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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

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Family Man | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! What? Two fics about me not wanting children in a row? oops 😅

If you like what you read, give me a reblog so other can find it 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @cwbucky @lipstickandbarbedwxre @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat 💜

“I’m a mess,

I don’t know how to impress anyone

And I don’t want us to be just friends.”

Sam and Bucky stared at you with wide eyes. Their casual conversation was interrupted by your fuming form storming into the kitchen with a frustrated huff. They could practically feel the rage radiating from your body, and Bucky could’ve sworn that he heard your teeth cracking under the pressure of your clenched jaw. “…bad date?” Sam finally said with the utmost caution. He knew how deadly you were with a knife and had no doubt that you had one secured to your thigh under your dress- he did not want to get on your bad side. “What makes you say that?” your head snapped in his direction, fury burning behind your eyes.

Bucky cleared his throat, “well, you just opened that bottle of wine with a knife…” Sam chimed in, “and you were gone less than an hour”. You kicked the high heels from your feet, letting them fly towards the cabinets with a distinct thud. What a waste of a Friday night. You’d put on make-up, done your hair, worn shoes that could’ve made your feet bleed- all for some asshole who most definitely wasn’t worth your time. Wine bottle in hand, you slumped into the chair next to Bucky with a dramatic groan. “I hate dating- dating is impossible. The world is a nightmare and I’m moving to Scotland to raise sheep”, a few more gulps of wine traveled down your throat, easing the anger that smoldered in your chest.

Bucky hated seeing you like this. He hated that you couldn’t seem to find someone to treat you right. He cheered you on from the sidelines, encouraging you to put yourself out there and meet people. It killed him inside each time he saw you leave for a date, but seeing you come home upset hurt even worse. After every date, he’d join you in your room and listen to you rehash every awful detail. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you so terribly, especially any man who was lucky enough to go out with you. He helped you stay positive. He wanted you to find someone and be happy- but it crushed him that he couldn’t be that someone. He couldn’t give you the things a normal partner could, he couldn’t give you what he knew you deserved.

Sam leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow at you, inviting you to share the details of your date from hell. With another groan, you told them everything, “Okay, the guy seemed like, relatively cool at first. And then we started talking about life goals, and what we each want for our future…” The wine glass pressed against your lips once more as you tilted it vertically, emptying the cabernet into your mouth. “And when I said that I don’t want kids, he looked at me like I’d just told him I wanna suck Thanos’s dick or something- dude was horrified” you sighed. The wine glass became obsolete as your purple-stained lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle, taking a long pull.

A high-pitched ringing echoed in Bucky’s ears, and he was certain he heard you incorrectly. He retreated into his mind as his thoughts moved at lightspeed, analyzing everything you said- when the feather light touch of your warm hand snapped him back to reality. “Buck, hey. You look catatonic- is everything okay?” He watched your eyes grow soft as anger melted into concern for his well-being. He gave a quick nod and motioned for you to continue, his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.

“So then he looked me dead in the eye and said that I’m a ‘waste of a woman’ simply because I don’t want to have kids…I told him to kiss my ass and got outta there”, you took another sip of wine, wiping a purple drip from the corner of your mouth. Bucky knew you too well. He saw right through the angry, sarcastic mask you wore. It was easier to make jokes and drink most of a bottle of wine than it was to admit that you were vulnerable. And hurt. And lonely.

The conversation continued without Bucky’s participation, Sam’s voice mixing with yours in a dull, muffled sound devoid of all meaning. A strange, unfamiliar feeling spread through Bucky’s body like wildfire. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before; one he didn’t know how to handle- it was hope. But his newfound hope quickly grew tinged with anxiety that made his hands ball into tight fists.

Sam waved a hand in front of Bucky’s face, pulling him out of his subconscious. “You’re being weird”, Sam huffed, “well, weirder than usual. What’s the deal?” Bucky noticed your empty chair ran a hand down his face; he was so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you leave. “If I tell you something, can you keep it to yourself?” Bucky’s voice was low and measured as his enhanced hearing searched for any signs of your return. Sam gave Bucky an eyeroll and scooted his chair as close as he could, “spill your guts, Barnes”.

Sam’s uproarious laughter made Bucky pout. He sat there with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Sam to knock it off. A grumpy scowl pulled his brows together and he swore that Sam had been laughing for at least ten minutes. “I’m sorry, you think-” he tried to catch his breath, “you think that you being in love with her is a secret?” Another fit of laughter left Sam doubled over in his chair as his abs ached. He nudged Bucky’s shoulder and quirked an eyebrow at him, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Okay, anyway, I never told her how I feel because I can’t-” he searched for his words, “I can’t give her the things I thought she wanted. I assumed she wanted the white picket fence in the suburbs with a house full of kids…and that’s just not doable for me”. He raked a hand through his hair, tugging on the loose strands to ground himself. His thoughts moved faster than he could process; everything he thought he knew changed so quickly, and his hope quickly drowned in a sea of doubt. If he tried with you and failed, he’d be crushed. But if he never tried, he could never fail.

“It was easier when I thought things between us were never gonna happen, but now…I mean, if I tell her and fuck everything up, I’ll lose her. And I can’t lose her”. Sam groaned. He slumped over dramatically and banged his head on the kitchen table a few times before slowly sitting back up. “I swear, it’s like you two are the dumbest smart people I know. I mean, the way she looks at you? She obviously has a thing for you”, he took a swig from your almost empty bottle of wine.

“Everyone sees it but you. And it’s pretty damn obvious that she hates when you keep encouraging her to date- she only wants you, man. You two spend all your time together and it’s like you’ve never even had a damn conversation”.

Sam gave Bucky a few pats on the shoulder before grabbing the wine bottle and heading to his room. Alone with his thoughts, Bucky grew anxious. Everything in him screamed at him to run, to protect himself from the soul-sucking pain that would come from you rejecting him. Even if Sam was right and you did, indeed, have feelings for him, it was still possible that you wouldn’t want to be his girl. The seemingly endless stack of Bucky’s issues towered over him, casting a dark shadow over his heart. How could you possibly agree to be in a relationship with someone so damaged, so broken?

The stubborn black smudges under your eyes pissed you off. All you wanted was to take off your make up, put on some comfy clothes, and dissolve into your bed. “Fuck it, good enough”, you muttered, surrendering to the smudges of eyeliner that refused to budge. The worn fabric of your favorite sweatshirt wrapped you in gentle warmth as you fell face first onto your bed. You didn’t think it was possible to hurt this much. The deep ache of your longing for Bucky almost left you breathless. He was your favorite person in the world, and it hadn’t taken much for you to fall for him. His kind heart and warm personality felt like home to you- but it wasn’t always that way.

Getting Bucky to open up to you, to crawl out of the safety of his shell, was hard. He trusted no one, and rightfully so. He was hurt. He was starved of compassion and deprived of all kindness under Hydra. Your gentle gestures and words of encouragement helped Bucky take a few steps out of his comfort zone- steps that lead him to falling deeply in love with you. But you never let yourself believe that he had feelings for you, no matter how much Nat teased you. Getting Bucky to speak to you, to trust you, to feel comfortable alone with you took months; he was like a reclusive stray cat who’d been kicked one too many times.

It hurt you to know that, even if Bucky did have feelings for you, he would never want a relationship. He was still working on a mountain of trust issues and anxiety, and you simply couldn’t see him feeling safe enough to be that vulnerable.

The light, metallic tapping sound of Bucky’s vibranium knuckles against your door filled you with dread. He always checked on you after your dates. He would sit on your bed with you and listen while you vented your frustrations. And every time, his heart ached for you- but he kept up his positive façade. He’d take your face in his hands and tell you to keep your chin up, because “you deserve to be happy, doll”. It was kind and thoughtful, much like everything Bucky did for you, but it always stung- you wanted to be happy with him.

Part of you had hoped Bucky would leave you alone tonight; it was an unfamiliar feeling, not wanting Bucky around. On any given day, you wanted him by your side at all times. But tonight was different. The outrage your date set ablaze in you was snuffed out by your longing for Bucky. It didn’t seem possible for you to sit through another one of his pep talks with a manufactured smile on your face.

The sound of him knocking, however, pulled your lips into a genuine smile. No matter your mood, you couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy when he was around. “Um, come in”, you sat up and watched Bucky sweep through the door with an unusual energy. He was, no doubt, prepared to deliver another rousing speech about why you should keep going on dates. But before Bucky could open his mouth, you stopped him.

“Buck, you have no idea how much it means to me that you want to help me find my person, or whatever, but…I can’t do it anymore. I know you just want me to be happy, and it’s so sweet, but I-” a unique tightening sensation left your lungs unable to fully expand as anxiety gripped you tight. “I won’t be happy with any of these guys. The only person I want to be with is you- I have these feelings for you and they’re…they’re strong. They run deep”, a few tears stained your cheeks as your voice began to shake. “And I know you can’t reciprocate- and that’s fine. I get it. Maybe my feelings will subside one day and I can find someone who makes me feel even a fraction as good as you do. But right now, I can’t take any more dates with anyone who isn’t you.”

Bucky’s mouth hung open. His body burned with a strange combination of nervous energy and unbridled joy that had his hands shaking. In three quick strides, he crossed the room and had his arms around your waist. The warmth of his embrace brought an instant smile to your face, and he didn’t seem to care that your tears dampened his shirt as you rested your face against his chest. The comforting gesture was more than welcome, but only twisted the knife. The safety and comfort of Bucky’s arms felt like home, but it wasn’t- it couldn’t be. Bucky wasn’t yours to call home.

Another wave of heartbroken longing threatened to send fresh tears streaming down your face- until Bucky’s lips met yours. His kiss was deep and hungry as his lips crushed against you, a year’s worth of pent-up need spilling forth all at once. It ended too soon, and Bucky stared down into your eyes with an intensity that made your knees weak. “I can- I do reciprocate those feelings. But I didn’t-“

With a hand pressed against his chest, you put enough space between your bodies to give you room to breathe. “Then why have you been pushing me to date?” you tried to resist the hurt that threatened to creep into your voice, but had little success. “I’ve met so many awful guys, Buck. I just- ya could’ve saved me a lot of trouble…”

Bucky’s hand raked aggressively through his hair, “I thought you wanted something…else. Something that I can’t give you”. He took your hand gently in his, stroking his fingers over your knuckles and avoiding your gaze. “I didn’t know about the whole kids thing. I just- I assumed you wanted a family and I’m not- that’s not something I can do. I’m not passing on my genes or my issues- they need to die with me”.

A sad smile flickered across his face. “I didn’t want to tell you how I felt…I sent you on all those dates because I just wanted you to have a chance at a normal life- a normal life with a normal person who could give you everything you want- everything you deserve…” He brought a hand to your face and let his thumb trace gently over your cheek, “and if I told you and ruined our friendship, I never would’ve forgiven myself. I never want to lose you. I can’t.”

Pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes, you enveloped Bucky’s lips with yours. A long-held sigh left his body as he melted under your touch. The tension in his brow dissipated almost instantly and his tight shoulders fell slack. Nothing in your life had ever felt so right, so natural, as your body pressed against Bucky’s. He kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever see you, desperately committing every second to memory.

“You won’t lose me, ever”, you promised as you pulled away, “I only want you. I’ve only ever wanted you”. He let his forehead rest gently against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as an unstoppable warmth surged through him. “And hey, you don't need to have kids to be a family," you told him, "what would you think about getting a cat?"

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malereader-inserts · 3 years

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Chamber of Reflection

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: Oh dearest Sherlock, are you ready to move on? Word Count: 2,329 Warning: Blood and Death

“I don’t believe in love.”

You scoff out a laughter before turning to look at them, your smile dropped as you looked at them incredulously, “You’re kidding me right?”

“No?” They questioned back as if it was totally obvious because that’s how they were as a person, “I just don’t believe in love.”

“Impossible,” You shake your head, “Everyone believes in love, you, you’re different. You believe you don’t deserve love. That’s a whole different thing.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Same thing.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock,” You folded your arms over your chest, “Your mother loves you, that’s family love. John loves you, that’s platonic love. I love you.”

“What type of love is that?”

“Figure it out, smartass.”

He never really figured it out.

Sherlock was smart, but he’s dumb at the same time.

He could rattle your ear off with different topics that he was interested in. He could give you a rundown about who you are and he probably knew you better than you knew yourself. But, give him a topic on a basic thing - he’ll malfunction.

“The planets? Sherlock, surely you couldn’t have deleted that out your head.”

“You underestimate me, (Y/n).”

“Clearly,” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes, “But, I know you didn’t bring me here to talk about what basic stuff you’ve decided to ignore or have deleted from your so-called hardware.”

“At least you’re able to keep up with me,” Sherlock comments as you give yourself a little nod to the side as acknowledgement.

“Well, what is it?”

“Talk to me more about love, please.”

You narrow your eye at him, tilting your head to the side for a second, you were suspicious of his intention before sighing and tending to his question - after all, it is rare to have Sherlock say please, it’s not an opportunity to pass up.

“How desperate must you be for this information as you did say please.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Alright,” you had your hands up in defence, “Well, love is different to each person and I can’t really help you that much Sherlock because it’s a learning process and it’ll be brutal. In a...somewhat good way.”

“That doesn’t explain anything at all!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “When you love someone, you just kinda know.”

“Right.”

“And...”

“Well, spit it out.”

You give him a soft smile, almost as if you knew something he didn’t know. Like you had to bit your tongue and refuse to tell him. He looks at your eyes, there is a glint of sadness, though he doesn’t comment on it as he allows you to speak.

“Love is going to ruin you someday, it doesn't matter if you don't believe in love, it doesn't matter if you think that you don't have the capacity to love someone, nothing matters. What matter is that one day you will fall in love and fall so hard that it will ruin you to the point that you will not be able to think correctly, to the point that your illness and cure both will be the love of your life, love will ruin you to the point you will look for sanity in insanity.”

“Back again so soon, Sherlock?”

He doesn’t answer you as he stands across from where you had claimed as your spot, you tilt your head in confusion at his silence, Sherlock loves to talk so why isn’t he talking.

“Must be a rough day then, ay Sherlock?” You continue to talk, “I don’t blame you, having a fight with your best friend and then your brother being annoying as ever - Mycroft just doesn’t shut up.”

“How do you know about my day, this is the first time I’ve seen you this week?” Sherlock questions.

You knitted your eyebrows together, your lips pursed together, as you give him room to think before interrupting.

“When will you come to the terms that you’re the one who killed me?”

At that moment, Sherlock stops. If a record of music was playing then it did the scratching halt. Sherlock looks over to your way, he didn’t realise that at some point he had stopped looking at you, you sat there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re not dead.”

“Not in your mind palace, Sherlock,” You say, you look at your surrounding, “In here, I’m very much...alive.”

“You’re not dead,” Sherlock stammers out, blinking frantically, “You’re here, in front of me.”

You dismissed his words, “Funny, each time you come to talk to me, we’re in the same room you killed me in. I have to give you props, though, you really have memorised the room I died.”

“It was your house.”

“Yeah!” You snapped your finger and pointed to him, “You remembered, I’m slightly touched.”

“You can’t be dead.”

“And we’re back to denial,” You hummed, sitting comfortably on the edge of the sink, “Look around you Sherlock, you’re just blocking and deleting things out.”

“No, I am not.”

“Look at the blood, Sherlock.”

Your voice was firm as he shuts his eyes, hoping you had calm down because he could clearly hear anger behind the words you spat. Sherlock opens his eyes and there, he saw the full picture.

You sat on the sink of the kitchen, behind you were the windows and adjacent to your head was cabinets. Both were painted with the splatter of blood. He looked at your appearance, there was red upon your hands and your clothes...

Your clothes, every time he had visited you, you were still in the same clothes - he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to you about it, he knows from you and John that pointing stuff out can be offensive.

Your clothes, they were drenched in blood - your blood.

“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock, look at me.”

Sherlock doesn’t want to, he wants to rearrange the whole scenario and pretend that everything was rainbows and happy, yet he looked at you. He stared deep into your eyes and had to stop himself from gagging at the scene.

There was a bullet hole at your forehead, dried blood seems to drip from the wound when it was fresh.

“Don’t you remember Sherlock?” You asked, looking at him, “You killed, but at what cost?”

“I-”

“I mean, I know why you killed me, after all, I’m just living in your head so I get to know about what you’re thinking and all. But, I really want to hear it from your own mouth.”

Sherlock felt like he was stuck in this nightmare because essentially he was, he couldn’t just snap back into reality or wake up from his sleep. He felt like you had restraints on him and he’s unable to breakthrough.

“I killed you...” He murmurs as you lean forward, “I killed you because I loved you.”

You chuckled, softly, “Love, it makes you do real crazy things.”

See, Sherlock kept you in his head because you were important to him. You were his first and only love, you and Sherlock have known each other since primary school. You had been his only friend, even if he kept pushing you away.

You were the only one who could keep up with his smarts and his weird little thinking, but you were by his side - his first best friend. The man he loved. When the two of you got into high school, you and him were often seen together. You humanised Sherlock, back then he understood what it means to feel.

He was human back then, not this sociopathic man that he grew up to be. Sherlock loved you, just like you loved him. Even if you never really said anything out loud, he knew that you loved him with the way you grabbed him by his wrist and leading him away, it was the soft smile, gentle looks and caring words.

He wished he was able to spend a little longer being your boyfriend because you two managed fess up your feelings when you were eighteen. You were about to go to University, away from Sherlock. He wished he had mustered the courage to ask you to be his boyfriend years before.

“Sherlock, I’m not mad that you killed me.”

Sherlock snapped back into his room with you, you looked at him with the same caring eyes he grew up with, he tilts his head in confusion, he’s missing something in this memory - did he block it out or did he deleted it forever?

“They would have killed me anyway, I don’t have a life further than this Sherlock, both you and I know this,” He listens to your tender voice carefully, you’re no longer angry at him just angry that Sherlock refuses to move on, “You and I did it, Sherlock, you framed the murder perfectly on them.”

Them.

Who was them?

Sherlock looks at you before he hurled himself into the memory.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m quite aware of that Sherlock!”

Sherlock stands by the doorway of the kitchen, it’s messy as you sat on the sink, lifting your shirt to see the wound. You cringed, even Sherlock couldn’t remember what had happened to make you look like this and losing blood rapidly.

“You’re being remarkably calm about this.”

“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen,” You say, pulling your shirt down and you looking at your boyfriend.

“We need to take you to the hospital.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock, if they found out I went there. They’ll kill me!”

“They’ll kill you either way!” Sherlock pressed on, “Please, there must be some other way.”

“You kill me,” You said almost immediately, you looked at him with sharp eyes.

“No, (Y/n), no, are you an idiot?” Sherlock hissed at you, “There is another way, we just have to think about it.”

“We don’t have time to think, Sherlock,” You admitted, “They kill me, they’ll hind the evidence and go live another day, free, do you want that for me?”

“Of course not!” Sherlock was offended that you would suggest that, “I can prove that they kill you, I can do it - you can trust me.”

“I trust you, Sher,” You say, desperate and lovingly, “But, wouldn’t it be better to frame them?”

Sherlock stood there, weighing out the pros and cons in your thinking. Perhaps it was clouded, his judgement as he sees you point out a gun on the kitchen table and reminding him to use a glove so they don’t pick up any of his fingerprints.

What was going through Sherlock’s mind? He wouldn’t be able to tell you, because when he aimed the gun at you there was no thought behind his eyes. You swallowed nervously.

“Hey, Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Just know I love you, and I will never hold it against you.”

“I know.”

“Sherlock?” He looks back at you, “Oh, good, you’re responsive.”

“I never said I love you.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you laughed, he pretends that it didn’t slightly hurt him, “You think I didn’t know?”

Sherlock looked down then back up at you, you were back in clean clothes and the surrounding of your kitchen was clean. Though, you didn’t look phased.

“I mean-”

You raised an eyebrow, “You did at least frame them right? My parents?”

Sherlock knitted his eyebrows, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock looks at you, watches you breathe in and out, there was a clear disappointment and you had stopped intensely watching him. You turn to look back at him, he was surprised to see you smile at him as you clapped your hand.

“Well, I’m not going to shy away from saying that I am disappointed, perhaps that’s why you blocked out the memory,” You spoke, crossing your arms.

“I can fix it!”

“Can you?”

“I made a name for myself, (Y/n), Mycroft can help me as well as Craig-”

“Greg-”

“Whatever, and we can finally bring you justice, maybe you could be at peace.”

“It’s not me that I’m concern for peace, Sherlock, you’re the one who keeps me alive in your mind palace,” You admitted as you lay down the reality of Sherlock, “It’s time to let me go. The question is: Are you ready?”

Mycroft comes knocking at the door, he was greeted by John.

“Sherlock is busy,” John says from his armchair as Mycroft enters without a proper invite.

Mycroft looks around the room before stopping at the bookshelves, a picture frame that was permanently situated as face down was now standing, showing the picture that was kept hidden from the world.

Mycroft makes his way towards it as John looks at him.

“Sherlock put it up yesterday, along with a new case.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Mycroft leered, softly smiling to himself, “What’s the case about?”

“The murder of (Y/n) (L/n), Sherlock is convinced that it wasn’t suicide, though I don’t know how he knows about the case, that was closed over a decade ago - at least that’s was Lestrade said.”

“Watson, do you know who is standing next to Sherlock in this picture?”

John looked at the picture, he could recognise Sherlock when he was younger. he still had the curls and bright blue eyes, standing straight up, next to him was a boy smiling and had his arm over the sociopath’s shoulder - though back then, you could hardly call Sherlock a sociopath.

“No?”

“That is (Y/n) (L/n),” Mycroft says as John’s eyebrow raised up, “He is the reason why Sherlock snapped and changed in his behaviour. His death caused Sherlock to lose his pathway.”

“He means a lot to Sherlock?”

“Well, he is the only person Sherlock truly love romantically. Perhaps the first and love of Sherlock.”

“Sherlock loved him?”

“He still does, it’s why he’s reopening this case because dear Watson, between us two and Sherlock. This is not a case to solve a murder, this is to frame someone of murder and we’re going to help him.”

#sherlock BBC #sherlock imagine #sherlock bbc imagine #sherlock holmes x male reader #x male reader #personal favourite

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ezdotjpg · 2 years

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Hello. It’s Frankie (aka: wutheringmights). I know I’m on anon, but please trust it’s me. I would love to see your loz playlist. Lyrics included if you’d like :)

@wutheringmights wouldn’t ya know i just spent like an hour and a half typing up a post for this before I even saw this ask. so, thanks for giving me an excuse!

I guess this is technically my Bonus Links playlist, though some songs apply outside the au too. It's relatively small now and doesn't have specific songs for everyone yet. also I listen to like 4 artists consistently so there's repeats sorry lol

General

Can’t We Just Leave The Monster Alive? by TOMORROW X TOGETHER

(translated from Korean via colorcodedlyrics)

Can’t we just leave the monster alive? You become the hero And I’ll become the monster We’ve become each other

Don’t Leave Me by BTS

(translated from Japanese via colorcodedlyrics)

In seconds, everything goes to the past I understood the meaning of living in the present Because I met you

Don’t leave me I believe, I start running No ending, you are my heartbeat Even if I’m struck by rain Even if I’m erased by darkness I will definitely save you You are not alone

Worship You by Vampire Weekend

We worshipped you Your red right hand Won’t we see you once again? In foreign soil, in foreign land Who will guide us through the end?

Loft

Everlasting Arms by Vampire Weekend

I thought it over and drew the curtains Leave me to myself, leave me to myself I hummed the Dies Irae as you played the Hallelujah Lead me to my cell, lead me to my cell If you’d been made to serve a master you’d be frightened by the open hand Frightened by the hand Could I have been made to serve a master? Well, I’m never gonna understand

Eternally by TOMORROW X TOGETHER (listening to this one is the only way to truly feel why this is on his playlist lol)

(Translated from Korean via colorcodedlyrics)

I want to end this world When I open my eyes, that night That day when it rained flames That dance that called for a nightmare That rhythm that won’t stop This darkness that swallowed a scream This distance between you and me is growing bigger

Interlude: Set me free by Agust D

(Translated from Korean via doolsetbangtan)

Set me free, knowing it won’t go the way that I want Set me free, knowing that’s not what I want Set me free, I’m floating freely in the void Set me free, these days I feel melancholy for no obvious reason One day, I crawl on the floor On another day, I fly high in the sky

Angry Too by Lola Blanc

Does it get your blood boiling? Does it make you see red? Do you want to destroy it? Does it get in your head? 'Cause it gets my blood boiling, and I’m coming unglued It would eat you like poison if you knew what I knew You would be angry too

Hurry, Hurry by Air Traffic Controller

Who am I? Am I still the same guy? Or have I lost something, as I keep bumping Mind and health, every bit of myself I ignore the signs as I’m running out of time

Painkillers by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Winnings for the lucky Living just takes Painkillers Living just comes with a bit of heartache Heartache comes with a bit of young faith Faith stays young till your heart get broken Hope grows up to become someday I never hurt no one and no one will ever hurt me I believe I believe I believe I believe

Slate

Boy Lilikoi by Jonsi

I want to be a lilikoi, Boy Lilikoi You grind your claws, you howl, you growl, unafraid of Hoi Polloi You run, you're free, you climb endless trees, you reignite You growl, you howl, you show your teeth You bite, it's all right

I Saw the Dead by Villagers

Let me show you the back room Where I saw the dead Dancing like children On a midsummer morn And they asked me to join They asked me to join But my body was stubborn Wouldn't let me give in So I offered a good deed In return for a sin

TALES OF DOMINICA by Lil Nas X

I've been living in my lowest, it's safe to say Hope my little bit of hope don't fade away I've been living on an island made from fate Can't go running back to home, I can't face her face

Don’t by eAeon ft RM

(Translated from Korean via colorcodedlyrics)

What color are waves White as snow when they break Did you survive the drift okay Still as a pebble, could you stay In my small chimney, could you stay Don’t take away the name only you know Useless magic Detestable wildflowers Stop, this isn’t like you

Mask

Jamais Vu by BTS

(translated from Korean via doolsetbangtan)

Please give me a remedy A remedy that will make my stopped heart beat again What should I do now Please save me, please give me another chance Please give me a remedy, a melody The memory that will remain only in me If I stop it at this point If I turn it off, will everything be at ease?

War

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons (couldn't resist adding this one lol)

Weep for yourself, my man You'll never be what is in your heart Weep, little lion man You're not as brave as you were at the start Rate yourself and rake yourself Take all the courage you have left And waste it on fixing all the problems That you made in your own head

Mage

Singularity by BTS (pretty much only for these exact lines lol)

(Translated from Korean via genius)

Tell me if my voice isn’t real If I shouldn’t have thrown myself away Tell me if even this pain isn’t real What was I supposed to do back then?

#i am cringe but i am free #bonuslinks #bonus links #quick before my laptop dies #ask #playlists #bonus loft #bonus slate #bonus mask #bonus war #bonus mage

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

aquarium ii | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader; ex-jungkook x reader

summary: Life after Jeon Jungkook was grey. You had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. But what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in Kim Taehyung’s hand.

warnings: reader discretion is advised: a (half-hearted) suicide attempt; mentions of cheating in previous relationship; language; heavy angst; fluffiest fluff; non-idol!AU; kind garden-loving landlord!Taehyung x reader; ft. sadboi!Jungkook

–

part i

now playing – without me by halsey ft. JUICE WRLD

tell me, how's it feel sittin' up there? feelin’ so high, but too far away to hold me

You couldn’t remember that night very well, because you didn’t come up.

The worst part about being cheated on was not the actual cheating. It was the moment where you thought you had done something wrong, like somehow it was your fault it happened, like if you hadn’t done this or that, maybe things would have been different. Maybe if you hadn’t chosen that night to snoop into Jeon Jungkook’s phone, he would have had second thoughts, deleted it all, and loved you again. Maybe if you were a little kinder, a little more attentive, he wouldn’t have fallen out of love with you. Maybe... Maybe.

Maybe.

You knew that was just your brain trying to rationalize his irrationality. You had done wrong by invading his privacy by acting on sheer gut feeling. And you had run away, without confronting it, without giving him a chance, because you knew, you knew that if you gave him a chance, you would believe all his words, get dragged back into his sea, back into those dangerous waters.

All these thoughts coursed through you as the water closed in.

The milky bathwater was slowly replacing your depleting air, leaking into your lungs and you didn’t fight it, turning the darkness of the underside of your eyelids into light, because deep down you still loved him, no matter how stupid or foolish it was. Your heart still clung to his soft, I’m sorry, and you didn’t want to hear it anymore.

You didn’t want to know what loving Jeon Jungkook was like anymore. It was too painful.

you know i'm the one who put you up there name in the sky, does it ever get lonely?

You gave everything so he could be what he wanted to be, not knowing that you were the one slowly being eroded. No one could tell you. You were the one who had to find the signs. You were the one who found yourself trapped in glass walls, stuck in an aquarium, surrounded on all sides by Jeon Jungkook as he made a mockery of your feelings.

You screamed into the water and no one heard you.

The next memory you had was hazy, barely there.

You felt a tightness in your chest, harsh, solid pressure. A frustrated, agonized voice above you, desperately calling your name in deep baritone, desperately asking you to come back, praying in every language he knew for you to come back, come back, please, please, please.

“Please…”

In the whiteness, you wandered. Were you meant to be here? It was a loose fog. You looked around, seeing traces of memory like torn book pages, slipping through the haze. You reached out to touch them and they disappeared, only mirages.

And then you fell, dragged into dark blue, torn, battered, lungs burning as you struggled to stay afloat, coughing hard, your muscles screaming with asphyxiation, sudden oxygen flooding your brain. You whipped your head to the side, hacking up water, spilling it all over the green tiles of the bathroom floor, head pounding. Thoughts swimming, barely computing the shouting above you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” one voice growled above your jerking body, so venomous that it made your blood run cold. “You absolute disaster of a man, thinking for one fucking second she would even consider taking you back. Look at her! She’d rather drown herself in my damn bathtub than hold a conversation with you!”

“What the fuck do you know?” The familiar voice, the voice that haunted you in your nightmares, the voice that fed you sweet poison. “She would do anything for me! She worships the fucking ground I walk on!”

You curled up into a ball, head pounding by the sudden explosion of light and sound. There was a towel over you, covering your wet naked body, and yet you shivered. You barely registered Kim Taehyung snarling, rising to his feet.

“You narcissistic bastard,” Taehyung spat out. “Get the fuck out of my house. Get the fuck out and don’t ever come near her again or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

“You can’t do anything to me. You’re a nobody,” Jeon Jungkook taunted. “Unlike you, I actually have money to sue you for assault.”

Apparently, Taehyung did not give a single shit, because he immediately roared and launched himself past you, the brown ball slamming into the black wall. You blinked, trying to register what was happening, but it was too much for you and your brain that was slowly trying to restore function due to lack of oxygen. They tumbled down the stairs and you laid your head against the floor, hearing the grunts and shouting, wondering why Taehyung had come back.

Wondering how he knew.

You closed your eyes.

In your dreams, you saw the soft sunlight glowing against Taehyung’s tan skin as he reached down to retrieve a dark green cucumber to show you. It was a bit wonky and hadn’t grown quite right, but you watched Taehyung tap it and smile to himself.

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like on the outside,” he said cheerfully. “I know it will still taste delicious because I gave it love.”

You tried to go back to work, but it was awful.

You loved your work. Perhaps it was boring to others, accounting all day, but it was mundane and peaceful, always knowing what you had to do. You never had to question the numbers. The numbers were what they were and that was that.

But now when you stared out into the grey urban jungle, it pained you.

What once was your safe haven turned into your cage, chaining you to clock in, clock out. You would go home to a motel nearby, crying into unfamiliar, starched sheets, pitying housekeepers preparing your meals, asking you what was wrong and you couldn’t tell them.

Because you didn’t know.

i'm sad inside, but i know it's for the best, right? you had to realize where you drew the line

You didn’t check his social media. You didn’t check his Twitch, his Instagram, his Twitter. You got a new phone, only giving your new number to your work and your parents. With a start, you realized you hadn’t contacted your old high school friends in years. You had lost them all, committing social suicide for Jeon Jungkook. In fact, you had no social media presence, so there was no need to download those apps.

There was nothing on your old phone that you wanted. It sat in the storage unit, forgotten. You didn’t want to turn on your old phone to see the photos, the lock screen of his arms around you, smile on his face from two years ago.

A smile you didn’t even know was real or fake.

i still hate it when you’re not there

You tried to tell yourself you were fine, because moping over Jeon Jungkook was stupid. But you had invested so much. You had given him everything. It was hard to regrow. You were stuffed in this tiny motel room, staring out to the hazy, polluted city, yellow sunlight fighting to be seen.

You sat by the window, clutching your pink flats, remembering Taehyung’s last words to you before you left.

“I looked up the brand and bought you some new ones,” he had said sheepishly. “I felt bad that they got so ruined, all because I asked you to help me with the garden.” He gave you that big, boxy smile. “Just think of them as a parting gift for being such a great tenant.”

You inhaled a deep breath, placing the pale pink flats next to the exact same style but grass-stained, greyed-out, worn ones. You stared at them both.

And made a choice.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

You lifted your head. The scent of flowers, so familiar and comforting, wafted around you, a reassuring embrace. You were wearing a long-sleeved white dress, a brown ribbon around the collar. The pink flats, the ones the owner of the deep baritone voice had gifted you.

That was nearly six months ago now. You had since thrown away the other ones.

Kim Taehyung walked up to you. He was wearing brown overalls and a cream shirt, elbows smeared with dirt. His skin had lightened due to the passing winter, but it was spring now. The flower shop was very busy, but there were other employees, and Taehyung was fixated on you.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Taehyung said quietly, his brown eyes shimmering. “I would have come here a lot more often if I knew.”

You bit you lip and bowed your head politely, smiling at him. Taehyung coughed and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his dark brown hair. It was longer and curlier now, desperately needing a trim.

“I… I came to get carnations. The shop I normally go to ran out.”

You nodded, leading him wordlessly to the red and pink carnations. There was still a good number left, but you had to pick through carefully to find the most beautiful ones for him. He watched you work, chewing on his lip. You held up the large bouquet to him.

“What do you think?” you asked softly.

He smiled at you. “Perfect.” He didn’t ask the price. “Could you make two corsages out of a few of them?”

“Of course. Right this way.”

You brought him to one of the counters, selecting a few blooms to make the corsages. You showed him the available ribbons and he picked a thin, sheer white one. He watched you work, quickly, but delicately, careful not to bruise the petals.

“You became an expert about flowers,” he remarked. “I’m still struggling.”

You smiled. “I’m still learning. It’s very different from what I used to do.” You twisted the ribbon into a perfect bow, using floral wire to secure it.

“You don’t talk to him anymore, do you?”

You shook your head. “Haven’t seen him since that day you threw him down your stairs.”

Taehyung laughed a little too loud, making the patrons stare at him. He coughed nervously, cramming the crumpled brown hat under his arm onto his head. You placed your hand over your lips, trying to hide your chuckle. Your fingertips smelled like phloem sap from the cut stems, sweet and grassy.

Taehyung gazed at you, surrounded by flowers, carnations laid out on the counter.

“Will you… let me take a picture of you?”

You blinked at him, lips parting.

Taehyung reached into his pocket, pulling out an old 35mm film camera. He looked sheepish as he held it up, hesitating.

“Sorry, I just… you look so beautiful, and I don’t want to forget that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I know it’s a weird habit. But I like to take pictures and I never took one of you.” He looked deep into your eyes.

“I really regret not taking a picture of you.”

Your fingers were still over your mouth. You nodded.

Taehyung held the camera up and snapped a photo.

“He waits for you to get off work every day. It’s been a week now.”

The manager was teasing you, nudging your arm as you tugged on your long camel coat. You smiled at her, an old woman with knowing eyes that had seen and enjoyed a lot of life. Taehyung waved across the street as you made eye contact with him.

“There aren’t men like him anymore, you know,” she said gently. “These kinds of things happened in my generation, but now young people send pictures of flowers instead of the real thing.”

When you thanked the manager and walked out to Taehyung, he held out a small bundle of tiny flowers to you. White cosmos. You stopped, surprised. Breathless as you looked up at him. He was illuminated by a streetlight and the dying sun, the golden hour matching his golden skin. Holding out the white cosmos, shivering in the spring breeze.

“They’re not that pretty,” he said guiltily, stepping up to you. “I’ve been trying to grow flowers for months now and these are the only ones that survived, ahahaha…”

He scratched his head, brushing his hair back.

“I always hoped that if I saw you again, I could show you that I was able to finally grow flowers.” Taehyung laughed, shrugging apologetically. “This is all I got.”

You reached out and took the small bundle from him. They were a bit curled and slightly wilted from being carried around but you smiled at them.

“No one has ever grown flowers for me,” you said quietly.

The tiny yellow centers of each flower were surrounded by white. You counted seven. Taehyung had given you seven flowers. Seven flowers he grew on his own, because he wanted to show you. You placed your fingers on your mouth, the scent of the floral shop returning to you with the action. Your chest felt tight and full, a feeling unlike any other.

“I wanted to grow at least eight,” Taehyung lamented. “Because that would be luckier, but…”

You shook your head quickly, looking up at him. Him and his beautiful brown eyes, a small patch of dirt underneath his cheek. He probably didn’t even know it was there.

“No.”

You removed your hand from your lips and smiled at him.

“Seven is perfect.”

You threw your hands around him and hugged him tightly.

When Jeon Jungkook saw you again, everything was different.

He was distracting himself from school. University was much harder than he thought, especially since he didn’t attend right after high school to pursue his streaming career.

For a long time, he had someone to take care of him, first his mom and then you. Someone to do everything so he could recklessly chase his dreams. But things were different now. He had to suddenly become an adult. It wasn’t because of you. You hadn’t told anyone what happened.

But everyone knew.

One girl had let it slip, and then another and another, and then screenshots were plastered everywhere, all over the internet for anyone to see, not knowing the context, tossing judgements left and right. His parents found out and then his friends, everyone disappointed in him, not surprised that you vanished without a trace. He had to vanish too, every sponsor cutting ties with him immediately, not asking if it was true or not. It was bad for business to be associated with something like that.

Jungkook really regretted it now, but there was nothing he could do to take it back.

That’s why he was sitting in this tiny, one room apartment, using what was leftover from his streaming money to get a degree, saving every penny to his education. At least he hadn’t been so reckless to overspend. You hadn’t let him, always reminding him to save for his future, using your own income to pay for the necessities.

Even now, you were helping him.

Every once in a while, Jungkook would type variations of your old Instagram username into the search bar, wondering if you had ever set it up again. He had asked you to delete it, since you had been getting constant DMs from guys asking you out, sending you unsolicited dick pics. You had agreed, even through you could have fought him or simply privated it.

You had deleted it, Jungkook knew now, because he asked you and you loved him.

It hurt to know that you loved him so dearly and he was too busy feeding his own ego to see it.

When Jungkook saw you again, you were surrounded by flowers.

Your profile picture was a close up shot of your beautiful face, golden sun against your skin, a white cosmos tucked behind your ear. He knew it was you. He could tell by the shape of your lips, the contours of your eyes, even through your eyes were closed. Wearing a white dress, the ruffles fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook was breathless, seeing you again. He scrolled through your pictures. They were mostly of flowers, with captions of how to grow them. Were you a florist now? Some of them were of you in different dresses, surrounded by blue sky and green summer. The smile on your face was so dazzling that he wondered who gave you that smile.

His heart wrenched uncomfortably in his chest.

Or maybe it wasn’t a someone.

There was a time when that smile was his. There was a time when he could make you smile like that, your lips saying his name breathlessly – “Jungkook, Jungkook, look at this!” – showing him something silly or giving him his favorite banana milk with special edition packaging, saying how cute it was, just like him.

He blinked and a droplet fell onto his phone.

Right on your smiling face, hand holding a large straw hat, your pink dress fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook wiped it away, swiping at his tears with the sleeve of his black sweatshirt, wondering why had he taken that smile for granted, why he had drifted away from the safe coast, why he had thought, even for a second, that the days and nights you spent cleaning after him meant that you were keeping yourself busy and away from him, not seeing it for what it was, not seeing that it was your love for him and his own sloppiness that left him here now, staring at your summer as his summer was torn from him by textbooks and lectures.

He shuddered, still looking at the pictures, not wanting to miss a moment, even if they weren’t his moments anymore.

One of your pictures was a bundle of seven white cosmos, a little wilted and sad-looking.

Jungkook read the caption.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you’re beautiful. Because there is someone out there who thinks you are. They use every resource they know to give you love, even if it’s clumsy at first. Even if you don’t think you need it or want it.

The tears were really coming now, streaming down his cheeks as Jungkook asked himself why, why did he give this up?

They celebrate you and your love instead of simply tolerating it.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the side.

Your pink flats were right beside you, and your arms were resting on the wooden fence. The ocean breeze was strong here, salty and cold. But you didn’t feel the cold, because Kim Taehyung had wrapped a thick wool blanket around you two. It was already night, but by the seaside it was still chilly, even in the summer, due to the sea breeze.

He peeled the foil back on a roasted sweet yam, taking off some of the skin so you could bite into it. You tried to take it from him but he shook his head, frowning at you. You laughed and took a bite, scalding your mouth from how hot it was. But it still tasted good.

“I asked my parents if I could have it.”

You looked up at him, trying to blow the steaming air from your mouth in attempt to cool off.

“The cottage?”

Taehyung nodded, taking a bite and wincing. “You’ll never guess what they said.”

You smiled. “What did they say?”

He scowled. “Then pay rent!” He waved a hand to the seaside house behind you two. “They own it! Why do I have to pay rent? I’m their son!”

You giggled, hiding your mouth behind you hand. Taehyung angrily bit into the sweet yam again and choked, forgetting how hot it was. Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter, falling back onto the grass, wool softening your fall. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you, shaking the yam furiously. The white moonlight glinted off the silver foil. He puffed his cheeks and sighed as your laughter faded out.

You looked up at the stars, realizing how clear the sky was here.

It was nothing like the city.

Even in darkness, the white stars shone against the black, bright and clear. You wouldn’t have seen them if you weren’t here, on your back and looking up at them.

“Anyway, they only said it was a hundred won, so I guess that’s fine,” Taehyung grumbled. “Really made me worried there for a second, sheesh.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You going to live here?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“No, you are.”

You blinked, taken aback. He rewrapped the yam, determining it was too hot to eat right now. He gazed down at you, smiling a little.

“It’s better than that one room you have in that house. Safer too.”

You chewed on your lip. “But I can’t pay the amount I paid when I rented it…”

Taehyung poked you with the yam. “Weren’t you listening? The rent is a hundred won. No, two hundred for you, since I have to make some profit.”

He laid down next to you, eye to eye now, smile getting bigger.

“Although I hear there’s this annoying gardener that comes around every day caring for the plants.”

You were smiling now too, drawn by his cheeky, boxy grin.

“Really? I think he’s pretty cute. I think that’s how he gets away with it.”

His brown eyes locked with yours.

“Will you let me care for you too?”

The sound of the sea, crashing into the rockface, constructing a new memory for you.

“I know you’ll be much harder than a plant,” Taehyung murmured quietly. “Sorry, that’s a dumb thing to say, I meant–”

You pressed your lips against his, cold air chilling your cheeks, warmth spreading throughout your soul.

When you pulled away, breathless, Taehyung was staring at you, eyes wide. Those three words came to you, words that you thought you were never going to say again, words you had for someone else, but you knew this was the right one, the perfect flower.

The one who struggled to grow seven flowers.

White cosmos.

Just for you.

“I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

The next summer.

Seven flowers. White cosmos, bright, glowing, perfectly shaped. Surrounding your left hand. The ring finger held a princess-cut diamond surrounded by six tiny small ones like petals.

The caption.

He grew them perfectly this time.

Jeon Jungkook sighed heavily, placing his phone back in his pocket. The noise around him was loud, clattering and chattering, now a familiar atmosphere. The black bucket hat was low over his eyes, shrouding them. He pulled his face mask higher, hiding his features, not wanting to be recognized. Internet shame was enough; he didn’t need public shame as well. He already had to switch universities because of it.

Jungkook placed his hand back onto the subway rail, shouldering his backpack, staring out the train window at the black tunnel.

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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fullbushfemme · 3 years

Text

Meeting the Mayans

word count: 1,804

summary: You thought you were prepared for anything. Growing up with four brothers, you had been bitten, beaten, thrown out of trees, concussed, stabbed, practically any violent act you could possibly think of, you had endured. For a kindergarten teacher, you were tough. You had the scars to prove it. That was, of course, until the day you met the Mayans.

unnamed mayan x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, hostage situation, and a shooting.

author's note: I've had this idea in my head for ages now and I'm tempted to make it a series. The only issue is that I can't decide which Mayan I want to star (since they aren't named in this fic). I'm tempted to use this as a jumping off point for multiple fics, writing different stories from this initial incident involving different Mayans, but I'd love to hear any thoughts y'all might have :)

-I also haven't written anything outside of academic works in years so go easy on me <3

Santo Padre Septembers were always your favorite. It was sticky and hot, enough to make anyone want to jump into a pool fully clothed, but school was back in session, which meant you got to meet a new hoard of bright-eyed, eager five year olds. You had spent the last month preparing your classroom for their arrival. Nine am to one pm every day for four weeks was dedicated to decorating your classroom, making name cards, making sure every student had all the supplies they needed. Inside every desk you placed glue and markers and pencils and workbooks and scissors...everything a little kid would need to express themselves. And all of it out of your own pocket. You took it upon yourself to spoil these kids rotten.

Two weeks into class, you already knew everyone’s names, their favorite color, their pets, and whether or not they were allowed to watch TV after six o’clock. You knew who was friends with who, who couldn’t eat peanut butter, and who was most popular. This year’s class was going to be great, you just knew it.

It was a humid Friday afternoon. The room smelled like Elmer’s glue and pencil shavings, with stray scraps of construction paper strewn about the floor after the kids decided this week’s art project was going to be making dinosaurs out of construction paper and glitter. You were staying after class to clean up and vacuum, and to take the class rabbit home with you since no one had signed up to care for him this week, when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked over to the open door, squinting into the sun, trying to make out who it was. But no one was standing in the doorway. “Forget something?” you called out, thinking that a student must’ve left a lunch box or notebook and was feeling shy.

“Not exactly,” a deep voice responded, sending a twinge of fear through your body. You knew that voice. “I was hoping my baby sister could help me with something.”

A lump had formed in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no avail. “What are you doing here?” you choked out, standing from where you were picking up paper scraps.

“I need you to help me hide. Quickly.” Your older brother stepped into the classroom, gun in hand, pupils wider than you had ever seen them. He must’ve been high, you thought, panicked. What had he gotten into now? All four of your brothers were known to be trouble-makers to varying degrees. A few had been to prison for petty crimes, but the brother that stood before you had gotten wrapped up in drug trafficking years ago. He scared you the most. They had all promised your parents that they would keep their lives separate from yours, that they would never put you in harm's way. But it didn’t last. It felt like every other week you had a bruised or beaten brother on your doorstep, begging for help or a place to stay. And today, it was to ask you to hide them.

Your eyes flitted to the large windows overlooking the grassy courtyard where a few children sat waiting for their parents to pick them up. Hide. Hide from what? Who was coming after him? Would they hurt the kids?

“N-no,” you stammered, taking a step backwards. You couldn’t risk putting any kids still on campus in danger. “You can’t hide here. You have to go. You have to go right now.” You could feel a pit in your stomach begin to form as your brother took slow, long strides toward you.

“No?” he spat, completely dumbfounded by your refusal to help him. You had never turned him down before. He was family. You never said no to family.

You swallowed hard before repeating yourself. “No,” you responded, with more conviction this time, although you knew he could see right through you.

You took another step back, but ran up against your desk. Your phone was in the top drawer. Could you reach it fast enough? If you even could, who would you call? The police? That was a good way to get murdered and leave a teacher-shaped stain on the floor for the kids to come back to on Monday. Gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white, your brother broke the ominous silence before you could.

“I’m not asking you again, hun,” he spat, now so close you could smell him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes welling up. “The kids…”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, shocked at the idea that you could actually turn your own flesh and blood away. You had always helped him, no matter how many times your parents told you not to, no matter how many times your life was put in danger. He couldn’t grasp the idea that you would put your foot down when it came to endangering other people, when it came to endangering your kids.

“They’ll kill you, you know,” he seethed, looking back over his shoulder towards the open door. There was a low rumbling growing louder and louder, but that wasn’t to whom he was referring. He was talking about your other brothers. “I told them I’d go to my baby sister, that she’d help me. She always helps me. Why would she flip on me now? Why wouldn’t she help family?” His grip tightened around his handgun as he leaned in to threaten you. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know to come to you first. They’ll know you couldn’t protect your own family.” His breath was hot against your neck. “Now,” he sighed, “Help me hide. And tell them you haven’t seen me in months.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” a man shouted from outside, causing your brother to grab hold of your arm. Those tears you had been holding back finally fell down your cheeks as your brother pulled you in front of him, placing you between the stranger and your brother. You could barely make out any details of the man from outside because of the blinding sun, but you could tell he had a gun. And that gun was much bigger than your brother’s. As the man moved into your classroom, at least five more men appeared and followed him in, all with guns pointed at your brother.

At this point, you were frozen. The lives your parents had so desperately tried to keep apart were crashing together, their worst nightmare coming true. The two of you were stuck, with only one way out. And he knew it. He gripped your arm tighter, making sure your body could be used as an effective human shield. The barrel of his gun was shoved into your ribcage, his face buried into the back of your hair.

“See what you’ve done?” he seethed. You looked at all of the men placed around the room. Leather-clad men on top of a backdrop of crudely painted rainbows and dogs. You hadn’t brought these men here. You didn’t anger a group of gun-toting men. And yet somehow, this was your fault.

“We’re only here for you, kid,” a low, rough voice called out, a different one than before.

But he wouldn’t let them take only him. He was bringing you down with him. He was willing to sacrifice his own family to keep from going down alone.

The seconds ticking by felt like hours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, desperately trying to break free. But you could do nothing besides stand still. All you could do is hope and pray that these men that had followed your brother here had enough decency not to kill a kindergarten teacher caught in the crossfire. But your brother refused to give them that opportunity.

“If I go,” he yelled, raising his gun to your temple, “she goes too.”

These words would haunt your every thought for the rest of your life. But in that moment, all you could think about was the weapon pressed against your skin. Your brother wasn’t just willing to bring you down with him, he was willing to kill you himself. And the thought of it made you sick. It made you want to curl up into a ball and scream on the top of your lungs. You opened your mouth to cry out, but your brother hit you across the head with the butt of his gun before you could.

The men opposing your brother yelled, harsh words were exchanged, but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears. Tensions rose. Guns were raised. Blood dripped down your face and mixed with your tears. Your senses were betraying you, one by one, blending every sensation into one incomprehensible nightmare.

And then, a single gunshot rang out, making you acutely aware of the severity of the situation once more.

A scream escaped your chest as you fell to your knees, free from your brother’s death grip. You brought your hands up to your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would all be over.

But it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t end. No matter how hard you prayed, you were still on the floor of your kindergarten classroom. Your brother was still prepared to kill you if he felt threatened. Someone was shot...someone was shot but you couldn’t bear to look. You wanted to look, you had to look, to see if it was your brother that was shot. But before you could muster the courage to open your eyes, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an embrace. It couldn’t have been your brother, it was much too gentle. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

It took a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you looked up to see who was holding you. His face was kind, with dark brown eyes filled with worry as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something to you, and he probably did, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your head. He was a stranger to you, and yet he clung to you to keep you from seeing the mess behind you. Like he truly cared for your wellbeing. He pulled you in closer to him, placing his chin on top of your head the way your father did when you were young. It felt...safe. And all you wanted to do was collapse into him and allow yourself to feel safe. You let your head fall into his chest. You let your head fall into this stranger’s chest. And just as you did, two white patches on his left breast caught your eye. Two patches that read: Mayans, Santo Padre.

#mayans mc #bishop losa #michal ariza #riz ariza #taza #taza romero #angel reyes #ez reyes #mayans mc fanfic

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Ready As I’ll Ever Be

It’s late, here you go! Thanks to @becca-becky for the support and Remus jokes! I just needed some more happy Sides, and it kind of turned into hurt/comfort at the end, but I still like it! This fic is on Ao3 here!

Warnings: spoilers for the new ep!! And some nsfw-gore jokes typical of Remus.

Summary: After Roman and Virgil retreat to the common room to gush about Thomas’ new date, they have to confront both the other Sides and their growing worry. Because maybe they’re not ready for this, after all.

Words: 5596

It was quiet in the Mindscape when Roman and Virgil appeared. But not for long.

“--and maybe we should get him flowers, red ones, bring them to the first date--”

“We haven’t gotten a date yet,” Virgil reminded Roman, flopping onto the couch and pulling a pillow to his chest. “Well, a date for the date.”

Roman perched on the top of the couch and pouted. “He said he wanted to!”

“He said he wanted to,” Virgil agreed, his mouth twitching in a smile once again.

“So it’s as good as given!” Roman beamed, waving his hands in circles. “Besides, flowers don’t have to wait for a date!”

“What do you suggest,” Virgil asked, “toss them in his mailbox?”

Roman drew himself up. “Yes!”

“We don’t know where he lives!”

“We could find out!”

Virgil smirked. “Creepy.”

“Romantic!” Roman placed a hand on his chest in affronted indignation, but his smile was still wide. “You just don’t understand love. We place the roses--roses? Roses--the roses in his mailbox, along with a note of our undying affection--”

Virgil huffed and started tugging at the edge of the pillow to work out the bubbly energy in his hands. “Undying affection?”

“Yes! He has agreed to a date, and therefore we must woo him!”

“Sure.” Virgil tossed the pillow at Roman’s face. Roman batted it away with ease. “Look, Princey, I know glass houses and all, but you need to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” Roman screeched. “Perfectly relaxed!”

“Sure,” Virgil said again, grabbing another pillow and worrying it between his hands. Roman was rocking back and forth on the couch now, kicking his legs out, muttering something about “learning the language of flowers so he can convey the message that they are soulmates, bound by destiny.”

“Relax,” Virgil said again, his voice going softer than he intended. “He’ll like us anyway--actually, he’ll probably like Thomas more if he doesn’t send him flowers like a stalker.”

Roman threw back his head and glared at Virgil with no real anger. Virgil scrunched up his nose.

“I want to woo him,” Roman complained, crossing his arms petulantly and balancing even more precariously on the top of the couch.

“You don’t have to,” Virgil said.

“I want to!” Roman waved a hand in a complex motion. “Why would he buy what we’re selling if we don’t woo him? Where’s the fun? Why would he--if we’re not trying to impress him, what if he--”

“Hey.” Virgil sat up and gave Roman a little smile. “He’s--it’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Roman laughed. “You’re telling me--”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Virgil threw another pillow at Roman and realized he’d run out of pillows to fidget with. He settled for shifting his weight back and forth and shaking his fists.

“He’ll like us anyway,” Roman said, and Virgil hadn’t heard him sound like this ever since--ever since their ex wasn’t their ex. Soft and fragile and delicate and so...loving. “He likes us.”

“He likes us,” Virgil repeated, a smile spreading over his own face, unbidden. He’d never felt like this ever since their ex. Bubbly and shaky and popping at the edges like fireworks. Sparkles and rainbows and all sorts of stuff that was seriously not his brand. This shouldn’t be safe, this should be setting off every alarm he had, throwing him into panic.

Instead he was just smiling. Smiling like he’d never done anything else. Hands flapping and knees hitting each other and breathless in the best possible way.

Not love, of course. Not yet. But a chance at it.

A chance that Virgil hoped they’d take.

“He likes us, Virgil!” Roman squealed, falling over the back of the couch to land in a pile on the one remaining cushion. He adjusted his sash and let his head droop to the floor, giving Virgil an upside-down smile. “He’s so cute, and nice, and funny, and smart--”

“And supportive,” Virgil added despite himself. “Thought it was cool that Thomas makes videos--”

“His song! The one he showed Thomas!” Roman placed a hand on his heart and sighed. “Pure music.”

Virgil blushed harder. “U-um. You know what--we could probably--duets. We could--”

“Oh my flipping goodness.” Roman’s eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh my hecking heck, by the alluring song of the seductive siren, Virgil, we could do duets with him.”

“We could!” Virgil grinned wildly. “We could sing--sing from--”

His words were getting jumbled. He shook his hands more and bobbed his head, trying to settle all the bubbly feelings. Too many thoughts, and not in the usual overwhelming way--like they were all clamoring for attention and squeezing into every space in his brain. He couldn’t stop thinking, remembering Nico’s smile and twinkling eyes and the exact cadence of his voice. He couldn’t stop beaming.

“Sing from what?” Roman asked when Virgil’s dissolved into a few hums and silence.

“Nightmare Before Christmas,” Virgil said. “You know--”

Roman gasped and Virgil swore he saw stars in his eyes. “Oh my goodness! Thomas and Nico need to do that right now, immediately.”

“I know,” Virgil said, “right?”

“I know,” Roman said, “right?”

They were quiet for a few seconds, grinning at each other, then Roman chuckled and Virgil snickered and they dissolved into giggles. Virgil rocked back and forth, cupping his mouth. Roman did a whole-body shimmy that made him slip further off the couch.

“You look ridiculous,” Virgil managed between snickers.

“How dare you.” Roman stuck out his tongue and tried to maneuver himself back onto the couch, only managing to hit his head on the ground. Virgil laughed even harder and Roman laughed too, sash rumpled and eyes wide, looking at Virgil like Virgil was the reason he looked so happy. Like Virgil had done something right.

Well, Virgil had. Apparently.

He’d made this happen.

He’d put this smile on Roman’s face.

How was he supposed to calm down and stop laughing when he’d done that?

“Nico,” Roman sang, riffing so much it ran through two or three octaves. “Nico, Nico, Nico Flores.”

“Composing a ballad for the occasion?”

“As a matter of fact, yes!” Roman wrinkled his nose. “Nothing rhymes with Flores.”

“Bores.” Virgil leaned back and rested his head on the arm of the couch, still shaking his hands out. “Snores.”

“No, no, it’s Flor-es.”

“Snore-es.”

“He’s not a snore!” Roman retorted. “He’s--he’s perfect.”

“Nah, nobody’s perfect.” Virgil sighed in a sickeningly sappy way. “He’s ours, though.”

“He’s ours,” Roman agreed.

For a second, there was blissful silence, save for Virgil’s happy hums.

“Nico,” Roman sang again, this time sliding up and down the scale. “Nicoooo--”

“Stop,” Virgil said, not really caring too much but feeling he should try and be a little cynical and bitter to offset all the soppiness. Roman stopped immediately. “At least have a tune,” Virgil amended.

“Nico,” Roman sang to the tune of Can You Feel The Love Tonight. “Nico, oh lovely Nico, light of my life, my eternal soul--”

“Please tell me you won’t actually sing this to him.”

“I promise nothing.” Roman waved his hands around more energetically. “Nico, dearest Nico, lovely one--”

“Doesn’t have a tune anymore,” Virgil said, grinning. “You lost it.”

“I’m improvising, Dull Out Boy.” Roman snickered. “Nico, you’re very cool, would you like to come to France--”

“We can’t go to France--”

“But picture it!“ Roman spread his hands. “Soft candlelight, the starry skies over the city, the rush of cars below as the wind whips our hair, a scrumptious meal spread over the tablecloth, his eyes shining as we eat atop the Eiffel Tower--”

“Whoa, hold on, what?” Virgil waved his hands. “You can’t eat on top of the--plus that’s like really high up--”

“Fine, then, we’ll just be looking at the Eiffel Tower.” Roman pulled his hands to his chest and squealed. “Nico though!”

“Nico though,” Virgil agreed. “You’re a sap.”

“You’re a sap.”

“I’m not.” Virgil felt a need to defend himself. “We’re all wired up ‘cause of this. We’re parts of Thomas.”

“True.” Roman laughed. “I bet Specs is completely fine, though.”

“Why?” Virgil asked.

“Well, you know, he’s--” Roman looked more uncomfortable with every word. He petered out with a weak wave of his hands.

“I’m Anxiety and I’m head over heels,” Virgil said. “He’s probably a mess just like you and me.”

“You’re head over heels?” Roman asked, grinning even wider.

“What--” Virgil spluttered. “I mean--yeah, I thought it was obvious--Thomas is--”

“And you’re--” Roman wriggled closer. “You like him.”

“Yeah, duh?”

“You like him!” Roman laughed triumphantly. “I knew it!”

Virgil snickered. “You agreeing with me isn’t, like, a win for you,”

“You like him!” Roman repeated once more. “You don’t like anyone! And you--you like him!”

“Um, yeah.” Virgil flushed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s, um--pretty cool.”

“You’re such a softie,” Roman said, shaking his head.

“Roman,” Virgil complained.

“Oh, was that--” Roman’s smile fell. “I didn’t mean to--was that the wrong thing to say?”

“I--” Virgil jerked upright. “No. Dude. I’m acting silly over this guy. It--it’s fine.”

And, he realized, it kind of was. Just for today. Virgil was a bit soft today, and only Roman could see, and that was alright for now. Virgil was riding high, over the moon, every stupid metaphor in the book. Virgil’s guard was all the way down.

He’d regret this later. Obviously. But hindsight was 20/20 and right now he was enjoying the moment.

“I like him,” Virgil said, blushing but keeping his chin up. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, smiling back. “So do I.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Hey!” Roman rolled his eyes. “You’re just mad because my song moved you to tears.”

“Tears of laughter, yeah.” Virgil grinned. “Ask Logan for help, he’s better with the rhymes.”

“He’d mock me!” Roman complained. “He wouldn’t understand the love behind every word!”

“Hey, like I said, we’re all sunny and whatnot.” Virgil shrugged. “It’s probably your best chance, if I’m being honest.”

Roman tapped his chin. “No time like the present, right?”

“What?” Virgil’s eyes widened. “I dunno if that’s a good--”

“Specs!” Roman called, waving a hand. “Get in here, we need your help!”

Virgil scrambled into a sitting position and tucked his hands under his legs. Just in time. Logan rose up next to the stairs, notebook in hand, a pen tucked behind his ear and his tie slightly lopsided. His hair was fluffed up a bit around his forehead and he rubbed at his eyes as he turned around to blink at Roman and Virgil.

“Sup,” Virgil said, feeling suddenly a lot less confident. He betted his eyeshadow had gone back to black.

“Specs!” Roman cried, grinning. “Why, hello!”

“What do you need?” Logan asked, folding his notebook to his chest and giving Roman a cool glare. “I’m busy.”

“I need your help!”

“You--” Logan looked taken aback for a second. “With what?”

Roman spread his arms. “Words!”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Words for our precious prince!” Roman paused. “Not me, but, you know, him. Well, me too, since I’m making the words, they’re just not addressed to me--”

Logan blinked. “What are you talking about it?”

“Oh, he doesn’t--” Roman jumped up and waved his hands. “So! Specs, you’re seriously not gonna believe this--”

“Let me tell it,” Virgil interrupted. “So, we were at the mall--”

“--there was this guy, and he was a ten out of ten--no, eleven or twelve, beyond numbers--”

“--Thomas was being an idiot like usual--”

“--fake with a plastic plant--”

“--guy came out of the bathroom stall--”

“--carrots are still vile and villainous--”

“--and I encouraged his stupidity for some reason--”

“--and now we have a date!”

Logan didn’t look enlightened by their frantic explanation, probably because they were talking over each other excitedly, Virgil starting to flap again and Roman bouncing on his heels.

“Date!” Roman squealed. “Date, Logan. His name’s Nico and he’s so wonderful and--”

“You realize I know all this?” Logan said slowly. “I’m also a part of Thomas.”

“Oh.” Roman stared at Logan. “Oh, right.”

“But you’re not--” Virgil didn’t know how to explain it. Logan looked normal. Kind of pissy, actually. Not like he’d been affected at all--well, maybe Roman was right. Maybe Logic wasn’t affected. He’d been affected with Thomas’ ex, though--did that mean their attraction to Nico wasn’t as full--did that mean there was something wrong--

C’mon, Virgil. In and out. This wasn’t worry time. Not yet.

“Aren’t you excited?” Roman finished. “We have a date!”

“You seem to be covering the excited portion of things,” Logan said cooly. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t been here before.”

“He’s so cool though!” Roman burst out, rocking on the balls of his feet. “And smart, and he writes poetry, I know you’d appreciate that--”

“I know--” Logan tensed a bit. “Poetry?”

“Poetry!” Roman squealed, doing a little twirl on the carpet. “Poetry, Specs, he’s a poet!”

“Huh.” Logan coughed a bit, and Virgil saw a bit of red on his cheeks. “Well, I--didn’t notice that part. That’s--adequate, I suppose.”

“Way more than adequate!” Roman spun again, arms wide. “Spiffing and spectacular and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

"Whatever you say.” Logan backed towards the door. “I still am busy, though, so if you’ll excuse me--”

“No, come on, celebrate with us!” Roman darted forward and grabbed Logan’s arm. “You can’t seriously say you’re not happy for Thomas!”

“Of course I’m not,” Logan said, removing Roman’s hand from his sleeve. “I don’t feel happiness.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but love.” Roman batted his eyes. “True love. How can you scorn it?”

“We’ve known him for less than a day.”

“A wondrous day! Calooh calay!” Roman spun back over to Virgil. “Emo Nightmare knows what I mean.”

“He does?” Logan blinked at Virgil as if registering him for the first time. That made sense. Roman was good at stealing the spotlight. Virgil squirmed under Logan’s gaze, giving him a little salute. “I would assume you were nervous.”

“Well, now that you say it--” Virgil huffed and leaned back into the couch. “This is--cool. He’s--cool. I don’t mind.”

“Huh,” Logan said again.

“See, even our favorite gloomy goober is on board!” Roman clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Please, Specs, can’t you give us your seal of approval?”

“I cannot give you a seal,” Logan said, “surely you could summon one if it was necessary--”

“Wrong seal.” Roman pursed his lips and widened his eyes. “Pretty please?”

Logan’s mouth curled into an incredulous wince. “Don’t. Please don’t do that. Ever again.”

“Aww.”

“Look, I don’t see why you need me to condone any of this,” Logan said, waving a hand. “It’s already happened. You both seem excited. Logic plays no role in these proceedings. It’s clear that my endorsement of this would mean absolutely nothing.”

“To Thomas, maybe,” Virgil said, working up the nerve to address the wrongness he felt welling up. “To us, though--”

“It’d mean we’re doing the right thing,” Roman finished, his voice quiet. “You’re the smart one, right? You’d know if this was--a mistake.”

“Oh,” Logan said softly. “Oh, I see.”

Virgil pulled at his sleeve, avoiding Logan’s gaze.

“So,” Roman said, the word drawn out and fragile. “What do you think of him?”

Logan took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Virgil’s hands twisted tighter around his sleeve.

“You already know that I believe Thomas has far too many acquaintances,” Logan continued, looking like he hated every word that came out of his mouth. “A new romantic relationship, despite being the end goal of some humans, would distract him even more. Not only with time spent, but also with emotional capacity.”

Roman frowned. “Yeah, but--”

“It will make my job ten times harder,” Logan said, starting to pace back and forth. “Logic will be figuratively overwhelmed by hormones and feelings, and schedules will be harder to maintain. And what if he affects our future goals? We have a solid career and this could jeopardize it, as a public figure an ill-advised relationship could have serious consequences--”

“Lo?” Virgil asked.

“And don’t get me started on the--ugh--emotional ramifications.” Logan ran his hand through his hair. “Are we ready for a relationship at this scale? What if we aren’t compatible? Most relationships do not last forever, and we would have to navigate yet another heartbreak, which would send Patton into turmoil and once again rob me of any sort of control. With Thomas as fragile as he is, emotionally, it’s a loaded choice to dive into another situation that could make or break his self-esteem--”

“Logan!”

Logan jerked his head up. Roman’s eyes were wide and he’d stopped bouncing.

“I--” Logan took a breath and smoothed his tie. “Apologies. I seem to have--upset you.”

“Don’t,” Virgil said. “I’ve been thinking all that stuff too. It’s fine.”

“And that’s not what I asked,” Roman said. “I asked what you think of him.”

“Him?”

“Nico.”

“Nico,” Logan repeated, and Virgil swore he heard a dip in Logan’s voice. “Nico, he’s--he seems like an upstanding citizen and a good fit for Thomas.”

“Boring,” Roman teased. “Try again.”

“He’s--he’s financially stable to a degree--”

“Try again.”

Logan groaned and rubbed his nose. “Roman, you’re being insufferable--”

“I want to know what you think,” Roman said, his voice achingly soft. “Not Nico’s Pokemon stats.”

“Nerd,” Virgil mumbled.

“Punk,” Roman fired back.

“He’s--” Logan took one more shaky breath, drawing Virgil and Roman’s attention again. “He’s a poet.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed, a smile poking at his lips.

“He understands music theory,” Logan said, his voice stronger. He tapped his foot on the ground. “He held up an entire conversation about lyrics and diction, and he clearly understands the subtleties of creating an effective song.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, grinning. “And he let Thomas talk--”

“He let Thomas talk!” Logan agreed. His hand was tapping in time with his foot now. “Even when Thomas was incorrect, he was kind about it, and Thomas was able to teach him things too--he said Thomas was smart--”

“He said Thomas was smart!” Roman gushed, fists balled under his chin.

“He’s smart!” Logan burst out, eyes wide and his hands flying. “He’s smart and he’s capable and he has all sorts of knowledge and we could learn things from him, so many things, and he’d let us--”

Logan trailed off with a wild squeak and a shimmy of his fists, pretty close to Roman’s bouncing. He was flushed, eyes sparkling, and the corners of his lips were definitely turned up. Logan was smiling. Just a bit. And that made every doubt in Virgil’s stomach disappear.

“You like him,” Virgil breathed, because he had to make sure.

“I--” Logan looked self-conscious. “Yes. I like him a lot.”

“Specs approves!” Roman declared, rushing up and grabbing Logan’s hands, pulling him in a circle. “Today is indeed a glorious day--oh, did you see part of his song--”

“The lyrics were extremely well-crafted,” Logan agreed, his voice brighter than Virgil had heard in weeks, his smile growing wider as Roman spun him around and around.

“You like him!” Roman gasped, beaming. “You like him, Specs--”

“Yes!” Logan burst out, and his smile turned into a grin. “Yes, I do, he’s wonderful--”

“He’s wonderful!” Roman echoed, still pulling Logan around the room in a makeshift dance. Logan allowed himself to be led, giggling under his breath, hair falling over his forehead and eyes shining.

“We did it, guys,” Virgil couldn’t help but say, shaking his fists once again. “We did it, we did it--we have a date--”

“A date, and all thanks to you!” Roman swept over and offered a hand. Virgil took it hesitantly and Roman tugged him gently to the middle of the living room. No twirling, but Roman’s huge smile made Virgil just as breathless as if he’d been tugged around. “A date, a date, oh, I’m so excited--”

“I didn’t do much,” Virgil protested, grinning.

“Didn’t do much?” Roman repeated as if Virgil had insulted another Disney movie. “You did everything!”

“There was a problem, and you solved it.” Logan leaned over to Virgil and squeezed his hand, and if pressed, Virgil would never admit how his eyeshadow deepened. “Thank you, Virgil.”

“He’s so flustered!” Roman teased, and Virgil stuck out his tongue and pressed closer to Logan’s side.

“Your eyeshadow,” Logan murmured. “Virgil, it’s--”

“Sparkly? Yeah.” Virgil bit his lip. “You know. Tingly feeling after achieving something you didn’t believe was possible.”

“It looks heavenly on you!” Roman clapped his hands. “Now I want some sparkly makeup, hold on--”

“Focus, Roman,” Logan said fondly.

“Focus on what?”

“I don’t know, whatever you wanted from me originally?”

“Which was--” Roman blinked several times and stuck out his tongue in concentration. “Hmm.”

“Heh.” Virgil elbowed him. “Poetry?”

“Poetry!” Roman twirled. “My good nerd, you understand the need for an epic aria to commemorate this day, correct?”

“I--” Logan raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“And I’m struggling with the rhymes and the reasons.” Roman clasped Logan’s hands to his chest. “I beseech thee, provide me with words that do justice to his wonder!”

“Effervescent,” Logan said automatically. “Vivacious. Pulchritudinous.”

“I have no idea how to rhyme any of those, but it’s a start!” Roman pulled Logan to the couch and tossed himself onto one end. Logan sat at the other end, kicking up a leg on the armrest and already scribbling in his notebook. Virgil took his time sitting on the floor next to them, enjoying just seeing his idiots getting along, swapping rhymes and smiling widely and already spreading bits of paper on the floor.

It was freaking awesome.

So of course it couldn’t last.

In the middle of a long monologue from Logan about the pros and cons of using iambic pentameter, which both Virgil and Roman were dutifully listening to, a bloody heart sailed through the air and smacked Roman in the face.

“Ew!” Roman cried, wiping blood off his cheek. “That’s vile, Remus!”

“You were looking for metaphors, right?” Remus appeared next to Virgil with a manic grin on his face and a notable cavity where his heart should be. “Thomas would tear out his heart for him.”

“Put it back in,” Roman pleaded, shoving the heart at Remus and covering his eyes. “Put it back in.”

“Wow, Ro, you really don’t understand love.” Remus reluctantly popped the heart into his chest, and with a sickening squelch, the skin grew back. “It was beautiful and poetic and you’re sleeping on it.”

“Just because a metaphor would work well in-poem doesn’t mean it fits literally,” Logan said. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, we’re busy,” Virgil said, hunching up his shoulders. “I don’t have time for your stupid attention games today.”

“Rude!” Remus complained, scrunching up his nose. “This is a special occasion, calm your tits.”

“A special what now?” Virgil groaned. “Oh no, did you stab Patton again?”

“No, you’d hear the screams.” Remus shimmied. “Thomas has a boyf!”

“They are not officially partners,” Logan corrected.

“Eh, bullsh*t.” Remus waved a hand and flopped onto the carpet, kicking a leg in the air. “Thomas is head over heels over d*ck, googoo gaga googly eyes, a small chicken in the woodchipper of love.”

Virgil winced. “The what now--”

“Which means they’re as good as f*cking!” Remus grinned. “Which means we gotta celebrate!”

“Oh, no.” Roman stared at Remus in abject horror. “You’re--don’t you dare start talking about Nico like--like--”

“Like what?” Remus put on an innocent face that fooled nobody. “All I’m saying is, I’d main him in Super Smash Bros--”

“Nope.” Virgil waved his hands in front of his face and squeezed his eyes shut. “Nope, nope, nope--”

“We’re done here,” Roman announced. “We are done here.”

Logan just sighed.

“Guys, c’mon, we were all thinking it!” Remus rolled his eyes. “He’s a hottie, a hunk, a piece of meat, and I would commit murder for him!”

“Please don’t,” Logan said.

“I would!” Remus sat up and stared at them intently. “I would cut a million throats and watch the blood pool from the bodies if it made him smile. Okay? Okay.”

“You’d do that anyway,” Virgil pointed out.

“It’s different!” Remus folded his arms. “You don’t get it. But I would--I would drive a tractor into a wall for him. I would jump out of a moving car.”

Roman shook his head. “I fail to see how this is different than your usual modus operandi.”

“Because him!” Remus waved wildly at everything. “Him! He’s all, you know--yeah!”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed reluctantly.

“Yeah,” Logan sighed.

“Yeah!” Roman squealed.

“All I’m saying is,” Remus said, doing another full-body shimmy that made his frills wiggle, “he’s cute, okay? He’s cute. And I would die for him.”

“Then perish,” Virgil said, because he had to.

“He is cute,” Roman said slowly, like he’d just realized Remus was speaking English.

“He is cute!” Remus squealed. “He’s all--and you know--and--”

Then he screeched. A full-blown foghorn wail. Virgil clapped his hands over his ears and Logan scrambled back instinctively. Remus wasn’t fazed. He vibrated up and down and squealed long and loud, eyes squeezed shut, hands in the air. It barely dipped in register and volume, and Virgil wondered if Remus needed to breathe. Wait, of course he didn’t. Which meant he could do this as long as he liked.

And it was really loud, and it was also--kind of--sweet?

Virgil cracked both his eyes open. Remus was still wiggling and squealing and a smile was threatening to burst off his face. Logan was rolling his eyes but giving Remus an indulgent smile. And Roman was looking at Remus with wide eyes, but not the usual ew-Remus-wtf eyes. And Roman was smiling, too.

And Roman squealed.

Roman squealed just as loud as Remus and managing to hit an even higher note. His hands came up and shook in front of his face, and he squealed.

Remus blinked and looked almost shocked, before his smile grew somehow even wider. And they both squealed. It was so loud and should have put Virgil so far on edge that he’d be falling off it.

And yeah, it was loud. Earsplitting, in fact. But not really that bad. Actually, it was kind of nice to see them smiling. Squealing. Vibrating at the speed of light and filling the room with happy noises.

Logan caught Virgil’s eye and shrugged. Virgil shrugged back, half-smiling.

Slowly, the squealing morphed into words. Garbled, choppy words, but words regardless.

“He’s--cute--I can’t handle--” Roman waved his hands wildly. “Cute! Pretty! I wanna--sweet--him!”

Remus nodded so much that he looked like a bobblehead doll. “Cute good very nice.”

“Very very nice!”

“Cute!”

“Cute,” Virgil added, grinning.

He got a double serving of bright smiles for that. Logan was chuckling to himself, watching Remus and Roman rock back and forth and seemingly communicate through singular words, hand motions, and occasional squeals. Virgil flapped along in rhythm and got another few glittering smiles, and Logan scribbled in his notebook, chewing on the top of the pen and even giving a few encouraging murmurs when Remus and Roman paused in their squealing.

Then footsteps.

Patton dashed into the room, Janus at his heels. “I heard screaming?”

Both Logan and Roman looked like they’d been hit in the face with a pan. Virgil probably looked the same. Remus grinned and waved, but even his hand fell to the ground soon enough.

Dead silence. For an achingly long time, so long that Virgil considered just ducking out. He settled for worrying the laces of his hoodie and staring at his sneakers.

“We were--” Logan opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed. “There’s no cause for alarm. Roman and Remus were simply excited--”

“Date!” Remus yelled, jumping up and practically tackling Janus. “Date, Janny, and he’s a hottie--”

“Yes, do suffocate me, I didn’t have anything planned.” Janus pried Remus off with a grin. “Congratulations on your boy toy.”

“You helped!” Remus pointed out.

“Hardly,” Janus said, but Virgil knew him well enough to see the proud edge to his smile. “Virgil and Roman clearly had everything under control.”

“Hey,” Roman grumbled.

“He’s so cute!” Remus squealed.

“He’s dreamy,” Patton agreed, sighing.

“He’s certainly--” Janus coughed, his face red and scales gleaming. “He’s. Um.”

“Don’t hide it,” Remus teased, bumping Janus in the shoulder. “We all see your hands flapping.”

Janus looked down at his extra hands, which were twisting in several patterns and shaking around his sides. “Ah. Well--”

“It’s cute,” Patton gushed, doing a twirl and flap of his own. “Everyone’s happy, it’s okay--”

Janus glanced at Roman--and Logan, still silent on the couch--and Virgil, who looked away. His eyebrows pulled together.

“Well, I’ll certainly stick around for the aftermath,” Janus said, stepping away delicately and giving them all one last loaded look. “Have fun, and congratulations.”

“Jan,” Patton said, speaking up for the first time and grabbing his elbow. Janus turned to look at him and they seemed to have a whole conversation with just their eyes. Virgil’s stomach twisted at the sight--they knew each other so well now, and it had only been weeks, weeks of Patton and Janus getting close and Virgil skirting at the edges of their happiness, weeks of being alone--

The happiness in Virgil’s chest flickered and faded.

“It’s good news,” Logan said, and everyone jerked around to look at him. His hands were folded in his lap, but his voice was strong. “We should all celebrate.”

“Sure,” Roman said, an edge to his words, “doesn’t mean we have to do it all together--”

“We’re all parts of Thomas,” Logan said quietly. “We all helped make this happen.”

Roman let out a long sigh.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Logan added, his eyes skimming over Patton and Janus and resting on Virgil. Virgil squirmed under the eye contact, his hands flying over his sleeves, mind racing.

No. He didn’t want them there. He was celebrating and things would just get weird.

He’d thought that about Remus too, though.

“Do what you want,” Roman said, his voice defeated but just a bit soft. “It’s a big day. I get it.”

Janus swallowed. “I don’t want to--”

“Special occasion, right?” Roman rubbed at his arm. “And you did--try to help. With all those...lies. And I don’t like them. But--like Logan said. You tried to help. And now we have a date, and...it’s only fair that you get to stay.”

“Fair,” Janus repeated, an unspoken question hanging off it.

“Yeah.” Roman looked up, his eyes firm. “You’re a part of Thomas, and for today, let’s--put off all the overthinking?”

Janus pressed his lips together, and for a moment of a second, something soft flashed in his eyes.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, his face smoothing over.

“Both of you,” Roman added, his voice stretching even thinner as his eyes flickered over to Patton. “That--goes for both of you.”

Patton stared at Roman, eyes wide, hand pressed to his mouth.

“We’re celebrating,” Roman said, waving his hands in something that didn’t really seem all that celebratory. “I’m not going to ruin the moment.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Logan said, giving Roman a loaded look. “Again, if you’re truly uncomfortable with this--”

“I’m ready if you’re ready.” Roman took a deep breath and looked at Virgil, a smile flickering at the edge of his mouth. “Are we ready?”

Virgil swallowed.

Patton and Janus were staring at him, Patton’s expression achingly soft, achingly hesitant. Janus was more guarded, but Virgil could see the hesitance there--he knew Janus so well. And Virgil had changed, and so had Janus, but if they’d managed it once upon a time, that meant they weren’t completely screwed now.

And Patton. Patton, who was practically glowing, freckles on fire and eyes bright. He liked this guy. Of course he did. He was Thomas’ heart--and once again, Patton was falling. Who would Virgil be to leave him stranded? To not catch him, to not steady him, to not pick up the pieces.

And Logan. Logan was smiling a bit, giving Virgil a reassuring look. So supportive. Logan would support Thomas all the way, and Logan would make sure things worked out, and Logan would be their anchor in the storm. Virgil trusted Logan more than he’d trusted anyone in his life.

And Remus. Grinning, bouncing, hanging off Janus’ arm.

And Roman. Smile slowly returning.

Virgil had messed up so many times, and so had they. And here was another chance to do things right. Another chance at happiness.

Sure, it might crash and burn, but that was a worry for later.

“I’m ready,” Virgil said, and found he meant it.

“We can be ready,” Patton agreed, smiling. “If we try.”

And Virgil would try, again and again and again. He’d throw himself into danger and throw Thomas into danger. He’d take every leap and chance and opportunity. He’d fight the world for them--and of course their love needed work, it was rough around the edges and thin in the middles, but it was still good. Still worth another shot.

“Party time?” Roman asked.

“Party time,” Remus agreed.

And that night, gathered around the kitchen table with old streamers and a makeshift pie, almost nobody argued. Almost nobody fought. Janus and Virgil exchanged nods, Janus and Roman kept their distance, and Logan and Patton cooked together, bumping shoulders and smiling.

Not perfect. Not real. Not everything Virgil could dream of. Not yet.

The world was wide open, though, and one day this could be more than his fantasies.

It was a new beginning, and Virgil, for once, wasn’t afraid.

Taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

@stoicpanther

@chaospersonified

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #ts spoilers

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

We Can’t all be Sunshine and Rainbows

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/Reader

Word Count: 2,344

Warnings: No big ones. Implied torture and feelings of depression and PTSD.

Marcus had never seen anyone as powerful as you. With emotions that literally controlled the weather, you were basically a God. But power of that magnitude attracts many kinds of people, and sometimes, you must rely on yourself as much as you rely on the calming voice of Marcus Moreno

Author’s Notes: I don’t usually do an A/N but I want to give credit to the lovely @anetteaneta for their story ‘Weatherwoman’ which inspired the Reader’s power in this story! Go check it out, because it was a very good story.

“You doing okay?”

You looked up, sighing as the weather noticeably warmed. Marcus always made the temperature rise, but he never seemed to mind. In fact, he found it funny.

“Yeah,” you said, flipping a page in your book. “Just thinking.”

Marcus smiled, settling on the grass next to you. “Your thinking is making it very cold out here. What’s wrong?”

You closed your book. “This was mom’s favorite book.”

“Oh.” Marcus shuffled closer to you, so that his thigh was pressed to yours. He could still remember finding you, alone and scared, in the wreckage of your parents house. You’d gotten into an argument with them over something small, and your powers had ignited in that moment, setting the entire house ablaze. He’d been the one to lift you from the smoking remains and bandage your slightly singed hands. Aside from being shaken, you were completely fine.

The lasting emotional damage had been bad. You’d never learned to control your power, so the city’s weather depended entirely on your mood. Marcus continued to insist you needed to take control and make your power your own, but fear kept you from ever trying. The last time you’d used your power on a scale as large as Marcus was talking about, you’d killed two people and turned your childhood home to ash. But he never pushed, only reminded you he was there for when you were ready to try.

Now, three years after the accident, you and Marcus were partners, both in a relationship and in hero work. He was your rock, grounding you whenever your emotions got the better of you. He’d prevented many devastating hurricanes and actually jumped into a tornado you had caused so he could calm you down. In return, you gave him sunshine and happiness, rekindling his love and providing him a reason to fight as hard as he did.

“Is there anything you need?” Marcus asked, nudging your side.

You shook your head. “Not anything you could get me,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

You two stayed like that, enjoying each other in the simplest way, until the sun began to turn Marcus’s skin red. When that happened, you kissed his nose, leaving the tiniest bit of sunburn behind.

He laughed, standing and helping you up. “The weather is perfect,” he said, putting his arm around you.

“Thank you,” you said. “I do try.”

You two ended up in the local park, hand in hand. Heroics headquarters stood high in the background, reminding you of the ever looming responsibility Marcus had on his shoulders. The weather remained nice, sunny and a perfect temperature for a walk.

“How’s Missy?” You asked eventually, after bouncing from topic to topic.

“Good!” Marcus said happily. “She’s a natural leader.”

You smiled. “I wonder where she gets that from.”

Marcus laughed. Before he could say anything, however, his watch beeped. “Crap.”

“Work?”

“Work.” Marcus took his jacket off and put it across your shoulders. “Keep this safe for me, okay?”

You nodded, drawing the worn leather tighter around you. “You better come back for it!”

Marcus began to jog across the park, turning back to smile at you. “I always do!”

As he ran off, you sighed, turning away and heading back to Marcus’s house. It wasn’t too far, and the weather would remain nice as long as you stayed calm.

Of course, the sun can’t last forever.

You got home, seeing Missy already there. “That bad, huh?” You asked, grabbing a glass of milk.

Missy shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell me.”

“Well that’s a load of crap,” you said, sitting at the table next to her. “Let’s see if we can’t see him on the news.”

Missy perked up, following you into the living room and turning on the TV. A bunch of reporters were already covering the attack, and you eagerly nudged Missy. “There he is.”

As the fighting continued, you grew more and more worried that this wouldn’t go well. Marcus was getting visibly tired, protecting an unconscious Ms. Vox. The faceless enemies piled up around him, staining the ground red. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your thigh that you realized what was happening outside.

The sky was dark, a deep blue-purple grey that scared you so much lightning began to flash in the sky, splitting the nightmare clouds and making you jump.

“You need to calm down,” Missy murmured, crawling into your lap and taking your hands. You breathed with her, feeling her back expand against your chest. Eventually, the sky settled at a gentler grey overcast, a light rainfall hitting the ground as Missy turned the TV off.

“He’ll be fine,” she promised, scooting next to you and pushing herself into you. “He always is.”

He was not.

A heroics agent came to the house within the hour, solemnly telling you that Marcus had been kidnapped. His location was unknown, and the agent handed a shocked Missy Marcus’s shattered watch.

As soon as the agent gave you two the information, the rain heavily increased until it was pouring. There was no thunder, just a dismally grey sky and a steady downpour. Missy walked over to the kitchen counter, gently placing the ruined watch down next to a photo of the three of you, smiling and happy on a beautiful sunny day.

Four days of straight, nonstop rain later, you were slowly rolling a pen across Marcus’s desk in Heroic headquarters. Miracle Guy and Tech-No were with you, keeping you and Missy, who was sitting in the corner of the office and doing her homework, safe. However, nothing was really happening, so having them there was pointless.

Pointless until a beeping startled you, sending a split second of hail across the window.

“That was me.” Tech-No checked his watch, standing abruptly and gesturing Miracle Guy to his feet. “They found him.”

“Found who?” You asked, also standing. “Marcus?”

Miracle Guy hesitated by the door, looking between you and Missy. “Missy, get the kids and meet me on the bus in five minutes.”

You followed after Miracle Guy, your anxiety making the winds outside pick up. “Hey!” You shouted, but he didn’t turn. No one did. “What’s going on?”

Missy and the other kids raced over to the bus, Tech-No ushering them on. You tried to follow, but Miracle Guy refused to let you pass.

“I promised Marcus I’d keep you safe,” he yelled over the wind. “That means you’re staying here.”

“If they don’t go, I don’t go,” Missy countered, stepping off the bus and standing beside you.

Miracle Guy faltered. “Missy.”

Missy stood her ground, glaring at the Heroics until they let you on the bus.

The ride to wherever you were going was silent, all other noise being drowned by the rain, which only got worse as the bus got further and further from headquarters.

“Marcus is in the second building on the left,” Miracle Guy said once the bus began to slow. “Missy, you take the kids and secure the surrounding area. We’ll go in teams of two, staggered by a few minutes. Once he’s been retrieved, take him to the ambulance. We don’t know what his current condition is, so be prepared for anything.”

“What about me?” You asked, hesitantly standing.

Miracle Guy pointed to the ambulance that had pulled up beside the bus. “Stay here. If we get him out, he’ll want a familiar face. Try and stay calm. The last thing we need right now is a hurricane.”

You nodded, grabbing an umbrella and setting yourself up under the small tent next to the ambulance.

The wait was agonizing, but you managed to calm your nerves until the wind was just a slight breeze. The kids got the surrounding buildings secured, flushing out a bunch of low level villains. The police arrested them all, and Missy joined you under the tent.

“Anything?” She asked. All the Heroics had gone in, and yet, none had returned.

“No.” You fidgeted with the umbrella handle, your anxiety making the air cold. “Nothing yet.”

Just as you spoke, Ms. Vox stumbled out of the building, supported by Blinding Fast. Two paramedics rushed over, helping them under the tent and calling for more ambulances.

“What’s going on?” Missy asked, looking worriedly at Ms. Vox’s injuries.

She shook her head. “They aren’t very strong,” she said softly, her voice incredibly scratched. “Or organized but there are so many of them. I think Tech-No found Marcus, but couldn’t do much. Lavagirl is out cold, and last I saw of Sharkboy, he was trying to help her. I don’t think they’re doing okay.”

Missy bit her lip, looking back at the building. “We’re going in.”

You hesitated. “Who are you taking?”

She turned to look at you, genuine fear in her eyes. “You.”

“What?”

Missy took your hand. “We’ve got this,” she promised. “For Dad.”

You nodded, the rain lightening substantially. “For Marcus.”

The two of you raced into the building, followed by Missy’s team. She began shouting directions, sending the kids off in various directions. By the time she was done, it was you, her, Wild Card, and Guppy racing up stairs and down halls.

In the end, you and Missy reached a door that had been smashed in, Tech-No unconscious just outside the doorway. Missy propped him up on the wall and gestured Guppy over. “Think you can take him downstairs?”

Guppy nodded, lifting Tech-No easily and carrying him off towards the waiting ambulances.

Missy gestured Wild Card into the room first, and he immediately began to take out villains. You slipped into the room behind him, trying to keep your bearings beyond the muddled mix of emotions brewing in your chest.

You spotted Marcus laying, unconscious, in a cage, his body smeared with blood. You gasped, feeling the anger and fear turn your vision dark.

Missy slipped behind you, pressing a hand to your arm. “Stay calm.”

“Forget calm,” you growled lowly, looking at her, crouched down beside you. “Get Wild Card out of here. Evacuate the building as best you can. Get everyone away from the area and into sturdy buildings as far away as you can.”

“What are you going to do?” Missy asked, clearly nervous.

You balled your fists. “I’m getting your father out of here.”

Missy left, grabbing Wild Card and going, yelling down the halls to get out. You rushed the remaining villains, the rain getting heavier and heavier as you fought, using the minimal fight training you had.

Finally, the villains were all out, piled on the floor in limp heaps. You quickly opened the cage and pulled Marcus out, dragging him to the middle of the room. If this didn’t work, it would kill everyone. If it did, it could be your saving grace.

You sat on the floor, pulling Marcus into your lap. His eyes opened slightly, one of them swollen and bruised. “Babe?”

“Hush,” you whispered, cradling him with one hand and raising the other to the circular window in the ceiling. The rain pounded, and you concentrated on the feeling behind it, focusing on the soreness in your body until the rain turned to hail. The hail grew in size until it shattered the window, baseball sized chunks of ice hitting the floor, avoiding you and Marcus.

You kept your hand raised, feeling it burn, the white hot fire racing down your arm as you poured anger into your heart, the red hot emotions mixing with the pain in your body until you were screaming, summoning a huge bolt of lightning to strike the building.

When you opened your eyes again, it was to sirens and the smell of smoke. You cracked an eye, seeing charred rubble all around you. Sunlight filtered down, warming your face as you collapsed against Marcus. He was limp as well, and you were both supporting each other.

“You did it,” Marcus murmured into your heat from where his chin was resting against your shoulder. “You turned your power into your own.”

You smiled, using the last of your strength to grip his shirt. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, okay? I was so worried.”

Marcus chuckled weakly. “I’ll try not to get kidnapped again,” he promised.

The rescue team found you a few minutes later, lifting you both from the smoking remains of the building. Missy hugged both of you, crying her eyes out and insisting on riding in the ambulance with you. Aside from being shocked and a bit dazed, you were okay, slumped against the ambulance wall as you watched a paramedic stitch up a wound on Marcus’s arm.

Two days later, the sun was shining and the weather was warm as Marcus was discharged from the hospital. Heroics had given him a vacation, letting him recover in the safety of his own home for a month. Missy was off from school for a week, using her time off to relax and forget what had just befallen you.

“Weather’s nice,” Marcus commented happily as you two walked through his house and into the backyard.

You smiled, sitting next to him in the grass. “The forecast all week is supposed to be sunshine,” you murmured.

Marcus nodded, leaning his head onto yours. “Y’know, I knew exactly when you got the news,” he said softly. “The rain was so loud.”

“I’m sorry.” You picked at a loose thread on your shirt, anxiety making clouds roll across the sun.

“No,” Marcus insisted, taking your hands. “I knew it meant you were missing me. And that you’d come for me.”

You smiled, the sun beginning to shine bright again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marcus said. “And by the way, do you still have my jacket?”

You laughed, the weather warming. “It’s in the house,” you said happily. “Didn’t want to ruin it.”

Marcus smiled. “You’re the best.”

You leaned into his chest, looking up at the sky. It was picture perfect, with a few scattered clouds and a bright sun to warm everything. “I know.”

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal #my writing

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cloudyempress · 4 years

Text

Storge || K. Muzan + Upper moons

✦ Fluff, comedy, manga spoilers, child!reader, reader is Muzan's daughter.

- This was originally published in wattpad.

Storge (noun); familial love, the love of a parent towards offspring and vice versa.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

They called you Little Misfortune. Spending time with you was a nightmare worse than disagreeing with Muzan. Your seven year old self could only think of their faces as a canvas to use the paint your father regularly buys you. A few minutes babysitting you was the equivalent of being in rainbow land and hell at the same time. And if you had a single, microscopic scratch at the end of the day, they would suffer severe consequences.

Kokushibo hated how much you'd tug his hair and make fun of his eyes, along with your hideous loudness. Hantengu ran away from you when he realized how deadly adorable you could be, forcing him to become tiny so you could put him inside your dollhouse. Gyokko had to put up with you breaking his pots and making disgusting faces whenever you saw him, also having to praise your artwork even if he disliked it. Gyutaro found you incredibly annoying, but loves when you disagree with him being ugly and laughs when you prank Daki. Talking about her, she's the upper moon that hates you the most since you gained all the attention from Muzan and you generally bothered her. Akaza was the nicest out of them, so you'd crawl onto his arms whenever you were scared or feeling tired. Finally, Douma loved you, finding it funny when you blushed at how cute he was or how much you adored playing with him.

Being born a demon, which was a extremely rare case (specially being born from a human and having a lot of human features like aging), you had gained your demon blood art early. This meant more trouble for the Upper moons, you could make them lose control over their arts and breaths (in the case of Kokushibo and other demon slayers).

It was a chaos when you first used it. Hantengu's turn of babysitting you turned into you getting lost in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress, Nakime not being able to know where you were and the rooms moving and shifting randomly. Once Muzan found out, he rushed the other upper moons into an emergency meeting.

"Why are you so incompetent? First the lower moons, and now you as well? Can't you just guard a fucking child?"

Everyone was in complete silence. They knew better than to mess with Muzan when he got angry about something happening to his dear daughter.

"I'm going to say this once. Find (Name) before I disband you. Now."

Not wasting time in saying 'yes', they all left to find you. As the fort was chaos, most of them got smashed into a wall or pushed to the ground. Luckily, Kokushibo had enough instinct to avoid those, quickly finding you eating a giant jar of your favorite ice cream with lots of oreos and sprinkles. You were stuffing your face with it and humming songs, until you noticed that his towering figure was standing next to you, his accusatory six eyes piercing through your soul. You stopped everything you were doing, standing up and taking a defensive pose.

"Come, (Name). Muzan-sama is..."

Before he could continue, you took out pieces of a flute from your dress' pocket and waved them in the air high enough for him to see. Kokushibo frowned in anger and confusion, wondering how you got your hands on his brother's flute, which he usually keeps on him.

"No! I won't give in to a hairy spider like you! I used to have nightmares about you, but now I am not scared!"

"Spiders have eight eyes, (Name)."

But you didn't listen, sticking out your tongue and throwing the pieces in the air, running away the second he shifted his gaze to them instead of you.

The fort was filled with your giggles, sounding like a music only two people liked but the others had to endure it. They just didn't stop until you found Gyokko's freshly painted pots, his colors begging you to smash them into the ground. You climbed the table and shoved them to the edges, then began jumping to see if they would fall or resist the vibrations of your weight against the table. They didn't, falling into the floor and becoming tiny pieces of what they once were.

"DAMN CHILD! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY THE GREAT GYOKKO'S ART?"

"Oops!" you turned around with a cheeky grin adorning your face.

Gyokko launched at you, gritting his teeth.

"I did you a favor! Now you'll have to throw them out in the trash, were they belong"

Before his hands could reach you, a wall as fast as lightning hit him so hard he ended up in another room altogether. You shrugged and kept running around.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro and Daki walked together, both complaining about the situation. He mainly listened to her whine while she rambled on how pointless looking for you was.

"Can't somebody shut up that horrying child laughter?" she screamed at the ceiling.

Gyutaro crossed his arms, he lacked the energy to explain to her how an annoying child worked. He knew it too well from taking care of her.

"I don't get why Muzan-sama wants her when he has me." Daki spread her hand in front of her face and started counting with her fingers. "I'm gorgeous, strong, loyal... and I'm not an stupid, loud-as-fuck child!"

"Ume" Gyutaro called, as the both of them kept walking straight.

"She's a pain! She takes all of Muzan-sama's precious time away."

"Ume" he stopped walking, Daki kept her pace as she was fixated on finding things to hate you for.

"She couldn't even speak properly when we first met her. All she does is cause trouble for us, that's why nobody likes her!"

"Ume!"

She turned around to face him, a vein popping out of her forehead.

"What?!"

"At least I'm not as stupid as you, miss whore! Daddy told me you were annoying yesterday."

All her hairs perked up when she heard your voice. She turned around to find you a few meters away from her, a bit shocked from hearing you insult her that way.

"Who taught you that word?" she placed her hand above her chest, surprise evident in her expression.

"I did" Gyutaro said, a smirk appearing in his face. He waved at you ignoring his sister's terrifying anger. "Hi there, little misfortune. Everybody's looking for you"

"You're not going to stop me?"

He shrugged, going back to his usual annoyed expression.

"Not me, but my sister is"

Daki jumped at you, almost not giving you time to react properly. You spit the gum you were chewing to put it on her hair. Her eyes widened in horror as she tried to take it off, letting you off her hands.

"Fuck you, (Name)! Come back here you damn brat!"

Gyutaro helped Daki take off the gum, you running away from them. The last thing you heard as you escaped was Gyutaro offering to cut off the damaged part of her beautiful long hair.

Your legs were short and you got tired of running after a few minutes. You collapsed on the ground to take in some air.

"Oh~ Are you tired, (Name)-chan?" Douma's playful tone made your eyes shine at the realization that he was there.

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were not only exhausted, but also feeling guilty of accidentally stepping on tiny Hantengu on your way there. It wasn't your fault he was terrified of your childishness and Muzan's rage, but you didn't notice he was in the way and stepped on him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for causing all of this! Is just that Hantengu didn't want to play with me and I felt lonely! I don't want to be alone! Now everyone hates me!"

"Shhh... It's ok. You're an adorable little princess, nobody hates you."

He ruffled your hair as your teary eyes stare at his rainbow colored ones. They were both beautiful and calming for you, those colors made you think pretty things when you were sad.

"You don't hate me?"

"Of course I don't!"

"Then, will you marry me when I grow up?"

He chuckled, ruffling your hair again. Your cheeks were burning from embarrassment.

"Yes, su—"

Half of his head was suddenly cut off by a hand. You frown at Akaza, who seemed very angry at seeing Douma that close to you. Douma's head regenerated fast, his charismatic smile never leaving his features.

"Why are you proposing her marriage?"

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. What the hell is your problem? I'm not going to let you put strange ideas into her innocent mind."

Akaza opened his arms at you so you could climb into him, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Little misfortune was feeling lonely and hated, so I simply made her feel happier. Now let me hold her" Douma tried to take you to him, but Akaza's grip on you was stronger.

"You try to make her feel happier by proposing? Also, you only eat women, why would I let you near (Name)?"

"Well, she's not human!"

"Can I marry you too?" you ask above the discussion, your voice silencing the both of them. You pulled away a little bit from Akaza's hold to look at him in the eye. "When I grow up, can I marry you too?"

Akaza's concerned look grew bigger by the second. Douma had an amused expression, holding in laugher. Akaza's gaze shifted from Douma to you, not knowing what to say. His face told a different story than you had intended. You leaped away from them, tears floading down your face again.

"Then I'll be alone my entire life!"

You started escaping again, covering your face with your hands. The upper moons attempted to use their arts to get you back, but failed as yours contradicted their use.

Douma sighed, then turned towards Akaza with a smile from ear to ear.

"You're not a great liar, are you?"

After running around all day, your energy was so low that you could barely walk without dragging your feet. Loneliness was the strongest and most shocking feeling you'd gotten in the seven years you had been alive. No mother, no siblings, only a father who'd mostly be working and babysitters who hated your guts. Facing the ground, lips curved downwards, you clearly weren't expecting crashing with something. Or more accurately, someone's legs.

It was Muzan, his stern expression changing into a softer one when he saw your defeated state. He opened his arms to engulf you into a hug, so you jumped at him with the strength you had left.

"I'm sorry, I felt lonely!"

"Why is that? You always have an upper moon to take care of you" he walked towards your room as he caressed your hair.

"But they hate me!"

"They don't hate you. Kokushibo's always worried about your health and safety. Gyokko and Hantengu try to enhance your talents in art since they know how much you love it. Gyutaro likes to make you laugh, and while Daki acts as if she hates you, she sew you a stuffed animal for your birthday by herself knowing that other stores didn't buy the plush you wanted. Douma plays with you all the time, of course he loves you. And Akaza is always there to keep him from crossing the line. They don't hate you, they are your family." he tucked you in your bed, a smile reaching his lips before you closed your eyes in order to sleep.

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"As I love you too."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

Text

Damirae Week 2021 - Day 7 (Part 2)

“Finding Our Happily Ever After: Part 2” Day 7: Soulmates

The darkness subsided around Raven as it disappears back into the ground. Raven looked up to see they had all been transported outside the castle’s main doors. The late afternoon sun had been covered by dark gloomy clouds. In the distance thunder could be heard signaling the start of a storm. The large marble doors opened slowly revealing Damian’s family all standing there, shocked and scared to the sight before them. A teary-eyed Raven holding onto a lifeless beast, their brother.

Dick reached a hand but was stop by an invisible wall impeding him to exit the castle. “Raven, is he… Damian don’t leave us.” Everyone brought their hands up to join Dick’s, together they pressed against the invisible wall. It all they could do for Damian.

Raven sobbed quietly as she cradled Damian’s head in her small hands. “Not too hard.” She gasped, she looked down as Damian tried to chuckle and smirk at her. Being as gentle as she could, she placed his head back down, hoping to provide him some small comfort.

“Damian? I… I don’t know what to do. You got hurt because of me… I-”

Damian lifted his large paw and caressed her cheek as he wipes some of her tears. “Shh… cough...you’re safe that’s all that matters, I would… do it again for you.”

“Just hold on, we can find some medicine, anythingand you will see, you’ll be better in no time.” Someone please help us.Raven prayed, she wanted to drag Damian back inside the castle and tend to his wounds but feared if she moved an inch he could be in more pain. As Raven continue to ponder what she could do, she hadn’t notice Damian had been speaking softly at her.

“Perhaps this is for the best, part of me knew I wouldn’t be allowed to feel what I’m feeling… you changed my perspective, made me want to hope for the tomorrow… if this is my end then I am glad that… I got to see you… once last time.” In the distance lighting struck the earth, making it tremble, bringing a heavy down pour.

Raven couldn’t hold her tears, as they slipped down her wet cheeks, she grabbed Damian’s paw in her hands and held it close to her face. “No, no, no! Please! Don’t leave me, not when I found what I have been looking for. Please stay, I want to read more books with you. I want to cook alongside you, to learn more about your family and you.Damian, I want to… stay.”

Damian both smiled and grunted painfully as he tried to laugh happily at her confession.“Raven. The castle is your home…” Damian slowly glanced and watched his family as they started to frantically pounded the invisible wall. He turned to gaze at Raven with a small weak smile, “Take care of them for me… and take care of Titus, he will need someone… he will need you-”

“Don’t you dare say things like that! I won’t allow it; you hear me you… you… jerk! Don’t you dare die on me!”

Damian lightly chuckled, “There’s that hot-head-strong-woman I met long ago, that’s one thing I like about you. Your independence to take action into your own hands, your will to not be taken for granted, and the immense compassion you showed to creatures of nightmares, like myself… it one of the reasons why I… fell in love with you.” With that Damian gave his last breath and his paw fell to his side, his green eyes closing forever.

“I fell in love with you as well.” Raven gently picked up Damian’s head and hugged it tightly in her arms. He was stone cold.Feeling no warmth, no life, Raven cried again.

~~~ ~~

The rain continues to pour harshly against them, the rest of the Wayne family quietly sobbed as they mourned the loss of their youngest member. Kori wrapped her arms around Dick, burying her face against his back, Jason, kept his arms around Cass, Stephanie, and Tim who wept into their hands.

Without realizing it, Raven started to emit a strange white glow, she had her eyes closed impeding her to notice it herself. The one to notice it was Dick who gaze widen, as the glow continue to expand and soon engulf the two young people. Everyone stared at it as the blinding white light took shape, a white raven. It rose high spreading it enormous wings, shrieking to the heavens above, exploding into stardust.

~~~ ~~

Raven had suddenly felt like she had been reborn. The last thing she remembered was feeling complete sorrow overtaken her body, the next she knew was feeling a sense of warmth, the kind you expect from a mother. She had her eyes closed, but she distinctly could notice the world outside become rather lit. Raven pulled away and opened her eyes. The rain had suddenly subsided, but the sky was still dark and gloomy. Her dress had been transformed to a simple white silk dress, attached with a white cape. She no longer had pearl-like skin but fair that held the sun’s light and warmth. As her gaze looked towards what she had been holding, Raven couldn’t help but gasp and widen her eyes. She felt her heart beat faster and her breath had been caught in her throat.

Raven couldn’t believe her eyes.

There in front of her, what had been a beast laying before her was now a young man.His well-perfectly sculpted chest was bare, the only thing keeping him from being completely nude was a pair of black worn out trousers. Carefully Raven extended her hand to touch his face. The man with golden olive skin, and sleek black hair stirred in his sleep making Raven pulled away from him. The strange handsomeman soon opened his eyes, gazing up into the skies above, he looked awestruck, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to see the sky again. He then slowly turned to lock eyes with her.

Raven could feel her heart quickening again inside of her, her insides turning all over the place. This man, this mysterious man who appeared out of nowhere, had the same eyes like him.Emerald. He then sat up and smiled warmly at Raven. He reached for her hands and brought her closer to him. Raven quietly continue to study him.

“Raven, it’s me… Damian.” The strange man finally spoke, though his voice sounded different than the beast she had come to hold dear in her heart.

Raven continue to stare and study his face. She kept coming back to his eyes. Thoseeyes, the ones that seemed to be filled with a fresh pine forest, the ones who knew her fears and had seen her for who she truly was. Timidly she raised a hand and ran her slender fingers though his locks of black hair, then she watched as he reacted to her touch. He eyes closed for a moment almost as if he found pleasure and warmth through this single action. It was the same way; Beast Damian had acted towards her.

Raven smiled and carefully caressed his cheek, “It is you.”

Damian smiled, her Damiansmiled at her, he lifted her chin and leaned closer to her, “my love” he declared before bringing his lips onto hers. Raven melted into his touch; she wrapped her hands around his neck never wanting to leave this moment. He was her air, her life as much as he needed her to hope for the new day. Together they had become the rainbow that appeared after a dark storm. They were both light and day, contemplating one another.

They pulled away from each other, catching their breaths. Damian slowly stood and extended his hand for her to take. He brought her to stand next to him and hugged her tightly against him.

“You done well, my child.”Both Damian and Raven turned to find a woman dressed in white hooded – cloak who stood at the end of the concrete staircase to ascend to the castle.

“It’s you again.” Raven added as she remember the strange messenger she had been visited in her dreams.

The woman only smiled underneath her hood, “It’s time to shed some light into this darkness. Our mother of the netherworld has given you her blessing, Raven.”

Raven looked at Damian who gazed at her with a confuse face wondering what the strange woman meant. She smiled at him, then lifted her hand and muttered; “Azarath… Metrion… Zindos.”

Her fingertips emitted a strange purple glow, a beam shot straight up and pierced the dark, gloomy sky. As it broke free, sunlight started to pour through the opening and little by little the dark storm clouds started to disperse. At this, Raven’s own magic erupted at the top of the castle’s towers transforming it darken state and bringing it to life. The hideous gargoyles that sat on the ledges were transformed into fierce roaring winged lions. The magic continues to travel down, opening every window, as it made it to the main doors. A great gust of wind came rushing from the inside, pushing Damian’s siblings to the outside. They no longer held a spiritual form but a physical; skins and bones. They all erupted into laughter as they ran towards Damian and Raven as they huddle for a group hug. Titus who had been standing along side them was lifted a few feet off the ground and transformed back to it’s original form. A large-healthy adult Great Dane. A healed Sombra flew in, perching itself onto Titus’s back.

Light had returned to the castle for good and the curse had been lifted, Raven feeling overwhelmed with utter joy turned around to notice the white cloaked woman had started walking away from the castle. “Wait!” Raven called out, Damian took a step back and gesture to his family to give Raven a little room as she walked down some steps to approach the strange woman. “You’re Arella, my mother? I was looking for your home-”

“And you found it. Azarath, is with you as you chant its name. Call upon it whenever you need to release the light from our world and share it with those you meet.” The woman continues to smile as she lifted her head and met Raven’s amethyst eyes with her own. “I am very proud of you Raven, be happy.” Arella then gestured towards Damian who came to stand next to her daughter. “You take good care of my girl.”

“I will madam.” Damian bowed as he clasped his hand with Raven’s. Arella bowed at them both before turning around and disappeared into a silver mist. The two young lovers turned back to regroup with the rest of the family when-

“Damian.”

Turning around, they saw two older men standing side by side. Raven noticed Damian’s chest was rising as he was containing his excitement. He quickly glanced at her and Raven nodded at him. Damian let go of her hand and dashed down the last few steps before calling; “Father… Alfred!” The rest of his siblings ran down to join him, at the last step Dick jumped rather high almost as he wanted to take off in flight. Though gravity pulled him down too quickly landing straight on his face. Did he forget he was no longer a spirt? Raven thought to herself as she winced for Dick.

“It’s good to see you all.” King Bruce called as he and Alfred took turns to hug everyone. Raven couldn’t help but compare how much Damian resemble him. She then noticed that the older king was studying her quite a while. “You must be the one and only Raven.”

Raven jerked at the mention of her name and bow, before descending down the stairs and standing next to Damian. “Yes… your highness-”

“None of that my dear, just call me Bruce.”

“Understood, Bruce, how did you know who I am?”

The much older man, known as Alfred bowed towards her, “Allow me to answer that, Miss Raven, the young master Damian would come to the gardens and visit us. He would talk to our stone-selves, updating us on what was happening inside. Lately we been hearing stories about the wonderful young girl who suddenly brought warmth to our rather loudfamily.” Alfred answered.

“Wait- you actually heard everything Damian was telling you?” Jason inquired as his face turned to worry one, fearing Damian may had tattled on any mischiefs any of them may have causes over the years.

Bruce scoffed, “Oh, for goodness sake Jason, we were turned to stone not dead!By the way whose idea was it to place us in the garden? We were perfect targets for birds and their droppings!”

Without even giving it a second everyone immediately pointed at Dick, he turned her head glancing at his family’s betrayal. “I thought you would had liked staying outside… well Dami wanted to keep you in your room where you surely collect dust!”

~~ ~~

“Everyone erupted in laughter, for the cursed-royal family have been liberated from their long dark enchantment. As for our purple-eye heroine, well let’s say she found her forever home and a family who wanted her. She married the young prince and the two lived happily ever after, ruling gracefully for many years.” Raven sighed heavily as she finished her story. She clasped her hands together and gaze at the two children listening to her tale. “So, did you two enjoy the story?”

“Very much, mommy!” The youngest of the two answered as she held her stuffed bear closely to her chest. Her name was Arella Roth-Wayne, she was just five years old, she had her mother’s beauty, her skin and hair were just like Raven’s. Arella had her father’s eyes. She was a good nature child always wanted to help any woodland creature she came across.

“I enjoyed it, thank you mother.” The eldest answered rather politely, speaking very much just like father. Derek Roth-Wayne, who was eight but spoke like he was older for his age was very protected of his youngest sister. He was the spitting image of his father, olive skin, black hair as night, his eyes were amethyst just like his mother’s.

Raven tucked the bed sheets around them, she smooth the blankets, “well we had a deal; I tell you a story and you two would go to sleep.”

“Who’s not going to sleep?”

“Papa!” The two children chimed together as their father and Raven’s husbandcame walking into the bedroom. He was followed by their most loyal and the family’s royal pets, Titus and Sombra.

“Are you two not listening to your mother?” Damian asked as he stood behind Raven and gave her a quick peck at the top of her head.

“On the contrary dear, I told them a bedtime story to get them to sleep.” Raven added as she stood and wrap around an arm around Damian’s waist as they looked at their children.

“Oh, and what story was your lovely mother telling you.”

“The one about the cursed family and the pretty lady that came to rescue them!” Arella said happily.

Derek watched with enthusiasm as he nodded to his sister’s statement, and added himself; “There’s also a prince who was turned into a beast, he didn’t trust any stranger but soon came to fall in love with the maiden that would free his family from the curse.”

“Oh, that story, I don’t think I have ever heard it. I am going to have you two to tell me, but I believe now its time for you two to go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow your uncle Todd, Cass, and Drake are coming for a visit.” Damian added, he awaited until both his children nodded at his remark.

With that Raven finished tucking her children and the two parents kissed them goodnight. Titus leapt onto the bed and dozed up into a deep sleep, as for Sombra he flew to a nearby wooden perch. The two pets cared for the children, Titus made sure to keep Arella out of trouble and Sombra accompanied Derek and Bruce on many adventures around Wayne Castle. Damian grabbed Raven’s hand and lead her outside of their children’s bedroom and walked her down the hallway towards their own bedroom.

After the curse, she and Damian married, two years later they welcomed their first born. After the curse, Jason, Tim, and Cass became witch hunters to imprison and stop any witch who wanted to use their magic for evil. Dick and Kori left Wayne castle after they were married and decided to travel around the world, they made sure to visit the family as they would bring gifts for their niece and nephew. As for Stephanie, she picked up some tricks from Kori to design and create dresses. She reopened Kori old shop as the kingdom of Gotham had suddenly reappeared and their people seemed to have returned from an unknown sleep.

Raven stopped and looked outside as fresh snow started to fall over the castle. She could already imagine what they could do together with the whole family. A day out in the snow and having fun with one another. Damian noticed his wife and walked back to her, looking out the window with her.

“What do you suppose would happen if our children found out I was the beast in your story.”

“Then they will know why I love you so much.”

“Well, I am glad that part of our chapter is over.” Damian chuckled lightly.

“You think so? There are some traits you kept from the beast… ones I don’t mind.” Raven slowly leaned against Damian’s chest as she lightly trailed a fingertip across his chest.

“Oh? Pray tell my love, what are those traits?”

“I seem to recall on our wedding night, you roared in our bed and I’ve caught you growling sometimes.”

Damian smirked, showing his white brilliant teeth and he let out a small growl and leaned in to kiss his wife. Raven smiled and melted into his arms. This fantasy she had been given was a blessing, one Raven would cherish and protect. She found her happily ever after but everyday felt like a new chapter, one she gladly would walk through as long as she had Damian by her side. She had been his beauty and he her beast.

The End.

#damirae week 2021 #damirae week #beauty and the beast au #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and damian #damian and raven #day 7 #soulmates

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lunarianillusion · 3 years

Text

A change in fate

a maribat fanfic

Chapter 02

Along with the changes to her room, Marinette had also changed her wardrobe. She now wore a cropped baby blue hoodie over a grey-purple shirt, that matched her leggings. Over her leggings she wore a high waisted demin coloured skirt with matching heeled ankle boots. A new larger purse, more a satchel really, hung from her shoulder. It allowed her to carry her sketchbook and other tools more easily. Her hair now mostly hung lose over her shoulders with two braids coming from the sides and connecting at the back of her head.

Once she was ready Marinette walked at an easy pace to the agreed meeting spot. Duusu Had taken to hiding within her hood, so that they could drink in all of the sights. Being both not used for a hundred or so years and being broken, made this a real treat for the little peafowl. Marinette could practically feel the little god vibrating with joy, to be outside in the world again.

The sun was shining through the clouds and a soft breeze made the early autumn leaves rustle in the trees, as the two reached the park. Marinette could already spot the red-haired omega sitting on a bench close to the pond in the shade of a willow tree. He was fidgeting with a pencil and his sketch book lay on his lap. His posture looked tense.

By the look of it he too had a wardrobe change. Marinette was gonna bet that Marc had helped with the ensemble. Those two were inseparable. He wore a white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt with grey stripes on his chest. Faded navy pants and a jacked tied around his waist. A black and white backpack with rainbow details sat beside him.

“Hey, Nathaniel,” Marinette called out, gaining said boy’s attention as she neared.

“Hey, Marinette,” Nathaniel greeted, his shoulders losing the smallest amount of tension. “Glad you could come. I hope you weren’t too busy.”

“Circumstances made it so that I had nothing scheduled today. But I do hope you were not lying about it being important. Otherwise I will send the Fury’s of art upon thee,” The blue-eyed girl exclaimed in a posh voice. Marinette hoped that it would lighten some of the tension that was flowing through the air and it seemed to work. There was no need for an Akuma today.

“Oh, I beg mercy of thee. Do not condemn me to such a fate, for I would not dare to break my vow,” Nathaniel exclaimed in kind, placing his hand on his heart. It made both of the omegas chuckle and the hidden kwami purr softly.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Marinette asked, as nonchalant as possible. As she sat down on the bench and pulled out a thermos from her satchel. Which held the gods elixir, coffee. “It sounded quite urgent from your text.”

“Yeah, it is,” Nathaniel said sheepishly, scratching his neck. “But it is not an easy subject to start a conversation with. Or to talk about in general, I believe. So, let me first ask you how you are feeling. I know you have probably had this question asked to many times already. But I know what it is like to be akumatized and of the nightmares that follow so don’t try to say that all is just hunky-dory great.”

Marinette hummed at his words, raising an amused eyebrow at the last bit. Before turning her gaze away from the redhead. Her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any uninvited guests. While she knew Nathaniel would keep to his word the scent anxiety kept her slightly on edge. Paranoia had settled deep into her over the past few years. Only the little hidden kwami’s presence was what kept her calm. For Duusu would inform her if someone with bad intentions was to come close.

After a moment of thought Marinette answered. “I was a bit shaken after the whole event, who wouldn’t? All considered though, I think I am doing pretty good.”

After the whole reveal of her being a true soul, Duusu had helped sort out her emotions. They had given her a few suggestions on how to more healthily coupe with the more negative ones. Who knew writing your problems down on a slip of paper and then watching it burn could be so therapeutic.

She turned her gaze back to Nathaniel. “As for the subject of our meeting. Just be blunt about and we will go from there. Keeping it bottled up and it will only stress you out over time and I really don’t wanna deal with an akuma right now,” She accentuated the last part of her statement.

“Yeah, that would really kill the mood wouldn’t it,” Nathaniel sighed. He took a small breath to collect his courage as Marinette took another sip of her coffee. Then Nathaniel bluntly stated: “I know that you are the original ladybug.”

Cue spit-take from Marinette. Mental panic has reached its peak! Abort!! ABORT!!!

“Uhm…I don’t know wha-”

“Don’t even try Marinette. The amount of times I saw ladybug land on your balcony only for you to leave through the front door and vice versa. Was a big enough give away. After that your physiques just matched up,” Nathaniel boldly interrupted. Leaving Marinette in a stunned wide-eyed stare. “Hey, I might not be a fashion designer, but I am an artist and have an eye for these details just like you.” He said quickly with a small stutter. Since he was feeling a little unnerved at her wide-eyed stare. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

“How long have you known?” The female omega asked tentively, her scent spiked with anxiety. Her body language screamed that she was ready to bolt.

“For maybe seven months now,” Nathaniel replied carefully.

“Did you tell anyone?” Marinette asked further, the tension not leaving her.

“I told no one, not even Marc. I know of the importance and reasons behind a hero’s secret identity,” Nathaniel told her sincerely, allowing Marinette to breathe a small sigh of relief. The redhead then let out a small growl of annoyance. “Unlike a certain tabloid reporter and two-faced liar.” Now that that really got the noir haired girl’s attention even more than him knowing her secret.

“The spell broke,” Marinette whispered as his words settled into her brain as her eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, in surprise. While she had been frightened at the fact of him knowing her secret, but he had not told anyone. She could tell that he was honest in the fact that he had not told anyone. Since otherwise her identity would have probably been public news by now. Secrets like this would spread around like wildfire with the slightest slip off the tongue.

So, she was now more interested in the fact that he called Rossi a liar. It meant that he had broken through her spell and she wanted to know how he came to this revelation. Had it come after he had fond out about her hidden I.D. or was it something else. She was practically vibrating with a curious need to know and asked him about it.

Nathaniel turned his eyes to the sky, several emotions running trough them. Most prominent was the look of shame and pain. “It did weaken her hold over me, but what really made me realise she was a liar was when she promised to introduce me to one of my idols. One I know to have passed away. I won’t say their name, but that really broke the illusion for me,” He spoke bitterly.

Marinette let out a pained hiss at that. Knowing how painful it is to have someone disrespect your inspirational idols in that manner. She softly rubbed his shoulder in comfort and gave a small apology. Nathaniel let out a gloomy laugh and turned his eyes to the ground. “You have nothing to apologize for Marinette. I should be the one to apologize. For never mastering up the courage to stand up for you even after I realized Lie-la’s grandeur was nothing more than empty words. And I am truly sorry for that. Because after everything you have helped me with, I really should have.”

Marinette felt her heart flutter at his apology and then he just kept on rambling about how he should have stood up for her. How he should have trusted her. Making her feel hot tears gather in her eyes. She had waited so long to have one of her friends back and here was one. Trying his best to make amends and unlike the rest of her class, he had never hurt her in the same way the others had. He always remained kind to her even before he knew of her secret. He may have been afraid to stand up but did not try to ruin her life like the others. So, she had no trouble pulling him into a hug. At first it shocked the boy, but he gratefully returned the gesture.

“Don’t blame yourself. You did not do anything wrong. You did not turn your back to me like the others did. I don’t blame you for not standing up against Rossi. You would have only painted a target on your back, and she would have made you feel miserable. Like with me,” Marinette whispered. “And I need to thank you for keeping my secret all this time. It means the world to me.” Nathaniel tightened his hold on the girl as a few tears of relief and gratitude fell from his eyes, as the words left her mouth. Duusu nuzzled against her neck in comfort. A feeling of pride washing over the kwami of emotion at his little bird.

_____________________________________________________________________

After they let go of each other they settled back into more comfortable sitting positions. The atmosphere feeling lighter than it had been around them for a long while.

“If it is okay to ask,” Nathaniel spoke carefully. “Is the new ladybug permanent? Because if I am being honest, I don’t really trust her.”

Marinette let outa pained sigh. “I made a grave mistake and because of that this new ladybug has the ladybug miraculous. I don’t know how to rectify this mistake, but I will find a way. That is a promise.”

“You always find a way,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll keep my eyes open as well. I might not be the bravest, but I want to help. After everything I need to help. Even the tiniest bit.” Marinette wanted to say he did not have to. He did not let her say it. “You have forgiven me, but now I need to forgive myself. So let me help. Paris is my home to.”

It made Marinette smile as she felt the sincere emotion and determination flood of her fellow omega. “Now if only I knew how Lie-la is capable of keeping our classmates and others at her bag and call. That might help take bit of stress of my back,” She sighed. Her eyes scanning the sky, hoping it held the answers.

This made Nathaniel scratch his neck again sheepishly. “Marc and I may have a theory on how she keeps everyone under her spell, actually,” He mumbled off.

Marinette whipped around so fast it was a wonder she did not get any whiplash. She grabbed the redhead’s shoulders and looked straight into his turquoise eyes. Her own silvery blue crystal eyes were ablaze with a cold fire. “Please explain how that two-faced bitch is killing all the fucking braincells of the people around us and turning them into fucking sheep,” Her voice had an icy chill to it that sent shivers up the Nathaniel’s spine.

“I didn’t know you could curse,” Nathaniel said trying to curl away from the internally raging female omega.

It resulted in Marinette raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Trust me when I say Chloe can swear like a bloody sailor. So, I learned a few things from her,” She huffed a small smirk on her face. She then let go of his shoulders, giving the redhead some room to breath, as a curios gaze replaced the once cold fire. “Please share. My curiosity is going to kill me.”

Before Nathaniel could start telling her about the theory however, a loud explosion penetrated the air. Both omegas turned to the source of the sound. A good distance away they saw a person a top a glider. They cackled madly as they threw loud explosives around.

Really Hawkmoth, can’t they have one day of peace?

The answer: Nope.

“How about we continue this conversation tomorrow over lunch. Chloe and Marc can join in on the theory. I do believe Chloe will be thrilled to know how Lie-la is capable of maintaining the utterly ridiculous situation at school,” Marinette proposed. Her eyes never leaving the new akuma.

“You are going to investigate, aren’t you?” Nathaniel asked nervously. Marinette simply nodded not looking at him. He sighed, “I won’t be able to change your mind, will I? How can I help?”

“It would be best for you to get to safety,” Marinette advised. Turning to look him directly in the eye and stopping him from objecting. “You have no need to worry about me. I still have an ace up my sleeve. So, trust me,” She assured with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Nathaniel stared uneasily at his fellow omega before nodding. “Alright but be careful, okay, I better see you at school tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said before grabbing his stuff and turning away to go to one of the akuma shelters. Leaving Marinette alone.

Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, to make sure the coast was clear, she asked Duusu to come out. “Are you ready?” the little god asked. Marinette smirked in reply. Let’s see what they were capable of.

“Duusu, Spread my Feathers”

Authors note: hey i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. a few people have been asking me about adding them to my taglist and being honest i am not sure of how to do that. i am still very new with tumblr, but once i finally stop being dumb i'll be sure to do that. i hope you will stick around to the rest of the story. stay save.

#maribat #timari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #nathaniel kurtzberg #ml duusu #duusu #miraculous ladybug #peacock miraculous #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

That Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I am currently struggling through my monthly nightmare and had a rough time of it yesterday. Never have any of my past boyfriends ever been nice or considerate about it, so I wrote this to compensate lol.

As always, send any comments, requests, and/or suggestions you may have! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily @breakablebarnes

—————————————

Bucky’s heart rate quickened as he walked into your bedroom and saw you curled up in the fetal position on the bed, eyes closed and brow furrowed. “Woah, woah, hey,” he murmured, taking quick steps toward you and leaning over your tense body. “Are you okay, baby?” Your eyes opened and found Bucky’s stormy blue ones staring down at you, swimming in a pool of worry.

“Having a uterus is a fucking scam”, you muttered. Bucky’s head cocked to the side absentmindedly, and you saw confusion color his face. “I’m on my period, Buck.” A knowing look crossed his face and a bit-but not all- of the concern melted away. “Ohhhh, right. I’m sorry, sweets.” You shrugged, acting as though it didn’t feel like your insides were being relentlessly poked with hot pitchforks. “It’s fine- nothing I’m not used to”, you murmured, closing your eyes once again.

“Well is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, stroking your leg lightly. Asking Bucky for help wasnt something you liked to do; his life was hectic enough as it was and he’d gotten back from a long, tiring mission just two days ago. The last thing you wanted to do was make him wait on you hand and foot while you complained. But when your cramps had hit you earlier that afternoon, you’d been so incapacitated that you’d been unable to grab your heating pad or any form of pain relievers.

“Um, could you just grab me some ibuprofen? And my heating pad- it’s in the closet, second shelf to your left”. He nodded and stood up, pressing a kiss to your cheek before securing the items you’d asked for. He plugged in your heating pad, turned it on, and handed it to you before giving you two ibuprofen your water bottle, waiting for you to finish so he could place the bottle back on your bedside table. “Thanks, Buck,” you murmured, staring up at him in adoration. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to sit here with me”.

He rolled his eyes at you with a loving smile and stayed right where he was, not moving from his position. “Did you eat when you got home?” he asked. You shook your head, remembering that you’d been in way too much pain to even think about food when you got home from work. Bucky sighed; he hated that, even though you took amazing care of him, you never did the same for yourself. “What are you in the mood for, doll? I’ll make you anything you want…and if I can’t make it, I’ll order it” he said with a chuckle.

You were quiet for a moment, mulling over your favorites in search of something that sounded good. “Ohhhh, I could really go for chicken biryani from that place downtown- Clay Pit” you stated, before adding- “extra naan”. He nodded, grabbing his phone and making a call to the restaurant to get you what you craved. After ordering your biryani, extra naan, and some saag for himself, he crawled onto his side of the bed. “Alright, food’s gonna be about half an hour,” he stated, “anything you wanna watch? Or would you prefer it quiet?”

A smile tugged upward at the corners of your lips and you slowly rolled over toward Bucky, letting out a quiet groan as you did so. “Um, I’m kind of in the mood to watch this one movie…but it’s 100% a chick flick” you murmured. He laughed and reached for the Apple TV remote, waiting for you to tell him the title. “It’s called John Tucker Must Die”. He cocked an eyebrow at you before typing in the name and pressing play.

The opening credits rolled and you leaned into a Bucky’s side, letting him weave his strong, metal arm around you. The familiar movie always brought you comfort, reminding you of sleepovers with your high school best friends-but nothing, you realized, had ever brought you as much comfort as Bucky.

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wannajointhecrabcult · 4 years

Text

Reckless Rescuer

I literally just came up with this idea at midnight last night when I was just starting to go into fever dream mode so... This will be interesting. You asked to be tagged so here you go @justconfusedperiod!

Imagine that Marinette never became Ladybug.

Master Fu chose actual adults to go save Paris while Sabine and Tom gave Marinette combat training.

Despite not being a hero Marinette was still caught up in a lot of akuma attacks (Because Hawkmoth is a bitter ass) so she learned how to use everything and anything to her advantage.

Even though she's crafty Marinette still dies in akuma attacks and gets revived by the Miraculous Cure at the end of the day.

As sad as it is, she becomes used to dying.

That doesn't mean that she TRIES to get hurt during attacks, it just means that she expects her life to end one day because of an akuma or something and for her to not come back, so dying isn't a fear for her anymore.

She also builds a tolerance for pain during attacks where she doesn't die, but still gets very injured.

It's amazing how trauma can practically destroy someone's life while others are just so desensitized that it doesn't affect them anymore.

One day the Dupain-Chengs move to Gotham to both expand their business, and to get away from a certain magic fueled fashion disaster.

I mean, seriously.

You're supposed to be a designer but here you are walking around looking like a cardboard candy cane beige toothpick of a man.

Don't get me started on what the heck happened with Hawkmoth's costume.

What is that?

Are you wearing a silver condom on your head or what??

Anyways, Marinette attends Damian's school and they bond over being the only one's not overly worried about danger in certain situations.

At one point Damian thought that she might have been a hero or something but threw that thought away when he witnessed her somehow fall UP a staircase. (I've actually done this before. Surprisingly it's pretty fun.)

All was fine and dandy until one afternoon when they were walking to Neti's place after school to work on a project.

They were walking through a less populated part of the city and were passing a shoe store when two thugs held them at a gunpoint demanding for their cash.

The youngest Wayne was fully prepared to attack the men when Marinette started scolding them for being rude?

Marinette: Hey! You can't just do that! Do you know how rude it is to interrupt someone's conversation?! Apologize right and leave us alone right now OR ELSE.

The two men just looked at her for a moment before doubling over and bursting out in laughter.

After all, what can this tiny school girl do to hurt them?

The first guy calmed down and was about to threaten them again when all of a sudden a pink flat was thrown at his face.

Because of he was unprepared and because of the force behind the flying shoe, he was knocked over and fell to the floor with a thud.

The second guys turned to look at the girl who just threw her shoe at his partner when he was suddenly wacked in the face as well.

So there they were.

Two teenagers, one with no shoes on, in front of a show store with two thugs at their feet.

Truly a sight to behold.

Marinette turns to Damian and asks him for his shoes.

When he doesn't respond (he's in shock) Marinette just shrugs, turns around, and SMASHES HER ARM THROUGH THE GLASS WINDOW OF THE SHOE STORE TO GRAB A CROC AND CHUCK IT AT THE FIRST GUY AGAIN BECAUSE HE WAS GETTING UP.

She then turns to the second dude who was on his knees and says in a dark tone, "You better go and leave us alone before I get my hands on a pair of iceskates. Got it?"

He nods his head and scrambles to run away from the short girl with pigtails that just single handedly smashed her arm through glass and was somehow not wincing in pain from her many bleeding cuts and she threw shoes at them.

His partner frantically got to his feet and followed him.

After making sure that the two would-be-muggers are far away Mari turns to Damian and waves her still bleeding hand in front of his face.

"Heelllooooo? Anybody home?"

She then shakes his shoulders a bit.

Damian, now no longer in shock, starts freaking out about her injuries.

"oh...my...gosh....oh my gosh... oH MY GOSH YOU'RE BLEEDING EVERYWHERE!! OHMYGOSH THAT WAS SO RECKLESS OF YOU, YOU COULD HAVE DIED AND OH NO YOU JUST STRAIGHT UP BROKE A GLASS WINDOW WITH YOUR BARE HANDS!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU'RE HURT! WE NEED TO GETYOUFIRSTAIDOHMYGOSH!!!"

She tries to get him to calm down but that honestly makes him freak out even more.

"HOW ARE YOU NOT REACTING TO THE PAIN OF CUTTING YOUR ARM WITH MULTIPLE PIECES OF GLASS?!? YOU FREAKING THREW SHOES AT THEM! SHOES! WHAT IF YOU FREAKING DIED FROM THAT?!?"

"Well that would make it the 2615th time."

"...."

"....."

"Excuse me but wHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT WOULD'VE BEEN THE 2615TH TIME YOU DIED?!??!??"

Marinette was trying to get him to breathe since he was almost on the verge of a panic attack when the owner of the shoe store came out with a first aid kit.

The elderly woman proceeded to patch up Marinette's arm while thanking her for scaring away the muggers.

"Those two just keep scaring the customers away so I cannot thank you dearie enough!"

"Oh, it was no problem ma'am. They really needed to learn some manners anyways!"

"They really are so rude aren't they. And there we go! Your arm is all bandaged up. I would be careful with it if I were you."

She old lady then turns to Damian who has calmed down a bit now that Marinette's arm is bandaged.

"You've got quite a wild girlfriend here. Be sure to watch out for her safety or else you're gonna lose her."

That causes the two teens faces to burn red.

"Oh no you've got it wrong. She's not my girlfriend although I do agree that I should start looking out far her health more." He turns to Marinette as he says the last bit.

She just replies with a sheepish smile and a shrug.

"She's definitely going to give me gray hairs early."

The store owner gave Marinette and Damian a knowing look before sending the two on their way.

On the walk to Marinette's house Damian kept scolding her for her brash decisions and worrying over her arm at the same time.

At one point Damian asked her if she could actually feel the pain from her cuts or not and she just replied with "I got injured a lot when I lived in Paris so I have a high pain tolerance. This isn't even the worst wound I've ever gotten."

Needless to say, that did not reassure Damian at all.

When they did reach their destination they ended up deciding to finish the project on another day to let Marinette's arm heal a bit.

He calls Alfred to pick him up and when faced with the butler's questioning stare he just replies with "Too much excitement for today."

Before the limo drove off Marinette ran outside to the car and handed Damian a bag full of pastries.

"Consider this an apology for making you freak out so much."

He nodded and took the bag but still told her "You're an idiot you know right?"

"Haha. Or so I've been told." She shrugs. "See you tomorrow in class if you're not too traumatized!"

"Tt. We live in Gotham. It's gonna take more than that to truly scar me. Although I have to say, that's the closest someone's gotten in a long time. Don't do it again."

"No promises!" Marinette yells as the limo drives off.

That night Damian got a nightmare filled with shoes.

Marinette is now known and feared throughout the more amateur criminal community.

True to her word, Marinette tried to reduce the amount of risky choices that she took.

I mean, there was that incident with the llamas, trumpets, and skateboards but we don't talk about that.

Her safety streak ended when Damian was kidnapped.

And by the Joker no less.

Ya, no.

She's not just gonna stand by while her friend litteraly gets kidnapped by a clown man thing when she could do something about it.

The Joker called the Waynes through a video chat and threatens the dump Damian into a pool filled with unidentified and possibly contaminated water until they give him half a million dollars.

And because it's a two way video chat and all of the Waynes (except Damian) are there they can't 'call the batfam' to save him.

Because they were all so busy panicking and Joker was busy laughing, no one but Damian noticed a dark silhouette sneaking around in the shadows.

The moment he saw them he immediately knew who it was.

'Oh no. ThaT'S MY IDIOT!!'

Marinette noticed Damian's panicked stare on her and just, gave him a thumbs up? Before going back into the darkness.

'Oh no oh no ohnoohnononono what's she doing?!' He thought to himself as he heard quiet shuffling in the shadows.

Going back to the screen, Bruce was about to send the money when all of a sudden a bright light was turned on from behind the Joker to the left.

And they weren't expecting what they saw.

There under the light was someone in a Barney the Dinosaur costume sitting in a rainbow bumper car with a radio and a bag filled with something strapped in the passenger side.

TrULy RaDiAnT.

The purple dino turned on the radio, (which was playing the Barney theme song) made eye contact with the clown, and promptly said "Beep beep bitch." in a robotic voice (there was a voice changer in the costume) before driving full speed at him.

At first the Joker tried to run away from the vehicle but for some reason the bumper car was extremely fast and RAN HIM OVER before turning around,

AND FUCKING DOING IT AGAIN!!

Double oof.

They did this around 12 times before the Joker managed to push up from under the bumper car at the perfect time.

Marinette did a backflip (dramatics are guaranteed) as she jumped out of the rainbow ride while simultaneously throwing the radio at the Joker at full force.

The Joker, not expecting that, was thrown against the base of a wall.

He got up just in time to see his attacker pull out a shoe from the bag and chuck it at his nuts.

*cue everyone either laughing at his pain or wincing in sympathy*

The Barney pulls out a sandal from the bag and throws it at his face and uses a black stiletto to pin the clown's arm tO THE FRIGGING WALL when he reaches to touch where the flip flop hit him.

(Is there a difference between sandals and flip flops?)

She then uses another stiletto (a red one this time) to pin his other arm and pulls out YET ANOTHER SHOE (a rainboot) to hit his face.

...again....

This time he gets knocked out though so there's that.

...

....

.....

The power of FOOTWEAR!!

The purple and green dinosaur goes to untie Damian while his family just watch through the screen with their jaws on the floor, still processing what the actual heck just happened.

They get snapped out of their shock when the youngest Wayne launches himself into the Barney's arms and starts rambling about how worried he was and did the store owner give you all those shoes and why the heck did you follow me here.

They don't know what they were expecting the person under the Barney costume to look like but they definitely weren't expecting a young girl with pigtails wearing stilts to come out.

Apparently she needed them to fit into the suit.

Damian: How did you even know I was in trouble?

Marinette: I sorta have a six sense for this kind of stuff. It's disappointing that I didn't get to use all of my amo though :(

Damian: Wait. You brought MORE shoes?

Marinette: Yep! And a couple other things as well. Like this trumpet case, and this bowling ball, and this duck themed alarm clock (I have one lol), and oh! Wait a moment would ya?

*walks over to the pool and dumps around 30 bath bombs in*

Marinette: There! Now this place will smell super nice!

Damian: Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of unidentified liquid?

Marinette: Yep!

Damian: Let me rephrase that. Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of possibly chemically contaminated water which could possibly have a bad reaction to the bath bombs which could possibly explode or just generally be the death of us?

Marinette: ........

Damian: ........

Marinette: ......

Damian: ........

Marinette: ....well it wouldn't be the FIRST time I-

Damian close to tears: yEs I KnOw PLeaSe StOp ReMinDiNg mE.

Ya so this was just a random idea I had and that I will probably not be adding to but y'all reading this are more than welcome to! If you do continue or make your own little spins on this please tag me! I would love to read them :D

#this is what happens when i think of shoes at like 2am #Barney is a boss bitch #maribat #maridami #damimari #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #daminette #miraculous crossover #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #chaotic marinette

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scarlettroubles · 3 years

Note

What do Eileen and Eliza write about Chiara?

Chiara Lobosca

Eileen’s Journal

"The day I decided to volunteer helping out in the Infirmary, I met this strange girl there. Pure white hair but brilliant blue eyes that took me aback the first time I saw them. Her name was Chiara Lobosca. She’s good with the patients of the Infirmary that even Madame Pomfrey holds her skill in high regard. The first few weeks we worked together, we barely spoke to one another. Most of our interactions were through her correcting me if I was wrapping a patient's bandage wrong. Or her giving advice on how to cast a healing spell more effectively. In the brief interactions we had outside of the infirmary, she was often curt in her answers. Like she was deliberately trying to minimize as much contact with me as possible. Like she was trying to hide something."

"I took it that she was one of the many students of Hogwarts that somehow thought I was cursed. Or worse, as mad as my brother was. It hurt to think someone like Chiara would believe such blatantly false rumors but I could not blame her for believing in them. Nor would I try to change her mind. I admit I felt bitter towards her back then, though I didn't know why. I was used to people believing the worst of me, so what made this girl’s opinion of me different? Why the sudden sting from her rejection?"

"It wasn’t until that fateful Halloween night back in 4th year that I learned her secret. I am happy to say that me and Chiara are now close friends, one me and Eliza have adopted as a sister. She doesn’t involve herself with the cursed vaults but she does heal me and the other’s up when we get injured from our escapades and can’t go to Madame Pomfrey unless we want to get caught. She doesn’t like us going after the vaults. But she dislikes her classmates and the staff members getting hurt by the vaults even more. So she lets us be."

"Sometimes on rough nights, I’ll make her champorado along with Eliza. The sweet rice porridge never fails to make them both feel better. And for that I’m glad."

Eliza’s Journal:

"I don’t like talking to people. Mostly because I’m scared they’ll find out I’m a wolf. That I’m weak. That I’m a monster. I’ve never met another werewolf. I didn’t want to. The last one I met is the reason I’m in this mess to begin with. But then Halloween came around and me, Penny and Sis found this white haired chick passed out on the ground. They both knew her apparently. And we had to go help Miss Sleeping Beauty."

And then my worst nightmare showed up.

The big bad wolf. Fenrir Greyback. The monster that turned me into one of them.

I felt my blood boil and I immediately went for him. Wanted to make him pay for what he did to me. For ruining my fucking life.

"I took down his two baddies but I lost to him. He beated me so easily. Held me by the throat. I was so scared. Sis tried to help. But she was no match for him either. Got her hand sliced up. She was bleeding so much. I wanted to puke at the sight of all that red."

But then ‘Ol rainbow robbed fuckface came to save the day thankfully. And we got treated for our wounds.

White haired chick’s name is Chiara Lobosca and she’s… She’s a werewolf just like me. Turned by the very same fucker that bit me. It felt like a punch to the gut when she said that. After all these years, I finally met someone who knows my pain. Who suffered by the very same hands too.

I hugged her then. I don’t know what overtook me. I don’t like touching people just as much as I don’t like being touched by people but for some reason, she was the one exception. It...It felt right. To hold her. To know she wasn’t the only one who was hurt by that man.

We took care of the fucker obviously. Couldn’t let him wander around school grounds and turn another kid into a wolf.

…

And he got away, obviously. Damned Ministry.

"But I got a friend out of the whole ordeal at the very least. It’s nice. To be friends with someone like Lobosca. I don’t know if it’s the wolf in me but she’s well, pack now. I think she knows that too.

It's nice not to be alone."

#eileen ryder #eliza ryder #hphm #hphm mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #ask #answer #wow I am so tired #sorry if there are mistakes in there #chiara lobosca

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for mermay, 9 indruck nsfw?

Here you go! #9 was folklore, Indrid’s design is based on a blue-ring Octopus, and I borrowed from one of the Discord convos we had about mer Indrid recently.

Content note: there is implied transphobia/misgendering in the reason Duck ends up in the water.

Duck goes to the depths still protesting, hands and ankles bound in rope and dark water closing over his head.

No amount of insisting he was the man he said he was or appealing to logic was enough; a woman aboard, even when he isn’t a woman, is bad luck and must be gotten rid off. So here he is, drowning for the sake of superstition, folklore and nonsense the reason his lungs scream in protest, denied air.

Whoever said drowning was like falling asleep was a damn liar; he’s in agony, reduced to his most basic state of a creature that wants to stay alive and cursed with the knowledge that he won’t. He shuts his eyes, as if that might make it more dreamlike, and circles past him, he feels fingers on his cheek and then, and then....

Then he’s waking up, chest rising and falling with ease. No more than a nightmare, then, he’s still on the ship-

No, wait, his blanket is floating where he kicked it away. He’s alive, he’s in some sort of bedroom, and he’s fucking confused.

Voices float in under the door, a lilting one reaching him first, “...most stubborn set of legs I ever encountered. A kiss is supposed to be enough, yet while his body can survive in our realm, it insists on remaining like itself.”

“Indrid, his majesty is going to be unhappy when he finds out.”

“I am aware, Vincent. And if my brother finds a drowning man, he may rescue him or not as he sees fit. He does not get to dictate my conscious.”

“I mean, I think you did the right thing” A woman’s voice now, “but he’s still pretty angry at you for the whole giving me legs incident.”

“You wanted to see your beloved, and I am almost as fond of Aubrey as I am of you. A charm that allows you to go between worlds is hardly cause for such a fuss.”

“It was the no-voice thing that bothered him.”

A sigh, “Time and again I have reminded him that strong magic comes with a price. In your case it was easily paid, because Aubrey recognized you instantly and kissed you. As if I would send my own niece into a situation where she might be trapped.” The last sentence is muttered, like the speaker knows no one will listen.

“I know that. That’s why you're my favorite uncle.”

“I am your only uncle” the smile is audible, “and I am just glad the two of you will be married soon. Now if you will excuse me, my foresight tells me my guest is awake.”

A door opens and shuts, and a moment later the curtain of kelp at the end of the room parts. Duck’s never believed in mermaids (or mermen), but that’s what swims to him now, human face and torso giving way to eight silvery tentacles dotted with deep blue rings. They’re almost as striking as his face, his features sharp and alien, crowned with silver-white hair.

“Hello” The mer smiles with sharp teeth, “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, not as confused as I could be on account of what I heard, but still tryin to work out why the fuck you saved me at all.”

“Three reasons: for starters, I dislike having corpses floating around the kingdom. I also do not see the point in having the power of foresight if I cannot use it to prevent suffering when possible. And finally I…” The calm smile on his face falters a moment, “I saw the moments that lead to your being thrown into the waves. You were condemned for being something you are not. I, ah, I could not let such an injustice come to pass.” His mask remakes itself, “and so here you are, Duck Newton.”

“And the kiss?” Duck raises his eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. If a mer kisses a dying human, that human will become a mer themselves. Except in your case, you have-”

“-Stubborn legs?”

A light laugh, “And here I thought I would be the one interrupting you. Yes, exactly. I have no idea why. I’m simply glad the magic worked well enough to help you breathe. There is a, ah, an issue however. My visions show that in your current state, you will not be able to survive on land.”

“But you said somethin about a charm to your, uh, niece?”

“That worked because it simply had to take her from mermaid to human; you’re stuck between forms in a way that, were I to apply the same approach to you it would end badly. As in accidentally turn you into a fish badly, at least in most timelines.”

“Huh” Duck worries the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “so I’m stuck here.”

“Indeed. I’m sorry.” Indrid sits on the foot of the bed, tentacles moving this way and that to fidget with the blankets, the bedposts, and the stray shells on the floor, “This has never happened before, and I did not mean to trap you in this way, I only meant to save you, to give you freedom.”

“That’s more than a lot of folks’ve tried to give me lately.” Tentatively, he touches the tentacle tip nearest him. It weaves between his fingers, the pressure from the suckers on the underside oddly pleasant. He rubs his thumb over a blue spot, which draws Indrid’s attention. His face goes pink and he pulls the tentacle back.

“Apologies, they have a mind of their own at times.”

“Don’t bother me. I, uh, I was just tryin to show you I ain’t mad. Feel a little adrift, but that’s a damn sight better then bein’ dead.”

“Adrift--OH, oh I see, you are going to say you do not know what to do now. The answer is heal; even though you are alive, your body and mind suffered before I saved you. You need rest and care, and I promise you shall want for neither. You are my honored guest, Duck Newton. My home is yours. I, ah, I would offer to let you leave the instant you are feeling able, but as you heard there are some issues with you being seen in this state.”

“Used to layin low.” Duck sighs, flopping back on the bed (or trying to, as he floats down onto the mattress instead).

“I gathered. If I had things my way, you would not need to do such things here. Alas, until my brother gets eaten by a shark, we may be dealing with this arrangement for some time” he gestures to the room, bathed in blues and greens as light filters down from the surface and in through the windows. Two tentacles gather the blanket, spreading it back up Duck’s body and smoothing it down.

“Rest now, Duck Newton. In the morning I will have much to show you.”

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

Duck wakes up clawing at the water above the bed, heart beating fast enough he fears it might eject itself up his throat.

The nightmares a fewer these last two days, but whenever they want to be done for good is fine by him.

He gathers seaweed green robe Indrid gave him and makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Indrid gave him a bracelet of cowrie shells that’s enchanted to let him walk without floating away. He’s a strong swimmer, but without a tail to aid him he tires quickly against the force of the water.

The merman’s house is huge, an attempt by the king to keep him happy without giving him any useful power. Most rooms are cluttered with etchings and drawings or items salvaged from wrecks or the shoreline. There are spare beds, but after the night where Duck awoke in a panic and could not calm down, where Indrid found him the next morning exhausted and shaking, the mer offered to sleep in the same room with him. Duck pointed out that it was technically Indrid’s bedroom anyway and he could sleep there if he wanted to. The mer dragged a variety of comfy pillows into the corner and declared he would be quite happy there. More than once Duck’s woken up first to see him sprawled out on the cushions, always clinging one against his chest. Duck wonders what would happen if he offered to take it’s place. He suspects he could do so without issue.

He’s no stranger to being admired, though the last time someone eyed him so approvingly he ran off to sea to avoid marrying them. Indrid’s red eyes contain the same desire but none of the entitlement. The merman’s been staring at him since that first day, though it’s only recently that he let’s Duck seem him doing so, after Duck caught his eye and stared right back.

Teasing Indrid is more fun than he expected, because while the mer usually gives as good as he gets, some days he blushes and wiggles his tentacle tips under Ducks attention. Indrid is obviously high status and, in Duck’s view, the most captivating mer in the kingdom; making him go pinker than a virgin at a striptease from a little flirting is gratifying.

His absolute favorite part of his new home, aside from Indrid, are the gardens at the center. Coral glistens and rainbows of fish flit across his path, sea flowers bloom and wave as he passes by. The best place to sit is in a massive clam shell with an excellent view of the grounds and the city beyond. It also happens to be Indrid’s preferred location to draw.

The mer takes one look at him and extends a tentacle, guiding Duck down to nestle close to him. When they’re with arms reach, one hand leaves his drawing to pet Duck’s thigh soothingly. He tilts his head, intending to study the sketch and ask about it, but ends up with his head on Indrid’s shoulder, slipping back into sleep.

“Oh dear.” Indrid murmurs, closing the book as a flurry of voices swim towards them.

“So, the rumors are true; you’ve brought a human into our domain.”

“Good morning to you as well, dear brother.”

The king crosses his arms, glaring at them, “if you cannot provide a decent reason for your having him here, I will make exile him myself. Right now.”

Indrid’s expression and voice remain calm, but one tentacle coils around Duck’s ankle and his hand clings to the loose trousers, “He, ah, he is, ah”

“I thought as much.” The king swims forward.

“Pet!” Indrid grins triumphantly, “he’s my pet. You keep saying you wish I would find a way to occupy my time and stay out of trouble, and here he is.” Indrid pulls Duck into his lap, patting his head with such exaggeration Duck has to stifle a laugh, “I have been so busy with him the last few weeks I’ve had little time for anything else. Isn’t that right, Vincent?”

Their friend nods, “Yes, your highness, the prince has found Du--, uh, the human most diverting.”

The king narrows his eyes, “Very well. The human may stay in that capacity.” With that, he swims from the gardens, trailed by his advisors.

“I gotta start wearing a leash now?” Duck teases, realizing too late that he’d do so in an instant as long as Indrid was holding the other end.

The blue of the rings deepens, “Not at all. Apologies for referring to you as my pet, but the timelines shifted so heavily in the direction of him casting you into the open sea that I panicked.”

“Aw, you lied to the kings face just for me. Must really like me.”

“I do! I, oh dear have I not made that clear?” Indrid gathers Duck’s hands between his own.

“You have, I was just teasin you. I don’t mind playin your spoiled pet to get one over on him, provided you keep spoilin me.”

Indrid’s grin returns, “I’m certain I can manage that.”

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

“I hate it when he calls my bluffs.” Indrid glowers into the jeweled box just delivered to their doorstep. Right before Duck asks what’s wrong, the merman hands him a small piece of parchment.

Prince Indrid,

Included is a gift for your ‘pet,’ as you are apparently in need of it. It would be a shame for him to get lost, after all.

The note ends with the kings seal. Duck looks up as Indrid turns the box his way, revealing a collar studded with abalone shells and a leash woven from dark, sturdy seaweed. So many obscene images flood his mind it takes two tries before he can focus on Indrid’s words.

“...Thought I kept us clear of anyone who would bother to report us. I’m sure there’s a way around it, ruse aside you are my friend and equal and I will not ask you to humiliate yourself. Hmm, oh goodness, we will need to send word to Dani and Barclay that we cannot come to dinner to tonight, that’s not enough time to draw up a solution, though perhaps we can invite them here instead.” His tentacles trawl the ground as he paces the room.

“‘Drid?”

“Yes?” The mer stops, then his eyes widen, “you are serious?”

“Gotta let me offer first.” He replies with fond exasperation, “I fine with wearin it while we’re out. I know how you really feel about me and, uh, it, uh, makes me feel...safe?” It’s right on the border of a lie by omission, but he manages to get it out.

“I see” Indrid swims casually towards him, as if that will distract Duck from the pink creeping up his cheeks, “in that case, may I put this on you, pet?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tilts his chin up, shuts his eyes with a happy sigh as Indrid latches the collar in place. The mer stays chest to chest with him, testing to be certain the collar is comfortable.

“How is that?”

“Woof” Duck deadpans.

Indrid blinks, confused.

“It’s the noise a dog makes.”

Another blink.

“Y’know those things that are like sea lions but on four legs instead of flippers?”

“That’s what those are called. Fascinating.” Indrid loops the leash into place and Duck growls playfully. The mer pats his cheek, fingers lingering on his skin as he purrs, “good boy.”

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

“Are you ready?” Indrid tips to vials of purple powder into a bowl, causing sweet smelling swirls of color to fill the room.

“Yeah. Been ready for years.” Duck stands opposite from him, drumming his fingers nervously on the rim of the bowl.

A week ago, Indrid asked in that blunt way of his if Duck wanted his human form to be different than it was. When he said yes, the mer immediately swam from the table and into the library to pull books from shelves.

“It will take a few days to prepare; I am careful in all my spells but, well...well I suppose when it is you I am inclined to take even more care than usual.”

It’s not the spell that’s making his nerves bubble up his chest; it’s the component of it he has to contribute. A secret, a precious one, because powerful magic will not give something for nothing.

“Whisper it into the foam.” Indrid gestures to the golden bubbles on the surface of the bowl.

Duck keeps it short and sweet. Then blinding light surrounds him, pure white spiked through with pink and blue, and he collapses to the ground, unable to do anything but hold himself as the spell courses through him. When the colors fade and the room returns to view, it’s all he can do to make his legs stand.

“How, ah, how do you feel?” Indrid taps his fingers together nervously, four of his tentacles following suite.

“Like I got trampled by a horse and came out a new man.”

“Oh. Good.” The fidgeting intensifies. Duck can only think of one reason for that.

“‘Drid? Did, uh, did the spell mean you learned the secret?”

“Yes.”

“Does it bother you? What I said, I mean.”

“No.”

A pulse of water, flourish of blue and silver, and Indrid’s lips find his. Arms and tentacles lift and hold him as they spin slowly across the room, the mer moaning when Duck drags his hands up his chest. He keeps kissing him as he speaks, mouth growing needier after every pause, “I, there were only a few timelines where you confessed your feelings for me and I, I wanted them so badly but I swore I would only act on your feelings if you used them in the spell, not simply because I saw futures where you might.” Tentacles slide under his shirt and up his pant-leg, “ohhhh, touching you in visions is nothing compared to feeling you for real.”

“Can feel me as much as you want, darlin. Got some things I wanna get my hands on too.” He tangles his fingers in Indrid’s hair, glides his mouth down to kiss his collarbone and tease a nipple with his tongue.

“Oh my sweet little human, the things I am going to do to yo-”

The doorbell times and Indrid nearly drops him.

“Damn it all, I forgot we were hosting game night.”

“Don’t worry ’Drid,” Duck pinches the base on one tentacle, “I ain’t goin anywhere, we can pick this up another time.”

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

“I call that a success.” Indrid ushers Duck into the house. They’re returning from Aubrey and Dani’s engagement party (Indrid having provided Aubrey with a mer-charm of her own. As much as he loathes the idea, King Woodbridge has had to give the marriage his blessing; Dani is his only heir. If he disowns her, his throne passes to Indrid, a scenario he hates even more than a human/mer wedding.

Duck wore his collar all evening in case one of the king’s toadies got it into their heads to tell on him. It also matches the clothing Indrid bought him exceedingly well, and he’s not ashamed he admired himself while passing the mirror.

Indrid doffs his cloak as Duck closes the bedroom door, “You can remove that now my sweet.”

He leans against the carved driftwood, “And, uh, what if I don’t wanna?”

The mers hand pauses where it’s setting the leash on a table, “then I suggest you come here at once, pet.”

Not for the first time, Duck longs for a tail so he could speed through the water into Indrid’s arms. The mer is impatient as well, gives a wickedly charming grin as the lease whips out on it’s on to connect with the collar so he can yank Duck flush against him.

“Better, but you are still not as I need you.” Keeping the leash wrapped around one hand, the other starts on the buttons of Duck’s shirt. The human tries to help, only for tentacles to trap his wrists together, “thoughtful, pet, but I do so enjoy unwrapping you myself.”

“‘Drid, pleaseplease hurry.”

“Manners, pet” A tentacle thwacks his ass just as two others pull his pants to the ground.

“I said please” Duck laughs as Indrid nibbles his neck.

“Is that sufficient for someone who spoils you as much as I?” Indrid flutters his eyelashes.

Duck bumps their noses together, “Please, ‘Drid, want you to fuck me, you take such good care of me, wanna take care of you right back, I’ll make you feel so good darlin please.”

“Much better”

His remaining clothing falls away. Out of habit, he moves to cover himself, only for his arms and legs to be pulled outwards, leaving him spread-eagle in Indrid’s hold.

“Do not so much as think about hiding this perfect form from me, pet.” In the front folds between his tentacles, Indrid’s dick begins to emerge.

“Someone get off on admirin his handiwork?”

The smile softens, “I am admiring you, sweet one. You have the finest body I have ever laid eyes on; you did when we met, and you do now. I delight in holding it, touching it, these days I delight in seeing your comfort in your own skin.” A predatory glint returns to his eyes, “and of course, I like fucking you in it. In fact, that gives me an idea.”

Tentacles spin Duck in a half circle as Indrid swims to the mirror, meaning the human sees their reflections as the mer purrs in his ear, “I want you to see just how perfect you look on my cock, pet.”

“Jesusfuck, ‘Drid, yes” His own cock is hardening between his legs as small tendrils part and prod his ass; Indrid’s cock resembles a human one until it reaches it’s base, where the tendrils wait to push his partner further open or coax them to climax. They took some getting used to at first, cool and slick as the teased into Duck’s ass. Now he welcomes them, savors the tenderness with which they ready him.

Indrid coos and purrs in his ear, chirping whenever his cock grinds between Duck’s cheeks. The hand not holding the leash caresses his face while the tentacles see to everything else. And he means everything

“Fuck!” One coils around his dick as another rubs gently at his balls. The first time they tried this they were cautious, unsure how human anatomy would respond to the pressure and suckers. In Duck’s case, the answer was “cum so hard and fast it takes them both by surprise.” Indrid had taken one look at the cock with cum still beading at the head and swallowed it to the root, not relenting until Duck came a second time.

“Ohhhnnnyes” The head of Indrid’s cock presses into him, “oh I never tire of how you feel, pet. So warm and welcoming for you, ah” he whispers in Duck’s ear, “master”

“‘Drid you, you keep that up I’m gonna cum any second.”

“Not before I show you something important. Look” Indrid forces his head forward with the collar. His reflection writhes and bounces eagerly on a cock he can’t see but can definitely feel, lips parted in a prolonged moan as Indrid lays claim to every inch of him.

“My perfect, handsome pet, letting me play with him as I see fit.”

“Damn rightAHfuck, I’m close, if you twist like that again I’m gonna-”

“Cum” Indrid orders. Duck obeys, spilling into the water with a groan of thanks. The mer waists no time, traps him in place with his tentacles so can fuck him hard and fast, one hand tugging the collar and the other fisted in his hair, “oh yes, yes pet, just a little more, you can take a little more, you must, because you are my spoiled little treasure and I can cum in you whenever I please.”

“Fuuck” Duck turns his head for a messy kiss as the mer empties into him with a muffled trill.

One by one, the tentacles relax, Duck’s feet gradually meeting the floor as Indrid trails kisses down his spine.

“Goodness, whatever did I do to deserve you, Duck Newton?”

“Save my life?” Duck turns, gathering the mer into a hug.

“I did that because it was the right thing.”

“You’re right. Hmmmm” he peppers Indrid’s face with kisses, “must be because you’re so damn perfect.”

Indrid hums happily as Duck maneuvers them into bed, “I doubt that’s it, but I am too tired to argue.”

Duck lays down beside him, looping his leg over Indrid’s waist as tentacle twines around his ankle. Maybe one day it will cling to his fins instead, but he’s not all that worried about that now. However he ends up, as long as he’s with Indrid, he knows life will be perfect.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay #mermay fills

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thespianbooks · 3 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 19//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

A little late today, and with some minor tumblr glitches ><, but here’s chapter 19! Enjoy loves!

XXX

Being on strict bed rest was going to be a lot harder than I originally anticipated.

After the first couple of days, wherein Madja assured my mate and I that I was making excellent progress in my recovery, I began to grow mindlessly bored. During those first few days, Rhys continued his vigil at my side, but mercifully slept and ate when I did. He reopened his line of communication with our friends in the estate, talking with them mind-to-mind and updating them on my condition. He also relayed any messages they had for me, allowing me past his mental shields so I could hear their words directly. After hearing Mor practically beg to see me after the umpteenth time, I informed my mate that it was time to put an end to our isolation period. His male-bonded instincts made him reluctant at first, but after I reminded him of the instructions given to him by our healer—to allow our friends, our family, to take care of the both of us, he acquiesced.

Now, a week later, I was more than content when they took turns visiting me. Sometimes they would visit in pairs—my sisters, Mor and Amren, Cassian and Azriel, or sometimes all at once; I was almost never bored now that I had their company. However, this period of confinement to my bed set the others on a new protective edge I had never seen before. Before the incident, they had all done their best to help me whenever I was uncomfortable, or when some pregnancy-related symptom reared its ugly head. When I would mention the strange dreams I had at night, Amren brought me a book on the philosophies of dreaming and what they might mean; while Mor theorized how we could interpret them. When a certain flower in Elain's garden had stirred nausea in my stomach, she removed them. When I watched Azriel and Cassian training in the pit and somehow grew a charlie-horse in my calf from sitting too long with my legs tucked underneath me, Cassian massaged the spot while Azriel offered advice on how to stretch my muscles safely while I remained unable to train during my pregnancy.

Their care was subtle; it was the little things here and there that they did for me while Rhys waited on my hand and foot—or as much as I would allow him to. Now that I was restricted to my bed, only allowed up to use the washing room or to bathe, they all tended to me. They wanted to help in whatever way they could, sometimes bringing me food and drinks when they visited, or sometimes bringing different books or other forms of entertainment. My appreciation only grew when, after the third day of my lying-in and receiving another excellent progress report of my recovery from Madja, Rhys finally left my side in order to meet with Palace Lords or with his Commander of armies and spymaster.

Velaris was still working towards rebuilding and managing repairs after the fire. Not unlike the first attack from Hybern, there were many shops, studios, and galleries that had been destroyed. Thankfully, the studio Ressina and I had established for the children of Velaris only suffered minimal damages, but my heart ached at the thought of those whose establishments were beyond repair. After a decade of peace, of healing from the war, they now had to start all over again. The only thing quelling my grief was the knowledge that Rhys and I had the funds necessary to allocate towards helping make those repairs and helping those who were now misplaced by the fires. That, and the societies that had been formed after the war worked tirelessly with volunteers to restore the Rainbow to its former glory. It would take time, but I was glad to know that, only a week after the attack, our citizens were determined and inspired to work together despite this tragedy that had befallen them—again.

"Are we starting this morning with those somber thoughts, my love?" Rhys asked softly, his arm draped around me as we lay in bed.

I was still too tired, too weak, to try and hold up my shields of adamant—so instead I left them down, allowing Rhys to hear my concerns or complaints through my thoughts. I sighed as I turned to face him, smiling lazily as those powerful hands gripped my hips gently to help me turn.

I touched his cheek gently, his violet eyes half lidded—still heavy from sleep. "I just feel...terrible," I started. "I can't help them by volunteering like I did after the war."

Rhys nodded his understanding, moving the hand on my hip to my stomach. "No one expects that of you, Feyre, especially in your condition. Even if you weren't on bedrest, they would probably insist you take it easy regardless," he said before moving his hand from my stomach to my cheek.

"You saved the city from burning to the ground. That was a sacrifice our people know you made given your current circumstances, and they are so grateful," he pressed a kiss to my brow. "The last thing they want is to see their recovering High Lady lift another finger."

I gave him a wry smile, "It's the last thing that they want or that you want?"

He kissed me full on the lips before offering a feline grin. "Semantics. Now let me say good morning to my son," he said before caressing my stomach, angling his head to stare at it lovingly.

He beamed when he felt that glimmer beneath his touch, our son greeting him before moving around excitedly. "Good morning, Bash," he said as he continued to stroke the swell of my belly.

"I'm still not sold on the nickname," I said as I brushed my fingers over the tattoos on his shoulder.

"We could go with Bastion, that also has a good connotation associated with it," Rhys suggested with a smirk.

I laughed and pinched his shoulder. "Our poor son will be so confused by his own name," I half-heartedly lamented.

"Nonsense, he'll know that his name comes with strength, regardless of a nickname. Won't you, Bash?" he asked my belly before lifting my dressing gown in order to place a tender kiss on my bare skin.

I smiled as he came back to give me another kiss and I melted into him with a rueful sigh. Along with limited mobility and being subjected to my bed, Madja had informed us that we also could not engage in "other mated activities." As much as I enjoyed other forms of intimacy with my mate that didn't involve sex, I couldn't help but feel an ache from our lack of activity.

"I miss it too," he purred in my ear and I shuddered.

He pulled away with a roguish grin and I pouted—actually pouted as I watched him disappear into the bathing room for a few minutes before reappearing and dressing for the day. Now that he allowed himself to part from me, he met daily with Cassian and Azriel to go over reports, taking extra care to look out for any updates and intel gathered from the Autumn Court. After what Beron pulled on us, Mor sent out an initial warning to the other courts while Rhys and I were incapacitated. We didn't know where the male would strike next, so as third-in-command, Mor warned them of the possibility that they might be targeted. Mercifully, the High Lord of Autumn hadn't unleashed Vassa onto the other courts—according to their responses, but that left all of Prythian on edge.

Cassian had implemented his security protocols along our borders, working with the legion of Illyrians he recruited and trusted hadn't turned with the rebels. Our neighbors and other allies had done the same, leaving all eyes on the Autumn Court. Azriel and his network of spies were continuing their work in the shadows, gathering whatever information they could, but as far as any of us knew, Autumn had closed themselves off from the rest of the continent. Their own borders were tightened; wards set in place above their territory as well, making it even more difficult for Azriel to work. However, according to letters being exchanged with the other courts, Helion offered his assistance to the spymaster; having made the plans to infiltrate those borders last night.

The meeting this morning would be crucial; detailing whatever Azriel had been able to gather, along with more reports from the Hewn City. As stated by the shadowsinger's recent reports from his network of spies established in the Court of Nightmares, Keir had cut all ties with Beron, and we had yet to know if that was prior to or after the attack the Autumn male had released on us. Hopefully this morning's briefing would answer that question.

"Hold the meeting here," I said to Rhys after he finished buttoning the collar of his black tunic.

He hesitated, but before he could protest, I cut in. "I'll stay here in bed, I promise. There's plenty of room in our suite for Cassian and Azriel to come in and go over the reports."

Rhys sighed and sat on the edge of the bed as I pushed myself upright. "Madja instructed you to turn over your duties as High Lady, for the time being. No additional stress, remember?"

"Yes, I know, but you're just going to inform me of everything that's said regardless. That's what you've been doing, remember?" I challenged.

His answering smile was crooked. "You're right," he started, his hand coming to rest on my stomach again.

I eyed him warily, "I'm sensing a 'but.'"

He sighed. "But I don't want whatever Az comes back with to stir up any stress and cause you harm."

I crossed my arms, noting how they now propped over the mound of my stomach. "So, you were planning to sugarcoat it for me later?" I asked with a raised brow.

"No of course not, Feyre." He sighed heavily, running a hand over his slick dark hair.

Through the bond I could feel him battle with his instincts—his primal need to protect me and our son in our already fragile state. I softened a bit as I watched him struggle to find words before I placed a hand on his.

"I've made great improvements this week, Rhys. Madja confirmed that soon I would be able to return to a light workload, so let me start small. I'll stay in bed while the three of you go over the reports, just these reports, and then you can go about the rest of your duties today and I'll spend the afternoon with my sisters here." I suggested, remembering the ways my sisters had insisted I ease-up on my workload and knew that I would need to implement them for the duration of my pregnancy. The bed rest had enforced this with stricter rules than I originally expected, but I had to admit it was nice to take a step back. Once the strict confinement was lifted however, I wanted to at least handle a little bit of my responsibilities as High Lady until my time came nearer.

"Just this one meeting, in the comfort of our room, is all I ask Rhys." I offered with a squeeze of his hand.

He nodded and squeezed my hand back. "This one meeting, and maybe a couple more after your bed rest is over." He said, having heard my thoughts through my unshielded mind.

I rolled my eyes but nodded in agreement as he helped out of bed, holding me under my elbows as I slowly moved from the edge of the bed to a standing position before him. A part of me felt moving this slowly was an exaggeration but necessary.

"It is," Rhys said, flicking the tip of my nose as I stood before him. "Necessary."

I stuck my tongue out at him, "Stay out of my head. Just because I'm too weak to throw my shields up doesn't mean every last thought is up for grabs." He laughed and moved an arm around my waist as we made our slow trek to the adjoining bathing room.

I had been a bit mortified, at first, when Rhys had to help me perform basic functions—like sitting on the toilet, but my mate hadn't been deterred. After a decade of helping me change out of blood-soaked undergarments during my cycle, I shouldn't have been so flustered, but this felt so different. Still, Rhys didn't so much as bat an eye when he helped me to relieve myself or when he helped me into the tub to bathe—that he actually enjoyed. After a week, I still flushed on our trips to the bathing room, despite his constant reassurance that I shouldn't be embarrassed of my bodily functions—especially in front of him.

After I bathed, which he still tried to insist he do for me—to which I always retorted that I wasn't an invalid despite being on bed rest, he led me back to our room and I sat in my robe as he dug through my armoire.

"Find me something more official," I said. "Not just leggings and a blouse."

Rhys threw an amused brow at me over his shoulder. "You mean something more befitting of a High Lady?"

"Yes, though I'm not on duty right now, I can still dress like one from time to time," I insisted.

He only chuckled before pulling out a simple turquoise colored long-sleeved day dress that would fall just below my knees. Despite the warm weather the end of summer provided, the material was lightweight and would be comfortable enough to wear in bed. I nodded in approval and he brought it over to help me change. Just as he helped me over to the lounge placed at the foot of our bed, a familiar knock came at our door. Based on the weight of it, I knew it was Cassian.

"That was quick," I said to Rhys as he snapped his fingers—his magic making our bed and organizing it neatly.

"I let them know we were meeting in here today," he said with a wink before going to answer the door.

I smoothed out my dress as he led the Illyrians in and sat up a little straighter when I saw Cassian holding a small pastry box in hand. He grinned the second he noticed me staring at it and walked it over to me.

"Your sister, Nuala and Cerridwen made a raspberry braid early this morning and insisted I bring you a couple pieces," he explained as I took the box eagerly from him.

I sighed deeply as I opened the box, inhaling the sweet and buttery scent of the pastry and smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Cassian," I said before taking a piece and biting into it.

"How are you feeling?" Azriel asked as he fell in step beside Cassian, the latter then going over to the medium sized table Rhys and I had set up on the other side of the room to spread out the stacks of reports.

"Still worn out, but good." I said reassuringly. "Do you have an update for us?"

I saw his shoulders tense at my question, and he exchanged a wary glance with Cassian before they both faced us. "Helion was able to create a weak spot in the wards around the borders of the Autumn Court, allowing my spies in, but that's where the good news ends."

Rhys and I shared a frown as he stood beside the lounge I sat on, gripping the back of it a little tighter than he meant to. "Well?"

Cassian swore under his breath. "It seems Beron found Eris's attempts to rally their armies against him, lost his mind, and launched an all-out civil war against his own bastard son."

I blinked. "The Autumn Court is battling within themselves?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"He knew trying to depose his father in order to take over as High Lord would be tricky, which is why he called in the favor to us so long ago," Rhys explained.

"Right, but they're actually fighting each other now?" I asked again.

Cassian nodded and Azriel crossed his arms over his broad chest. "It's absolute hell in their territory. Eris is not doing so well with his armies, especially now that his father has recruited the sorcerer who controls Vassa, and my spies indicate that he is drafting a letter to send to the other High Lords of Prythian," he said. "Including us."

I felt Rhys's shadows grow darker, "I assume that means Keir isn't aiding either one of them?"

Cassian scoffed. "That bastard dropped out of their deal the moment he saw the instability in Beron's court. My guess is he's waiting to see who ends up taking over the seat of High Lord before trying to form a new alliance."

A spark of relief went through me, but it was short-lived as I asked, "Does that mean Keir is stalling his plans for the coup?"

Azriel gave me a somber look, "My spies found that he is restructuring plans with Kallon to move sooner rather than later. If the other high lords aid Eris in fighting his father, that leaves us with diminished assistance in our fight against him."

The bit of pastry I ate now roiled in my stomach as I sat back against the lounge, completely taken aback. "What do we do?" I whispered.

"We still have time," Rhys said. "I'll write to the others. They won't all decide to help Eris, they don't trust him. Especially after what happened at the summit."

"Helion already promised us his forces, if that should be the case. He was there when Az received the report, and he's informed Thesan as well." Cassian reassured, Azriel nodding in confirmation.

The nausea in my stomach alleviated a bit. Two additional courts against half the Illyrians and Keir's Darkbringers. I recalled the memories of the two armies working together on the battlefield against Hybern; remembered their might and Cassian's claim that success in battle was often decided not by numbers, but by picking where to fight. The Illyrians and Darkbringers would no doubt thrive in their home court.

"He also told you knowing when to fight was equally as important. Brute that he is, Keir won't strike until he believes he has the upper hand. It's why he's held off as long as he has and will continue to until he can guarantee what is happening in the Autumn Court will put us at a disadvantage." Rhys explained, hearing the rising anxiety in my thoughts, and gripped my shoulder gently.

Cassian and Azriel must've realized what I had been thinking, because they then each nodded in approval. "There isn't reason to panic just yet, Feyre." Cassian reassured. "It's bad news, but Rhys is right. The prick won't make any moves until he has assurance that he'll get what he wants."

I nodded, the dread that had been building up in my chest beginning to ease. I sighed as I sat up a bit. "You aren't all just saying this to make sure I don't get hysterical and go into spontaneous labor again, are you?"

"I would never lie to you, Feyre." Azriel answered without hesitation as Rhys squeezed my shoulder lightly. "That includes not sugarcoating the truth."

"You're my High Lady. I will always be upfront with you," Cassian promised.

I sighed and gripped the hand on my shoulder, squeezing it as I met Rhys's eyes. They were hardened amethyst, but conveyed the same promise.

"In the meantime, we set up wards around Velaris. I don't want to take even the slightest chance. The bastard will know what it means, and he can stew in his rage for all I care. He won't be a problem for much longer," Rhys said, his voice dangerously dark.

I gulped but dipped my head in agreement. "We write to the other courts as well, like you said. As soon as this mess in the Autumn Court is resolved, we'll gather and confront Keir and Kallon, and put an end to this once and for all." I said.

We all exchanged the same grave expressions, knowing that we'd be rid of these insurgents—soon.

XXX

I had wisely chosen to spend the rest of the day with my sisters. While Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel immediately went about executing the next phase in our plans to finally put an end to this coup. Cassian and Azriel left only minutes after Rhys called an end to our meeting, going to work on securing and preparing the city for the wards my mate would put up. I managed to convince Rhys to eat a bit of breakfast before he officially started his day. Not only was he going to send out letters to the other High Lords, Clotho aiding him in writing those letters, but also planned to meet with the Palace Lords of Velaris and inform them of the wards to be set in place—today. We, along with the other courts, were now officially preparing for war.

I tried not to think about it as I sat on the chaise lounge of my suite's sitting room with Elain and Nesta, trying to focus on Elain's excitement about finalizing the details of her plans to transform the sitting room into a nursery.

"And I think the cradle should go here in the middle of the room." Elain explained as she moved over the plush carpet in the center of the room, positioning herself to show the precise location.

I nodded, running an idle hand over my stomach as I felt a glimmer of excitement inside of it. "I like it," I said tiredly. After the meeting this morning, I was already sufficiently drained of any energy.

"I would think you'd be more excited about it," Nesta said coldly from her seat on the lounge adjacent to me. "Considering Elain made all these plans for your child."

I narrowed my eyes at my eldest sister, wondering how much longer I would be able to tolerate the icy rage she bore towards me ever since I had been placed on bed rest. Whenever she and Elain would visit my bedside, Nesta remained indifferent—hardly saying more than a few words at a time to me, and almost all of them hostile. Thinking back to her behavior at the cabin just a little over a week prior, the concern she expressed for mine and my child's health, had me wondering what had caused her flip in attitude so suddenly.

"It really wasn't any trouble," Elain began carefully, sensing the tension stirring between us. "The baby is our niece or nephew, and I wanted to contribute something."

"Thank you, Elain," I said before sliding my eyes back to Nesta. "And for the record, I am excited, but I'm also exhausted. In case you haven't noticed." I motioned to my stomach for emphasis.

Nesta didn't look impressed, instead taking a sip of her tea with a shrug. "I'd say you only have yourself to blame for that."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped, sitting up a little straighter.

Elain took a step towards me; Nesta snapping back at me with equal vigor. "I mean it's your own fault for the state you're in now. You didn't have to be confined to your bed, your body working overtime to recover from a near-loss that could have been avoided."

I stared at her, mouth agape in complete and utter shock. "Nesta, please. We can't be upsetting Feyre right now in-" Elain started but Nesta cut her off with a scoff as she stood.

"Why should I coddle her?" She asked before directing those deadly grey-blue eyes at me. My eyes—stirring with Nesta's own dark power that swirled under her delicate fae features. "We warned you to be careful, to take a step back and let the others here handle your vocations as High Lady, and not two damn minutes later you winnow away and use your powers."

"I did it to save my city." I said, my voice barely above a whisper as my throat grew tight at her words. "Our city. Our home. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not when it could've cost you your youngling!" She barked. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are that you didn't? That your youngling survived, despite the risk, meanwhile females like me-" she stopped herself, realizing her words.

Elain covered her mouth and I blinked, a few traitorous tears slipping down my face. I recalled Cassian's revelation from months ago as Nesta clenched her fists and turned away, going to the tea cart placed on the other side of her lounge chair.

"Meanwhile females like you who can't have their own?" I said softly.

Her shoulders stiffed, but she didn't turn to meet my gaze. "Who told you that?" She asked, her voice not as fierce as it had just been—a crack in her hardened veneer.

"Is that why you're mad at me Nesta?" I returned, deciding I wouldn't dance around this issue any longer. "Because I put my child at risk, without any consideration to how it might make you feel. You who can't bear her own youngling?"

I saw her head dip below her shoulders slowly, the hand holding a teacup trembling before a tiny crack formed. I sighed shakily, sniffing as I forced away my tears with a gulp.

"Nesta, I'm so sorry," I began. "The last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone secretly felt the same way. What I did...was dangerous. You're right, I could've lost my child...my son."

Elain turned her teary gaze to my stomach. "It's a boy?"

"Yes, and I know in that moment my instincts as High Lady overshadowed my instincts as a mother, and I," I choked back a sob as I rubbed the swell of my stomach gently. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself, even if everyone else has. But I won't blame them if they don't—if you don't."

Elain wiped a few tears away as she sat beside me, placing her hands over mine and squeezed them gently, while Nesta's shoulders gradually lowered. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"I felt that way once." She said, her voice gravelly as she finally turned to face Elain and me. The fire in her blue-grey eyes now smoldered with that sorrow I had seen before; on that day we learned that Viviane had given birth to Eira.

"I once thought I would never forgive myself...after I lost my youngling." She ignored Elain's quiet gasp as she stared out the window, wrapping her arms around herself. "It was years ago, after the war. While I was with Cassian in the Illyrian mountains. As a human, my cycles were few and far between, and after I was made, they stopped altogether." She cleared her throat with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"I assumed long ago that I would never be able to carry a child, had made my peace with it...until I woke up one morning in a pool of blood. The look on Cassian's face when he-" her voice faltered and I saw her throat bob, staring up into the sky for a minute before she was finally able to move on. "The Illyrian healers said it was very early on, only six weeks at the most, and later Madja confirmed that my body was...incapable of ever bringing a youngling to term."

She turned to face me. "It was part of the reason why it took me so long to return from the mountains. Knowing you and your High Lord wanted a family of your own, knowing I could return and see you with child," she paused as she stared at my stomach. "My outlook changed over the course of that year, and thanks to that brute, I...was able to face you all again. Even with the loss weighing on him just as heavily, he managed to work past it and pull me up through those depths I was already well into after the events of the war.

"When I learned you were pregnant, I thought it would cause me pain, but instead I saw it as an...opportunity. It wasn't until then that I realized I finally forgave myself for the loss, realized it wasn't my fault, and I was grateful." Our eyes met again, meaningfully, and I motioned for Elain's help as I slowly scooted to the edge of my seat.

Elain jumped to her feet and gingerly helped me to mine. Nesta sucked in a breath, prepared to protest as I made a step towards her, but she instead crossed the room in a couple of strides and embraced me. Tears I hadn't realized were already in my eyes fell as Nesta squeezed her arms around me—careful not to put any strain on my middle, and only a few seconds later Elain's arms encircled us both as best she could.

"Forgive yourself, Feyre," Nesta breathed before pulling back enough to meet my stare. "And take care. Let the others, let us, take care of you and your son."

I nodded with a sob before Elain pulled her back into our embrace and we all held each other—like we had all once done so, so long ago.

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