from the huddle. “See?” He gestures at Ford’s wall calendar, which now displays June instead of August. “It’s practically the beginning of the summer all over again!”

Mabel breaks away to stand beside Dipper. “Now we can go anywhere we want! We could go to Portland, or Vegas, or the lost city of Atlantis, or anywhere in the world, because this bad boy prevents us from missing our bus ride home for as long as we want!”

Stan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not so fast, Mabel. I love the enthusiasm, but I’m not sure my old RV can handle driving into the ocean. Not unless Brainiac over here is willing to do some modifications on it” Stan throws an arm around Ford’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Besides, I’ve already got a plan!” Stan’s gaze shifts to Ford, and the grin on his face could split it in two. “If you think my attractions look fake, just wait ‘til you see how bad my competitors look compared to me!”

“I dunno,” Dipper frowns, scratching at his chin. “Don’t you think going back to the place where you were almost eaten by a giant spider lady is a bad idea?”

“Hey, time travel rules mean that I never met her in the first place, right?” Stan crosses his arms. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna fall for her tricks all over again just because she offers me discounted tickets, or something”

Dipper and Mabel exchange worried glances.

“Mmm, okay,” Dipper says. “But we’re keeping an eye on you”

“That’s the spirit!” Stan exclaims, and slaps Ford on the back as he backs out of the room. “I’m gonna go pack. I doubt you have anything to pack, Sixer, but we’re reconvening in the gift shop in an hour. Go…take a shower or something. I don’t wanna spend next twelve hours driving with someone smelling like that.”

Ford glares at him, but before he has time to respond Stan’s already gone. The kids must’ve slipped out close on Stan’s heels, because when Ford turns he’s alone in his room. Rolling his eyes, he walks to his couch and kneels on the ground, reaching underneath for his emergency exploration pack. It’s a backpack torn and worn from age, and comes already packed with water bottles, nutrient bars, sunscreen, and just about every brand of monster repellent known to mankind.

A nostalgic sort of smile threatens to tug at his lips. He hasn’t seen this bag since his early research days with Fiddleford. He slings it over his shoulders, and pats at his trench coat pocket to make sure his journal is still safely tucked inside. He doesn’t necessarily plan on making any more additions, but he supposes that old habits die hard.

It’s a very bulky RV, much bigger than Ford was expecting. He’d assumed that Stan calling it an RV was just an exaggeration, and that the four of them would just be piling into the Stanleymobile as they tugged some tiny trailer along that they would only would only step foot in for sleeping. But as Ford approaches, he can see Dipper and Mabel chatting at a small table through the window, and Stan rummaging through a cupboard above them, and it looks as though there’s still plenty of room to walk between them.

Mabel taps on Dipper’s shoulder, points in Ford’s direction, and both of them wave frantically out the window at him.

“Took you long enough,” Stan suddenly appears in the doorway of the camper. “Now get in. The last thing we need is to run into the past versions of those two and get bombarded with questions” He gestures with his thumb towards Dipper. “Especially him. He sees that journal sticking out of your pocket and we’re done for”

Ford chuckles. “I can only imagine,” he says, and climbs aboard behind Stan. He’s about to take the passenger side seat besides Stan when the kids frantically wave him over.

“Grunkle Ford, over here!” Mabel beams, and hops down from her seat across from Dipper. “Come sit with us!”

“This is a road trip about spending more time with you, after all” Dipper nods. “What good will it do for us if you’re sitting way up front with Stan?”

“Yeah! No good interrogation ever happens from across the room!” Mabel exclaims.

Ford raises an eyebrow, but smiles at the pair as he takes a seat across from them. “Interrogation?”

“Yep!” Dipper grins. “We already know all of the heroic scientist stuff about you…”

“But we want to know the fun Grunkle stuff about you!” Mabel finishes his sentence for him. “You favorite ice cream flavor, your first kiss, the most illegal thing you’ve ever gotten away with…you know, just the basics!”

Ford blushes. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Aww, I’m sure it’s not that bad! Dipper’s first kiss was with a merman he had to give reverse CPR to!”

“Mabel!” Dipper squeaks, his whole a dark shade of red. “That’s not fair! You know I didn’t have a choice!”

Ford can’t help the fond smile that spreads to his face. It’s moments like these that he’s going to miss the most. Sure, he’ll have anomalies, and treasure, and the whole world to explore, but he just knows that none of that is ever going to compare to time alone with the kids.

Once Stan gets the RV up and running, Ford knows there’s no going back. He and the kids swap childhood stories for hours, only pausing when Stan pulls off the side of the road to fuel up on gas and snacks. Dipper tells him of the time him and Mabel shaved their heads after a bully stuck gum in Mabel’s hair on photo day, and Ford tells them of the time that he and Stan swapped clothes on photo day just to see if they could get away with it. (They could, and Ford still has the yearbook where their photos are mislabeled as each other hidden away in his study to this day).

It’s eye opening, honestly. The young twins really are a mirror image to himself and Stan when they were kids.

“We’re here!” Stan grins, screeching the RV to a sudden halt. Upon looking out the window, the only thing Ford can see is a gift shop about the size of an outhouse and a ball of yarn about three sizes bigger than the RV. Stan stands from the driver’s seat, stretching. “You think I overcharge for my tours, Sixer? This woman charges double the price of my admission just to take a picture of this fuzz ball” He reaches underneath the driver’s seat, pulling out a large hook attached to a thick rope. “We’re only doing her a favor by stealing it! Starting from scratch with a new attraction could do her some good”

“Hmm, I dunno” Dipper shrugs. “Don’t you think that doing the exact same prank on all of your competitors in the exact same order is just gonna result in them, I dunno, pranking you again in the exact same way?”

“Nonsense!” Stan brings his hand to his chest like Dipper had offended him. “The only reason they got away with it last time is because we left poindexter here home alone in the basement. There’ll be dozens of tour groups coming through the shack today with my past self taking care of the place for me.” He taps at his forehead. “Besides, wasn’t this whole road trip your idea in the first place?” He smirks. “Are you telling me that your own idea is dumb?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing, and pouts grumpily as he hops out of the RV. Stan cackles, and hops out of the RV after him. Ford rolls his eyes, and hops out after them to take a look at his surroundings. Stan really wasn’t kidding; everything really is contained to the one parking lot with nothing to show for it but the giant ball of yarn and a converted outhouse with tie-dye tee shirts hanging from its roof.

“Don’t just stand there gawking at it!” Stan slaps him on the shoulder, grinning. “Either help the kids out or talk the old woman’s ear off long enough to distract her” he gestures with a thumb towards Dipper and Mabel, giggling and poking at each other as they tie the rope end of the hook to the RV. As Mabel walks to attach the hook to the large yarn ball, she notices Ford watching her and waves hello.

“Hey Grunkle Ford!” she shouts. “If there’s enough left over from this mound after we drag it home, I’ll knit you a sweater with it!”

Ford laughs as he approaches to help her. “I’m counting on it.”

As it turns out, she wasn’t joking. As soon as they’ve all piled back into the RV to head to the next tourist trapped, Mabel already has her sewing needles in hand and a tangled ball of multicolored yarn sitting on the table in front of her. It’s amazing watching her work, clicking the needles together so quickly yet delicately, not missing a single fold. Ford’s never seen someone pour so much love into something so particular since the early days of his research.

Ford doesn’t want to interrupt her focus, so he turns to Dipper instead.

“How long has she been able to do that?”

Dipper glances at his sister beside him. “Oh, you mean sewing? Our grandma from our mom’s side of the family taught her when she was about six.” He rolls his eyes. “Our parents tried to buy her an electronic sewing machine for our eighth birthday, but she flat out rejected it because she insisted there wouldn’t be enough love in her creations if she didn’t make them by hand”

“It’s true!” Mabel exclaims, not looking up from her sewing job. “I’m not gonna sit around and let some machine do all the work for me! How are my friends and family supposed to know I made them their sweaters with love if I didn’t sew my blood and sweat into the threads myself?”

Ford hopes she’s being metaphorical, but the sentiment is still there. “So you’re telling me that every sweater you’ve worn this summer is homemade?”

“Yep!” she beams. “All the way down to the embroidery.” She holds up the skeleton of the sweater she’s working on into the light. “You’re real lucky, Grunkle Ford. This’ll be my first sweater I’ve ever made out of stolen materials!”

Her use of the term first rather than only makes Ford laugh. The more time he spends with them, the less he wants to say goodbye to them. Stan must be the bravest man alive, being willing to send these kids home after three months with them, because if it were up to him he’d already be signing adoption papers to make them legally his.

“Stop two!” Stan yells from the front of the RV, and hops out as soon as they’re parked. Mabel places her work gently on the table, and follows Stan out without any effort. Dipper, on the other hand, takes one look out the window at where they’ve stopped and pales.

“Oh no”

Ford follows his gaze. It’s just a single story home turned on its head, absolutely nothing about it giving Ford the impression that there’s anything scary about it.

“What’s wrong?” Ford asks. “Do you get motion sickness? I learned quite a few tricks on how to deal with just the thing in the Spinning Top Dimension! You’re going to need a few things first, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find them around here somewhere-”

“N-no, it’s not that” Dipper cuts him off, face turning a dark shade of red. “The last time we were here I tried asking Grunkle Stan if he had any advice on how to talk to girls. And there was this one really cute girl, and we hit it off, but…” he rubs at his arm. “I acted like a total jerk. I treated her like she was just a number and I feel awful about it”

Ford frowns, getting down on one knee. “You’re not worried you’re going to run into her again, are you? This time loop should be stable enough to prevent her from showing up early”

Dipper’s gaze falls to the floor. “No, it’s more like…I’m so afraid of being myself that I feel like the only way I can fit in is to act like something I’m not. I just wish I could figure out a way to talk to girls without forcing myself to act like I’m better than them or something”

Ford smiles. “Dipper, I may not have any sound advice when it comes to girls, but I’ve only known you for a number of weeks, and I think anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re kind and caring and so brilliant for your age” Dipper opens his mouth to protest, but Ford shakes his head. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world suffered from anxiety and depression, my boy, and look where they are now. I have the upmost confidence that the same thing is bound to happen to you”.

Dipper’s eyes are big and wide, like he’s about to cry, but the waterworks never come. Dipper throws his arms around Ford’s neck in a hug, and Ford hugs him back. Once they pull away, they hop out of the van to join Stan and Mabel outside to prevent Stan from coming back in to yell at them. This stop is a bit less complicated, just a simple walkthrough to make sure there isn’t a hoard of tourists inside before running back out to tip the whole house right side up. It’s a lot of laughing from Stan and sprinting back to the van, and once they’re out of the parking lot and back on the highway it’s as if they never stopped at all. Mabel gets right back to working on her sweater, and Dipper gets right back to chatting up Ford for life stories.

A good portion of their stops go equally as smooth. The kids convince Ford to go on the log flume at Log Land with them which he absolutely does not throw up on, thank you very much, and Mabel nearly gets lost in a corn maze, but otherwise there’s nothing much of interest. Ford’s starting to suspect that Stan must be right, that the Mystery Shack really is the most interesting tourist trap in the entire state, until a giant mountain looms over the horizon.

“There she is,” Stan says, as if he could read his brother’s thoughts. “Her first year of opening I lost over half my usual revenue and I’ve sworn revenge on her ever since” He balls his hand into a fist and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Our biggest mistake last time was getting too attached. I say this time we run in, grab as many mummies as we can get our hands on, and book it back to the shack before Darlene notices.”

“Don’t you mean that was your biggest mistake?” Dipper quips. “Besides, didn’t we find out last time that those mummies are real dead bodies?” He shivers. “I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel about stealing them”

From the rearview mirror, Stan raises an eyebrow at Dipper. “What, you afraid their souls are gonna follow us home and haunt us? Work on your moral compass later, kid, this is about revenge” He adjusts the mirror. “Besides! What’s the chance we rescue someone who isn’t dead yet, just slowly suffocating in that nasty tasting web?”

Dipper opens his mouth to say one thing, pauses, and starts again. “Grunkle Stan, are you telling me you tried to eat the web you were trapped in?”

Stan shrugs. “Hey, I’m no stranger to chewing my way out of things. I’m just lucky I didn’t break any teeth on it, like I did with that car trunk”

As if that doesn’t raise more questions than it does answers, Stan drops the conversation entirely and doesn’t say another word until the RV pulls into the parking lot. Ford can’t even see the mountain peak when he hops out, it’s so obscured by fog that he knows wasn’t there ten minutes ago. Fog is the number one trap produced by anomalies to hunt their pray, so it’s no wonder this place gives Stan the creeps. Ford can’t even begin to imagine the size of the spider monsters the others described to him.

A shriek nearly escapes him at the feeling of something spindly crawling up his arm, but when he whips around he sees it’s just Stan running his fingers along his shoulder in a quick, scattered pattern. When he catches Ford’s eyes, he laughs so hard that tears pour down his cheeks.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Stan wheezes. “You were all oh no, mister spider half the size of my hand, don’t eat me!” he cackles, wiping at his eyes with his wrist. “C’mon, time is money, and we don’t have any to waste” he gestures to the kids, already waiting at the information booth. “If we don’t hurry the kids are gonna get on the sky tram without us”

Ford raises an eyebrow. “You? On a sky tram?”

“Dipper didn’t tell you?” Stan’s raised eyebrow matches Ford’s. “Mabel helped me conquer my fear of heights! Now I’m untouchable!”

Seventeen years of the boardwalk and all the cotton candy as bribe in the world couldn’t fix Stan’s fear of heights. Dipper and Mabel really do continue to amaze him the more Stan tells him about them.

“Right,” Ford shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Of course.”

It’s really no wonder this place boasts having the world’s slowest sky tram, because if it weren’t for the moving tree line Ford would almost think they weren’t moving at all. The bored expression on everyone else’s faces, a massive shift from the mischievous grins they’d been wearing before they got on has Ford choking down laughter. It’s about five minutes before there’s any sight of anything but tree bark, and the sun beaming directly into the glass car makes the whole thing feel like a sauna.

Still, it’s a dramatic shift in pace, and not one that Ford rejects. It’s really forcing him to slow down and think about his own feelings for once, a privilege he hasn’t had since he was in high school. Maybe it’s a little selfish of him to cherish the times he just gets to lose himself in his own head, rather than to spend so much of his time calculating plans to rescue others from danger, but-

“Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan’s voice suddenly breaks through Ford’s thoughts, startling him.

Ford blushes. “What do I think of what?”

“The new plan!” Stan gestures to Dipper with his thumb. “Since this buzzkill is so against stealing ‘real dead bodies’,” he emphasizes with air quotes, “and since we probably couldn’t shove them all in this car anyway, we’re gonna go ahead with Plan B instead; Burning down Widow’s Peak!” Stan throws his hands in the air dramatically.

Dipper beams. “That way, they can’t make any more mummies for their mummy museum, and we might be able to save a few people from suffocating to death!” Stan and Dipper high five.

“It’s a brilliant plan, but…” Ford taps at his chin. “Where do you suppose we’re going to find the fire to burn it down?”

Stan cocks an eyebrow at him. “You tell me, mister ‘setting my face on fire is faster than shaving’. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a lighter in your pocket right now. They have a bunch of prop torches in the caves, but if we pop the lightbulbs out of them and light them they should work good as usual” Stan’s mischievous grin is back on his face, a perfect reflection of when he was thirteen and pickpocketing a dollar from people’s wallets on the boardwalk to buy a box of saltwater taffy.

Turns out, it’s just as contagious now as it was back then. Ford reaches into the front pocket of his trench coat, and sure enough, comes up with a lighter. Stan erupts in laughter at the sight of it, and soon enough the entire car is infected with it. The rest of the ride up the mountain is much bubblier after that, with everyone swapping overdramatic stories of how the plan is going to go.

Widow’s Peak is much bigger than Ford was expecting. It’s a whole cave that looks like it stretches for miles, and there really are rotting skeletons hanging upside down from the cave walls and ceilings.

Ford shudders.

“Aww, c’mon, Sixer! I know for a fact this isn’t half as bad as the stuff in your journals” Stan jabs at his shoulder with his unlit torch. “Besides, didn’t you say in your own journal that most ghosts come from their old bodies not having a proper burial? He gestures at a skeleton hanging upside down from the ceiling, its left hand barely hanging on by a thread. “You think any of these guys look like their spirits were able to move on peacefully, or however it goes?” Stan shakes his head matter of-factly. “You really want some poor unsuspecting tourist to bump into a hoard of angry ghosts? Tsk tsk”

“Alright, alright” Ford raises his hands in self-defense. “I suppose you’re right”. He takes his lighter out of his pocket and tosses it to Stan. Stan lights up his own torch, helps Dipper and Mabel with theirs, and then he turns back to help light Ford’s.

“Alright,” Stan rubs his hands together the best he can with a lit torch tucked under his arms. “Everyone knows the plan. Burn as many mummies as you can find, rescue the poor suckers who are still alive, and signal if you hear Darlene coming. Since I don’t trust Sixer over here not to try and interview her and get himself in trouble again, I say I’m in charge of lookout duty.” He adjusts his collar and flattens down the wrinkles of his suits with a quick pat down. “I flirt with her just long enough to distract her, I throw my torch in her face, and then we book it out of here as fast as our legs can carry us”

Dipper still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, isn’t that exactly how you got yourself tangled up in a web last time?”

“Oh please,” Stan scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “The only reason that worked last time is ‘cause she cornered me when we were alone. Besides, where’s she gonna take me if she catches me that you can’t just throw a torch and rescue me five minutes after it happens?”

Dipper’s face darkens. “True,” he mumbles under his breath, which makes Stan laugh. Stan slaps him on the shoulder, and Dipper glares at him, but there doesn’t seem to be any malice in it.

It’s one final glance between the four of them, and they’re all running off in different directions of the cave. It’s not long before the stench of burning silk fills the air, mixed with the stench of something Ford doesn’t want to think too much about. The webs burn relatively quickly, and together they burn through half of the cave in a much faster time than Ford would’ve expected. He’s about to light up one that looks like it was left here fairly recently, until something inside it starts wiggling. Startled, Ford steps backwards until his back hits the cave wall, a soft oof escaping him.

“S’matter, poindexter?” Stan looks up from the fire he’s stomping out with his foot. “You see a widdle baby spider that freaked you out?”

Ford tries to glare at him, but the fear stabbing him in the chest doesn’t let it stick. He swallows hard, and points towards the wiggling cocoon with his torch.

“I think we have a live one” he whispers, stepping to stand beside Stan. Once Stan follows Ford’s torch with his eyes, something inside him tenses up.

“Ah, wh-what’d I tell you?” Stan’s voice shakes. “It’s probably just some poor sucker who fell for Darlene’s charms. Definitely not a gross sack of baby spider people or anything”

“R-right,” Ford swallows hard, and inches back towards the cocoon, rapidly waving his torch back and forth to potentially scare off whatever could be inside trying to break out. But the longer he waves the torch in front of the web, the more he can make out the silhouette of a regular human being.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Ford rushes forward and begins tearing at the web with his bare hands, just enough so that the man is free from the chest up. He takes large gasps of air, and upon realizing that his hands are free he begins tearing at the web himself. Once his feet are free and hit the ground, he takes one look at the Pines family, mumbles a startled thank you, and runs for his life out of the cave.

After that, the rest of the burnings go pretty smoothly. There’s significantly less living tourists in the cave than Ford would’ve expected from such a large tourist trap, and Ford’s not entirely sure whether he should find that reassuring or downright terrifying. He’s almost surprised everything went so well, until the four of them nearly collide with a woman on their way out of the cave.

She looks just as baffled to see them as Ford feels to see her.

“Can I…help you?” She asks in a thick Jersey-esque accent. The name tag pinned to her shirt reads DARLENE in large brick letters.

“No!” Dipper cuts in before neither Ford nor Stan can respond to her. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh, no. Uh, apologies if this is a restricted area, but we got lost trying to find our way back to the sky tram” he shrugs overdramatically, no doubt in attempt to show Darlene that his hands are empty. She squints at him, and for a moment Ford could swear he just saw her blink horizontally. The silence that follows, though it probably doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, feels like it drags on for ages.

Suddenly, she’s donning an overly sweet smile. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Let me walk you back. We’ve gotten more than our fair share of tourists who’ve gone missing from wandering too far into our caves, and I’d hate to have that happen to such a nice looking family like yours” She grins, flashing her unusually sharp teeth. The four of them stay quiet until they’re all packed into their tram car, and Darlene is waving sweetly at them from behind.

They each collectively sigh. “Woof, that was a close one” Stan says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. In a sudden shift of mood, he reaches over next to him and pulls Dipper into a headlock. “How’s about it for this guy’s quick thinking, huh?” he grins, and the four of them laugh until they hear a horrifying screech that makes their tram car rumble. They turn, and see Darlene emerging from the cave, the bottom half of her body replaced by that of a giant spider.

“My food!” she screams, shaking her first at the tram cars. “You burned all my food! Mark my words, I may not have gotten your names but I don’t forget faces very easily, you hear? If you ever show your face here again you’re dead meat!” She screams, yanking on her hair to reveal the rest of her spider-like body under her human disguise.

Stan simply cackles. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” he mocks, knowing well enough that she can’t hear them from inside the car. He turns his attention back to the rest of the family. “Maybe we should go and warn our past selves to bring bug spray!” He exclaims, laughing himself to near tears.

Ford only rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile on his face.

If only he’d known what he’d be missing when he turned down Stan’s offer to take this road trip with him and the kids the first time around.

The tram ride back to the parking lot is even more relaxing than the ride up. The sun is setting this time around, and even if the wind can’t really reach inside the car the whole thing just feels cooler. Most of all, he finds that the sound of the Stan and the kids’ laughter is far more welcome than any old conversation he could have in his own head.

When everyone piles back into the RV, they do not drive away immediately like they had at all the other stops. Instead, Stan turns around to face the three of them. “Well, that’s the end of that. That’s all I had planned, and we still have…” he pauses to count on his finger. “Two more months ‘til the kids have to go back home, technically. I’m all out of ideas, and I’m sure the kids have seen enough of the Gravity Falls weirdness for one summer”

He smiles to the kids, who nod and in turn smile at Ford.

“So where do you want to go now, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel says, with stars shining in her eyes. The grin spreading on Dipper’s face matches hers like two peas in a pod.

“Any place in the world. Wherever you want to go…” He pulls the time tape out of his pocket. “…For however long you want”

#my writing #gravity falls #forduary #pines family

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danijimenezv · 3 years

Text

Coercion

Prompt/Summary: Based on the lovely Christmas moodboard that @jamespotterthefirst made ❤

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Jillian Valentine), and a little bit of Bryce Lahela x Ivy Valentine (MC’s younger sister)

Warnings: nothing, mostly fluff. Maybe a swear word here and there, but nothing serious.

Word Count: 1722 words

A/N: I’ve never written anything for this fandom, so I’m tagging a few people that I’ve seen around the main tags. If you don’t want to be tagged if I miraculously write anything else, let me know, no hard feelings at all! As always, feedback would be very much appreciated!

“Absolutely not.”

Ethan stared horrified at the velvety monstrosity the younger Valentine was presenting him, while Lahela and Mirani stared expectantly at him. He shook his head vehemently one more time, in case his previous statement hadn’t been clear enough.

“Come on, Ethan.” Baz clasped a hand over his shoulder, “It’s not that bad.”

“Uh, it’s not bad at all!” Ivy Valentine exclaimed, fully offended.

“Yeah, how come he gets a normal sweater but I get an ugly Christmas sweater?” Bryce complained.

“Because you look good in anything.” Ivy fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend.

“Smooth, Valentine.” Bryce hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, immediately crashing his lips against hers.

Ethan rolled his eyes at their very public display of affection, and turned back to the papers scattered all over his desk, taking advantage of the fact that they were no longer focused on bothering him.

“Doctor Mirani, was there anything you wanted to discuss about the case?” he redirected the subject of conversation.

“Not about the case.” he grinned unapologetically when Ethan narrowed his blue eyes at him, “The day is almost over anyway, there’s nothing else to discuss about it today, and you should be trying to make yourself presentable.”

“I am presentable. And I’m sure there are things still left to do here, so you should focus on that.”

“Come on, Ethan, this is huge. It’s all everyone has been talking about.”

“What?”

“Yeah, everyone knows tonight is the night.” Baz wiggled his eyebrows, “You’re having Christmas dinner with the Valentine’s, aren’t you? That’s a big step for you and Jill.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, hating, now more than ever, how the hospital gossip traveled around. He never cared much for it as long as everyone did their jobs, never paid much attention to it, but now it involved him, his girlfriend and her family, and that was what made it all the more annoying.

Girlfriend. The word popped up in his mind in a fraction of second, and although it still felt sort of weird, it wasn’t unwelcomed. It had taken them quite a lot to get to exactly that point, namely most of it was his fault, but to be able to call Jillian Valentine his was something he was incredibly grateful for. The second-year resident and junior fellow of the diagnostics team had practically weaseled her way into his life, and she had made such an impact, with her coquettish charm and quick wit, that he could no longer imagine his life without her.

“Ramsey, please.” Ivy returned her attention to him, “You’re a grumpy old man, aren’t you supposed to like this kind of sweaters?”

“I’m not a grumpy old man.” he barely looked up from the paper he was reading, “And I’m still not wearing that thing.”

“I even got you a different shade of green to match your eyes better. More blueish, instead of the plain green.”

“Much appreciated.” he let out sarcastically.

“Bryce.” Ivy whined softly, asking her boyfriend for help.

“Ramsey, my man.” Bryce grinned widely, knowing exactly how to approach it, “I have it on good authority that Jillian would love it if you wear this sweater tonight.”

That made him falter. No amount of begging from the youngest Valentine would make a difference for him. Jillian, on the other hand, was another story entirely; at this point, he was sure there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“Super true.” Ivy caught on quickly, “She has a similar one, and she’s probably going to wear it tonight.”

“It’s less than half an hour for dinner, don’t you two have to go get ready?” Ethan tried one last time to get rid of them.

“I don’t have anywhere to be right now.” Baz pointed out, causing the older doctor’s glare to direct at him.

“Not you, them.”

“We are ready.” Bryce winked confidently, gesturing to his and Ivy’s matching red ugly Christmas sweaters.

“Jesus Christ, you two are nauseating.”

“As are you and my sister.” Ivy rolled her eyes, “But you said it yourself, it’s less than half an hour for dinner, what the hell are you waiting for?”

“I’m simply waiting for Jillian, who, unlike the three of you, is still working.”

“Or she’s changing in the locker rooms.” Bryce offered, “Ivy and I finished our surgeries a while ago. Just admit it, doc; we, surgeons, are just way better than you, medical guys.”

Ethan simply scoffed, but before he could retort back, Baz spoke up, “Wrong, but that’s a debate for another day. I should go find Zaid, and you need to get going to that dinner. You can’t be late, Ethan.”

With a wide smile on his face and a last wave, Baz exited the office, humming a catchy Christmas song softly.

“Okay, enough of this, I’m done.” Ivy marched towards him and shoved the sweater in his face aggressively, “I’m Jill’s sister, and as her boyfriend you need to keep me happy, right? So wear this tonight.”

Ivy spun around on her heels and strut right out of there without a look back. Bryce shrugged, not being able to come up with an explanation for his girlfriend’s loss of patience, and quickly followed after her, leaving the diagnostician finally alone. He inspected the item of clothing closely one last time, before cursing the youngest Valentine. Time seemed to stretch as he continued to stare at the sweater, almost with offense, before he sighed in defeat and pulled it over his clothes. He was in the middle of grumbling under his breath about the damn piece of clothing he felt forced to wear, when his favorite voice resonated from the doorway.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the delay, but I’m ready now.”

He looked up in time to see Jillian halt completely and inspect him from head to toe, but before he could offer some kind of explanation, a breath-taking smile overtook her delicate features as she spotted the sweater. And just like that, all the insults and complaints that had been swirling in his head since Ivy showed it to him disappeared, because even if he wasn’t a huge fan of it, wearing that damn sweater made it all worth it if it got his Jill to smile like that.

“You got a Christmas sweater?” she asked breathily, still staring in wide-eyed wonder at him.

“No, not those awful sweatshirts your sister and her boyfriend are sporting around proudly. This barely counts as a Christmas sweater, and it’s as far as I’ll go for the holidays.”

“Good enough for me. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Jillian walked decisively to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to reach better, while Ethan slouched slightly and wrapped his own arms around her waist. She giggled softly as Ethan ran his nose against hers, their foreheads pressed together and blue eyes boring into honey-colored ones.

“Did you wear it for me?”

“Most things I do are for you, Doctor Valentine.” he smiled softly at the adoring glint that sparked in her eyes, “But I was also coerced to wear it by your incredibly annoying younger sister.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t have to deal with Ivy as an intern, then?”

“Of course I am. She’s Harper’s problem, I already have my hands full with one Valentine on the medical team.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jill grinned, “Right?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he leaned in and kissed her, though the moment was too short-lived for Jillian’s liking, because she whined softly when he pulled away, “Now, I believe we are expected to attend Christmas dinner with your family, so we should get going. I don’t want to be late.”

“What if we just… skipped it?” one of her hands wandered slowly down the expanse of his chest, gripping the sweater and releasing it multiple times.

“Jillian Valentine, is there a reason you don’t want me to have dinner with your family?” his voice was teasing, light-hearted, but the question had a twinge of worry underneath.

“It’s not like that.” Jillian spotted his doubt immediately, with that uncanny and unexplainable ability to pick on his thoughts as if reading his mind, “It’s just… as loving as they all are, my family is a bit complicated. My siblings are a nightmare, you would know because you’ve already met Ivy. And my parents are… intense. You’re too important for me, I don’t want them to scare you away.”

“That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole day?” Ethan asked, placing his hands firmly on her hips and looking down at her with a stern expression on his face, “Jill, there’s nothing that could take me away from you. I thought you already knew that.”

“I know, I know, but I’ve just been overthinking about it.”

“Well, I promise you, there’s nothing in the world that can change the way I feel about you.”

“Okay.” she whispered, completely dazzled by the intensity of his words.

“Was that all?” he wanted to make sure.

“Yes, I promise. Nothing else. Definitely not any doubts about you or our relationship. I’m in for the long haul.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Jillian caressed his cheekbone delicately, “Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you, Ethan. After all, I was the one who fought for us, remember?”

“That you were.” he agreed, sighing in relief, “And I’m so very glad you did.”

“Me too.”

This time, when he kissed her, he made sure not to rush the moment. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, they kissed passionately and urgently, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Ethan deepened the kiss and pulled her as close as he physically could, his hands exploring the soft skin and subtle curves he already had memorized by heart. Finally, Jillian pulled apart from him, softly nibbling his lower lip before letting it go.

“Now, let’s get moving, Doctor Valentine.”

“Yes, boss.” she answered back mockingly, biting her lip to stifle her giggles.

“Jillian.” Ethan warned her.

With a heartfelt laugh, Jillian pulled away from his embrace, but entwined her fingers with his, and finally, they made their way out of the office together, ready to meet the Valentine’s for Christmas dinner.

*******************************************************************************************

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @missflashgeek, @parkerattano, @openheart12, @starrystarrytrouble, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @caseyvalentineramsey, @utterlyinevitable, @aworldoffandoms, @the-pale-goddess, @dr-ramseys-rookie, @drariellevalentine, @tsrookie, @perriewinklenerdie, @genevievemd, @drethanramslay, @openheartthot, @mvalentine, @justanotherrookie, @lucy-268, @paulfwesley, @writinghereandthere, @rookie-ramsey, @missmiimiie, @openheartfanfics, @ramseyandrys, @ruinedbypixels

#ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x jillian valentine #ethan x oc #ethan ramsey x oc #choices fic #open heart fic #open heart #dani writes

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