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#little kids get so excited to see/hear their own name on site and through that ive discovered that
corvidaedream · 2 years
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lucy's mother signs the legal documents w an X, but her older sister abigail & younger sister anna sign their own names, which backs up my decision to tell people in-character that im literate.
solomon is abigail's husband, and thomas is little elizabeth's (seemingly now-widowed) husband
i have zero idea how stephen frost was related or why he's named an heir. best i can figure out hes a second cousin maybe? they go to the same church, thats all I've got so far on stephen.
also in looking very surface-level into abigail brown bowman, i discovered lucy had at least three nieces between the ages of 6mo-4 years old at the point where im portraying her, which is really fun! the oldest is also named abigail and im genuinely very excited bc our cafe above the museum is called abigail's so little girls named abigail are constantly excitedly telling me thats their name also, and im absolutely going to tell them now about my niece
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jaegeraether · 6 months
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 20)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (20)
Masterlist (other parts here)
YFN had just received an email from the company she now worked for, Lumos. She tried to research the company and the first thing that popped up was a popular charity, followed by several other companies sharing the same name. Eventually she found her company which had nothing beyond a basic internet site and new social media accounts, so she knew they were being honest when they said they were brand new and starting up.
The salary they’d offered her was already high, with the promise of increase based on performance, both hers and Lumos’. The amount of money they were putting into the business and expenses were also much higher than she expected. Someone really wanted this to work.
She looked over at Lucy who was making her own sandcastles and smiled. Once the email had come through, Lucy had insisted she read it and took her time to mull it over. YFN loved that she was doing anything she could to let her make a future in the country, and especially around her profession. That was her Lucy. Always three steps ahead.
She took her phone out to film a little snippet of her as she made her giant sandcastle. She couldn’t help the smile on her face looking at how happy she was. Lucy’s big kid was shining through. She looked up and saw YFN filming her and grinned, gesturing to her sandcastle as if to show it off. YFN ended the video and put it away, looking at Lucy sitting in the sand, a leg either side of her creation. She was wearing black shorts, her whole body tanned from Spain, abs shining with the sunscreen YFN put on her, regardless of the clouds. Her heart felt full just watching her.
“Admiring the view?” Lucy grinned.
YFN felt her face reddening, though she didn’t know why. She wasn’t ashamed to look. She nodded, pressing her lips together to hide a cheeky smile.
“Can you send me that video, little one?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She sent the video and went back to the email on her laptop. The email was promising, and she found herself excited at everything she read.
Her phone rang and she looked at the number, Lumos. She answered it, putting it on speaker, knowing Lucy would be interested.
“YFN speaking.”
“Hi YFN, it’s Joe, how are you?” She sounded lovely, like a mum.
“Hi Joe, lovely to hear from you again. I’m great, just at the beach soaking in all of the sunshine the UK has to offer.”
She laughed. “I dare say it’s nothing compared to what you’re used to in Australia. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
“No, not at all. I was expecting this today, I’m free to chat.” She smiled at Lucy who gave her a supportive thumbs up.
“Excellent. Okay, well I thought we’d just go through the basics of what we’re hoping to accomplish as a company, our goals and along those lines. If you have the email open, we’ll just run through it together. Also, how’s the work Visa coming along?”
“Perfect, I have it open now. I’ve also spoken to my Visa agent and he’s confident they’ll have it approved by tonight. They’re happy with the contract and 6-month minimum guarantee that you’ve sent through.”
“Outstanding, that’s what we want to hear! Just send that through as soon as you receive it, or if you need any other information. Fingers crossed! Okay, let’s get started. So firstly, as you know, I’ve wanted to start this company for quite a period of time. I have a lot of friends and acquaintances in and around the industry, and we’re not seeing the movement in female football that we’ve wanted, so Lumos is a plan to change that. Now, the World Cup has been brilliant for progress, and we plan to latch onto that and keep the momentum building. Over the past year and especially the past few months, I and my friends in the industry have put our feelers out, gotten some feedback and have established interest by a lot of the players. Now, I understand it will start slow, but we’re willing to put the work in and definitely also put the funding into it.”
Lucy looked impressed, nodding as she was talking.
“That sounds fantastic, Joe..”
“I’m glad you agree! To be quite honest with you, YFN, you’ve been the lynchpin I’ve been looking for. I’ve been looking for someone with your experience and after reading your columns and seeing the interviews you’ve conducted, I’m beyond impressed. The research you put into your work, and the way you speak and ask questions to your interviewee’s are smart, and incredibly respectful. I can see that’s important to you, and it’s very important to me. We shouldn’t be asking the same boring questions, or we’ll get the same media trained answers.”
“Oh I completely agree. I was a bit worried at first that this job would encourage me to ask those simple and sometimes far too personal questions, so I’m really happy to hear you say that because people don’t realise that we can go beyond the norm of interviewing, and still remain just like that. Respectful. Not only that, but players will be more willing to open up, accept interviews, and request us if they’re comfortable around us. They’ll also want to use us to get their messages across and I know that if we do this right, the momentum will build and more players will be using us to fulfil their media duties.”
“Outstanding, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear! We’re so, so lucky that you happened to meet Katie so she could recommend you to us. We’ve been looking for you for quite a while.”
YFN was a little embarrassed, she didn’t know how to accept compliments and blushed. Lucy reached over and squeezed her leg in support. “Thanks Joe, that’s lovely to hear. I hope I can live up to your expectations, and I’m excited to get started! It’s a blank slate which means so much opportunity for the company.”
“100% agree. Any chance you’ve found our website and social media accounts?”
“I did just before you called..”
Joe laughed again. “Of course, you have. Straight into work! Excellent. We’re going to get along so well, I already know it. Our IT guy is Noel, and his contact details are in the email. Right now I’ve asked him to make the accounts all bare minimum, as I imagine you’ll want to create a theme to follow..”
“Yes! Absolutely, so I plan on organising a meeting with the whole team for Monday, I just wanted to make sure you were happy with that first..”
“Yes, please! And just for the future, this is your team, your baby. Anything involving the creation of this, meetings, team logistics, etc, all of that is yours. Obviously I’ll still like to be kept up to date with the progress and the plans, but to be completely fair with you, YFN, I run several businesses so I’m quite busy. This company is still in its start-up stages, so I’ll have much more time for it, and I do have a soft spot, this is always going to be one of my priorities, however I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page with this.”
“That’s perfect, I’ll send you through weekly updates and expenses, planning, coverage and everything we change or create along the way. I appreciate the honesty and the communication also, I think until we establish that solid footing, you and I will have to be in a lot of contact to ensure we’re achieving the expected goals, and keeping everything in budget.”
“You don’t know how much this is music to my ears.”
YFN laughed, feeling positive and happy with the plan thus-far. Joe seemed perfect, offering her everything and having the blind faith in her to start up the business almost from the ground, up. “I think we’re starting at a good time, though. We’re catching the start of the seasons, so it gives us time to iron out any issues before the finals for both the WSL and the Conti Cup. A good timeline will be for us to have full coverage by Round 5 on the Conti Cup, and January for WSL, covering both through to the Final. Then we should be fully prepped and running smoothly for the UEFA Women’s Champions League.”
“That’s a very respectable timeline and exactly my thoughts. January will be perfect if we can have full coverage by then.”
“I think it’s achievable, I’ll have a better idea after I research a bit more and talk to the team. I’m sure everyone’s keen to get started! Also, it’ll be quite a heavy work period as we start up, and then when we finally start to get footing, we’ll be expanding to make sure we have the people to cover all games and the email also says you’re hoping for international team and coverage of the other leagues in Europe?”
“Yes,” Joe sounded a litte sheepish. “I know, I know, it’s quite a high expectation, but we’ll get there eventually. Let’s start with the WSL and Continental Cup. Definitely want to be all over the UEFA Women’s Champions League, that’s the first major goal. From there, you and I can talk about expanding to cover Tier 2. Then, depending on the timeline, we want to cover Tier 3 and Tier 4 so we can encourage grassroots and young girls upcoming through the leagues. Then we want Liga F, Serie A, Feminine, etc, also following the national teams, NWSL in the US, A-Leagues in Australia and onwards.”
“Very large goals! That’s great, a lot to look forward to and to aim for. We’ll make sure to split the goals up to feel more achievable for the team, but I think if they know the long-term goal, it’ll make everyone determined and ready to settle down into the job.”
“That’s exactly what we want. The team building and team trust in each other is vital to make this business a success. Anything you need, let me know and we’ll work through it together, that includes extra positions or professionals. I imagine a recruiter may become useful if you become inundated with the logistics.”
YFN nodded, even though she couldn’t see her. She was taking notes eagerly, excited by the conversation as she responded, a little distracted as she typed. “I’ll definitely let you know if we need anything to help us expand..”
“I heard you’re meeting some of the players, also?”
YFN stopped typing and tilted her head. Lucy groaned. She looked over at Lucy who had a frown on her face, gesturing to the phone. “Um… Joe I have Lucy close by who wants to say something I think?”
Joe was aware that YFN was dating Lucy. YFN had made sure she’d told Joe, fearing a conflict of interest, especially with the need to visit Spain. Joe had had the opposite reaction. She thought it was great that YFN was so involved in the industry, knowing that dating Lucy made her closer with the inner circle of football than just being part of a media group. As for Spain, she’d encouraged her to go, offering to pay for flights and knowing that the more she was involved with Barcelona, the easier it would be to expand into Liga F and onwards. She was particularly interested in Alexia Putellas and Aitana Bonmati as they had so much influence in the sport. Joe’s ambition was multi-faceted, but positive on all fronts. She wanted to encourage the young female footballers of tomorrow, give women strong rolemodels to idolise, and to bring much needed attention to all of women’s football in general, all around the world. Popular footballers like Lucy, Alexia, Aitana, could help expedite their growth and influence.
“Of course! I assumed she was there with you and then Lucy’s post confirmed it.” She laughed.
Lucy’s post? She looked at a now cheeky looking Lucy as she passed her the phone and stole Lucy’s to check on said “post”. She’d posted the video of her building sandcastles on the beach and grinning at the camera, but more importantly, she’d posted a selfie Lucy had taken of the two of them, YFN sat in-between her legs and being pulled back by Lucy who was kissing her cheek as she smiled. Her mouth dropped open. Hard launch. She looked at the caption.
“Happy place with my happy little Australian” *red heart*
She’d tagged her and YFN looked at the phone in Lucy’s hand, unsure how it hadn’t blown up from all of the notifications it must have had. Lucy winked at her as she moved next to her, resting her hand on her thigh and stroking her thumb there.
“Hey Joe, it’s Lucy.. funny you should mention that, I actually hadn’t told YFN that just yet..”
“Hi Lucy… oh, I’m sorry! I’d heard a few little whispers from a few friends..”
Lucy laughed. “That’s okay, she had to find out eventually.” She looked at YFN who looked curiously at her gorgeously tanned athlete. She couldn’t help reaching out and playing with a few strands of Lucy’s hair that were wildly playing in the wind. “I might as well tell you both.. YFN said a while ago that one of the first things she’d want to do is to have a get-together with a few players to ask them what they want, their likes and dislikes and to start building those relationships.” YFN’s fingers stroked down the side of Lucy’s face from around her temple, down to her jaw as she watched her speak. Lucy leant into her as she did. “So a few of the girls and I made a few phone calls to get some players together for dinner tonight.”
YFN’s fingers paused on her jaw, her eyes softening and heart filling. How did she get so lucky?
“That’s fantastic! A very strong start to everything! Relationship building is the most important thing for us, we want to build and maintain those special relationships with all of the players, so this dinner tonight is going to be the perfect start for that. I speak for our whole company when I say a big thank you to you, Lucy. This is just… beyond the start I was expecting.”
“You’re welcome, and to be fair, I know a lot of the players are excited for this. As you said, word has been spreading for a while now and heating up in the last few months so we’re all excited to see this come to life. The girls I’ve spoken to have been so under represented and misrepresented for so long that they’re excited for this to happen. YFN’s going to have a lot of work, but I know she’s going be the most amazing asset for you and create magic, like she does with everything else.”
YFN’s hand dropped and she looked at Lucy with an embarrassed but thankful expression. Lucy touched that little dimple, her eyes unable to leave it. She handed the phone back to YFN who was almost crying. So much work. She wondered how busy she would be in 13 days when she needed to head to Spain. Joe was aware of it, of course, and immediately approved, reminding her that she didn’t need her permission.
They spoke for a little while longer, talking about the email and the team members they had. The call ended and YFN folded up her little note taking book, pulling the band over it. Lucy’s mouth on hers was surprising, but not unwelcome. She kissed back eagerly, tilting her head and their tongues meeting. It grew a little bit more desperate as their hands tangled in each other’s hair, and Lucy pulled her on top, straddling her in a sitting position. YFN groaned into her mouth at the feel of Lucy’s body against hers. Then her phone rang again.
She jumped, assuming it was Joe calling back and looked at the phone.
“Nan calling. Baby bro calling.”
“Oh shit, Joe really distracted me.” She answered the phone on loudspeaker, sliding off of Lucy, noticing her confused expression. “Hi Nan, hey bro.”
Lucy understood and settled herself behind YFN, legs either side of her and pulled her back to lean on her body. She pulled a blanket around them.
“Hello!”
“Hey sis.”
They changed to Facetime and it was impossible for them to not see Lucy. YFN’s nan adjusted her glasses to better see and her brother looked surprised and unbelieving.
“Oh shit, you weren’t joking.” He choked.
Lucy laughed. “Hi! It’s nice to finally meet you both. I’ve heard so much about you two.”
“Oh, YFN, she’s stunning.” Her nan said, making her choke out a little of the water she was sipping. Lucy and her brother laughed as she coughed the water out of her lungs.
“It’s not just about looks, nan!”
“No, but it certainly helps, doesn’t it?” She laughed.
YFN could feel Lucy’s whole body vibrating as she laughed behind her. She rolled her eyes knowing that Lucy loved compliments.
“Oh and I saw the photos online, very nice!”
Her nan was far past retired, she was a pensioner who spent most of her time playing games on the iPad YFN had bought her, and looking through Instagram and Facebook she’d installed on there for her. She had no idea how to use them and only had a few friends and followers, but that’s all she needed. After that, Lucy took out her phone and followed them both, making sure it was okay first and warning them about random follows that would ultimately pop up.
They spoke for a while, Lucy immediately loved by both, of course. Everybody loved Lucy. Lucy and her brother clicked surprisingly well, perhaps even better than YFN did with him, though she suspected a part of it was his idolisation of athletes and Lucy was nothing if not an athlete. She felt Lucy’s abs against her back, her strong biceps cradled around her own arms and she held her and laughed with her family like this wasn’t the first time they’d all spoken. God, that woman.
By the end of the phone call, Lucy had already managed to convince them both to come over and watch a game, offering to pay for their flights and accommodation. YFN made a mental note to argue with her about that later, or pay before Lucy could. Somehow she’d even convinced her nan who had always said she was too old for flying, Lucy managing to sweet talk her about first class and how much room and food you got. She was excited at the prospect of seeing them both. She’d seen her nan only a few weeks before, but the distance was cruel. Also, she hadn’t seen her brother in 8 months as he was living in Japan, exploring and doing god knows what.
They ended the phone call after a good period, both agreeing to come and watch England play at some point in the near future. She was excited at the thought of seeing her family soon and wriggled back into Lucy to show her happiness.
When the call disappeared from the screen, she saw the notifications and groaned nervously. She opened the post.
*Lucy Bronze MBE tagged you in a post*
*Caitlin Foord liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Caitlin Foord commented on a post you’re tagged in.*
*Jordan Nobbs liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Jordan Nobbs commented on a post you’re tagged in.*
*Alexia Putellas liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Ruesha Littlejohn liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Millie Bright liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Ridley liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Ridley commented on a post you’re tagged in.*
*Leah Williamson liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Mariona Caldentey liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Katie McCabe liked a post you’re tagged in.*
*Katie McCabe commented on a post you’re tagged in.*
She didn’t finish reading the notifications before she cleared them and put her phone away. She’d look later. Right now, she was with Lucy, and she was more than aware that she only had her for one more day. Lucy hummed her approval and kissed her temple.
“Busy third date, hm?”
“Cute lunch, majestic sandcastle, exciting work call, successful first meeting with my family… I’d call that a brilliant third date.”
Lucy nodded against her. “It’s getting late, little one. We need to go; I want us to get unpacked and showered before we go out for dinner.”
“Okay…”
“What’s on your mind? I can hear you thinking.” Lucy nuzzled behind her ear.
“I was just thinking about how I need to say goodbye to you in a day..”
“Don’t think about that.” She whispered. “Let’s enjoy it.”
“I am. My heart is starting to feel sad already though..” She turned slightly to look at Lucy. “Also, just out of curiosity, are we going to not have sex tonight, or just be quiet so Jordan doesn’t hear us?”
Lucy’s head fell back as she laughed. It was one of YFN’s favourite sounds. “Oh, we’re having sex tonight. As for the noise… I’m going to make sure you’re thinking about it for the next 13 days so… good luck staying quiet.”
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gothcade · 2 months
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Hey name all your favorite Tazio moments. And I mean every moment
LUNGES AT YOU
okay ill try to break this down in chronological order bcus i srsly cannot rank favorites
Mr Driller G cutscenes (PSX and Arcade):
when he busts through a steel wall excited hearing Susumu and Dr Z talking about traveling to Egypt to drill.
followed by him cutely telling Susumu he'll bring him back souvenirs :")
when he gets into Egypt and someone tries to talk business with him, only for him to shoot the guys conversation down in favor of seeing camels
Taizo full on lunging at Ataru in excitement after not seeing him for a long time
Taizo letting Ataru handle an excavation site on his own, being in favor of chilling with camels (and then Ataru paying the fee for his dad is very sweet :"])
Taizo awarding Susumu the Mr Driller title. the tone of his voice during it hes so proud of his baby 🥺
when he bribes an undergrounder with sweet potato rice cakes to stop the block machine
Mr Driller Ace cutscenes
he doesnt have much role in this game but when Anna enters the costume contest in a big ball gown... and Taizo says it reminded him of Masuyos wedding dress... SOBBING.
Mr Driller Drill Land cutscenes
him being absolutely enamored by the mysterious main attraction, his voice here makes me so WEAK HES SO CUTE I WANNA THROW ROCKS AT HIM
when he gets so excited that theres an attraction made for him that he not only bashes his head but almost enters the attraction without his helmet bcus hes so excited 🥺
the fucking face he makes when Ataru makes fun of him for being old. ">:T"
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him telling Susumu to hold his breath in space, genuinly thinking he was being smart and giving good advice even tho he was confusing that with being under water
when he passes out while Susumu is doing his attraction level, followed by him being woken up when Susumu jokingly mentioned space camels to get his attention. priorities my man
at the end of the game he throws himself in the air seeing Susumu alive... he loves his kids
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Mr Driller Drill Spirits
his whole underground restaurant hunting arc. he became a reported missing person while looking for this restaurant and i think thats funny
him giving an attitude to Ataru when he meets up with him "Ill drill wherever I choose to boy >:["
followed by him completely spacing out and not knowing what hes doing... lets get u to bed gramps...
when he meets up with an undergrounder and tries to recruit him as a driller
him boasting with space undergrounders about being aliens (i havent actually SEEN this exchange yet but it is in his voice files and its super cute)
when he????? questions the taste of money?????? is he senile??????????
this promo image for drill spirits, theyre celebrating Christmas together and Taizo drags up this massive destruction drill from underground and asks Ataru if Susumu will like it
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Dig Dug Digging Strike cutscenes
when he gets sassy with Susumu about him trying to offer him help. he gets mad that hes treated like an old man then proceeds to hurt himself slipping and crashing on the ice
the old ruins levels, he complains about how dark and musty it is and hes all like "do i have to go :(" followed by Susumu sharply telling him yes like damn 😭
annnd thats all i can think of at the top of my head X) i knew you said to list only the favorites but honestly anytime hes on screen its a little treat to me so yeah
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alienaiver · 3 years
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Half the Battle, pt. 1
Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader
find part two here!
warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)
wordcount: 5.5k
content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!
notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 
—————————
Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.
Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.
Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.
Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?
His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.
“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.
And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.
__
He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.
His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.
He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.
It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.
But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.
When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.
“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?
“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”
That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.
Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.
After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.
_____
You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.
Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.
As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.
When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.
“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.
“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,
“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.
“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.
“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.
Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.
You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.
After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.
Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”
You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.
Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.
You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.
You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.
_____
“What are they like?”
It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.
Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.
“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!
“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”
Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.
Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.
Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.
He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.
____
Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”
“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”
“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.
“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.
Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”
“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-
“That’s a really cute laugh.”
The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.
“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.
You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.
The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.
When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.
Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!
The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.
“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”
Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”
But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”
You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.
“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”
“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”
To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.
After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”
Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.
“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.
“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”
You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”
Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.
“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.
He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.
“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.
“I think I just found my soulmate.”
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redrobin-detective · 3 years
Text
Delayed Mourning
Going Angst Day 5: Death
_________________________________________
It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted. 
“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.
“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”
“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on. 
“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”
“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”
“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”
“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”
“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”
“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”
“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”
Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie. 
“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.
“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers. 
“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”
“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.
“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”
“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...
“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”
“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”
“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”
“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”
“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her. 
She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.
“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”
“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.
“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?
“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand. 
“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”
“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom. 
“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.
“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”
“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”
XxX
“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!” 
“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.
“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”
“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”
Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.
“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.
“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”
“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”
“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”
“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”
“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”
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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years
Text
I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)
Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.
Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon
You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥
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"Lieutenant, this place is-"
Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.
"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"
"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.
Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.
Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.
The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.
"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.
"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."
Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."
Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."
Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."
The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.
The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.
The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."
Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.
Before he could utter a word-
"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.
His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.
Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.
"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.
"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.
In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.
Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.
"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.
Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.
"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."
Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.
Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.
"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.
"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.
The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."
The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.
He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.
"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.
He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.
"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."
"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."
His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.
"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.
"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."
"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.
"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"
"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.
"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.
"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.
Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away.  In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."
"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."
"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.
You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.
"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.
Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.
"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."
He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."
You returned his smile and saw yourself out.
As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.
"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.
Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.
"Back to work," Hank groaned.
...
...
...
Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.
'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.
When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.
"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show
Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.
"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.
You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.
"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.
Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.
"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.
"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.
"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.
You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.
"I understand," he replied firmly.
He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.
"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.
You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.
"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.
Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.
Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.
Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.
With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.
It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.
Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”
It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.
"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.
"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.
Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.
You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.
"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.
"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.
He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."
"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."
"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"
Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.
"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."
You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.
"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.
"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."
"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.
"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.
"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."
You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.
"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.
"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"
His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.
Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?
You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.
Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.
He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.
"She's amazing," he replied quietly.
Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."
...
...
...
Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.
"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.
Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.
"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.
"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.
Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.
"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.
"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.
Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.
"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.
Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"
Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.
"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.
Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.
...
...
...
Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.
The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.
"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.
"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."
"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.
It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.
"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.
"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.
"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."
You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.
"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."
Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"
Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."
"Does he like being a detective?"
"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."
"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.
"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.
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authoressskr · 3 years
Text
Tracking Death and Magic, pt 2
Characters: f!Reader [known in this fic as Duchess], Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Phil Coulson, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, mentions of Dr. Strange, OFCs
Warnings: Language, death, angst, and no Beta   ::    Notes: this was written for @captain-kelli’s #ckcomebacktour – WELCOME BACK!!    ::   Word Count: 10,414
Mythological + Fairy Tale Creatures AU feat. Alpha Werewolf/Vampire!Bucky, Alpha Werewolf/Vampire!Steve, Giant!Hulk side Bruce, Born Witch!Wanda, Hellhound mix!Reader
Someone is hunting down those with Fae blood in New York. And no one can figure out why or who is behind the crimes. So higher ups in the city hand the case over to SHIELD, who deals with the more difficult supernatural cases. But even after two weeks, this small elite team can’t seem to figure out where the person or persons responsible will strike or the reasoning behind it. Anyone with a drop of Fae blood is scared…scared of being kidnapped or killed. Time to call in some outside help.
Prompt: [*In Part 1*] “All of those people are alive right now - all because of her.”
[ Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, translate, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION. 18+ ONLY PLEASE, all content providers don’t want serious repercussions from underage interactions, myself included. ]
-+- REBLOGGING is fine and *very* appreciated! -+-
Part One
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You could feel it as you walked up to the sidewalk where Cyrus had been killed. The now dried and cleaned sidewalk not hiding it’s dark shadows from you in the waning late afternoon light.
The creeping, underhanded power of the Seelie Court brushing against you.
The poison is a prominent smell to your hound side still since it’s only been a day and a half. Cyrus’s soul hasn’t lingered, so that at least is a blessing, but the conversation with your uncle and this fresh site is putting your nerves on the very edge. You can ‘see’ the faint magic outline where he died, you knew he’d be wearing his homemade medallion to ward off evil. Swallowing, you kneel where his feet would have been, reaching out with your magic.
The flashes that echo painfully through your mind make you gasp.
The cloaked figure is stealing magic. Taking it violently. To him, the more violent and quick, the better. It honestly just makes your stomach roll, the saliva building in your closed and clenched mouth.
But why? You can taste the lighter magic associated with the Seelie Court - the Court of Light - the kind that humans and others often think of when they think of the fair folk. The court thought, it doesn’t deal with humans or others unless absolutely needed…
When you told Hades you suspected a member of the higher courts on your little walk, you hadn’t anticipated to be able to feel it. The boots, the glistening silver swords, the escape when you had moved a forgotten tiny part of the sithen under the alley -- now it all makes a lot more sense now. The shiver that runs down your spine at the implications this creates. May the God and Goddess spare all those innocents involved, you pray quickly.
A henchman for the shining Seelie Court, sweet baby Jesus. What had you gotten yourself into?? What had SHIELD stumbled into??
The residual death is quick, but still it steals into you, taking away what little baited breath you had. Feeling the tears prickle your eyes as you try to figure out these new pieces of the puzzle.
Hades can’t help you - Gods can’t interfere with other pantheons businesses, good or bad.
Hades can’t save you from the other half of yourself.
It was something you had always known in the back of your mind, but the harsh slap of it hurt more than the death and falling pieces of this horrible plot. But...just maybe there could be a light in this cave of fae intrigue and murder. There are others whom you can save.
The three stolen wouldn’t be taken to the sithen, that would be too obvious of their involvement. Plus, they were fae and thus could leave as long as not put into a dungeon there and theoretically had enough power and know-how to do so. But had the cloaked figure been draining them, you weren’t sure if they could get out or away.
So, that would mean they were still somewhere close by.
The last traces of magic from the murder, Cyrus’s own traces, and your hellhound senses in overdrive to track everything - you’re drowning as the sun sinks just a tad lower in the sky, creating the beginnings of the lovely orange autumn color you adore. Fall was closer than you remembered. You can vaguely hear your name being said, like being underwater almost. Then you can smell sage, lemon and juniper - the sweet smells of the entrance to the Underworld.
The way the newcomer says your name grounds you, while Bucky calling your name brings you closer to the surface - your mate...Bucky brings you back to reality. And he’s protective and bristling slightly at the other man who is holding your arm’s firmly.
You’re looking up at the slightly blurry face of a traditionally handsome Greek man, all muscle and blurry smile, with thick black hair and sweet honey brown eyes.
“I hate your human disguise sometimes,” You grunt and turn to plop down on your ass as Bucky watches as the man lean in and proceed to lick from your chin up to your hairline. “Okay, okay...thank you Cerb,” You shove his chest gently to get him to release you, reaching for Bucky’s hand automatically. “This is my mate, Bucky. Don’t snap at him.” Cerberus gives you puppy dog eyes, his nerves calming down slightly to hold his form better. So at least now it was one face instead of the three blurry ones superimposed over each other.
“Did you just say Cerby?!” Wanda sounds astonished.
“As in Cerberus?” Natasha questions calmly. The guardian to the Underworld stands up and he’s visibly excited looking from you to Natasha and Wanda.
“Yes,” You coo. “This is my best friend in the whole world and Underworld, Cerberus. Cerberus, this is Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is his best friend. Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Phil Coulson. Wanda Maximoff and her twin, Pietro.”
“Pleasure,” His deep voice almost has an echo to it. “Lord said you needed looking after, pup. He was right. Too close.”
“I know,” You sigh out as your hand subconsciously clenches Bucky’s a little tighter even after he helps you up.
“No,” Cerberus growls. “Close.”
“Fucking great,” You growl out in reply, anger rising.
“See anything?” Phil asks, forehead furrowed just so. You sigh again, anger dissipating as quickly as it had boiled up.
“We are in a shit ton of trouble.”
“We are aware of that, kid,” Steve states, crossing his arms over his wide chest.
“Nooo. Like real shit ton of trouble. Seelie Court trouble.” Phil lets out a string of curses as Clint’s stance gets more rigid. “The cloaked asshole is working for the Seelie Court. I can taste the residual light magic. And he’s stealing magic. That’s why he’s been killing most of them. Kidnapping the more powerful ones to drain them continuously, I’m guessing.”
“He can’t take them back to the golden sithen,” Phil states, following where you’re leading. “So they’re still in the area.”
“I think he took them where there’s more greenery and nature, it would make it more comfortable for him. Someplace secretive to drain and hide them.”
“Central Park,” Bucky reasons. “It makes the most sense. It would be easy for him to hide them there, especially if he was -” He stops as you start exhibiting nervous energy beside him, enough to upset his wolf and your scent to change. “What is it?”
“Only royalty can move the sithen,” You whisper, eyes focused solely on Phil.
“I have to let Fury know…” Phil looks at you with pity and sadness appearing in his blue eyes. “Everything.”
“I figured as much when I tasted their magic,” face contorting with a pained expression is all Bucky sees on your lovely face as you whisper the words defeatedly. He’s on edge now with your changing emotions and scents, trying to keep his eyes from shifting too much or his fangs popping out to prepare for the impending fight, the need to protect and soothe you almost overwhelming him internally.
“I’m sorry,” He offers, moving forward to squeeze your shoulder sympathetically, withdrawing the phone from his pant pocket as your free hand shoots forward to grip his wrist tightly, a plea written plainly for all to see on your almost panicking face.
“Please Phil...delay it til the morning. I can’t...they’ll -” Bucky and Steve can taste the fear that’s rolling off you now, raising his hackles as Cerberus eyes him with interest before returning his gaze to Duchess.
“I won’t let your other side harm you,” Cerby snarls, his handsome olive face contorted with anger as you wince hard. Bucky tugs you into him as much as he can with your iron grip still on Phil, soothing the pacing and snarling wolf in his head as much as he is soothing you.
That’s why you said you should be better at wording things, Bucky thinks to himself, nuzzling his nose into your hair, fangs no longer a worry as your scent shifts yet again to worry. Only now he realizes you are concerned about how he sees you.
“Do you care I’m a werewolf and vampire crossbreed 100 year old plus former assassin?” Bucky mumbles softly against your head, making you pull away to look up at him, shock and confusion making you wrinkle your forehead at your mate. Your scent shifts to calm Bucky now, eyes tearing up just a tad as his wolf shakes and settles down. Mate needs reassurance.
“No!” You release Phil’s wrist to cup Bucky’s cheek, thumb moving over the course hairs of his beard. “I don’t care what you are. You’re mine, James.” The light in Bucky’s eyes stun you with his smile, his eyes crinkling beautifully. Just radiating his happiness in that simple little motion of his elated smile, your inner hound almost dopey at the tenderness your mate is exuding.
“Then why would I care if you're half fae?” He presses his forehead down against yours, making you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from falling. “You’re my mate, Duchess. I don’t care what you are, as long as I get to keep you. Understand, doll?”
“I just don’t want to be known as one of them...as one of the Shining Court. That’s not me.” You keep your eyes squeezed close, taking comfort in your mate’s touch and his surrounding scent, blocking out everything but Bucky.
“You moving that fast with that sword was hot though,” Bucky rumbles out, making laughter just peel out of you, opening your eyes to be met with those intensive cerulean orbs.
“You’re too good,” You copy his statement from the closet earlier, smiling up at the most important person in your life.
But that comment does make you think, yanking your forehead away from Bucky to snap back to Coulson.
“Phil! It’s for my father!”
“You sure?”
“It has to be! Only royalty can move the sithen! The High Prince has probably a quarter of the fae power I do and his son probably barely enough to magically open a doorway in the sithen.”
“Wait,” Clint starts, twirling a toothpick between his front teeth before pointing it at you and continuing. “So you’re a fae princess?!”
You wince again, Bucky’s metal fingers slipping under the edge of your shirt bottom to stroke your skin to ease the emotions swirling in and around you - at least they are much more in control and subdued than minutes ago. “Technically, yes.” You admit in a defeated whisper. “My grandmother is the Queen of the Seelie Court.”
“Which is why Peter said you were ordering the cloaked man to answer you,” Steve states, rolling his shoulders to relieve some tension. Too late you realize that since Steve and Bucky are actually pack that he was getting some diluted effects of your emotional rollercoaster just now just by being so close to the two of you. ‘Sorry,’ You mouth to him as he gives you a soft smile in return.
“So that’s why the ground shook?” Bucky asked, forehead slightly furrowed at Phil then down to you. “How can you move the whole sithen?”
“Oh, I can’t. I couldn’t do that unless I was Queen and would need a whole lot of blood magic to back it up to move it. And honestly, the sithen is a living thing, so it would need to be...um...convinced. But moving pieces of it - especially forgotten or ‘dead’ spaces that the court don’t access - is fairly easy if you know what you are doing. Hades is Lord of the Underworld. Is the “Underworld” just under Greece? No. It’s everywhere AND a specific place. The same properties apply to the sithen,” You shrug as if it hasn’t really occurred to you the schematics of it all.
“Ahh, sort of like the Sanctum Sanctorum of Dr. Strange’s,” Pietro supplies, tapping a finger against his chin with a small grin.
“Yes and no.”
“I was thinking more like the jet,” Wanda supplies to her twin who frowns at her.
“So if Dr. Strange had a Sanctum Sanctorum jet?”
“Jesus. Christ.” Coulson and Natasha mutter loudly in sync, sighing and turning away slightly from the twins and Clint who is nodding along with their continued discussion.
“So could you find the piece of the sithen in Central Park?” Steve moves the conversation back to the kidnapped victims, you watching him unclench and clench his right hand slightly. You move a little more into Bucky and reach for Steve’s right hand. His head snaps over to you almost comically fast, while you just try to exude a calming energy. Bucky whispers a soft ‘thank you’ against your temple before gently reaching over to squeeze Steve’s shoulder. You can almost feel Steve’s blood pressure drop once both you and Bucky are calm and now working on calming him.
“Yeah, I could. I’ve scented the magic signature he’s used both attacking me and at the crime scenes, so shouldn’t be too hard to locate it. I mean, I won’t be exactly spot on, but will be close enough to be able to move the sithen bit to me and manipulate it open hopefully.”
���So that’s the play,” Natasha states as Phil whips out his cell, causing another spike in anxiety to roll through you, but Bucky and Steve both quickly whisk it away with their touch.
“Yes, sir,” Phil states evenly. “We may have located the kidnapped parties. I request a team to subtly clear and surround Central Park. Yes, sir.” His right eyelid gives one lone twitch. “Yes, all Avengers to the Park. We are dealing with Seelie Court involved matters. Yes, she is here and will be leading us to the kidnapped hostages. Affirmative. Will do, sir.” He hangs up to find everyone staring at him. “Tony will be bringing everyone’s gear and then we’ll head to Central Park. If you have any requests or needs, please bother Stark. I have a whole ops to coordinate.” A black suv pulls up behind him, which no one even flinches at. “I’ll meet you all in an hour. Stark will know the location.”
“Onward to probable death!” Pietro mutters with fake enthusiasm and you frown at him, Cerberus moving closer to you until his arm is brushing. The scent of sage, juniper and lemon - overlapped with the scent of coffee, cinnamon, cedar and a soft ocean breeze, things distinctly Bucky to you, even the scent of orange faintly coming from Steve - do nothing to help the pit in your belly.
How true, you muse morbidly, glancing up into sad honey brown eyes. You can both catch the faint, trace smell of death.
And you both know it’s from you.
-----*****-----*****-----
Tony had brought you several SHIELD jumpsuits in various colors: gray, blue and black, smirking as you had raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously, little hellhound. They’ll all form to fit you. Bucky and Peter mentioned swords, so I brought some thigh holsters as well as a back holster, since I didn’t know the length of your swords. Natasha has extra guns aboard the jet if you are into that. Also, we don’t have time for you two to be frisky, so -”
“Shut up, Tony,” Bucky had growled from behind him, just making Tony smile wider. Seeing Bucky in his hero suit was a whole different sexy than last night and this morning. Well, you now understood why Tony was having concerns about you two because - dear gods did you want Bucky to bend you over something and take you with that suit on. You’d be equally happy to just drop to your knees and thank your mate for this look. Bucky obviously can see and sense the changes as you are basically drooling and clenching your thighs, while having an iron grip on the dark blue suit you had been favoring.
“Remember!” Tony says loudly while shaking a finger at you before Steve comes up beside Bucky and herds the grinning man from the room where you’re surrounded by suits and weapons.
“Eyes are glowing again, doll,” Bucky purrs as he comes to a halt before you.
“Can’t help it, it’s an emotional reaction most of the time,” You breath out, a smile playing on the corner of his lips at your answer. “Used to just do it when I was extremely pissed off. Now apparently it decides to pop up whenever I’m -”
“Horny?”
“Focusing. On. My. Mate.” You insist as he rumbles out a laugh, bending forward to kiss your forehead sweetly. You tilt your head up to catch his eye again, giving him a small smile as you reach out to take his flesh hand. “But just FYI, I can smell you’re horny too. And them pants is tiiight.” He captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you so tight against his chest that the buckles dig into you a little, just making you all the more riled up.
“Mate,” Bucky’s voice is part plea and warning in it’s roughness after you two pull apart, you nosing along his throat, kissing the skin where your mark should adorn.
“You could leave to let me get dressed…?”
“Where the hell is the fun in that, doll? Huh?” Both of you are chuckling, touching each other as much as possible but struggling to keep it PG.
“Bucky, I know you don’t want to bring this up…”
 “Don’t.” 
“But this could be it, ya know? So I need you to sort of brace yourself if it does.” His back is now ramrod straight and his jaw clenched tight, but holding your gaze.
“I won’t let it happen.” The determination from your first meeting is back, but you can only muster the softest look in reply, letting the suit fall to the ground as you cup his face with both hands.
“Sweetheart,” You coo gently, watching the sadness dance in his eyes that he’s trying hard to hide. “I adore you. I trust you inexplicably. I would happily spend the rest of my life with you. To mate you, to marry you...to have a little baby that looks just like you, that’s all I want. You deserve some peace and so. much. love.” His hands are gripping tight onto your waist, you can feel the fingertips digging in as you continue. “But you know I’m marked for death, Bucky. They’ve tried most of my life to circumvent it, stop it, undo it. But death comes for me regardless. I need you to not pull away from everyone if that happens. You’ll need them. Please.”
“I don’t - I don’t want to deal with that. I can’t. I can’t lose you too. I said I would protect you and keep you safe. I’m no Alpha if I don’t try. I’m no mate if I don’t try.” You’re at a standstill, both now in emotional turmoil over this topic, trying not to let it bleed into the other. He presses his forehead against yours hard, staring into each other’s eyes. “I love you,” He whispers and it’s all you ever wanted to hear. Right now, you had all wanted right here - a wonderful mate who loved you and would try to move heaven and earth for you, who didn’t care what you were. One of the most beautiful men in the whole world who looked at you like the sun rose and set by your whim. The whole thing was unfathomable.
“I love you, Bucky,” You breathe out in reply, longing for any other outcome but the one you know is coming. “And I will love you as long as you live.” Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat, a couple tears sliding down his cheeks as yours begin to fall freely, letting him wrap his arms so securely around you as his beautiful blue jacket absorbs your quiet sobs.
-----*****-----*****-----
The sun is nearly set, the sky streaked a hundred hues of dark pink and red as New York slowly descends into darkness.
Bucky is standing right beside you, outfit bringing out his eyes as he surveys the scene stoically. You’d chosen the dark blue jumpsuit to match his, arms brushing subtly as you stand just outside the magic lines - and sight lines from the sithen - of Central Park.
Although you can’t see them, you can vaguely sense the score of SHIELD agents and Avengers scattered on the edges of the treelines. But you can ‘see’ the edge of the piece of sithen just shy of the Azalea Pond at the center of the Ramble. Bucky had been the one with his tablet naming things off to you - you had only moved to New York two years ago after all - trying to help you narrow down areas where it could have been. You wish you had had the time for him to show you around New York, around Brooklyn, and places that still stood from when he was younger.
Cerberus is on the other side of the pond, should the cloaked figure try to escape, swathed in the grip of Underworld magic to keep him invisible and thus much more easy to herd or pounce.
Wanda is piggybacking off your abilities, twined with yours temporarily so she could sense the heartbeats of the victims now that you had a location. Sam is in the trees to the left of the pond with Peter, Steve and Tony on the right while Clint, Natasha and Pietro cut off any other possible exit points. Bruce is staying by the ambulances, ready to Hulk out should the need arise, although you could tell from his face he was radiating the bright hope it absolutely would not.
Any way the cloaked figure ran, he’d be funneled where the Avengers chose. There would be no escape. As a failsafe, Pietro would be the only one to engage with him except you, since he would be the most able to take him on with the fae speed.
You drag yourself back to reality, turning to gaze over at Bucky and steeling yourself with one last deep breath before starting down the short path to the Azalea Pond.
“Be safe for me, doll,” Bucky says softly, almost as soft as the small breeze suddenly around you two. You manage to nod, throat closing up again. The fair folk do not lie. It had been beaten into you, quite literally, when you were little at court. You want nothing more than to lie to Bucky in that moment. To reassure him you will be safe for him. But the fair folk do not lie.
Good thing you are not solely fair folk. You reach for his hand, grasping just his flesh fingertips in your grip and squeezing them hard. It’s a millisecond in time, but it seems like one of those Lord of the Rings moments that are in that slow, dramatic, longing-filled motion. “I’ll do my best, handsome.” Dropping his hand before you lose your resolve, you take the barely visible path towards the pond. Your magic is swirling with Wanda’s, your senses all in overdrive - so much so you can’t even register the smell of the flowers blooming along the landmark.
Pursing your lips, you whistle a simple five note tune that fae had used for time beyond memory.
From behind you comes that deep, craggly voice, “Greetings, highness.”
“Greetings, servant,” He gives a little hiss at the title you bestow. “SHIELD has sent me to inform you that if you cooperate, you will not be sentenced to death.”
“They are mostly human. I do not fear the humans.”
“You are not wise to not fear them,” You give a pregnant pause, making sure you give that haughty look the court loves to disperse. “If you do not accept this offer, I am to inform you that I, Princess Duchess Propolos Hekatos, will be judge, jury and - if need be - executioner.” He pushes back his cloak hood back, allowing you to finally see his scaled face. He was probably one of very few left over of those lizard scaled dwarves who stayed closer to the caverns around lakes and seas when humans first emerged as semi-civilized, with beautiful almost translucent rainbow sheened scales around his eyes and cheeks, his mouth set in a thin line with no lips.
“I was damned from the get go, princess.”
“We are only as we choose to be - it doesn’t have to be that way,” You insist, leaning a little forward, softening your eyes. Even if you disliked court life, the snobs of court who’s magic had begun to dwindle long before you were born, and how you were treated there - he was the same as you; a discarded fae. He doesn’t reply, though there is a flicker of something in his eyes, simply just unsheathes his double swords and gestures to you with his chin.
“Prepare, half breed,” Although his insult has less venom than the alley last night, you huff out a sigh at his tone. Like he’s just going through the motions. Asshat.
You shift your feet just so, straightening your spine as you wait for his move. Physically you are in that moment, but your power shifts the sithen opening to the side where Steve and Tony are waiting, causing the cloaked man to hiss, baring slightly sharpened front teeth at you. “Little bitch!” And his steel meets yours. “We will both die for this!” He snarls as he tries to drive you back towards the trees and brush opposite the pond, you holding the line as you wait for Wanda to signal you that the people had been recovered.
“I’ll deal with them when the time comes,” You growl low, blocking his blades yet again with a heavy clink, shifting just so that you can reach for Bucky’s favorite knife at the small of your back, tinged with the poison that your cloaked friend had been favoring and stabbing it into his side and piercing his lung with a squelch.
“The poison will do nothing to me,” He spits at you as you twirl your wrist to disarm him of one of the swords and slide Bucky’s knife back into its sheath.
“It will now. Dr Banner mixed it with another, a heavy iron involved one - infused with belladonna - to make you human slow,” You lean in as you block another wide swing from him with the one sword left, smiling wide. “And heal human slow.” The whole of Central Park shakes as you show your hand.
“No! NO!” He screams and hisses, attempting to swing his meaty fists at you now that he was without a weapon.
“I am still my grandmother’s first born grandchild. I am still the High Prince’s first born. I am a Princess of the Seelie High Court.” You lean in as your tone becomes more malicious with each word, watching true fear alight in his mossy green eyes. “And with all the inbreeding and decline for the last century,” You straighten up, your blue flames engulfing you as he attempts to scurry away from you, shielding his eyes against the light you emanate as he falls on his ass in the dense brush and dirt. “Let’s face it - I am probably the most powerful fae aside from the Queen of the Seelie and the King of the Unseelie.” Leaning down, fisting your hand in his cloak, you yank him back upright, snarling as your power dances behind your eyes, careful still to at least to not burn him with your flames. But watching him flinch at the heat, the basic fear all animals have towards a large flame, sets you more alight at the taste of that fear. “And absolutely the wrong person to piss off!”
“Spare me! Please!!” He screams, more high pitched than you had imagined, nearly making you wince as you see the red sparks above the tree line and see a blue clad shadow moving along the treeline coming closer to you. Pietro blurs past you, slapping old iron cuffs on the cloaked man, which sends him quite literally howling and screeching from the burn of the metal. 
Your flames give off a few large flickers before they begin to die down when Pietro says that they’ve gotten the kidnapped people to the ambulance they had on stand by, Bucky coming down the path towards you with a small smile on his lips as your eyes meet. Your magic shrinks back towards you, the weight of all the magic and your now overworked abilities settling back into you, your shoulders sagging a little with relief. It wasn’t over, but once your grandmother learned about your father and half-brother then she would be the one to end it.
The look in his cobalt eyes shift quickly, widening and moving to glare directly over your shoulder, his mouth moving in slow motion as he begins to barrel towards you, you begin to turn - only to feel the jerk of your body going forward instead. A glance downward shows a shiny red tip of one of the cloaked man’s swords protruding from just under your breasts, when you hear the mournful howl echo in and around your ears - only to realize it’s three distinct howls. The tang of blood spills into your mouth in a surprised gasp, turning slightly to see who has murdered you.
Your half brother’s hand is shaking slightly as he backs away from you, surprise written on both your faces as the scent of death finally fully fills your nose.
“I never thought -” You wheeze out, taking a few shaky steps towards your half-sibling as Bucky slides to a stop before you, his boots kicking up the fallen green leaves on the grass, both hands grasping your hips firmly as his eyes wander all over your body and face, tears already tracking down his cheeks. “You would have the balls!” You finish with another wheeze, the metallic taste much stronger now.
Bucky turns you to face him as Tony and Peter keep your half-brother from escaping, the darkening greenery of the world around you narrowing down to just Bucky. It’s a beautiful world to be relegated to actually.
“No. NO. Come on, doll. You - you gotta stay with me.” His voice is raw sounding, like he’s trying to not be loud, his metal hand putting pressure on the front wound as if it would help. His forehead is shoved against yours, your entire gaze narrowed to his blue eyes and his damp cheeks as he pulls you into his lap, collapsing the both of you to the ground. It’s funny almost to you in the moment...like you can still hear his loud, pitiful howl like a haunting melody behind everything he’s saying. “Doll, you gotta...come on, gotta fight. I need you to fight. Cerberus, he - he went to get Hades and Hecate. They’ll fix it. Just hold on til they get here, okay?”
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“I love you soo much, James Buchanan Barnes,” You’re heartbroken to watch him see your bloody bottom lip tremble, and the color seeping from your face. You can see him weighing all his options through his tears, trying to move your tired hand up to touch him, to comfort him.
“I love you too, babydoll, but please God, please … just stay with me.” The choked up sound of his voice makes you want to cry for causing him this pain. No amount of forewarning could have prepared you for this feeling - the feeling of slowly breaking and killing your mate.
“Mate,” is the last thing you manage to get out before you just go limp in his arms, those jewel eyes he loves so much already just staring up at the first stars twinkling in the sky unseeing. In the back of his mind, his vampire side offers up the idea which he swore to God he would never do. But all too late.
The howl that rips from his throat is pure misery and heartache, his body bowed over his mate’s, his grip still holding her in a vice. The blood cloys her scent, furthering his heartbreak.
He looks up, needing Steve on a near visceral level, only to not see anyone at all. Confusion slightly mars his grief, looking over his shoulder and all around the darkened area, but met with no familiar faces or words in his comms. Confusion gives way to his war training, the alertness on it’s highest notch as he scans around, sniffing delicately at the air as the world seems much darker now than it had just been. When he turns back towards the pond, on edge at the very tampered down scents surrounding him, he spots three almost identical women standing there with those dark pink azaleas framing behind them almost like a fresco - just appearing as if from nowhere like Hades had earlier on the street.
“James Barnes,” The one on the left begins, long dark brown hair falling freely to her waist. “We are sorry for your loss,” the one on the right continues, her hair half up in intricate braids. “But now that we have fulfilled our ill-spoken creed,” the middle speaks, all that dark mahogany hair piled atop her hair like a crown, before they all join hands as the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand to attention at the sudden surge of power that surrounds him, his arms tensing as a wave of azalea scent blows around the two of them, bringing Duchess as close to him as possible again. “We will return our little cousin back to you.”
His mouth goes dry, forehead wrinkled in not understanding as he looks down at his mate, her eyes still open and her skin still dampened with that death pallor. Bucky gently uses his metal digits to close her eyelids, grief and nausea rolling through him simultaneously while the ground beside Bucky gives a small shake and splits open, Hades climbing so elegantly and easily from the ground below with Cerberus - in three-headed giant black dog form - with a wispy blue thing dangling from the middle head’s mouth. There isn’t even enough room left in him to be shocked, there is just acceptance of whatever this shit show was.
“Turns out, sometimes you just have to accept Fate and go through it in order to stop it,” Hades murmurs in his deep molasses voice, bending down just so, his long fingers gripping the back of Bucky’s neck loosely. “Will you accept your fate now, Bucky?”
“I’ll do anything for her,” Bucky rasps out with conviction shining in his tear-riddled eyes.
“Splendid,” Hades motions with his free hand for Cerberus to come forward. “You must take a mouthful of this first.” He orders sternly as a beautiful blonde woman, shorter than Duchess and with a more heavy hourglass shape, emerges from the crevice to the Underworld with a black and golden chalice. Bucky marvels at the tiny wild roses popping up in her wake as she walks around Cerberus to stand between himself and Hades. She sniffles as she looks at Duchess, one hand leaving the chalice as she frowns over at the Fates before brushing two fingers down his left cheek to his chin, the warmth from just her fingers seeping quickly into his icy feeling skin. He doesn’t even notice the Fates disappearing just after that, he’s so focused on the goddess before him.
“Remove the sword, Hades.” It’s gone with a wave at the woman’s order, Bucky unconsciously tightening his hold once again on his mate. “Now, Bucky, sweet little honeysuckle boy, take a mouthful of this - but don’t swallow.” She brings the cup to his lips and tips it up. “Now, when Cerberus drops her soul back into her body, kiss her and push all the ambrosia into her mouth. It’ll take a few seconds for her soul to readjust and the ambrosia to heal her before she comes back to consciousness, okay honeysuckle?” Bucky manages a jerky nod, rewarded with a pat to his cheek before she backs up towards Hades, Cerberus giving a huff as he leans down towards Duchess’s body.
“Three. Two. One.” Hades counts down, Cerberus’s light brown eyes locked onto Bucky’s before the middle head gently opens it’s very large jaw and the blue wisp floats down to her body. “Now.” Bucky smashes his lips against hers, feeding the liquid into her mouth with an edge of desperation barely restrained within him.
“Now we wa-” A gasp startles you all, her jewel-toned eyes blinking rapidly as her hands claw at Bucky’s waist where they’re trapped between them, until they’re focused on Bucky. Bucky lets loose a sob as she smiles up at him, blood now gone from her face.
“Hi handsome,” A tiny little cough to clear her throat. “Bucky,” Duchess manages to rasp out before she’s crushed to Bucky’s chest.
“I lost you,” Bucky half gasps/half sobs into her hair, the scent of blood seemingly long gone, a terrible dream from which he can now finally awaken...it was just her again. Just his mate.
“But you found me, handsome.”
Bucky manages to get out a soft chuckle as he pulls back to cup her face in his hands. “You do anything like that again, doll, and I swear I’ll -” She cuts him off with a kiss but he doesn’t miss the smile and silent eyeroll. When they break apart, she brings her hand up to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone repeatedly as Bucky just reveals in the warmth of her fingers and palms against his skin.
“You are mine,” She whispers so damn gently, like a breath of life gently fanning over his lips as her forehead bumps against his softly. Bucky understood this was her sign that everything was alright, that closeness of foreheads pressed together and reading every emotion in each other's eyes. 
“And you are mine,” Bucky affirms, electricity buzzing down his spine before he smiles wide at his mate, happy to see her own smile widen as he does so. “You’re stuck with me for forever now.” She tries to feign a disappointed look and tone, to school her eyes and keep her lips from twitching up in a grin is poorly executed.
“Oh, no. What a terrible thing, Sarge,” It comes out more as a purr, lighting a warmth and fire from within Bucky, elation now bleeding as a scent out of him at this tiny but monumental moment with his mate. A deep voice clearing his throat behind you brings you both a bit back more to the present, Bucky glancing to the left as your smile stays gracing your gorgeous face.
“Welcome back!” The goddess burst out, tears opening flowing down her lovely and soft olive oval face, falling to her knees behind Duchess and throwing her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her fiercely. She even pulls Bucky closer, smoothing a hand up and down his back as she hugs both of them just this side of painful.
“Thank you, theía.” Duchess grunts out from the tight sandwich she’s in, looking over to her uncle. “Theíos, what happened to that little motherfucker?”
Hades stern looking face breaks out in a tiny smile, looking so kindly down at the scene before him as Cerberus’s three heads lap and nuzzle at the three on ground. “He’s still being held on the other plane. And speaking of which, we should return quickly. Hecate might actually kill him and start a bigger conflict than which we already have on our hands.”
“Well that answers some of my questions,” Bucky mutters just behind her right ear, nipping at the earlobe gently as Persephone releases you all, gently wiping away her tears.
“I’ll fill you in as best I can later. After someone fills me in, that is,” Duchess promises with a quick but warm kiss to his lips. Hades helps his wife up, kissing both of her palms and exchanging a long, loving look before extending his hand for Duchess, Bucky shooting up beside her as they each have a hand hold on her and help to steady her as she sways just a touch.
“Much later,” Bucky agrees with the barest hint of a nod, just needing to soothe his mate still. Frankly, just needing to reconnect and optimally be alone with his mate. Hopefully uninterrupted for at least two weeks, a month - two months would be absolutely dreamy and very, very far fetched with all the shit they’ll have to deal with afterwards regarding this case. But Bucky would move whole cities to make good on what she’d said to him aboard the jet too. Finally get him some of that apple pie life that he, Steve and the Commandos had talked about all those years and years ago.
He watches as you roll your neck, gently pushing away one of Cerby’s heads to shake both your arms out before reaching up to finally scratch at each of Cerberus’s heads one by one, kissing at their muzzles with gusto as the giant hellhound wiggles it’s butt with abandon. “I didn’t get that warm of a welcome,” Bucky remarks with a smirk, his mouth breaking into a wider smile at the look she shoots him.
“Because that is something personal you’ll get later on, Sarge,” 
“Geallaidhean, an dannsair beag agam,” Bucky growls softly, making sure to seal it with a deep, hard kiss. Promises, my little dancer. She looks a little flustered when they break apart, eyes not as focused as before. He knows she can smell the very pleased scent rolling off of him at her reaction.
“Such an Alpha,” She mutters with a teasing eye roll, keeping her hand on his chest. “You wear that jacket and you can have whatever you like,” comes the whisper against his lips, a soft growl punctuating the end before he takes another kiss. “Okay. Okay. Now, let’s go shank the little fairy prince,” Baring your teeth is more cute to Bucky than terrifying initially, but knowing what you’re capable of does make it scarier. And sexier, he wasn’t going to lie to himself. He loves that his mate is that intimidating.
And quite honestly, what will be more scary to the little prince than someone he feared and loathed coming back after watching them die? What's more, coming back for their retribution on him from the other side. Bucky can bet anyone that it’s not a hell of a lot actually.
“Brace yourself for it,” She whispers, hand wrapping tight around his metal one. Bucky feels a tug at his navel as the whole world around him seems to lighten at least ten shades, the overwhelming scent of blood returning, along with the pond waters, and Steve suddenly all fill his nose at once, Steve’s hands suddenly wrapping just this side of painful on his upper arms.
The scent of confusion and awe fill the area around them like a sudden breeze, the fair folk Prince calling for the God and Goddess to protect him in a whisper which might as well be a shout in the eerily quiet park. It seemed like even the regular wildlife noises in the Park had shown restraint, watching the otherworldly conflict in reverence.
“Did you miss me, brother?” No one on the other side of Manhattan could mistake the venom in her voice for anything other than deadly.
“You don’t understand!” The man - if you could call him that, no one in Central Park would though - shouts defiantly with a slice of whining at the end, his pupils blown as his eyes dart around the small clearing with barely restrained panic, nearly everywhere but on Duchess.
“Spare me your bullshit, Bradye,” Duchess growls, the lights beginning to dance behind her eyes as she moves closer to him, leaving her mate behind her. She smiles a bit triumphantly, maliciously. “You have come into this realm and by doing so are now subject to its rules and punishments. That useless title you hold will do you no good.” A few tsks come from her, “For you will face a death punishment either way. Hecate has requested the Queen come here and you and our father will pay for, let’s see, eight deaths and three kidnappings.”
“The fair folk do not lie,” He reminds in a taunt, thinking he’s won something. Her dangerous smile makes his millisecond of gloating worthless.
“Oh, of that I am well aware. I was schooled in that rule with leather. And steel. And sharp blows...and I think it may have slipped your mind, but I DID die. Charon saw me waiting upon the shore of the River Styxx. And he cannot lie about the souls he sees and ferries. Is the shaking of your hand as you drove your servant’s blade into my chest so quickly forgotten? Don’t worry,” Flames begin to gather around her ankles, slowly creeping upward like a nonsensical dance. “I have worked with SHIELD to document all you and our father have done. Did you know that there are some cameras opposite where your servant was seen entering and exiting? And that it has files that date back to before the first murder? Where you can make out two male figures walking into the park and it has a slight shake to it? Almost like an earthquake...or perhaps even a sithen moving…” The color drains from his already pasty face as Duchess strides closer, the blue and white flames now licking up her hips and lower back. There is a slight odor of urine, making Steve and Bucky both wrinkle their noses as Tony takes a small step away from him.
It’s a power move, not just the ever shifting flames but Bucky can clearly spot how sharp her teeth have grown, how her midnight blue fingernails are now black pointed tips. She’s allowing her fae side out as well, those multicolored lights bobbing and dancing behind her irises as each step she takes results in tiny little faerie rings, the tiny flowers blooming in the colors of the pinks, greens, and light blues that dance behind her eyes as small little beings descend from the trees and pixie-looking fae flit from the flowers around the Azalea Pond.
“You have no proof,” The haughtiness returns, looking down at Duchess, and had his voice not shook, might have pulled it off. He also eyes the fae joining the group in the clearing around the pond, his eyes catching sight of the faerie rings behind her and the shock that shows in his eyes is nearly equal to watching her appear back on this plane - alive.
“You hear that, Grandmother? Everything I asked Hecate’s handmaidens to give you is not proof.”
Bucky will remember that look forever. The snapping up of his head so fast it looked like it hurt, the look of complete and utter stunned surprise that seems to echo through and around him and actually make a tremor run through the little slimeball as Fury, Coulson and a lovely looking older woman with hair that went from silver at the top of her head and slowly gained a darker red as it came to rest at her waist came behind him into the clearing.
“I have heard all in this park. I have watched your hand slay your sister.” There is a flash of fury in her eyes, which Bucky notices are mismatched. One green as freshly mowed grass and the other a dark pine bark brown. “And had she not been preoccupied with keeping everyone in this park safe, sealing the sithen closed, and focused on her mate, you wouldn’t have stood a chance, you preposterous, moronic, useless child!” Her voice raises but her face never changes from an indifferent look that Bucky had seen Queen Elizabeth sport more than a few times on tv. “You and your father will be punished to the fullest extent of this plane’s laws. Before that you both will be brought before both courts of Fae and stripped of all your titles, rights, magic -” She looks down her nose at him with a sniff of disdain, “This applies more to your father as he actually has abilities. And you will also be made to pay for restitution to the families of those you had killed and of course those three whom you stole magic from and tortured. By our laws and the old ways, your sister has death rights on all three of you involved. And I must say, if I was her, I would drag your punishments out slowly...meticulously...painfully.”
Duchess strides back over to Bucky, hands already reaching out for him as the fire dies down around her - not as consuming, but still a bright warmth that shadows her entirety. Wrapped safely in his arms, Bucky rests his chin on the top of her head as Steve gently brushes his hand up and down her arm a few times, just reassuring her of their pack bond before taking a small step back to let them bond more. She pulls back a little from the comfort of his arms, tilting her head back to look up at him, Bucky knowing exactly what she wants. This was all very familiar to what happened just before she died...and honestly they all need that reassurance that everything is okay still. And this is the simplest and best way he can do it now; Her lips are soft and easily molded to his own. His sensitive ears can still pick up the little chirps and flitter sounds of small wings of the tiny fae that had climbed into this plane at Duchess’s silent command, gathered closer to her than her Grandmother, waiting for something else it seems.
A sharp featured man dressed in a black suit jacket with heavy, shining gold threaded designs along the wrists, collar, and lapels comes into the clearing with two men trailing behind him dragging a third between them.
The tiny beings begin a high pitched whine as the dragged man is thrown at the Faerie Queen’s feet. The man in black eyeing the tiny creatures with an unreadable something in his eyes.
Bucky is shocked at how much Duchess shares her face shape and nose with her father. Everything else must have come from her mother, making her features softer. Her eye color - she had told him last night - had come from her mother’s father, her mother’s side also responsible for her more soft Greek eye shape and supple body as well. Her father’s face however is harsher, more weathered looking than even his mother’s face. His eyes are a muddy brown and he looks to be maybe an inch or so taller than Duchess herself, unusual for a male - and even most women - of high Fae blood to be that short and not claim Brownie or Goblin blood, both of which a high Fae would absolutely loathe to admit to tainting their line. Him and his son seem to have been the tailings of a long and powerful bloodline, while Duchess was an anomaly of both sides of her family tree which was probably why she was so powerful. She was seemingly that red-headed gene in a sea of black hair which came about once every few generations.
Steve moves closer to the two of them again as the Queen looks down at her son with even more disgust than her grandson, which Bucky would not have thought possible a second ago. The sharp featured man comes to stand before Duchess and gives a deep nod, the two men behind him taking a knee as they come to a stop, the High Prince of the Seelie Court and his son watching from behind the Queen with shock and anger mixed on both their faces.
“Your highness, we at the Unseelie Court are thankful to you as it was a forgotten part of our court that was taken.” His bright green eyes look almost hesitant for his next words. “We are indebted to you for clearing this up. And also for clearing our court of involvement. The Unseelie Court is indebted to you, Princess Duchess Propolos Hekatos.”
Duchess pulls away a little from Bucky and Steve to sink into a deep curtsy, “Thank you, King Odhran. May your debt be cleared swiftly.” The two men behind him rise and they all go over to the Seelie Queen as Duchess’s flames die down further, pulsing softly in time with soft flutters and swayings of the tiny fae that have moved closer still.
“I will be seeing you later for their merited punishments, cousin,” The man says indifferently while also containing a hint of malice.
“Good evening until then, Odhran.” He and his men disappear as the Queen waves her hand to the men and women holding the prisoners formerly known as her family. “Fury. Coulson. We will be off now. They will be put into your custody in a week’s time. My granddaughter will, of course, be there for the handoff as a representative of the good will of my court.” Bucky doesn’t like that she’s ordering Duchess, fighting to suppress a growl. Does she not know he has plans for his mate?? She turns to address said granddaughter. “You will attend this handoff as a Princess of the Seelie Court. Come see me the morning before the handoff, as we have things we need to discuss. Please thank your goddess, Hecate, again for her swift actions and Hades for his too.” Duchess sinks into that deep curtsy once again before nodding at the trees and pond, the tiny creatures melting back into the waters and darkening branches like shadows, her Grandmother watching with something close to fondness on her face as the guards and prisoners disappear first, then her elegant frame takes a few steps and is gone as fast and quietly as the others.
Fury holds his hand straight up in the air after they vanish, no one making a move, just light breathing as everyone glances around the clearing, looking at Duchess and then Coulson who both give a firm nod before he lowers his hand and clears his throat. Fury’s good eye looks tired as fuck to Bucky.
“Alright people, shit shows over. Wanda, please begin magically cleansing this spot with Pietro, I want to be out of here in under an hour. Coulson, get me updates and signed paperwork from the three rescued for prosecution. Tony and Vision, keep the area contained until after the cleansing. SHIELD agents, please collect photos and evidence before the cleansing. Originals we keep, copies to the NYPD. Falcon and Spidey, back on patrols for the next few hours. Barnes and Rogers, take the lady home. I think she’s done and had enough for tonight. Everyone else, find something to do to make this go as fast as goddamn possible.”
“Roger, roger!” Bucky and Steve call out, Bucky tossing his flesh arm over her shoulder, Steve on his left side as they all wave silently to their friends and begin their way out of Central Park.
“This is one of the most terrible evenings of my life,” Steve mutters as Hades, Cerberus - in his human form - and a third figure, who Bucky can scent and see is definitely not the extra curvy Persephone, wave from further up the treeline ahead of them. “And I was just on the edge of the whole thing - witness and secondary pack feelings between you two. I might need a cigarette.” Steve mutters as he runs one hand through his hair and then down his face after taking a deep breath and letting it out.
“You haven’t smoked since 1938,” Bucky remarks with an eyeroll. “And that was before we knew it was bad for you, punk.”
“And this was one of the most terrible evenings of your life so far!” Steve turns his light blue eyes towards her with his Captain America signature disapproving glare at her overly perky tone. “The Seelie Queen says thank you. In that special fair folk way,” Duchess lays on the happy sarcastic tone as they approach the trio.
“As if I give a single fuck,” The woman’s dark voice growls out, her full lips set in a frown at the news. “How do you feel, mikrí mou skoteiní?”
“I told you, your little dark one is fine,” Hades reiterates with an eyeroll.
“I feel wonderful now, eroméni.” Duchess squeezes Bucky’s hand before ducking under his arm and pressing her forehead against Hecate’s as they intertwine both their hands, the power swirling softly around the two of them.
Bucky can feel the comfort in the darkness and mist that surround them temporarily, the two pulling apart and grinning at each other more like sisters or best friends than what they were.
“Mistress, this is my Bucky,” She stretches her hand out to him, Bucky forever heeding her siren call as he slips his hand into hers. “And that is our Steve Rogers.”
“I am honored to be in your company, gentleman. My mikrí mou skoteiní needs more family. I am glad she has found not only her mate, but a pack.” Her face shifts minutely from ecstatic to a little teasing. “One that will surely grow soon?”
“My baby doesn’t need to be having babies just yet!” Cerberus says in his deep honeyed voice, the slight echo noticeable now.
“My ma raised me right, ma’am. I got to mate and marry her before we go that path. My girl hasn’t even been to Coney Island.”
“Psssh. You haven’t been to Disneyland.”
“I was starting with Brookyln and Coney Island, doll.”
“Whatever you say, handsome,” She sighs out with a smile as Hades chuckles.
“And so it begins, Bucky.” Bucky grins down at his mate.
“I can’t wait.”
“Cheeseballs...the both of you,” Steve laughs out as Hades pulls Duchess into a hug, kissing her forehead before pulling away.
“Bring the boy down in a few days for brunch. Persephone will be elated, well more elated, to see you mated and bonded. Steve is welcome as well. You know how we love certain companies in the Underworld.”
“I shall bring the handmaidens as well. Perhaps we can get Mr. Rogers a mate as well,” Hecate teases again as Steve’s ears and neck turn bright red.
“We’ll call to check in tomorrow,” Hades continues, hand stuck out to Bucky who shakes it more firmly than last time which makes the God of the Underworld’s smile widen. “Gentlemen.” He extends his hand to Steve, giving him his own hard handshake before stepping back for Cerberus to enthusiastically hug all three of them.
“I love new pack members!” His echo-y deep timber reveals his obvious happiness, Hecate eye rolling good-naturedly beside him.
“I’ll text you later,” a smirk is painted on her full lips as she stares at Duchess. “But I understand if you are busy.”
“Goodnight Hecate!” comes Duchess’s embarrassed reaction, Bucky wrapping his metal arm around her waist and winking at Hecate. “Stop that!” She swats at Bucky’s chest playfully, just for him to catch it and kiss her fingertips.
“Let’s head home, doll.” Her eyes brighten instantly.
“Ooooh! I’ve never been to Stark Tower!” She states as Steve full belly laughs.
“He meant your bar or our shared apartment in Brooklyn.”
“But I’ll take you to the Tower in a few days,” Bucky promises with a kiss to her open palm as her temporary puppy dog eyes brighten.
“Goodnight all,” Hecate and Hades state simultaneously as Cerberus gives Duchess one last kiss to her cheek before rubbing his own cheek against it.
“Goodnight!” Steve, Bucky and Duchess chime in reply, watching the gods and guardian take a handful of steps before disappearing further up the path to the right, Bucky leading his pack down the left path towards 74th Street. 
“So, whatcha up to later, Sargent?” Duchess begins as they enter the area just before the Boathouse Restaurant, squinting just a bit at the brightness.
“Well, I got this mate who smells like fresh baked bread, lemon squares, cayenne, and a little hint of mint - who is in dire need of a mating mark and bond. And lots of baby making practice. Then I was thinking I take her for lunch at the Tower in a couple days to show her off.”
“Can you schedule an old school tour after the Tower lunch?”
“Of course, doll,” Bucky’s accent thickens a little as her eyes soften as she looks up at him. “I’ll even show you everywhere we got our asses kicked when we were young.”
“And by ‘ours’ he means mine after 1934,” Steve says from Bucky’s other side with a scoff, sending Duchess a wink as they get past the Alice in Wonderland bit and start on the path down towards the Model Boathouse.
“Whatever you guys wanna show me,” Duchess sighs out happily, leaning into Bucky and reaching around his back to take Steve’s hand. Steve squeezes back before kissing the back of her hand and releasing it, happy to have her in the pack.
“I’ll grab some stuff, but I’ll stay near - up in Natasha’s apartment a few floors up. Just let me know when it’s safe,” He chuckles out as a flustered look passes over her face. “Don’t worry, kid, it’s natural. Just lots of good luck to our furniture in the house with this Alpha.”
“Is Natasha’s floor far enough away, punk?”
“Well, I love my pack already,” Duchess murmurs as Bucky and Steve continue ribbing each other, watching the stars compete with the New York City lights as a few leaves rustle in the breeze and fall on the bright path ahead of them.
“Doll, as corny as it sounds, it’s amazing how I could try but I could never explain what I hear when you don't say a thing. Just your scent and hearing your heartbeat is a different kind of magic,” Bucky whispers against her hair before kissing her soft cheek, his metal fingers entwined with hers naturally.
“If every bit of magic was stripped from me tonight, I would be okay with it. Because the best magic I’ve ever received is you.”
Bless ya’ll for making it through my long ass rambling stories <3
@stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @thewhiterabbit42​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @mizzezm​​
**PICTURE IS NOT MINE - FOUND ON GOOGLE**
**ALL RIGHTS TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS**​
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tteokggukk · 4 years
Text
welcome to my youtube channel → kth
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✳ pairing: idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader
✳ genre: fluff, taehyung scenario, stranger to lovers, reader is an artist who posts art videos on youtube
✳ warnings: none!
✳ words: 2.9k
✳ a/n: hello, this is my second bts oneshot/scenario. i just like to write for fun but if you’d like to let me know if there’s anything i can improve on please do so! i’d love to know how to improve. anyways, i hope you enjoy!
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"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."
You spoke in front of the camera. Sets of acrylic paint were spread out across the table next to a stand that held an 18x24 inch canvas. You were in the middle of making your seventeenth video, a highly requested one at that, and deep down you were ecstatic to start working on the painting.
Never in your life did you think you would ever start a YouTube account. You always considered yourself a very shy and private person, not one to go out of their way and broadcast themselves all over the internet. Your best friends, however, were two very well-known YouTubers and always found a way to include you in their videos and live streams. Somehow people liked seeing more of you, and so you were convinced by your best friends and the audience to start your own YouTube channel.
But you weren't very accustomed to bringing a camera everywhere with you to document and share whatever was happening in your daily life, you found it too awkward and you were still camera-shy, so you decided to create content in a way that would still keep you comfortable while doing something you loved.
An art channel.
Your channel blew up pretty fast. Requests started pouring in here and there. You became known for your very calm demeanor and artistic skills, so you took this as an opportunity to sell your works online as a way to earn some extra money for your future. Occasionally, you'd do lives to talk to your fans and you were happy at the support they showed you, which only encouraged you to keep making videos.
"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started," you told the camera, mentally telling yourself to insert the comments and messages you got in your DMs to paint this Adonis-like human being. The requests started coming in after you had an Instagram live where you did some quick sketches while playing some of your favorite songs in the back, and people noticed one of the songs you played was by him.
"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand"," you spoke, adding air quotes, "I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."
You started mixing different colors in your palette and showed everyone the picture for your reference.
"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."
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"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."
Taehyung watched as you spoke in the video, looking behind you to see a bunch of art materials. The title of the video was left ambiguously, only being named most requested video, leaving him no clue on what it was you were going to create this time.
He's been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he'd subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting.
Because of your channel, he even created an anonymous YouTube account just to leave nice comments on your videos along with a private Instagram account to be able to watch your lives.
Needless to say, he didn't miss that one live where you played the song Winter Bear. It made his whole night, making him sleep with a smile on his face.
"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started." 
He watched as a bunch of comments started appearing onscreen popping up one by one as they gradually got faster, eventually covering you. It took a moment before it sunk in that he was the highly requested person they wanted you to paint. He paused the video, wide-eyed, before shouting in excitement. Jimin had to come in and check what the whole commotion was about.
"Y/n's going to paint me!" Taehyung exclaimed, his mouth turning into his famous boxy smile. 
"Ah, the YouTuber you really like?" Jimin smiles before sitting down next to Taehyung who continued playing the video, "I wanna see."
"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand", I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."
"Wow, she seems really kind," Jimin says, while Taehyung only nods, his eyes glued to the screen.
"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."
He felt his heart beat fast when you mentioned his name, and without realizing it his ears have gone all red. 
On screen, you began sketching, "You guys have also been sending me a lot of questions lately, which is why I decided to tweet about doing a q&a."
"What questions did you ask?" Jimin asked Taehyung.
"I asked her if being an artist is something she'd like to pursue," Taehyung told him.
"Ooooh, trying to get to know her," Jimin teases, "Our little Taehyungie has a celebrity crush."
Taehyung rolls his eyes but breaks out into a grin anyway, "I just respect her artistry."
"Right, okay," Jimin snickers, obviously not buying it.
Taehyung knew he was telling the truth, though. It was impossible to have feelings for someone who you only knew through a screen. He found you attractive for sure, but he of all people would know that almost no one is completely one-hundred percent themselves on screen. Genuine as you may be, there are still things that are best kept to yourself. He couldn’t lie though, if given the chance to get to know you, he’d never pass up on that offer.
"Someone asked why I don't use that much ready-made paint," You spoke on screen, "It's ‘cause I learn a lot from mixing my own colors, and also I just really enjoy it."
The painting was beginning to come together halfway through the video and Taehyung's question finally made its way to you. "Kimyeontan95 asks, ‘is painting a career you want to pursue? I love your work, by the way’."
"That was basically I love you," Jimin holds back a laugh, earning him a light punch in the arm from Taehyung.
"Thank you so much, kimyeontan95, and no, painting is just a hobby of mine and a way to earn some future savings. I actually really want to be a novelist."
Taehyung smiled after hearing you answer his question. Later on, the video was over and his portrait was complete. He hurriedly redirected himself to the link that was provided for the auction.
Something in him wanted to have that painting no matter what, so he set himself as the highest bidder and eventually had it mailed to his home where he put your work up in his room to cherish.
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A day after your video was posted, you woke up to a thousand notifications from your phone. Hundreds of people were mentioning you in tweets and you had numerous missed calls from your best friends and some texts telling you to check your online art shop. You groggily scroll through your feed, a bit confused as to what was happening.
I wanted to buy this painting and I had it in my list, but now it's unavailable!
Y'ALL WHAT RICH KID SET THE HIGHEST BID TO A MILLION DOLLARS IM CRYING
@yourtwittername are you planning to sell a new collection?
a million dollar bid wtf swownwowksodiowl
Someone just bought all of @yourtwitterusername's paintings. I'm crying in broke eye—
but like what if taehyung set that bid? @yourtwitterusername
What?
I just woke up and my mentions are pouring. What is going on? You tweeted.
Thousands of replies began coming in leaving you feeling overwhelmed and confused on where to start. Everyone was telling you to check your site, and so you did. You felt your heart almost stop beating when you saw that every single artwork you had up for sale were sold out. Nothing was left behind. You checked your emails, and the confirmations were there.
How could this have happened overnight?
ALL MY WORKS ARE SOLD OUT?!?!?!?? WHO COULDVE DONET THIS??? You tweeted, hands shaking.
You felt your heart race, a wide grin that could go even wider if possible was plastered on your face. You tried to stop yourself from screaming in excitement but couldn't so you ended up jumping up and down and doing happy dances before calming down to assess the situation. Finally, you sat down in front of your laptop to see where all your works were being shipped to.
Replies started coming in.
CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT
WILL U RESTOCK
AHSKWJOA CONGRATS BB
I'M SO HAPPY FOR U
BUT Y/N WHO BOUGHT THEM ALL
Checking your emails, you discover that your art works were all bought by one person. Anonymous. There was no name and someone requested to have their personal information redacted. 
Anonymous? Surely this wasn't a joke?
The person kept their name anonymous. You tweeted and muted the notifications just to allow yourself to focus on finding out who it was that bought everything.
At the bottom of all the removed personal information, there was one username that you were sure you've heard or seen somewhere.
@ Kimyeontan95. 
Underneath the username was a short but sincere message.
"Your videos have always helped me wind down after a long, busy day. I can't express how much you inspire me with your talent and how I wish someday you'd teach me to be half as good as you, as I'm not very gifted in the painting department. I admire how you put your gifts into good things, and I very much idolize you in one way or another. This is just a small way of showing my support for you, but also because all your works are amazing and I'd love to have a small room filled with my favorite art works. I look forward to reading works of yours soon, future novelist.”
Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you smiled to yourself. The letter was definitely heartfelt and you wanted so badly to thank the person who sent it.
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Later that afternoon, you decided to go on live to personally thank the anonymous buyer for buying your works and for sending that wonderful note. You fixed yourself up a little bit and pressed live as thousands of your followers began to tune in.
"Hello, everyone," you greeted, smiling. Replies with greetings started coming in and you couldn't help but chuckle at the eager messages your followers were sending. They truly made you happy.
As expected, several questions began pouring in.
"Right, so, I wanted to do this live because of what happened. As you may have noticed, all my works were suddenly sold out which definitely took me by surprise," you started, "Unfortunately the buyer left everything anonymous. They only left what I assume is a username and a short letter, which I will keep to myself for personal reasons."
@follower1WHAT
@follower2 will you keep selling your works?
@follower3 THATS SUCH A SWEET GESTURE THO OMG/
@follower4 am I the only one who thinks a secret admirer bought it
@follower5 check my YouTube channel I made a theory on who bought her works
@follower6 i rlly think it's taehyung
@follower7 I’'m so proud of you :(((
"If the person who bought all of my paintings is watching this, I really want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate the letter as well, you've honestly made me the happiest person on Earth," you smiled.
@follower8 AWWWWW
@follower9 ANON COME OUT
@follower10 i really wanna know what the letter says
@ Kimyeontan95 I'm glad :)
Your heart stopped at one of the replies. You took your phone immediately from its fixed position with wide eyes and began scrolling up fast because of the immediate replies coming in. Wasn't that the username?
@follower11 what's going on?
@follower12 y/n are you okay?
You could no longer find the reply so you set your phone down, fixing it back in place.
"For a second I thought the person who bought it was watching my live," you sighed and smiled nervously, "So anyways— I'd really love to express my gratitude so if they're watching, please contact me. I can't say thank you en—"
Suddenly the replies were frantic. People were sending keyboard smashes here and there. Only a few of them were actual coherent comments. "What is going on?" You asked as you began scrolling through.
@follower13 Y/N CHECK VLIVE
@follower14 TaEHYUNF IS ON LIVE
@follower15 I kNEW IT THOUGH???
@follower16 Y/N CHECK TAEHYUNGS LIVE
@follower5 Y'ALL I WAS RIGHT I SAID CHECK MY YT
Keeping your live on, you grabbed your laptop as fast as you could to check out the links being sent to your live. When it finally loaded, you could've sworn you'd have a heart attack. 
"Oh, I think she's watching me," Taehyung grinned through his live, holding his phone in front of the camera. He quickly shows the viewers his phone screen, which showed your live of you watching him through your laptop. Your eyes widened and you looked back at your phone camera that was broadcasting your live, then back at his live.
Taehyung started giggling, "I guess we're just watching each other, huh?" He smiled. Behind him were packed and unpacked parcels of paintings you recognized were yours. If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider at this, "Oh my god," you breathed out.
"I should probably introduce myself," Taehyung spoke, "Hello everyone, I'm Kim Taehyung. How are you all doing? Today I’m planning on redecorating my room after our practice. What are the packages behind me? Oh, these are paintings I recently bought."
"Are those my paintings?" You asked out loud, though you knew the answer. 
"Are those my paintings?" Your voice echoed from Taehyung's broadcast as your live was streaming from his phone. He grinned sheepishly, "Yes, these are your works, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," You smiled, "You were the buyer?" 
You mentally slapped yourself for asking such obvious questions, but you just couldn't believe everything that was happening now.
"Yes," he chuckles, "I really love your paintings." Suddenly the sound of Jimin’s voice echoed from behind and Taehyung quickly stood up to lock the door, knowing he’d get the teasing of a lifetime if Jimin came and saw him talking to you.
"Thank you so much, I—" Your voice began to crack and your eyes welled with tears that you tried to fight back, "I really appreciate it. And the letter, that was really sweet."
"No, thank you. Wait, don't cry—" Taehyung spoke nervously.
"I'm just so happy," You laughed while wiping the tears off.
The replies from both ends were coming in like crazy. On one hand, majority of everyone watching found the whole scenario cute and started pairing you two out of nowhere, though there were a few haters on the other. It didn't really bother you, you were just so happy someone you idolized noticed your work.
"I'm glad," he was watching you with a fond smile through his phone, then the sound of the Jin’s voice began coming from outside Taehyung’s room, "Sorry for this sudden grand reveal. I really can't stay on live for too long but I'd love to keep talking to you." He spoke.
"Oh no, that's okay," You spoke fast.
"Do you mind if I send you a message? Assuming you already know the username," he asks.
"No not at all, I'd love to keep talking as well," your heart was beating erratically now. You didn't have to see your face to know how red it was becoming.
"Alright, great. Um, before I end this vlive I just wanna say you're a great artist and to all my viewers watching this, please support y/n's artworks and her channel! If I see any negative comments, I'll be taking responsibility and I'll unfortunately have my agency involved in taking those out," he spoke in a commercial tone kind of voice, "And to y/n, I'll be keeping in touch.” The door from behind him suddenly bursts open and Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook rush inside.
“You were talking to her!” Jimin shouts excitedly.
“Finally!” Jungkook claps.
“Is that why you kept the door locked?” Jin teases.
“Bye, everyone!" Taehyung quickly waves goodbye to the camera and smiles before turning the broadcast off. 
You sat there stunned, almost forgetting you were also on live. You turned to your phone which was still recording you, "That was unexpected."
Suddenly, a notification in your DMs popped up. "I'll go ahead and process everything that just happened now, bye guys! See you in my next video." You ended the live with a wave and smile.
You quickly went into your direct messages and found the same username, Kimyeontan95. You opened it and found a picture of Taehyung holding one of your paintings with a peace sign on his other hand, the other members behind him posing with your other works, making you laugh.
Your heart fluttered at the message below the picture.
I hope this isn't too sudden, but would you like to go out with me sometime?
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a/n: hello! if you finished it, thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it hehe. i think i’m gonna keep posting the stuff i write bc i have so many ideas for the other members as well. also this is fun hehe. if you wanna read my other work, let’s fall in love for the night, ← here’s a link! thanks again for reading and please look forward to my future writing/edits.
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mochegato · 4 years
Text
Capturing a Dream
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 - First Mission
 She was late.  She was late. She was sooooooooo late. Stupid last minute fabric misorder that caused a backup in production, which left everyone scrambling and rushing to figure out a solution.  Bright side, they figured out a solution that was better than the original and Marinette was a huge part of it, gaining her accolades from her supervisor and the director of design.  Down side, Chimera was now extremely late for the mission briefing. Her first mission briefing.  She would be lucky if she made it there before it was over.
Marinette ducked into an alley close to the zeta tube and transformed. She grimaced as she stood in front of the opening.  There was no way to make this discrete.  It was going to announce her lateness for everyone to hear.  She couldn’t portal in just to avoid embarrassment because that was considered “personal use” and she didn’t know how much time they would have before they had to leave so she couldn’t take the chance that she would have to detransform, feed Kaalki, then retransform.  So she was just going to have to deal with the extreme embarrassment. She took a deep breath and walked through the opening.
“Recognize Chimera B12”
Chimera let out a deep sigh.  Yeah, there was no way they didn’t hear that.  She looked at the Team and noted their expressions.  Not as bad as she had been expecting, but she still felt terrible. She rushed over to the Team, standing behind everyone and trying to give Batman’s image on the screen her full attention.
When Batman paused to pull up a schematic of the area they were focusing on, Superboy leaned over to her.  “You’re late.” He said in a quietly gruff voice.
She looked up and scowled at him.  “I’m aware,” she hissed back.  “Couldn’t get away.”
“Right.  It’s not like we’re doing anything important here.” He sniped quietly.
“I know we are.  But my personal life is important too.  If I don’t keep my… outside deal happy, I don’t stay here. I get sent home and I am no longer on the Team.”  He furrowed his brow in surprise.  She frowned at him, feeling guilty for not being faster and looked back toward Batman. “It’s a balancing act.  A balancing act I’m clearly failing at.  Sorry.”
He watched her for a few more seconds before returning his attention to Batman as well.  “Sorry,” he grumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“Now that Chimera has arrived, I’ll review roles.  Aqualad, Artemis, Kid Flash, Robin, and Superboy, you will all be on tracking duty. You will work together on the ground to track the subject.”  They nodded at him.  
“Chimera, you will be on distance reconnaissance, observing the team from a distance.  I don’t want you interacting unless necessary.  Nobody knows about you yet and I want to keep it that way.  I want you calling out positions when needed and using mirage if necessary.”  She nodded at him.  “When you find him, report in, and I’ll recover him.  DO NOT ENGAGE.  If at any point you need assistance, CALL IT IN.  Don’t try to prove yourselves by doing it on your own. Everyone needs help sometimes. Make sure you are reporting your movements.” His voice made clear there was no room for argument or leeway in his statement.  He stared at each of them to make sure they all understood how serious he was.  “You leave in 5.”
The ride to the site was shorter than Chimera expected.  As soon as they landed, they tested out their coms and moved off the ship.  Aqualad and Superboy led the way off the ship. Artemis and Chimera followed behind, with Kid Flash and Robin bringing up the rear.  After a few seconds they heard Kid Flash over the coms “What do you think I need to do to get Aqualad to pair me up with Chimera on the next mission? I’d kill for some alone time with her.”
Everyone froze immediately. Kid Flash’s eyes went wide in embarrassment looking at each of them as they reacted.  Aqualad shot him an exasperated look.  Superboy stared daggers at him.  Robin chuckled and moved away from him, leaving him to deal with the repercussions on his own.  Chimera stared straight ahead, her eyes wide in shock.  Artemis continued looking straight ahead as well, but instead of staring at nothing like Chimera, she stared at Superboy.  “If he gets alone time with you, I get alone time with Superboy.” She grinned at him when he gave her a confused look.
Chimera groaned and let out a frustrated breath.  "Are you guys kidding me?” She exclaimed loudly looking at them.  “It’s like Felix all over again.  Can we focus on the mission, please?"
Robin stopped walking and turned back to her.  "Felix?"
Chimera’s eyes bugged out for a second chastising herself for giving away that clue to her identity, before her face went slack.  She turned away from the group and started walking away.  "How about we agree whatever personal information we find out about one another during a mission we ignore?  Now let's track this guy down.  I’m moving to my position."  The rest of the Team looked at each other and nodded.  They would table that conversation until later.  Right now, they needed to focus on the mission. Once Chimera was in her position, they’d move to their own positions.
After about 5 minutes Chimera still hadn’t checked in.  The Team gave each other anxious looks.  They were ready to get moving and didn’t appreciate having to wait to move.  “Chimera, are you in position?”  Aqualad asked through the coms.  
There was a full 20 second pause before her response came.  “Having a bit of trouble getting into position.  I’ve come across a problem.” She grunted.
“If you are lost, you should be able to follow the map on your flute.  Get in position.  We can’t start until you are.” Aqualad chastised her.
They heard a few noises coming from Chimera’s com but no response to Aqualad’s question. “Chimera! Stand down and get in position.”
“Your first mission and already disobeying orders?” Artemis snorted. “Damn, I’m not even that cocky.”
Chimera’s com finally crackled to life again.  “To be clear, you want me to stop fighting the guy that jumped me and is currently trying to kill me?”
“There’s a guy attacking you?”  Robin whipped around toward the direction he thought she was in.
“You thought I was making these noises for fun?” She huffed at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”  Superboy demanded starting to run towards her position.
“I’m just getting my breath back.  He caught me by surprise and got in a lucky hit.” She grumbled.
“Who is it?” Aqualad asked sternly moving toward her as well, but slower than Superboy.
“I’m not sure.  Hey scary looking guy trying to kill me, my teammates want to know your name… uh huh. Really?  I would have thought… I mean, not to criticize,” she grunted a few times as she jumped away from him or struck him, “but isn’t that a little… You know what, I really don’t have the right to critique names as being too on the nose.  He says his name is Killer Croc.”  She paused for a few seconds giving a grunt before speaking again.  “He says to say hi.”  She said slightly strained.
“Damn it.” Robin cursed.
“We’re on our way.”  Aqualad assured her and nodded to the Team to start moving.
“Here already.” Kid Flash reported.  “He’s not even part of the mission!  How did you find him?” He asked incredulously.
“I didn’t go looking for him!  I’m just lucky apparently.” She chuckled out wryly. “Look out, Kid Flash!”
“I’m almost there.”  Superboy called to her.
“Take your time.  We’re just getting to know each other.  He said he wants to have fun with me later.”  Chimera commented with a fake casualness.
“I think your definitions of fun might not match.” Robin remarked drolly.
“Only one way to find out.” She shrugged.
“We’re super excited you’ve decided to come out from the sewers.  We’re looking forward to chatting with you.”  Kid Flash added coldly, running to hit him.  Killer Croc turned just out of his reach and caught him with his tail instead, sending Kid Flash flying down the street.
“Kid Flash!”  Chimera yelled moving toward him.
“I’ll be there in about 20 seconds.”  Superboy stated.  
Chimera nodded even though none of her team could see it and turned back to Killer Croc.  “I’ll have him ready for you.” She whispered to her coms.  “Hey evil killer guy, I heard you were difficult.  You’re really embarrassing yourself here.  I expected better.” She loudly taunted Killer Croc.
“What are you doing?” Superboy yelled into the coms.
They could hear Killer Croc growling at Chimera before she whispered, “Mirage…” but nothing around her seemed to have changed.  Slightly louder she said, “Superboy, expect him from above you in 3, Voyage…. 2, 1.”
Killer Croc lunged at her, throwing his full weight at her in an attempt to break as many bones as he could with his impact.  Instead of hitting her, he found himself falling from a portal in the sky a few stories up.  He braced himself to hit the ground, but it never came.  Instead, he got hit from the side with the force of a building collapsing. He hit a nearby building with a sickening crack.  The force of the impact crushed the bricks where he hit and caused cascading cracks radiating out from the impact site.  
Killer Crock shook his head as he fell to the ground on all fours and looked over where the first hero had been.  Everything looked exactly the same until suddenly she disappeared and a portal stood where she had been.  She reappeared a few feet away at Kid Flash’s side.  He shook his head to try to make sense of the change and looked back to the building that had hit him.  He barely had time to take note of a boy in a black shirt and red ‘S’ stalking toward him, eyes glazed with rage, before the boy raised his arm and punched him again, knocking him back into the building.  
Superboy hit him again and again until Killer Croc passed out from the beating. Superboy raised his arm again but stopped when Chimera laid her hand on his shoulder.  “It’s okay,” she said softly but firmly.  “He’s down.  He isn’t a threat anymore.”
He lowered his arm breathing heavily, still glaring at the villain.
“Where do we want him to go, Aqualad?” Chimera spoke quietly into her com.  “I need a destination to move him.”
“We’ll do it the old fashioned way today and call the police.  I’ll make sure they show you Arkham later.” Aqualad stated calmly coming around the corner to observe the scene.
“Guess you’ll never know if your definitions match up now.” Artemis commented coming up next to Chimera.
“Shame.  He looked… interesting.”  Artemis let out a quiet laugh.  
“How’s he doing?” She asked nodding toward Kid Flash as she moved to check on him. He was now starting to push up onto his knees, though he was still swaying a bit.
“He seems okay, more dazed than anything.  We’ll have to give a better checkup when we get back.” Chimera reported. “I have to recharge anyway. Should I take him back to the ship?” Chimera asked Aqualad.  He nodded.
“Artemis, go with her.  Robin, I want you here to deal with the police.  This is your town, I’m sure you know them.  I’ll call it into Batman and see what he wants to do with the original mission.  Superboy, I want you to keep an eye on him until the police get here.  Do not hit him again unless he wakes up.”  Superboy nodded, never moving his glare from the villain’s collapsed body.
Superboy waited restlessly to check on Chimera, his hands curled into white-knuckled fists the entire time they spoke to the police.  After about an hour, Superboy, Aqualad, and Robin returned to the ship.  Superboy automatically sought out Chimera.  She was sitting with Kid Flash and Artemis, Kid Flash talking and making wild gestures while Artemis and Chimera laughed at him.  Superboy looked up to meet Chimera’s eyes and kept eye contact for a few seconds.   When she smiled at him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding since she was first attacked and relaxed his hands. Chimera walked over to him and gently laid her hand on his arm.  “You okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern.
“I’m fine.” He growled.  “Are you okay?” He looked her up and down, searching for any signs or injury.  “How could you let him get you like that?”
“I’ll be fine.  I’ve had worse and still won the fight.”  She gave him a small smile.  “He hits hard, but not as hard as some super teammates I’ve gone up against.” He huffed at her, his eyes still furrowed and frowning at her.  “He got a lucky hit in.  It happens.  I recovered and I had teammates there to help.  Thank you.”  Her eyes were shining with gratitude and softness.  Superboy’s eyes softened too and nodded at her.  
She could see he was still tense.  Watching a teammate get hurt had that effect on people.  She certainly had that reaction when Adrien or Alya or Nino or any of her old team took a hard hit.  “Can I give you a hug?” She asked tentatively.  Hugging her friends after the fight had always calmed her down. She hoped it did the same for him.
He stared at her uncertain how to respond for a few seconds but finally nodded again and opened his arms to her.  She smiled at him and walked into his embrace, holding him tightly.  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her firmly to his chest.  He rested his head on hers, holding her close for a few minutes, slowly relaxing in the knowledge she was safe and close.  
<><><><><> 
Superboy watched Chimera as she sketched in the common room.  She sat with her back against the armrest of the couch, her legs stretched out across the couch.  Luckily, she was short enough that it still left room for Superboy. She had turned on some old looking movie she was barely paying attention to.
He walked in, sat on the free cushion, and watched the movie for a few moments.  “What even is this?  This is terrible.”
She looked up startled like she hadn’t noticed him sit down.  “Hey.  This is Highlander.”  He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  She gave him a sheepish grin.  “One of my friends is a movie guy.  He thought I might like it.  Good period costumes, he said.  Fun sword play and light shows.”
He nodded and looked back to the movie.  After a few minutes of glancing at Chimera from the corner of his eye he finally asked the thought that had been on his mind since their mission.  "So… who's Felix?"  He didn’t look away from the movie when he asked.
Chimera glared at him.  "I thought we agreed we forget any personal information we find out during a mission."
He finally looked over at her with a dubious look.  "No, you suggested that. None of us agreed to it."  He leaned back and rested his elbow on the back of the couch.  "So, tell me about Felix and how do I find him? I just want to talk to him."
She snorted.  “You’d be the first.  Most want to punch him in the face.  Which is exactly what I did and I can assure you it is in fact as gratifying as you hope it would be.”  She gave him a grin.  He huffed out a laugh before turning his attention to the movie.
After a few more moments, she looked back up at him.  “So… are you excited for school?”  
He groaned.  “No.”
She furrowed her brow.  She really wished she could go with him to help him at school.  She was nervous about making friends in her new school too, but at least she was used to school.  This was going to be Superboy’s first time going to school at all.  She really wanted to forget about the whole identity issue and go with him, or get them to send him to her school so she could keep a covert eye on him, but they wanted to keep him close.  “Sorry,” she mumbled instead.  “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”  
He looked at her for a second or two as he thought about it.  He motioned to his shirt and gave her a confused look.  She looked back at him in horror.  “You can’t wear that!  Secret identity.  You have to wear something different.”
He groaned and huffed at her.  He thought for a second then took off his shirt, turned it inside out, and put it back on that way.  Her eyes opened wide in surprise and she blushed heavily before turning back down to her sketchbook.  “Yeah, um… No.”  She stammered out, focusing solely on the blank page in front of her and willing her blush to go away.  This is not how teammates react to other teammates.  “I’ll come up with something else for you.  What colors do you like? “
He furrowed his brow and looked down at his shirt.  “Black… red…dark.”
She nodded, “Broody colors.  Got it.”  He scowled at her.  She gave him a cheeky grin.  “I’ll have something for you tomorrow.  We’ll work on what your style is as you decide what you like.  I should get your measurements though.”  She looked down at her notebook and started sketching again. After a few moments of sketching, she looked over shyly.  “But, so you know, maybe don’t do that at school.”  She said motioning toward his shirt.
He frowned at her, “Why?”
She stared at him incredulously for a few moments, trying to decide if he was serious or not.  She finally realized he was when he continued to frown at her, confused about her concern.  She wasn’t sure whether his innocence was incredibly sweet or concerning.  “Oh, my sweet summer child, I really wish I could be there to protect you tomorrow, but… identity, you know?  So I’m going to need you to protect yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning to the movie.
She continued to stare at him a bit longer before speaking up again. “You know you’re handsome, right?”
His head whipped toward her, his eyes wide.  “You think so?”
She let out a disbelieving laugh and smiled at him.  “I know so.  Extremely handsome and broody.  A bad boy with a good heart.” His cheeks started turning pink as she spoke. Every word turned them darker.  “People are going to be falling all over themselves to get close to you.  Boys, girls, thems.  You’re going to get all of their attention.  Some will show it like Artemis, some more subtle, some less subtle. You’re going to get a lot of attention at school, people wanting to get close to you because you’re handsome, not everyone, but some.”  She paused to look at him earnestly.  “Just be careful.  Make friends with people who make you feel better, happier, lighter.  You don’t have to make friends with anyone, but if you meet someone you like, you should.  Although if it seems like something someone says is too good to be true, it probably isn’t.”  She warned him with a dark look crossing her eyes quickly.
“I don’t need more friends.  I have enough friends. Friends who think I’m extremely handsome.”  He grinned at her.
She burst out laughing not expecting him to be that bold.  She rolled her eyes.  “You don’t need more friends, but more friends can make life better sometimes.  If it’s the right people.”  He grunted and turned back to the movie.  
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Chimera sketching different outfits for Superboy, Superboy watching the movie and frowning occasionally.  The silence was broken occasionally with Chimera asking him if he liked some element of a character’s costume or not.  About half an hour into the movie Superboy grumbled, “This movie is depressing.”
Chimera looked up from her third sketch and took notice of the movie again.  “What makes you say that?  The effects aren’t that bad, not for that time anyway. I mean the sword fighting could use some work and the accents are terrible, but… I think it’s fun.”
Superboy continued to watch the movie for a while longer.  “I don’t age either.”  He said quietly.  Chimera looked at him questioningly.  He sighed and looked down.  “I’ll be this age, physically at least, for the rest of my life.  Part of the cloning process.”
Chimera gave him a sad look and reached out her foot, the only part of her body that was close enough to touch him, to pat his leg.  “At least you’ll be hot.”  She offered with a sympathetic smile.  He huffed at her and returned to watching the movie, but he couldn’t help the small smile on his lips.
She watched the movie with him for a while longer watching as the main character’s wife died of old age in his arms while he was still the same age as when they met.  She frowned at the screen and said quietly, “I’ll age, but much, much slower than everyone else.”  Superboy looked over at her in surprise.  She offered him a mirthless smile.  “It’s part of the powers I have now.  I’ll live for centuries if I want to.”  She looked back to the movie and frowned as the main character buried his wife.  “I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
Superboy nodded at her.  “At least you’ll be hot.” He offered with a smile.
She laughed out loud at him.  Once she settled down she gave him a crooked smile.  “I’d take that more to heart if you had any idea what I look like.”
He gave her a small smile and watched the rest of the movie in silence.  When it was over, he looked over at Chimera to find her examining him with her eyes narrowed as though sizing him up.  “What?” he demanded.
“You should use the name Conner for school.”
“Like the guy in the movie?”
“Yeah.  You need a name.  Conner’s a good name.  I think it suits you.”  She nodded as she said it, like it was decided.
He fought the blush that wanted to appear again.  If she liked the name, that’s what it would be.  “I can live with Conner.” He nodded nonchalantly, trying not to give away how significant he thought it was.
“No, I live with Conner.”  She gave him a cheeky grin and started laughing at her own bad joke.  He groaned and threw a pillow at her.  Thankfully, she was in her suit because he threw it with enough force to burst the pillow open when it hit her.  She laughed harder as the fluff rained down on them.
“But, so you know, maybe don’t tell jokes like that at school.” He said in mock distain.
She smiled wistfully at her sketchbook.  “Yeah, I think my old partner rubbed off on me.  He would have loved that joke.”
“Old partner?”
“Yeah… um… I don’t think… identity secrets, you know?”
“Okay.  Can you say, is he still alive?”
“Yes, he is.”
“What happened?  Why isn’t he your partner anymore?”  He paused for a few seconds to gauge her reaction.  “If you can say.” He added quickly.
“I can’t…identity.”  She gave him an apologetic look.  They sat without looking at each other for a while.  “He’s not a hero anymore.” She whispered after a few minutes.  He looked up at her with wide eyes.  “Oh, no.  He didn’t become a villain.” She rushed to reassure him.  “He just… he went through a lot and decided to walk away.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Um…I miss…” She thought how to word her response.  She wanted to answer him honestly, but it wasn’t safe for anyone to know they were still close.  “Yes.”  She answered instead.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.  He was my teammate, my best friend.  I’m happy he did what he had to do to take care of himself.  He’s happier now, or he will be eventually.  And now I have a new team and more friends.  We both did what we had to do.”
Conner nodded and looked around the room trying to figure out how to make the air feel less awkward.  His eyes landed on the end of the credits.  “He’s not the guy that recommended this movie is he?  Because that is not a good friend.”
She barked out a laugh.  “He’s not.  But the one that recommended it is like a brother, so watch it.” She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed her pencil at him in mock threat.
“Maybe I’ll get to meet him someday then.” He kept his voice light but gave her an uncertain look.
She gave him a brilliant smile and nodded.  “I hope so.”  He smiled back at her and helped pick up the pillow fluff that surrounded them.
 Tags:
@mickylikesstuff @mystery-5-5 @roguishredaxion
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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years
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it was all yellow
request from nonnie!!! “hi love, wanted to throw out this request before camping ;u; only if you're up for it, for either of the twins: i'd love something fluffy inspired by one of my favorite text posts on this site: she guessed my favorite color first try.. but between me and u.. i didnt even have a favorite color until she yelled out yellow! she was hella excited n smiling like a little kid, so i told her she was right and i havent seen yellow the same since, its in everything. i could probably live in it now. 🌻”
pairing: fred x hufflepuff!reader
word count: 3k
A/N: love me a good cheeky fred. also this prompt was FUCKING adorable and i did try to incorporate the actual quote into my writing but some of it didn’t flow.. so i hope it’s still as good as you’d imagined?? also def listened to coldplay’s “yellow” whilst writing this x
tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic | message me to be added, loves!
“Mr. Weasley!”
Umbridge’s voice is shrill, and it immediately pulls Fred out of his daydream-like state, but not quickly enough for him to turn his attention toward his professor and avoid making incredibly embarrassing eye contact with you. The entire class, much to his dismay, turns to glance at him -- you included. It’s unlike him to feel so insecure, so embarrassed, but alas -- here he is.
“Yes, Professor?”
“Is there a reason,” Umbridge hisses, the edges of her lips curling into a rather evil smirk, “that you’ve chosen to completely ignore me during the lesson?”
Fred considers this for a moment. He could take this opportunity to explain to his professor that yes, now that you mention is, there is a reason. A huge reason. He could then proceed to tell you about all of the overwhelming feelings that have seemed to take over him the last few weeks. It could be a grand gesture, couldn’t it? Scooping you up into his arms, sliding a hand around the back of your neck, telling you just exactly what keeps him up at night -- that adorable smile of yours, and the pineapple scent in your hair. It’d be all the castle would be able to talk about, wouldn’t it? Plus, to be able to ignore Umbridge even more and do something so utterly abysmal in the middle of her lesson and have the rest of the students cheer him on, well -- it’s something Fred’s always dreamt of.
“I’d love to see the look on Umbridge’s face if I ever chose to cause mayhem in the middle of one of her lessons,”
“Easy there, Freddie. Don’t want to go getting any more detentions, do we?”
“Darling, mischief is my middle name. I need to prank. My life depends on it.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? Just trying to look out for you, is all.”
“You’ve really got that Hufflepuff stereotype of ‘loyal’ down -- you know that, right?”
He supposes, when he thinks about it now, that you were right. You’re always right. He reckons it wouldn’t be such a good thing to cause such an uproar, especially since Umbridge is nearly always on his tail, and is one step closer to knocking Dumbledore out of his post as Headmaster. Fred doesn’t want to give her any more of an edge, does he?
Next to him, George brings Fred back, yet again, from another daydream with a quick kick to his knee. He grips the desk tightly and hopes that his face isn’t flushing bright red. Umbridge’s smirk grows even deeper, and Fred, ignoring his instincts to grab you and run out of the lesson right this instant, merely clears his throat. “No. There isn’t.”
“Good,” Umbridge hisses again, turning her attention back toward the board. “Now, to continue..” Fred relaxes a bit and slumps in his seat, feeling rather grumpy, but his spirits lift almost immediately, and his insides seemingly twist into a tight knot when you send him a soft smile from across the room.
-- -
Fred is shaken awake, only to be face to face with a very cheeky looking George, who then proceeds to throw a notebook straight into Fred’s cheek.
“Oi!” Fred shouts, coming to, bringing his hand to his jaw. “What the bloody hell was that for?”
“You do realize it’s the middle of the day and you’ve fallen asleep directly in the middle of the courtyard, yes?”
Fred kicks the younger twin with his foot, and George and Lee begin to laugh. Fred had been having quite a lovely sleep, thank you very much, and is now annoyed that his brother and friend had chosen to wake him. As he sits up from the bench, adjusting his loose tie and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lee offers, “You talk a hell of a lot in your sleep, mate.”
Much to his horror, Fred freezes. This whole talking-in-his-sleep thing is relatively new -- he’d never, ever done that before. It seemed to have happened to him a couple of weeks ago, when he began repeating the days’ events -- ones that included you -- over and over in his mind before falling into a peaceful, and rather deep, slumber. It seemed to have happened when he started to look at you in a new light.
“And what exactly was I saying?” Fred asks, trying to shrug off his nervousness.
George and Lee both suppress a laugh and share a cheeky exchange, and Fred feels his heart leap into his throat. “Oh, you know.. mumbling on about lessons, and things. Bits of parchment you need to finish. Normal musings.”
Fred sighs rather dramatically before relaxing again. He hates this whole being-on-edge thing that comes with having a massive, over-the-top crush on you. “Oh,” George continues, his grin only growing larger, “and something about Y/N being the colour of sunshine, or something?”
As Fred’s eyes widen with embarrassment, George and Lee’s laughter only seems to grow louder and it echoes across the courtyard. This grabs your attention from across the way, and you smirk at Fred. You seem to be working on a bit of homework -- you’re leant against a large tree with your bag and robe next to you on the ground. Your hair is pulled back and you’ve got the end of your quill in your mouth, as if you had been pondering something right before you met Fred’s gaze.
“Thank Merlin she wasn’t over here, or you would’ve scared the poor girl away,” Lee says in a mocking sort of voice, which only seems to intensify Fred’s nerves.
Fred can’t help but fall into a bit of laughter with his friends too, even though the mere fact that he’d been talking in his sleep, about you, in the middle of the courtyard, makes his entire body hurt. ‘Thank Merlin’ is right.
-- -
The colour of sunshine. Ugh. How could he have been so painfully cheesy? Fred thinks about this all day long -- through every lesson, through every stroll down the corridors, through every bite of the evening feast. He can’t simply believe he’s said this out loud, even though it’s true. The truest words that have ever come out of his mouth, even. You are the colour of sunshine.
Simply bright and beamingly so -- the most beautiful of yellows.
You, he reckons, are pure warmth -- enough to soothe him on even the coldest of days.
“You know,” your voice, now closer than it seems, makes Fred jump and snap out of his own thoughts, much to George’s amusement, “this whole not-being-able-to-eat-with-your-mates-from-other-houses thing is simply stupid.”
“Why don’t you go and give Umbridge a piece of your mind, eh?” George asks you.
Your grin deepens, but you shake your head and begin to shovel dessert onto your plate. “It’s her own fault if she doesn’t notice a Hufflepuff amongst a group of Gryffindors. She’s supposed to be the Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” you say a bit stuffily, as if to imitate the woman in question, “is she not?”
“Brilliant,” Fred replies as he finds his voice. “An uncanny impersonation.”
You flip your hair over your shoulder and Fred notices a dimple appear on your cheek. He finds himself lost in your eyes as you peer at him softly over the top of your teacup, which you’ve brought slowly to your lips.
Fred’s happy to hear when you bring his all time favorite thing about the magical world into conversation and does his very best to hide his ever-obvious feelings. “Rumor has it McGonagall and Dumbledore have been pleading with Umbridge to let Gryffindor play Quidditch this year,” you tell the twins.
They peer at you with confusion. “What?” they ask together. Fred continues, “Why? What’s she going to do -- ban all teams except Slytherin? Then they’ve got nobody to verse,” he lets a laugh escape his lips.
George huffs a bit before sipping his tea. “She’s such a bloody idiot. No, I will say it louder, Ron,” George shoots his younger brother a look as Ron closes in on himself a bit, “she’s a power-hungry, egotistical toad who has no business running a bloody school.”
“The truest statement,” you point at him and then bite into your cauldron cake, “but no worry -- she’s apparently agreed to the whole Quidditch thing. Now you two’ve just got to smack the bludgers straight at Crabbe and Goyle’s heads. They’re certainly large enough -- should be easy targets.”
Fred cannot help the enormous laugh that escapes him due to your joke; in fact, he’s sort of surprised it’s only gotten the attention of half of the Great Hall, because it seems to have echoed throughout the entirety of the large room, reverberating off of the walls. Unfortunately, though, Umbridge notices and makes a beeline right toward the Gryffindor table. You turn to Fred and George, shrug your shoulders a bit and proceed to roll your eyes at the very pompous “hem-hem” that is too disturbingly sweet and high-pitched in your ears. “Miss Y/L/N,” she says in her most mocking tone of voice, “please correct me if I am mistaken but I’ve assumed by the yellow color on your robes that you are a Hufflepuff and not, in fact, a Gryffindor, as you’ve so decidedly claimed yourself.”
You turn toward her, a very large grin painted across your face, and simply reply, “No need for corrections here, ma’am.”
“Good,” Umbridge says curtly before turning on her heel. “Best return to your house table, then, before we slip you lot into detention, yes? I do hope it was worth the embarrassment, Miss.”
Embarrassment? Please. You stand up from your seat and chug the rest of your tea and pop the rest of your cauldron cake back into your mouth. You lean against the table, reaching across to the other end to grab yourself another pastry, and get as close to Fred as you possibly can. He notices a bit of a twinkle in your eye, something that’s suddenly driving him absolutely mad, when you say to him and only him, “Definitely worth it.”
A very cozy feeling sweeps itself through Fred’s bones.
-- -
The Gryffindors are lucky to have such two stealthy beaters on their team, because Fred and George know the ins and outs of the castle like nobody else. This comes in handy after a playful, late night match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, when the twins are able to sneak the entire Hufflepuff team, and even a few spectators, into the Gryffindor Common Room.
And as if he isn’t excited enough already at the pure theatrics of this entire thing, Fred finds himself smiling even more so at the sight of you, nestled in a corner with a few others, a Butterbeer clutched tightly in your hands, your cheeks rosy and flushed.
He’s reminded of a few weeks ago when he snuck into the Hufflepuff Common Room with you -- very late at night --
“Don’t you trust me?” you’d asked, taking his hand in yours.
His heart had skipped a few beats, if he was being honest.
“Merlin, it’s bright in here!” Fred had exclaimed when you’d both entered. The inviting colours had swirled around him. “How you people get any work done is beyond me. I’d never be able to focus --”
You’d laughed and shoved him. “Fred, you can’t focus, regardless.”
He’d just shrugged and sat down next to you near the fire. The entire room was empty except for the two of you. “I’ll give you that one. It’s just -- it’s so much different from our common room.”
“Well, it’s bright yellow. Plus, it feeds to all of the ‘Puffs' personalities. What did you expect, silly?”
He’d smiled at you, nestling himself comfortably against the edge of the couch. I haven’t seen yellow the same since, he’d wanted to tell you, especially because of the golden colour of your hair. “Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, I’ve got to say -- I’m rather fond of it, actually.”
His heart had nearly constricted at the feeling of you placing your head onto his shoulder. He’d been happy you couldn’t see the shock rising on his face in that of a crimson red colour, since you’d been so focused on staring into the flames. He’d suddenly felt warm -- incredibly warm. He’d willed himself to believe it was the fire, and not the feeling of your soft hair brushing against his neck. “Oh yeah? Yellow your favourite colour, and all?”
I could get lost in it, actually. Fred had to force himself to swallow over his own nerves a few times before he’d been able to say, “You could say that.”
Now, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he darts past a very confused looking Neville and plops himself down next to you, completely ignoring the fact that he’s interrupting your conversation with the others. “Hey,”
“Well hi,” you say, turning your attention toward him. He can smell the pineapple scent of your shampoo and is nearly sent into a dizzying overdrive, but he does his best to focus on the feeling of the cold glass in his fingers. “Great match.”
“Even if we did beat you guys?”
“Yeah,” you reply tersely, “Hufflepuff’s saving their strength for your actual match so they can kick your arses.”
Fred laughs haughtily and scoots a little closer to you on the steps as the others around you both disperse and head off in their respective directions. He can hear the steady pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears and decides to take a leap of faith. “Maybe. Although I will say -- you’ve got to be more careful with your leering, love.”
“Meaning?”
“Pretty sure you didn’t take your eyes off of me the entire time. You were full-on staring.”
Fred notices the pink on your cheeks seemingly deepen a bit, but you don’t let on to any embarrassment. He grins at you. “Perhaps I was. And if you’ve noticed, it means you were watching me back,”
His smile only grows at your mock voice. He replies with the same tone, “Perhaps I was.”
“You can’t do that during an actual match though, sir,” you tell him, bringing your goblet to your lips and sipping significantly, “otherwise you’re going to be distracted and I reckon you’ll be hit with a bludger, don’t you?”
Fred twirls his goblet in his hands, desperately trying to read your face and your tone. He’s having a hard time deciphering. “You do make a good point.”
“Besides,” you continue, a small smirk making the edges of your lips curl, “we can’t have you getting distracted. Although, I understand how difficult it can be -- considering I’m the colour of sunshine, and all.”
It takes a moment and a laugh before Fred’s registered what you’ve said, and you glance back down at your goblet, giggling into it a bit, and he shakes his head before turning to look at George and Lee, who seemingly have been watching you two this entire time, because they immediately glance away and immerse themselves in conversation with others around them.
“And we know how brilliantly blinding sunshine can be, don’t we, Fred?”
Someone’s playing very loud music and Fred wonders how Umbridge hasn’t caught you all yet. Or perhaps, he thinks, maybe the booming just sounds louder in his own ears.
“Almost as blinding as love, d’you reckon?”
Fred feels that warm, homely feeling take him over yet again -- but this time, he knows it’s not from the butterbeer, or the raging fire. He doesn’t even try to pretend. It’s all from you.
“Yeah, yeah -- tease all you want,” he says as confidence engulfs him. He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
You place your goblet down on the step next to you. “I wasn’t teasing,” you say very matter of factly, “so much as I was trying to get you to kiss me, actually.”
He purses his mouth into a very smug smirk and watches as your eyes dart down to his lips, and you bite down on your own. He leans in, the rest of the music and chatter surrounding you both seemingly drowned out by the steady pounding of his own heart, when --
“Oi, Freddie! C’mere, mate!”
Clearly Ron’s incapable of seeing that we’re in the middle of something, Fred wants to tell you. Instead, he pulls away slightly and whispers to you. “Want to sneak up to the Astronomy tower?”
“So late at night? How very scandalous of you.”
“Well it’s why you fancy me in the first place, isn’t it?”
He grabs your hand as you paint a very mischievous look on your face, and is about to stand up before you tug on the collar of his shirt with your free hand, pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in an electrified climax.
You try to part, but he pulls you closer to him and slides his hand down your leg. A soft moan emits your lips, and Fred wonders if he’d be able to sneak a Hufflepuff girl up to his own dormitory this evening. “Sorry,” you reply, biting down on your lip again, sending him into a complete tizzy. You whisper cheekily, “Just couldn’t wait.”
He smirks at you, hoping his giddiness isn’t blatantly evident in his exuberance, and pulls you to your feet. “Actually..” you say, playing again with his collar, “instead of the Astronomy tower, how about we head to the Room of Requirement?”
“No? Don’t want to look up at the stars, be all mushy, fall asleep in my arms?”
You actually snort through your laughter, rolling your eyes at him. “Yes, yes, of course I do, you sap. But I reckon we should save that for an actual date. Right now, I’d kind of just like to snog you for a few hours, if you don’t mind.”
He shakes his head at you with admiration. “What has gotten into you?”
Another hair flip from you sends warmth through Fred’s veins. “C’mon, Weasley,” you say, tugging his hand, the yellow fire reflecting in the light of your eyes, “don’t you trust me?”
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shippingmania · 2 years
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Another Kaden x Alister AU
Thought of an AU, what if white lombaxes are bad luck. Like, if they got involved with something bad will always happen. Such as, if a white lombax tried to cook, somehow they will always kill off part of the population. So in this AU, all-white lombaxes are to be killed on site. But here is a twist, Alister's mother believed her son can do great things and will "break the white curse" (what white lombaxes are). SO she hid her son until her dying breath, she died around the time he was 4, and Alister lived up to the age of 7 without anyone. Until one day, Alister met Kaden. Now Kaden's parents are complicated. His mother died during childbirth, and his dad is a complete dick. So Kaden basically lives all on his own. But he meets Alister and impudently gets intrigued about him.
After all, Alister is the only white lombax he has ever met. So over the course of a few years, they get to know each other and eventually slowly fall in love. Around the age of 10, they both decide to run away and live together off the land. And that is what they do. They make their own settlement of sorts and they finally confess to each other and mate. Now in this society, mating is deeper than marriage.
Mating is where you give all of your senses to your partner and vice versa. Meaning anything you feel, your mate will feel. You can also talk through the mind as well. When you mate you mate for life so there is no turning back.
Marriage is just that. Marriage is where there is a way out and you don't have to truly love someone to get hitched. So many lombaxes get married that they all nearly completely forgot how to mate and forgot all about it. Except for the high council.
The high council is the higher-ups that make all the decisions. Kaden's father is in the high council. And you should probably see where I'm heading with this, but if not, the high council is corrupted. they focus on themselves and don't care that they are slowly killing their people.
Okay, so now that that is out of the way, let's get back to the main part. So Kaden and Alister are mated and Kaden can bear kids. Cause I say so and cause Ratchet is awesome and my fave character along with Clank. Anyways, they are both around 25 standard years old, they age slower than any other race (They would technically be around 18 right now lombax age). And they have Ratchet, whom they named Kera. And the high council finally found them and sentenced them all to death. But Kaden got out of it cause of his father but married him off to some cunt.
Anyways, Kaden's 'fiance' forces him to go to his mate's execution. So as Kaden is holding Kera Kaden sings a song in ancient Lombax, only something he and Alister knows. Alister hears Kaden and joins in the song. They lock eyes and everyone is watching them. Kaden translates the last part of the song,
"And till my dying breath, my heart belongs to you;
My love, my mate, my one and only;
For into death, we will remain together;
As one, as a whole;
Until we meet again, my love;
Until we can live again, my love;
Until we are one, my love;"
Everyone is stunned by the song as they gazed at each other with a love everyone dreams of. Until a little girl pipes up and asks them what does the song means. And Alister turns to the young girl and smiles gently because even if he was ridiculed and put on the chopping block, he remains kind to everyone. And explains to the little girl what mating is. Kaden takes this moment to make his way down to Alister and lays down beside him with their son.
The little girl asks about the bundle in Kaden's arms. And Kaden proudly says that this is his and Alister's son. And asks the little girl to come up and see him. The girl agrees, curious and excited to see the newborn, and the parents barely stop her until she was standing in front of them. Kaden moves the blanket and allows the girl to see Kera's face. She's in awe at how cute the baby is especially when he opens his eyes. One green and one red. She points this out, as two eye colors mean that the child will be strong and brave. And Alister explains to her again what the eyes mean. The little girl hangs onto every word.
And when Alister finishes, the little girl thanks Alister and turns to the crowd. She explains to them how she wants him to stay alive, as Alister shows nothing but kindness and doesn't deserve to die. There's obviously commotion over this, cause Alister is a white lombax. And it takes several years until Alister can finally be released from prison. The entire time, Kaden was their 3everyday to show their son to him. Also, Alister helped improve the guard while he was in there. That was what really made them trust him. And Kera, or as the universe knows as Ratchet, grows into a protector of the great Clock after Clank sought them out specifically to up the security in the great Clock after someone nearly got in. Everyone lived happily ever after, Kera is a hermaphrodite and Clank is not a robot but an actual Zoni. Kera and Clank fell in love and mated, and had 3 kids. Kaden and Alister have twins and 2 more kids before calling quits kids-wise.
And white lombaxes started to pop out 4everywhere. Turns out, the high council used white lombaxes as an excuse to stick fear into the race and get control over them. That's all I can think of, for now, I will turn this into a fic soon.
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New Years, New Friends
Mild smut. Erik's daughter brings a friend home from college.
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When the doorbell rang, Erik's eyes lit up and he felt the excitement of the house rise. Leaving his ex with his two teen sons at the kitchen island, he jogged to meet his firstborn at the door. She'd been away at Spelman since Thanksgiving having spent Christmas with her college friend's family. It was time for her to be home.
"DAD," she yelled the second he opened the door. She flung her arms around him tight and he enveloped her as he had since she was born. He missed it too much. "Happy New Year's Eve Daddy," she grinned into his chest. He felt like he was floating.
"Happy New Year's Eve Pumpkin," he smiled pecking her on the forehead.
"Pumpkin," her friend laughed under her breath.
He could remember when his Aly was a small child taking monster shits in her diaper, that's where her nickname came from. He could also recall her running to him every time he picked her up from school and daycare. It was priceless. Time went by too fast. To him she'd always be his Pumpkin Butt.. he'd left the end off to spare her the embarrassment.
"Ahem," the youngest son's voice came from behind. Erik glanced back at the fourteen year old checking out his sister's new friend. He cleared his throat again but more aggressively from the side and Erik popped him in the head.
"You don't say hello? It's your sister boy."
"Hey," he said curtly. "Who dis?" He looked the unfamiliar girl up and down like she was a meal and Erik popped him again. "Get yo ass-" That was all that needed to be said before Delonte took off upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Probably to play videogames, he'd gotten the PS5 for Christmas.
"This is my friend Mercedes. She's who I spent Christmas with last year, her family."
Lightlbulbs turned on in Erik's head as he looked between the two girls. How hadn't he clocked it before? "Mercedes," he repeated reaching for her hand. "Nice to finally meet you, you been taking care of my daughter?"
"Uh.." She smiled to Pumpkin in confusion. He stepped aside to gesture the two inside.
"Your mom's in the kitchen with your brother," Erik gestured watching Aly's back while she sped off to the kitchen to be met with explosive greeting of her mom. "..Hol'up. I need words with you," his voice lowered. He held on lightly to Mercedes by her shoulder. Her skin was soft. "..Don't worry while you're here.. We're genuinely glad to meet Aly's partner, I mean.. We weren't expecting it but you're definitely welcome."
"Her WHAT?! Ha.. No, I swear Mr. Stevens we're only friends," she grinned waving her hands in defense. "Neither of us is a lesbian.. I can promise you that..," her eyes twinkled. He could swear there was something behind them, but he chose not to linger on it. He dropped his hand from her shoulder with a grateful nod and led her to the kitchen where the scrabble board sat on top of the island. The fam was already set up to play.
"Heyyy Mercedes," Pumpkin's mom, Khia, beamed and Erik could tell she thought the same thing he had. He'd have to clue her in that they weren't 'together'.
"Hey Mrs. Stevens.. Not scrabble," Mercedes smiled dropping into a seat like she lived there. First of all, Erik and his baby mom had never married they were just good co-parents. He looked to Khia and and she shook her head not correcting the label. "I haven't played this since I was 9. I kinda forgot how it goes." She looked to Erik.
"I'll show you," Erik's seventeen year old son Diamante moved to stand behind her and Erik hid his smirk with a quick thumb of his nose.
"D stop," Aly groaned into her palm, embarrassed. Boy was running game. Judging by the humored look Mercedes gave Aly and Aly's lil eyeroll, he'd have to do better than that. Diamante pointed out the numbers on the board and the tiles to explain scoring but there wasn't much to explain, he had to sit his boney ass down.
Halfway into the game, Aly got a call and took it upstairs. Everyone took a turn and she still wasn't back. "I feel like I should go, she might not be back for a bit," Mercedes toyed flipping a wooden tile in her fingers. She was proving to have a competitive streak much like Aly. It wasn't a wonder they were friends.
"Yeah, just go," Diamante nodded knowing full well Scrabble was his sister's Spades. She'd raise hell if her turn was skipped. "I got your back.." He licked his lips like that'd do something. He was so sure.
"Down boy," Erik muttered bringing a small smirk from him and Khia.
"Give her a minute," Khia said.
"She can go twice when she comes back, let's just play," Mercedes pouted. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since Aly left the table.
Erik was suspicious. She loved scrabble and she was winning. His fatherly senses told him something wasn't right. "Give her another few minutes."
"With all due respect Mr. Stevens, I doubt Aly is coming back a-ny-time soon."
"You wanna tell me what I'm missing," Khia leaned in. Mercedes settled in her seat like it was a long story.
"Mrs. Stevens.. Aly has a thing for this guy and I try to tell her. Mark is a bum. Mark is for the streets. But she don't hear me tho.. She answer him every time.. every time."
"Oh Lord drama," Khia waved already over it.
Erik waited another minute before he and Mercedes stood at the same time having the same thought. While Mercedes went up to check on Aly, Erik cut up a few strawberries and rinsed grapes in a bowl to take up. He used to always do it when she was especially upset. He started to knock but the door was cracked. The sight of his overgrown child laid across her old ruffled comforter brought strong nostalgia. He'd found her there in that position many times through her school days, disappointed over a friend, a boy, an assignment. He placed the bowl on the bed before sitting to take a deep sigh.
"Don't say it," Aly mumbled dryly. She had a habit of letting these things get to her. He didn't know the story but if this lil ass boy was playing her, he knew enough.
"I wasn't gonna say nothing but I love you.. and fuck that ugly lil boy wherever he is."
"He's not ugly," Aly sighed and Erik knew she was sprung.
"Anybody who play on my daughter time ugly to me."
"He's not ugly, he's the most attractive human being I have ever seen."
"Girl how?! He's white," Mercedes chuckled. Erik nearly shat himself but reigned it in, he couldn't go in on his Pumpkin while she was in a mood and make it worse. He rubbed her back instead, feeling bad for her. Hopefully the fixation would pass sooner than later.
"Aight well, when you get back to school you talk to that boy but for now you're with your family. Eat some fruit, drink some water, his ashy ankles ain't going nowhere."
Mark. Erik committed the name to his shit list. She better not ever come home with a Mark, he thought. He'd beat the boy's ass on site. Leaving her room he started to close the door gently but the door pulled from his hand with Mercedes walking out almost bumping into his chest. He backed up letting her out.
"Mr. Stevens," she smiled and he paused to hear her. She pointed to the hall. "Can I talk to you about something.. private," she mouthed. He looked in on his Pumpkin once more before shutting her peacefully in her room to regather herself. Leading Mercedes to his home office, he sat at his desk and offered her the seat nearby. It was his house. Khia had her own. Giving Mercedes the floor to speak, he watched as she walked though his office looking around at books and family pictures. She seemed to be stalling.
"Mercedes?" He looked on patiently and she finally sat down, her hands in her lap.
"Can I ask you something personal?"
"Personal how?"
"You're not married to Aly's mom..."
Erik's brow lifted. Where was this going? "...No.. I'm not.."
"I just asked because my dad wasn't married to my mom either.. Sometimes I wish they'd have stayed together because then I'd be able to see them both on holidays without choosing. But that's what happens when your parents hate each other. I wish I had a dad like you."
Erik was touched. He and Khia had their issues but they didn't let it affect their ability to give their kids the supportive, loving structure they deserved. They found a way to come together whether it be birthdays, Christmas, or now.. New Year's Eve.
"I wish you were my dad and I could come here every holiday, fuck my house," she said.
"You're welcome here anytime you want," Erik spoke from the heart. "I'll be your honorary dad." She seemed like a nice lil girl. Her smile made him smile.
"Mr. Stevens you're so nice," she beamed lifting from her seat to plop onto his lap, her arms wrapping snugly around his neck. He sat not moving with his arms glued to the arm rests, her thighs wrapping him. His eyes widened only a brief moment before he sighed deeply. Her approach was unique if anything.
"Mercedes.. Look-"
"No you're so sweet and nice and strong. My dad never held me like this, could you just for a moment.. please? Just a little bit.." Her nose nuzzled into his neck smelling him and he jolted.
"Aight chill." Hell nah, Erik thought seeing a wolf in a sheep's clothing. Still, if she was telling the truth, it was sad. He couldn't imagine not holding his Pumkin Butt no matter how smelly she was. He wrapped his arms around the girl like he would his own and she rested her face again in his neck. Patting her back, it was all good until she started rolling her hips on his lap ever so slightly. Was she humping him? He knew she was but still had to ask himself the question. The worst part of it was his dick was getting hard from it.
"The hell you doin," he squinted up. He paused her hips with a firm grip, pushing her off. "I ain't with this, you too young. You my daughter age."
"What do you meaaan, I just wanna good daddy who's gonna be good to me like you are to Aly," Mercedes pouted pushing Erik's arms out the way so she could reclaim his lap. "I'm 21. Besides.. It feels like you wanna be good to me too," she spoke breathily into his ear, her voice high and sweet. It turned him on like nothing else ever had. She grinded in his lap until she was panting with small breaths. He felt like a pervert for enjoying it.
"Mercedes. Girl.. the fuck is you doing. Get the fuck off me," his low voice rasped as she felt on his arms and his chest putting her hands in his shirt to touch his stomach, feeling his muscles.
"Why daddy? You don't like it?" She sounded so innocent. She put his arms around her waist and pressed her soft plump lips to his getting no resistance. It felt too good. He ran his fingertips under her off-the-shoulder red knit sweater and they danced up her spine before gliding down tracing the edge of her black pants. He couldn't let her get him caught up though.
"My son and my daughter up here."
"So? It's your house."
She was right about that.. Sliding his fingers down her lower back, he double-palmed her ass through the material and she sucked his bottom lip with the softest, "Please." He was up.. his dick was there. Looking briefly to the open office door, he gripped her by the base of her skull and shoved his tongue into her mouth fishing for hers. Her hips moved hard humping his lap and he pulled back replacing his tongue in her mouth with two fingers which she sucked eagerly telling him all he needed to know. She was a freak. His free hand undid her zipper and pants button. Pulling his fingers back, he spit in her still open mouth.
"Spit that back on my fingers.. Mm," he hummed watching her drool it out. Those fingers went straight in her panties. It was enough to stop her rolling hips, the cold spit on her waiting clit. He rubbed it in sliding his middle finger down to the wet opening awaiting him. She'd been wet, he could tell. "Why your pussy so wet?"
"I'm thinking bout that dick," she smiled. "I always hear Aly talking about how amazing her dad is I wanna see.."
"First of all, girl you nasty. Second.. It's big.. too big for a lil girl like you."
Her response was to mash her lips onto his again with a needy little whine, grinding roughly on his finger. He added the second, using his thumb to rub her clit as she moaned a little too loudly. He had to quiet her to keep his kids away. Palming her head again, he buried her wet lips against his, fighting to absorb every moan and whisper to exit her. He had to hold her face into his neck to silence her. She was gripping him tight and rocking on his wet fingers while he multitasked making her cum and watching the door. She sure wasn't watching. He felt her cum, she didn't need to tell him, he released her head from his neck and she exhaled, her face sweaty. Maybe he'd held her a bit too snug but she said she wanted a strong daddy to hold her.
"Where you think you going," he whispered when she got up after catching her breath. "Clean your mess." He offered up his wet fingers and she smiled again, sucking them clean with eye contact. She was living for this moment and despite the uncomfortable feeling so was he. "Aight get out, go check on my daughter. I'm a check on my son and head downstairs, but you better not say a fucking thing about this or I'm a break your damn neck, say yes sir."
"You wouldn't threaten Aly like this," Mercedes pouted.
"Stop bringing up Aly, this between me and you. You want some more before you leave you better behave."
"Okaaay," Mercedes sighed and in that moment she wasn't the only one looking forward to more. Erik felt like he'd just opened a box he shouldn't have. What would he say if Khia found out or worse.. his kids..
@thadelightfulone @mszrenee @woahitslucyylu @badgalbrix1 @supersizemeplz @idont-know-shit @ladymac82 @xsweetdellzx @chaneajoyyy
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Text
Mayhem
Summary: Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it's Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together. 
Tags: canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, death-bed love confessions, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 4.2k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
A Gift For: @habs252117 — anybody can request fics in my ask box :)
A quick recap as this follows S4E1 which is technically a follow-on from the last ep of S3:
The BAU was called to the NY field office to investigate a series of random shootings in the city, often on subways and shit. They realise that this is actually a terror cell practicing for their big attack, and as this fic starts, they believe that the shootings were all in locations they planned to bomb in order to test 911 response times. Kate Joyner is Hotch's old friend, the blonde English one from Scotland Yard and Lisa is Lisa Bartleby, the NY field office tech analyst assigned to help Penelope in the show, Spencer in the fic.
The case had been stressful enough from the beginning. Spencer doesn’t often get to join the team in the field, usually staying in his computer den back in Quantico, so he’d initially been quite excited: he’d get to spend more time with Derek, plus visit New York, which he’s always had a strange sort of affinity for, as well as see his team in action. But then he’s working with equipment that isn’t his and they slowly piece together just how complicated this terrorism ring is and things seem more… bleak rather than exciting. 
They’d all been starting to make their way back to the hotel when the news of the bombing hit the networks, and Spencer’s heart is in his mouth as he rushes back to his post, meeting Lisa Bartleby with harried nods of acknowledgement. Almost as soon as he’s settled at his desk the phone starts ringing.
“Spencer,” Rossi greets as soon as he picks up, “you’ve seen the news?”
“Yes, I— do you know where anyone is? What should I do?” he asks, feeling the panic settle on his chest, his stomach clenching in fear he doesn’t dare try and address.
“I’m here with Penelope, she’ll handle the media,” Rossi says, and Spencer realises that he can hear her low, steady voice she always employs in moments of extreme stress in the background of the call. “I need you to call homeland security and direct them to every site of the recent shootings. Tell them to pour troops in. If our profile is right we’re looking at eight suicide bombers who are about to hit every one of those locations.”
“Actually, if we’re correct, there’ll be sixteen suicide bombers,” Spencer realises with a start. “We predicted they’ll hit the second wave of first responders, too.”
Their conversation is interrupted by the news reporting that the bomb was inside a black SUV near the Federal Plaza and Spencer is pretty sure his entire body stops for a moment: cells stop replicating, blood stops flowing, hair and nails stop growing. This is his family. And he doesn’t know where any of them are, spread across an unfamiliar, dangerous city.
“Right, Spencer, do you have eyes on the Plaza?” Rossi asks, controlled urgency colouring his voice as he tries to keep himself and everyone else as calm as possible.
“Uh— yes, I’ve got like three hundred cameras there,” he says, glancing at Lisa, the NY field office’s contribution to his technological complex, as they jump into action, “give me a minute.”
“I’m here with Penelope, but I don’t know where anyone else is,” Rossi says, and for the first time Spencer can hear the panic rising in his voice. It’s quickly suppressed, but it’s there, and it does nothing to help him calm down. “Find them.”
He instructs Lisa to find every camera feed 20 blocks out concentrically from 26 Federal Plaza before fiddling with his headset, taking a deep breath, and, naturally, trying Derek first. His name has been circling round Spencer’s head like a prayer ever since they heard that it was potentially one of their own hit by the bomb, and the knot in his chest starts to unravel when he picks up the phone.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” Derek says, sounding impatient and stressed, but Spencer doesn’t mind. He’s alive. He’s okay. 
“Thank God,” Spencer breathes. He keeps him on the line while he tries Emily, who sounds just as anxious when she picks up. He doesn’t mind though, he’s keeping a tally of everyone he knows is safe and it’s the only thing making him any less panicked. When JJ doesn’t pick up, the knot tightens a little and he tries to ignore the little string of ‘no no no’s dancing through his mind. 
He hears Emily’s distressed exhale and closes his eyes for a second before forcing himself to get his head back in the game. The phone goes dead mid-JJ’s voicemail message, and then Emily drops off the call, Derek following, and that’s it. He’s lost contact with his team, JJ and Hotch still unaccounted for. Before he can actually lose his head, Lisa is calling him over, and he finally has eyes on the bombing. 
He has to watch the man he sees as a father projected through the air by the blast from the bomb, and all he can hear for a solid five seconds is the fear buzzing in the static electricity around his ear. 
⭐️
Derek arrives at the site of the explosion riled up in a way he hasn’t been for a long time, his only consolation being that he knows Spencer is safe. God, you can definitely count on working a terrorist attack in New York City to accentuate your crippling crush on a coworker; a subtle burn has settled itself across Derek’s chest, the urge to hold and protect Spencer far too distracting for the circumstances. 
He reports immediately to Captain Warner but before he’s even able to identify himself, he hears Hotch shouting desperately for help and he slips immediately into rescue mode. 
“Hey! This area’s restricted,” an ESU shouts at him, as soon as he dashes for the barrier, and he forces the blinding anger flaring in his stomach to simmer down as he turns to the Captain again. 
“That’s my boss down there,” he shouts, making himself as intimidating as possible. 
“I have my orders,” the Captain replies simply, eyes hard and unrelenting. 
“I don’t give a damn what your orders are.” He’s finding it increasingly hard to restrain his anger as he hears Hotch shout again, turning to look hopelessly down the road at him. 
“Look, I get it agent,” Warner attempts to placate him, “but we’ve been told by you that responders are the targets. So until the blast site is cleared, no-one goes in.”
Derek spins around to face him again. “You’re Marine Corps, right?” By the look on Warner’s face, he’s found his way in. “Right?”
“Please, go back to the marshaling point,” he replies, the fight draining out of him. 
“I’m not doing it,” Derek yells stubbornly, furiously. “I’m not just gonna let my man lay down there like that.” Conveniently, Hotch’s miserable call comes down the road again and Derek meets the Captain’s eyes with a hard gaze. “Never leave a man behind. You do remember that, don’t you?”
“Help us!” Hotch screams again. “We’re here! Please!”
Derek glares at the Captain, and sprints as fast as he can towards Hotch as soon as he nods his okay. His boss is clearly disoriented and in a state of obvious distress but he doesn’t look terribly injured. Kate, on the other hand, is clearly a different story, and any hope Derek has for her survival melts away as Hotch explains her arterial bleed and he has to tell him that they can’t expect an ambulance any time soon. He tries to tell the kid crouching down by Kate to leave, but he seems reluctant. 
Derek doesn’t have the headspace to analyse why until he’s finally got him to run off and Spencer’s ringing him to tell him that he’s the bomber. 
⭐️
As soon as Spencer hears Derek run off after the bomber he feels his stress levels rising again. If Derek dies before Spencer finally works up the courage to tell him that he’s in love with him, he’ll never forgive himself for being such a coward, and he’ll never forgive Derek for leaving him. 
Immediately, he patches into the marshaling point and tells the rest of them, who have only just all reunited, what’s going on. 
“The bomb,” he explains, talking as fast as he can, “it was under Kate’s SUV. Hotch is out there with her, he seems okay but Kate is really hurt; they haven’t been able to move her.”
“Where was her SUV parked?” Rossi asks as they all gather around the computer.
“Two blocks east of Federal Plaza.”
“Two blocks east and they target Kate’s SUV?” He sounds incredulous. “Have you identified the bomber?”
“Lisa’s running him through VICAP,” he says, but shrugs hopelessly. He knows it’s a lost cause.
“Call Homeland Security,” Rossi instructs Penelope. “They should be at all the murder sites. See if they found anything.” She nods and stalks away on her heels, still managing to stay cool under pressure. Spencer would envy her, but he knows it’s only an external front, only a mask she has to wear out of complete and utter necessity.
“Okay, okay, but Morgan,” Spencer says, feeling more impatient and stressed than before, “he’s run after the bomber.”
“He’s run after the bomber?” JJ asks, bewildered. “Why?”
“He was at the bomb site,” he replies. “I’m trying to trace him on the city's CCTV network, but the feeds are grainy at best and completely severed at worst.” This is feeling more and more hopeless by the second, and the light at the end of the tunnel is only dimming. 
“Keep trying,” Rossi says, and then he’s turning to the rest of the team. 
Spencer takes a few calming breaths and focuses back on the computer in front of him. Find Derek, he thinks. Find Derek and, when this case is over, stop being a coward and tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are. The pool of dread and fear weighing his stomach down only seems to deepen as he searches relentlessly through the CCTV feeds he can access, looking for Derek and the bomber chasing through the streets of the city. Eventually, he finds him and follows his movements down to the subway station. He watches with baited breath as Derek looks around the empty platform, clearly shouting to the unsub, though Spencer can’t hear what he’s saying. He speeds up the feed, seeing as it’s delayed slightly and fast forwards to Derek entering the tunnel, his sense of dread only intensifying as he loses visual. 
Trying desperately not to panic, he fast-forwards until he’s watching in real time, but Derek still hasn’t emerged, and neither has the bomber, both still hiding in the secrecy of the depths of the city’s transport network. There’s a vague spark of light — which he later finds out was the bomber electrocuting himself on an exposed part of the railway — only barely visible on the poor quality of the camera feed, before Derek emerges, looking rattled but very much alive. 
He doesn’t have much time to celebrate Derek’s livelihood, however, because JJ and Penelope are patching him back through to their conversation. 
“Spencer, Homeland Security has poured tactical teams into all the locations on the geo-profile — SWAT, bomb techs, HRT, hazmat, the works — they found nothing,” Penelope says, clearly puzzled and frustrated.
JJ’s about to reply when something catches her eye. “Yeah, all except one,” she says. “Kate’s SUV — none of the shootings were near it.”
“Maybe it’s personal,” Penelope muses. “I mean, this death card they gave us; they delivered on it.”
“No,” Spencer jumps in, realising what JJ’s getting at, “that’s just it — they haven’t. A cell as large as this one and multiple targets to choose from, they target a single SUV?”
“It’s a diversion,” JJ says, “Everything that’s happened so far has appeared to be something it’s not. The seemingly random acts of violence, Emily’s suicide by cop to make us believe it’s all over. Hotch and Kate as an endgame; they want us to think this is over. They’ve deliberately skewed our profile to make us believe they would be at the sites of the shooting.”
“You’re right. That was memorable” Rossi says, finally chiming in as he gestures to a picture of the twin towers on the wall. “This is not. There’s something else.”
⭐️
As soon as Derek manages to calm Hotch down, he summons the rest of the team to St Barclay’s and for the first time since the bomb went off under Kate’s SUV, the team is back together again.
“Are you okay?” Emily asks Hotch as soon as the team walks into the hospital. He’s scratched and bruised all over, visibly shaken, and clearly in a lot of pain but, Hotch being Hotch, he’s stubbornly refusing to accept the necessary medical attention and probably just wants to see the back of this whole ordeal, not unlike the rest of them. 
“I’m fine,” he says, clearly not fine at all but shouldering his jacket on anyway. “I just want to understand why I’m still alive. Did you identify Sam, the bomber?”
“Spencer put Sam and the other dead unsub into every known database,” Penelope offers. “Nothing.” At the mention of Spencer, Derek feels his heart clench in his chest. God, Spencer’s intelligence is so attractive to him, even though he knows it’s something his pretty boy can be so unreasonably insecure about it. He can’t wait to see the end of this night and touch him, reassure his aching, restless heart that he’s safe, alive, protected. 
Once again, he thinks cynically, nothing like a terrorist attack to leave him on the brink of finally telling Spencer how he feels. 
They quickly get back on topic, deducing as a team the terror cell’s real endgame: they’ll use a single chemical bomb planted in the ambulance. If Sam wasn’t calling 911 every few minutes but a number that went dead minutes after he died, then there’s only one reason he stayed with Hotch and Kate. To make sure the ambulance got to them. The ambulance they drove into a hospital, with the paramedic’s help, housing someone important enough to have the Secret Service protecting them. 
Derek doesn’t think. He runs. 
“Spencer?” he says, into his ear piece as he runs down the stairs, refusing to let fear come to the surface. “I need you to jam the frequencies in this cell block for as long as possible, okay?”
“What’s going on?” Spencer asks, clearly concerned, but Derek can hear him already tapping away at his computer.
“Just,” Derek pauses, takes a second to feel, process, and then suppress his panic, “just… I need you to do this for me, alright, pretty boy.”
“I’m already on it.” Spencer sounds exactly he does: carefully, artificially calm. He runs down the last few flights of stairs and into the parking garage, locating the ambulance before he hears Spencer again. “Morgan?” 
“Yeah, baby,” he says, panting half from the exertion of sprinting down far too many flights of stairs and partly from the pressure of the situation settling on his chest — the stakes actually registering for the first time. 
“You sound stressed,” Spencer says, deliberate and light. “Where are you?”
“Not where I want to be right now,” Derek replies, a little self-deprecatingly. Really, it’s just deflection; a last ditch attempt at avoidance of the likelihood he dies tonight. “Reid, take this down for me: FDNY 108.”
“That’s an ambulance, are you okay?” His voice is quick and rises ever so slightly in pitch. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just track it for me.” Tentatively, he opens the door to the ambulance, heart sinking and blood pressure rising as soon as he clocks the monumental bomb stowed neatly in the trunk of the seat. “Reid, how long can you keep jamming the cell block?” He knows he’s sounding breathless now and he knows Spencer is probably panicking, unable to know what’s going on but clearly reading enough of the situation to understand that asking would be decidedly unhelpful right now. 
“Uh, maximum of a few minutes, Morgan,” Spencer replies. “Why?”
“I’m going to have to get this ambulance out of here.” This is it. The culmination. 
“Or you could just evacuate the building like everyone else,” Spencer says urgently, sounding outraged at the idea. 
Derek cringes at the disapproval, but he doesn't have a choice. “No, as soon as the airwaves are clear, this thing’s going up.”
“Going up?” Spencer doesn’t bother concealing the outright panic in his voice anymore. “That’s like… in three minutes, that’s when the satellite moves position.”
“Reid, listen to me,” Derek says, climbing into the cab of the ambulance and beginning to fiddle with the wiring. “I need you to find me an area of town I can drive this thing, and you tell everybody, you hear me, everybody that I’m coming.” He finally gets the engine to start and begins to drive out of the garage. “Alright. Talk to me, Reid.” He prays desperately that they get this right, that Spencer helps him, that they manage to subvert this terrorist attack. 
“Okay,” Spencer says, back to his measured, calm tone of voice, and Derek sighs in relief at the sound. “Okay, head north… and floor it. I’ll tell you where to turn.” He’s almost out of the garage when the ‘paramedic’ starts shooting at the back of the ambulance, screaming in rage as Derek manages to escape both van and bomb unscathed. “What was that?”
“It was nothing,” Derek shouts, heart pounding in his ears as he turns the sirens and lights on, stepping on the gas as he heads north, “it was nothing. Just… talk to me. How am I doing, Reid?”
Derek hears Spencer ask Lisa for an update before exhaling hard. “1 minute, 50 seconds,” he replies, despair spilling into his voice. “Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to do this?” His stomach clenches at the sound of Spencer on the edge of tears and feels himself tearing up in response, swallowing his grief in lieu of actually replying. “Derek, you don’t have much time. Please be smart about this. Signal’s coming back on line, there’s thirty seconds until full coverage.”
Derek’s never driven so fast, his hands pinching at the steering wheel and every muscle tensed. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that there’s a bomb only a metre behind him, set to explode in less than half a minute.
“Derek, drive to the opening and then get the hell out,” Spencer says, no constraint to his emotion at this point, he’s almost shouting down the phone, very clearly crying, now. 
He swallows. He has no choice; he has to tell him. “Spencer,” he says, nearly choked off by a sob, “there’s something I really want you to know.”
“Save it,” Spencer shouts. “Just get out!”
“No, you know what Reid? If I don’t make it out of this alive, I need you to know that I love you, alright?” he says, finally confessing to the secret he’s been holding close to his chest for so long, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he’s throwing himself out of the ambulance and running as fast as he can away from it, still not outrunning the blast picking him up and tossing him across the field. 
Slowly, getting back to his feet, he turns to face the fire as he catches his breath. He has no idea how he’s still alive. 
Fiddling with his earpiece, he tunes back into Spencer’s line to hear him crying on the other end. “Oh, God, Derek, I love you, too,” he sobs as soon as he hears Derek click back into the call.
“Spencer, I’ll tell you what you are to me,” he says, relief and warmth and love blooming across his chest, driving out the crippling fear and panic previously rooted there, “you’re my God-given solace. Baby, you promise me one thing… whatever happens, don’t you ever stop talking to me.”
Spencer laughs wetly, and it’s the most beautiful sound Derek’s heard so far. “I’m so mad at you, right now,” he says, but his happiness is written across every word, “I’m so angry. But… I love you, too.”
Derek laughs, too, the relief of being both alive and loved by Spencer almost euphoric as he walks away from the still blazing ambulance. He guesses he has a terror cell’s failed attack to thank for his long overdue admittance of his love for Dr Spencer Reid, and the frankly wonderful news that it’s actually reciprocated.
⭐️
Derek and Hotch arrive back at Quantico 12 hours after everyone else, having driven home instead of taking the jet with the others due to Hotch’s rather inconvenient ear trauma. That only gives Spencer more time to panic over seeing him for the first time since their deathbed love confessions; they’d spoken briefly on the phone the morning before Derek and Hotch set off, promising to talk about it in person as soon as he was home, and now he nearly was.
Penelope had made a beeline for Spencer as soon as the others had arrived and taken him out for coffee, despite their mutual exhaustion. She’d deduced the situation based on Spencer’s incredibly cryptic HELP. IT HAPPENED. text message almost immediately after the explosion, having been the only one Spencer had confided in about his feelings for Derek. No matter how much she promised him Derek felt the same, he refused to do anything about it, leaving her to watch her two favourite people pine miserably for one another, and actively choosing to remain in said misery instead of confessing and being happy. 
He now actually felt bad for her. 
“Just tell him what you want,” Penelope says over the top of her latte, croissant crumbs littering the table in between them. “You want to get married and have lots of babies with him.”
“Okay, first of all,” Spencer says, fixing her with a look, “you know that neither of those things are true. And, secondly, it’s not that simple. What if he isn’t looking for a relationship or anything? Why hasn’t he said something before now?”
To her credit, Penelope avoids slamming her head into the table in frustration despite how much he looks like she wants to. “Spencer,” Penelope says, levelling a look right back at him, “Derek thought he was about to die. And in that moment, all he felt like he needed was to be sure that you knew he loves you. How could you possibly be that in love with someone and not crave a relationship with them?”
Spencer finds it hard to argue against that. 
Derek reclines on Spencer’s sofa, comfortably surveying the organised chaos of his living room, while Spencer tries to gather the snacks and drinks as calmly as possible in the kitchen, finding it much harder to assume the seemingly unaffected air Derek pulls off so easily. He walks back to where he’s sitting, and he almost drops his only slightly wobbly tray at the blinding smile Derek sends his way. 
“Oh, pretty boy, you’re spoiling me,” he teases, sitting upright and leaning forward to survey the snacks Spencer had rushed out and bought earlier that afternoon. Naturally, he blushes immediately at the compliment and sits next to him on the sofa, grabbing a drink for something to do with his hands. 
“Well, if all it takes is some cheese puffs from Walmart to make you happy then I think this is going to be alright,” Spencer says, trying for cool, calm, and collected and hitting somewhere near nervous and frenzied instead.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek scoffs as he breaks off a piece of chocolate and takes a bite. “I’m here for you, not the refreshments, luxurious as they might be. I don’t remember confessing my love to snack food in the moment I thought I was going to die.” He ruffles Spencer’s hair as his face heats up even more, smiling bashfully over at him. 
“No,” Spencer agrees, feeling all warm inside, “you told me.”
Derek looks serious all of a sudden. “I did,” he nods, leaning forward to put the chocolate down on the tray so he can focus all his attention on Spencer, taking his hands in his own, “and I meant it. I’ve probably been in love with you since you joined the team, Spencer, but I realised it properly last year, and I was always too scared to say anything. I’m sorry it had to be in that moment, and I’m even more sorry that if I’d died you would have had to live with that for the rest of your life.” He pauses and looks down at his lap for a moment. “That was unforgivable.”
Spencer smiles at him, gripping Derek’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m not mad about any of that, Derek,” he says, “I’m just glad it finally happened. And so is Penelope, apparently. She’s been telling me you loved me back for years but I never believed her; I didn’t think this would ever happen.”
Derek chuckles fondly at that and brings his hand to Spencer’s cheek, brushing his fingers across the warm skin for just a moment, but Spencer can’t help but lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering half-closed as they meet in such an intimate manner. “So, pretty boy,” he says, smile warm and eyes bright, “shall we give this a go?”
Spencer looks back up at Derek and takes a second to let the moment he’d daydreamed about for so long sink in, let himself marinate in the love that Derek has for him. “Yes,” he replies. “Please.” And then Derek’s lips are on his own, his hands around his face, and the future’s never looked so bright.
taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants
Just a note: a lot of the dialogue was stolen directly from the episode and Derek & Spencer's conversation on the phone is almost an exact transcript; it's from my notes though so it may not be perfect. It also follows the case very closely and none of that is mine. 
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taeyungie · 3 years
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name 5 creators that stand out to you and tell us why! ❤️
ONLY 5?????? 😭😭😭😭 ANONIE PLS HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE ONLY 5 WHEN ALL PEOPLE I FOLLOW ARE BEYOND TALENTED 😭😭😭 i don't like choosing because i really have something to say about each one of the blogs i follow, they're all unique in their own way :( but I'll choose blogs from the top of my head that i remember adminig for the longest amount of time! i think that's fair hehe
@jung-koook – hehe i of course had to choose Sky as the first one that comes up to my mind, the answer is not biased just because she's my best friend i promise 😂❤️ i chose her also because i absolutely cannot wrap my head around how 👏 talented 👏 she 👏 is 👏 AND SHE STILL HAS THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME THAT "I MUST HAVE MISTAKEN HER BLOG FOR SOMEONE ELSE'S" I'M LITERALLY FUMING WHEN I HEAR THAT SJSBSJJSJSJSK her content really has one of the most beautiful styles i have ever seen here, it's unmistakable, her coloring is always fitting and gorgeous, never too much and always perfectly toned. scenes she chooses to gif? always the best. her edits? gorgeous, so creative, bring me so much joy. from my perspective it looks like Sky has no bad days when it comes to creating content, everything that comes from her hands is a masterpiece, even if she thinks something she made is ugly i'm still collecting my jaw from the floor anyway, summing up she's the queen. she absolutely deserves all the compliments and love she receives and she should be complimented every day, no one's doing it like her and i'm not the first one to say it but she really is carrying our fandom on tumblr on her own shoulders, she's the most consistent in what she does, i truly admire her for that and for her dedication ❤️ my precious, hardworking bee 🐝💘
@slipped-away – HAN 👏 oh my goodness, Han. where do i even start, has everyone seen Han's gfx's, edits, icons? ONLY MENTIONING HER IS ENOUGH THERE'S NOTHING TO EXPLAIN LOL SKNSJSKS her talent is honestly mind blowing to me, her style is so unique and it's impossible to mistaken her works with anyone else, there's no need to look at url to know that she created certain thing. every work she released has so much charm and magic in it, it's incredible how she always comes up with new ideas that are all just as amazing
@kkulmoon - i always loved Amai's style so much and to me it's honestly so unique, especially her coloring, it's also impossible to confuse her gifs with anyone else's, the type of content she puts out is also so unique, her compilations and all gifs in general, i feel like they're so incomparable and i'm always getting excited like a little kid for candies when i see her new creations LOL, i sometimes scroll through her gif tag just to look at her gifs because that's how much i love them 😭❤️
@taee - in all seriousness Julia's my favorite fellow tae stan KANSJSKS even though we haven't been really talking i get such an incredible amount of joy from interacting with her on dash and screaming about each other gifs on dash LOL ❤️ AND I MEAN EVERYTHING I SAY UNDER ALL HER GIFS AND GFX'S, she's so talented in both ways that it's mindblowing to me, i don't even know where to start talking about her graphics because it's so overwhelming to me how wonderful things she releases are, i completely lose my ability to speak when there's so much that i wanna say about an art piece LMAO and all her gifs bring me so much joy too and their theme is always so great ❤️
@hobibestboy - since the first day i followed Teresa and went through her gifs i was always so amazed and excited for all her gifs, she's so good at creating such interesting and precious content, sometimes it's unbelievable that someone can put out such a good content 😭 the edits are always so creative and beautiful, the gifs are always so interesting and incredible, the coloring is unique and gorgeous, i always know that's her gifs i'm seeing! LONG STORY SHORT IM IN LOVE WITH HER GIFS 😭 her content brought me so much closer to Hobi too, and i'm absolutely overjoyed because of that, she's so talented and hardworking, she deserves all the praise and love!! 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️
I wish i could put here so much more people and i regret there was only 5 slots i could fill 😭 BUT as i said earlier, i have something like this to say for all of creators, everyone on this site is incredible and deserves all the praise 🥺
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when tomorrow comes 🌳
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good gods i know it's ship day but this is solely a gen michael & lucifer & raphael & gabriel fic :')
Inspired by Sam & Dean's S.W & D.W carvings on Baby. Who's to say the Archangels weren't first in that idea?
Rating: G (Gen Archangels fic)
Special thank you to my beta!
Playlist & Fic available on AO3. (it's also under the cut, if you prefer that!)
Heaven's lush hills always seemed greener and livelier when all four archangels lay against them. A rarity the occasion was, a trivial shard of diamond in the cascading abyss. It always seemed that Heaven needed an archangel here, there, everywhere at once; It made familial bonding far more complicated than things used to be.
However, a special day plucked from each year never failed to offer the archangels plenty of time together. A day of thanks, a day where Heaven displayed gratitude for their eldest brothers—Michaelmas, the Feast of the Archangels.
Morning sun rays highlighted soft violets and dusk plums of aster flowers, a humble gift for the very firsts of their species. By nightfall, bright angel-made clusters of heat-producing hydrogen and helium littered the black sky in the name of each archangel. Fledglings flocked to watch the fiery protostars burn in the cosmos.
While Lucifer happily revelled in the praise, Michael hid his jittery hands by tucking them behind his back and flashed a polite, yet photogenic smile to his newest siblings. Raphael, seemingly indifferent to the holiday, remained by Michael's side, occasionally shooting their brother a subtly reassuring look. Jovial, yet also graciously wanting to include others, Gabriel mingled in the crowds with the fledglings to watch the protostars, enthusiastically explaining to Heaven's children how the young stars would eventually grow to become massive beacons in the night.
By the time the thick, yet routine night fog had clouded the view of the protostars, the flocks of angels had dissipated. It was their cue to leave; The archangel hideout awaited. Or, as Lucifer liked to call it: the Badass Lair.
The refreshing air genially accommodated them, the chilled wind carried their wings as they flew. There was always a sense of thrill around the Autumn Equinox, nearing Michaelmas—perhaps it was the comforting thought of familiarity, a high from nostalgia of sorts. Whatever the seed, it didn't matter; Focusing on the blossom of a sibling’s love and appreciation was much easier.
Raphael's garden always seemed to flourish increasingly with every rare gathering the four indulged in. Even midair, as they descended upon the immense greenery below, Michael had already begun to muse about how the banyan trees had expanded since his last visit. Raphael quietly, yet blithely soaked in the adoration from their archangelic brothers.
The softness of the grass, however, always remained the same. Lucifer was the first to land, being the quickest flier of the bunch. He cracked an astonished grin as he surveyed his younger sibling's growing garden, slightly pivoting to catch the vibrance of Raphael's indigo feathers amongst the blackness of the sky.
"Not bad, Raph!" The Morningstar loudly called out, adding more quietly with a snicker, "For a kid."
The thunderous sound of strong, flapping wings echoed behind him, prompting Lucifer's playful smirk to widen.
"I'm literally only four hundred years younger than you," Raphael's familiar voice remarked, and Lucifer turned once again to meet his sibling's deadpan expression.
"And despite the age difference, Raphael has created far better things than you have, brother," Michael offhandedly commented as he silently landed farther away from the pair. Lucifer's face contorted into a pout, and Raphael fought to contain their own appreciative smile at the eldest angel's words.
"Woooow, Mi! I'm hurt!" Lucifer faked offense.
The heavy fog of nightfall seemed to become almost pellucid at the very presence of Heaven's firsts. Peeks of sheer luminosity from the protostars of Michaelmas seeped from the impervious midnight clouds. Even the banyan trees seemed to lean into the comforting presence of archangelic grace.
Lucifer squinted into the elegant cloak of the night sky. "You think Gabe's gonna break his neck when he crashlands?"
Raphael turned their attention to the sky in search of the youngest archangel in question. "He's been getting better at landing. He'll do fine."
Lucifer hummed in response, brightening slightly when he caught sight of Gabriel nearing the garden. "Mn, doubt it. Wanna bet? Loser has to listen to Michael's fifty page manifesto on why ducklings are Pop's best creation."
Raphael blinked, looking over to Michael in bemusement. "Your-... your what?"
Michael's eyes darted to Lucifer to glare daggers at him, who only sniggered in response. A gust of wind washed over the trio, and frantic fluttering of golden wings broke Michael's glower. Beside him, Gabriel was close to landing—or rather, close to failing at landing. It was really more similar to falling, with his limbs flailing all about and eyes squeezed tightly shut in preparation for impact.
Michael sighed hopelessly at the sight, extending one of his grandiose fuschia wings low to catch his younger brother. Upon the soft sensation of Michael's velutinous feathers, Gabriel's eyes reopened in surprise.
"Hey, no fair! You interfered!” Lucifer huffed at Michael, who merely rolled his eyes and helped Gabriel to his feet.
“I almost made it, I was so close!” Gabriel whined, furrowing his brows as Michael thumbed a smudge of leftover party sweets that was stuck to his cheek.
“Next time, bug. You’ll get it next time,” Raphael reassured, and Gabriel’s grace seemed to relax at his older sibling’s encouragement.
Lucifer yawned, and the twinkle of the protostars above them began to reflect the dew on the grass. “M’kay, new bet. Last one to the tree has to listen to Michael’s manifesto.”
Gabriel perked up curiously and cocked his head at Michael. “What manifesto?”
Michael shook his head and stubbornly huffed. “I was two hundred years old, Lucifer. The duckling phase of my life is over.”
“Oh? So you’re saying ducklings aren’t the greatest living creatures?” Lucifer pried, exaggeratedly leaning his ear towards Michael to hear his response. Raphael and Gabriel eyed the two bickering brothers and exchanged amused glances.
Michael shifted uncomfortably in place in an attempt to keep in his passionate ramblings; He ultimately failed. “I never said that. Ducklings are the epitome of absolute goodness and commendable purity in the universe. The best traits of all of creation can be found in their small yet mighty little bodies. Not only do they bring togeth--”
“Blegh, no more lectures! Lulu, your bet’s on!” Gabriel groaned, spreading his sets of still-developing golden wings.
"'Atta boy," Lucifer impossibly brightened, his grin quickly returning. "On three! One... "
With one singular number down, Lucifer watched in incredulity as Gabriel mischievously laughed, a flash of golden feathers passing them all by. After the initial shock wore off, Lucifer briefly hummed, nodding in approval.
"Touché, little brother, touché," The Morningstar muttered to himself, before theatrically shrieking into the night, "YOU'RE DEAD MEAT, GABE!"
Gabriel's boisterous bursts of both elated and happily frightened screams in the distance elicited an endeared smile from all three of the older angels. With a whistling streak of vermillion wings, Lucifer chased after his youngest archangelic brother.
Michael and Raphael observed them in comfortable silence, the illumination from the protostars just bright enough to see the vivid colors of their wings against the midnight sky. As the breeze audibly raked through the trees, Raphael slightly swiveled to curiously peer at Michael.
"I'd actually like to hear about these ducklings," Raphael calmly stated, gesturing with their head towards the specific tree that Gabriel and Lucifer were headed for.
The blinding look of pleased excitement on Michael's face was enough to bring a smile to Raphael's lips.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
In contrast to the vivacious growth of much of Raphael's garden, the Badass Lair retained all of its youthful glory.
The haphazardly-built abomination of a fort from sticks and logs stood distinctly adjacent to the veiny streams of the garden. Across from it dwelled a meager hill of lush grass and florid lilac petals of asters—A place where Michael taught all three fledglings to fly, a place where Lucifer created his first defective star, a place where Gabriel grew the lavender flowers as a gift to Raphael. It was their safe haven, a site of alleviation and bliss.
In the center of both dear venues settled a special banyan tree— their banyan tree.
Against the smooth, grooving bark of their tree, Michael’s ginger fingertips almost seemed to purr. The swaying aerial roots that veiled the intricate trunk wavered joyously over his head, and in a sense, their tree looked overjoyed to see Michael. Behind him, Raphael sincerely watched at the way their older brother’s fingers reverently traced the markings on their tree.
“You know… it’s not just gonna disappear, Mi,” Raphael’s voice was soft, a kind whisper carried by the midnight wind. Michael’s hand never halted against the tree bark, marginally turning his head to look at Raphael with a sad smile.
“That’s true,” Michael’s gaze fell back to the etchings on their tree. “It just seems like it was yesterday when… You three have grown too fast.”
Raphael sympathetically tilted their head, stepping forward to place a soothing hand on Michael’s shoulder. Up close, the carvings on their tree stood out boldly, a beloved memory held close to all of their hearts.
Under the then-small aerial roots of their banyan tree, each fledgling archangel had carved their names into the young bark. Something to hold onto, Michael had stated, a bittersweetness as Heaven had first begun to flourish; The eldest had an inkling that duty would steal time spent together—And he was right.
Raphael could still make out the places where Michael had once helpfully guided Raphael’s shaky hand, the spelling mistake in Lucifer’s name, the heart that Gabriel had drawn after his name, and Michael’s near-perfect handwriting, even in carving-form.
“Lusifer?” Gabriel, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, squinted as he approached the base of their tree. Both Michael and Raphael struggled to repress a thoughtful smile as Gabriel sounded it out again.
“That’s how my name should’ve been spelled!” Lucifer called out from above, and his siblings gazed upwards to catch him resting against an exposed branch. “Lucifer with a c… ridiculous! Looks like luck-i-fer.”
Michael’s rapture remained as he lightly shook his head. “Brother, you are just stating this because you lack efficiency in spelling.”
Lucifer playfully stuck his tongue out at his older brother. Michael scoffed in good nature, and Gabriel giggled at the sight. Raphael’s attention wandered outwards to the perched hill, a peaceful silence enveloping the archangelic siblings.
The argent light from the protostars shone divinely upon the lucid green and lilac of the hill, an invitation of sorts. The sifting breeze was cool, a grateful lullaby to its archangelic inhabitants. The night was the epitome of perfection, though not because of nature—rather, because of the familial love that radiated energetically from each of their graces. A comforting peace, a cherished silence of nostalgia lingered between the four… until Gabriel’s reticent, yet hopeful voice proposed a profound request.
“I wanna stay with you all forever,” His voice was dreary, a sweet innocence embedded into his tone. It prompted all eyes to shift to him. “Let’s stay together no matter what, okay?”
A beat of tranquility followed, their banyan tree leaned in to listen. Michael was the first to react, tugging Gabriel into a tight hug, a sentiment that few were blessed upon. Gabriel’s toothy beam was evident in his quiet giggles as Michael held him close, before the eldest pulled back with a gentle smile of his own.
“Of course,” Michael assured, crystal emotion brimming in his eyes.
A rapid flash of vermillion flared from the top of the tree, and both Gabriel and Michael’s squeaks of surprise induced a jump from Raphael. Lucifer, who had quite literally deliberately plummeted from the tree, now held both of his brothers in a deathgrip hug, a wide grin across his face.
“You’re a real dumbass if you think you’ll ever be able to get rid of me,” Lucifer sniggered lovingly, and Gabriel leaned into his brother’s embrace. Michael lightly elbowed Lucifer for the profanity, yet his delighted simper lingered on his face.
Raphael shuffled closer, eyeing their brothers with absolute admiration. Their hand moved to lightly ruffle Gabriel’s hair, who turned his cheery beam to his sibling. Raphael’s brothers observed them with a giddy sense of euphoria, the aura resonating a promising hopefulness in anticipation for their response.
“Without a doubt.”
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redboarambo · 3 years
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Joy.
Elation.
Regis had surprised Aulea with a trip to Altissia, one of their favorite spots to get away. They would camp on the way, their tent several paces away from the guard, just to give themselves some more privacy. It was the time when they could mostly be themselves. In the castle, there were so many people that would interrupt and bring them back to their lives as rulers. People that wanted to vie for her husband's attention, even if they were both busy. But here?
Here Aulea could be who she wanted, and they could enjoy their time as they so wished. Especially when they weren't traveling for some royal matter, but for their own enjoyment. It was t he time that the Queen loved the most. Perhaps that's why she was humming that morning as she walked down to the stream - another reason they had stopped where they had, there was a close enough location for herking to go fishing. The though alone had her rolling her eyes, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she leaned down, gathering enough of the stream water in a bottle, and cleaning her hands, before she straightened back up.
Straightening up, she looked out towards the horizon, her lips pulling up into a smile. This was everything she had been needing. It was-
The feeling of something - someone- kicking at her ribs had the queen's hand falling down to rest on her stomach.
"I know, my darling. I'm telling him when I get back to camp. He'll be so excited to meet you."
The words were quiet, murmured to the air more than anything since the baby in her stomach wouldn't be able to hear her. She had just gotten past the first trimester and was finally at a point where she felt comfortable enough to tell Regis. It was something she had learned the hard way, waiting until she was far enough along, so she wouldn't get his hopes up. They had been trying to give Noctis, their sweet little prince, a sibling for a few years now. Finally? Finally it was happening.
All she had to do now was to tell the father.
With a soft breath, and the thumb on her finger swiping along her clothed stomach, Aulea turned and started back towards the camp.
Fear.
Anxiousness.
She only got about halfway back to the camp site when she noticed something was wrong. There was far more noise than there should have been for this early in the morning, too much yelling and a noise she couldn't register. It made her hesitate, just for a moment, before speeding up, a furrow between her brow.
When Aulea was just a turn away from being able to see their tents, through the bushes came Clarius. Normally the sight of the man would make her smile, usually she'd hold her hand out towards him for him to take. While most only knew the solider as Regis' personal guard, he was so much more to the queen than that. He was a friend. A confidant. A lover. She needed him almost as much as she needed her king.
Normally, when Clarius reached out to grab onto her shoulder, she'd lean into the touch with a chuckle. The look on his face, though, froze her to the spot. "Clarius, what's wrong? You don't look-"
"You have to go hide. We don't know if there's anymore that might show up."
"What are you talking about?" His words confused the queen, her head tilting to the side to try and see through to the camp. To where the sounds that she now registered as swords clashing had faded, replaced only by silence. "What happened?"
"Soliders from Niflheim. They came out of nowhere. We were able to finish them off, but there could be more. You have to g- Aulea!"
The queen had already took off, running down the path the rest of the way. The tents came into view and her blood ran cold when she saw the bodies on the ground. Most of them were those of the foreign tech, but she could see several of their guards as well. Her eyes ran across every face, but none of them were Regis.
Silence.
Empty.
Aulea could hear Clarius calling to her, but she ignored him as she made a straight line for her tent, throwing open the canvas flaps. The moment she saw him on the ground, she crumbled to the floor. Her king. Her husband. Father to her babies, best friend and the man that meant more to her than any title or any kingdom ever could. The blood pooling from his chest was dark against the white of his skin, eyes thankfully closed.
Pulling herself along the ground, she lost track of everything. She couldn't hear herself sobbing, couldn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her into the tent. There was no noise, nor could she feel the rocks under her palms as she reached him.
"Aulea...."
There was pain in the way the man said her name, but she didn't let it stop her from reaching out to pull Regis' head into her lap, her own moving to rest their foreheads together. "Come back. You have to come back." Aulea's voice was already hoarse from sobbing, her entire body shaking as she rocked with his body back and forth. "I'm pregnant, Regis. T-the baby needs you, Noct needs you. I...."
She broke down to the point of not being able to speak, his blood starting to seep into her clothes, staining them crimson. She was oblivious to the arms wrapping around her from behind, to the voice telling her she needed to let go.
Aulea wasn't sure how long she sat there before everything went black.
Anger.
Grief.
The next thing that she actually remembered was opening her eyes in their room. She had passed out from stress and exhaustion, sobbing and shaking on the ground of that tent. Clarius had carried her back himself, Regis being taken care of by several of the guards. There were no words spoken in the car on the way back, only the man's hand running along her back and through her hair to try and soothe her.
As if anything would make this better.
As if anything would make this go away.
Aulea shuddered as she looked a round, her cold body reminding her of the fact that everything had happened was real. Her husband was gone, the kingdom had lost their king, and Noct... the baby...
Her hand fell to her stomach, wanting to hold the little one close as she she pushed out of the room. She couldn't be in the room she shared with Regis. It was too much being able to smell him, see things everywhere that reminded her of him. Without thinking, her legs carried her through the halls to the main throne room, pausing in the middle of the room.
She didn't notice the guards hesitating by the door, obviously wanting to give her her space, but refusing to let her be alone given the current situation. Clarius was farther in the room, but even he knew not to touch the queen at the moment.
Aulea's eyes took in the banners, proudly showing off their family crest, and the flowers that were on stands through out the room. She had picked them all out herself, instructed the attendants to get them prepared while they were gone to surprise Regis when they got back. She had thought they'd have something to celebrate.
For a long moment, all she did was stare at them, feeling everything building inside of her chest. He was gone. The kingdom was going to be in chaos, and all she could feel was anger. Anger at the MT's for taking her husband and her kids father, anger that he had surprised her with this trip in the first place, anger that she had left him that morning instead of asking him to come with her.
Screaming, from as deep in her chest as she could muster, she reached for the banners and started to tear them down, knocking over the pillars of flowers to the ground. She kept screaming as she went up to the throne and hit the seat with her hands, falling down to her knees.
Aulea didn't think she stopped screaming for hours, before her voice was all but gone.
Everything was leaving. Gone. Vanishing from in front of her eyes.
And it all started with Regis.
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