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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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thebrokenmechanicalpencil · 1 month ago

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OK so yep turtle child. I seem to have fallen back into all my old artistic phases once again, Tmnt included in that roster.

I get a brain worm sometimes, it sits and annoys me and wont go away because of course I cant be inspired to draw normal things. Oh well, this is Mucha (pronounced Moo-kah) named after a painter from the art nouveau period. He is the son of our favorite leader in blue, Leo. YES ok wait before anyone gets me, no oc shipping made him. He and his cousin's were made through the art of ✨science✨

Lets say in the bay movies (because those have a soft spot in my heart I'm so sorry I know theyr kinda ugly-) some baddie gets the blood samples from the brothers and instead of trying to make a pandemic (havnt watched the movies in forever forgive me) they try recreating the experiment to try and create super soldiers (overused plot line dontworryaboutit) they mix the mutation agent with four turtles they have on standby, along with the DNA of each brother. Welp mutation happens but before they can get too far the boys swoop in thinking it was some sort of beep bop and rock steady situation. They discover the four recently mutated infant turtles and the rest goes from there.

sorta like the last Ronin but no sads, and before you know it the baby turtles have favorites and now they are sorta parent big brothers. As they get older and the babies grow they lean into the fatherly aspect. Or something.

Now this is the baby who gravitated toward Leo and he to him, and has Leo as a top roll model in his life. Sure all the boys help raise the new set, but again the kids all have favorites. Naturally. (I will mess with this later, but for now this is the wobbly idea) Well Mucha has Leo the stern when leading, silly when the weight is off his shoulders, overly bossy and slightly controlling Leo. Leo who would die for his family but can be cruel and very blunt. Who is also really young in his own right. Being the top role model for a child. Well they have a relationship were Mucha adores him, wants to be like him. But can never seem to live up to his expectations, tries so hard to impress him. He has a loving father figure who teaches him but also tries to helicopter him so much. Control so much, who is blunt when frustrated or angry. This kid is terrified of disappointing him, but wants deep within himself to impress his father his OWN way. Being Mucha not little Leo. He falls where Leo did when chosen as leader, under pressure without his parent even realizing it.

Leo does love him, but as we have seen he is a control freak. So his child naturally rebels, snapping and arguing with him when he's having a bad day. Not wanting to listen to him, because Leo wont listen to MUCHA. As Mucha gets older their relationship becomes strained.

K well I'm stuck in this now. This was mostly a thought post, read a thing about Leo wanting so badly to be a parent. Started wondering how it would go, will continue to work on this. Probably. The reason Mucha's art is so angsty is because that's where the pen went. Hes actually not that bad, usually.

OH well the second, white turtle. He gets his own post later :D

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 2 years ago

Text

Buck & Doe (10)

Summary: Natasha attempts to take down Dreykov, who is mind controlling Black Widows. In her quest she recruits Y/N, a former Black Widow turned science experiment. Bucky and Natasha share a history in the Red Room but his life might be intertwined with more than one Widow. The closer they get to taking down Dreykov, the more secrets come to light.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of struggling to conceive

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Not Beta’d

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 10

Tony was the only Avenger not preparing to head out. HYDRA's involvement in the death of his parents forced him to stay behind. His need for revenge had dwindled overtime; a result of a pretty nasty fight with his current super-soldier teammates, but his anxiety had increased. He could no longer afford to be reckless, not when he had Pepper. Instead, Tony retreated to the lab.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hopefully Venice, Cipriani. That is if Pepper ever calls me back.” Tony glanced up from his cardboard box filled with materials briefly to respond to the voice, Steve.

With raised eyebrows the blonde took a few steps further into the lab. “Trouble in paradise?”

“She’s just busy. You know it takes a lot to run a company?”

The corner of Steve’s lips curled upwards. “I think a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist might have mentioned it once or twice.”

Tony’s right palm rested over the arc reactor implanted in his chest. “You flatter me, Rogers. You know, if you weren’t about to head out on a mission I just might have tried to sweep you away to Venice with me.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave the honeymooning to Pepper.”

“Hm, your loss.” Tony continued to busy himself with the tools in front of him. “Was there something you needed or did you come all this way to make sure I wasn’t planning on tagging along?”

With a nod towards the door Steve had just walked though Y/N entered.

“Jane’s earpiece needs to be set. I figured no better person to make sure everything is synced up than the guy who made it.”

The earpiece wasn’t complicated to work. Sure there had been a few Stark tweaks to them but nothing any of the other Avengers couldn’t figure out. Steve knew Tony had been itching to be useful but for some reason he wasn’t. Rather than prying, Steve offered Tony a simple task hoping he’d bite the bait.

One look at Steve and Tony knew what the super-soldier was doing. He would take the bait and hope Steve knew he was grateful but he wouldn’t say it. His pride wouldn’t allow it.

“I suppose Venice can wait if the Avengers need my help.”

Clapping a hand on Tony’s shoulder Steve thanked him before exiting the lab leaving Y/N and Tony alone.

“Bring it here.” Tony called out while pulling a bunch of metal utensils from a drawer. At the sight of the earpiece in an outstretched hand Tony frowned. “Don't hand it to me. Leave it on the table.”

An awkward smile graced Y/N’s lips at the odd remark but she decided to let it go. Her thoughts were on a more interesting topic.

“So, Pepper,” Y/N asked, jumping up on the lab table beside Tony’s workspace. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Side eyeing the woman making a mess of the lab table he replied. “Wife.”

Tony could practically hear the gears turning in Y/N’s head. He knew he was about to be bombarded with a million questions much like a child does when curious.

“You’re not really going to Venice, are you?”

Keeping his eyes trained on the earpiece below him Tony grunted. “What makes you think that?”

Without missing a beat Y/N slapped her hand on the box beside her. The rattling of metals and glass in the box rattled loud enough for Tony to meet her eyes.

“For someone going to spend time with their wife you sure have a lot of work packed.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Tony glared. Y/N failed to waiver from Tony’s glare catching him by surprise. Between her typically timid nature and being a child running around the tower, Tony had almost forgotten the woman before him was a Widow. Sighing, Tony gave in. “I’m going downstairs to tinker on my suit.”

A moment of silence passed before Y/N started kicking her feet against the lab table. “Is she the reason you’re not going with us?”

Glancing up from the earpiece Tony sighed again. “Yes.” After a pause he seemed to have changed his mind. “I mean no. She’s not forcing me to stay behind if that’s what you’re asking.”

Eyeing the metal tweezers pointed at her, Y/N brushed his hand away. She hadn’t missed the way Tony’s eyes softened when his eyes met hers, a look of desire. Nor had she missed the defensive tone and change of answer. He was hiding something but she had yet to figure it out.

“You’re doing it for her.” Y/N whispered.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Unlike Steve, he knew Y/N would pry into his personal life and figure it out. He had been surrounded by Natasha long enough to know that. He knew Y/N had been trained to do the same. He also knew Natasha was a steel trap with secrets. Another thing he knew had been ingrained in Y/N through the Red Room; however, unlike Natasha, unfortunately, Tony knew Y/N could relate.

Hanging his head Tony gave in. “We’re trying for a baby.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her right hand absentmindedly reaching up to rest over her vacant womb.

Lost in thought, Tony began to word vomit. “My dad wasn’t around much but when he was he was hard on me. I hated the guy. For the longest time I was afraid of being my father, and maybe a part of me still is. Bar- HYDRA, killed my parents. I want to defeat HYDRA but I want a family too and in order to be a father, I need to be here. To be a better father than my old man was to me. I can’t abandon Pepper and my future child.”

Y/N’s left hand squeezed Tony’s left trembling hand. “You’ll make a great father Tony. You’ll see.”

Thankfully the cool air provided Bucky with a reason to wear his black leather gloves without drawing attention to himself. The brunette’s metal hand clasped in the child’s right as they strolled towards the library. His flesh hand constantly fidgeted with the black backpack on his shoulders. He hoped if they were caught he could play off the Winter Soldier seeking to return home bit long enough for Y/N to shift and change into the adult clothes he carried with him. If he brought the adult Y/N with him into HYDRA’s base they wouldn’t buy the bit if she went with him willingly and if he had to carry her or fight, they would definitely draw attention to themselves.

Despite the Avengers lurking in the city at different points along their path to the library the super-soldier couldn’t help but be alert. His eyes glared at everyone from under the brim of his black baseball cap.

“I got eyes on them.” A feminine voice called into his earpiece.

Grunting in acknowledgement, Bucky bit his chapped lip and glanced over his shoulder.

“Great. Barton and I will head towards the library now.” Steve replied.

Scanning the large crowd, the hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck raised. Something was off. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched despite the Avengers keeping their eyes on them.

“Look ‘Key!” Y/N called out tugging Bucky across the street. “Kitty!” Y/N squealed, eyeing the white cat in the pet store window.

Bucky frowned. “It’s just a cat.”

“Can we get it?”

A scoff left the super-soldier in disbelief.

“Barnes, get the kid back on track.” A voice interrupted in his ear.

Silently cursing, Bucky gently pulled the little girl’s hand in hopes to avoid a scene. “Remember what we talked about earlier? No distractions.”

Frowning, the girl pulled Bucky’s hand again. “But can we get her after?”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.” The smile that spread across the child’s face nearly blinded Bucky, it was so bright. “After the mission.”

Almost in a hurry now, Y/N began pulling Bucky through the crowd.

“Slow down, will ya.” Bucky called out, squeezing her hand as to not lose her.

“Got everything under control?” Clint joked reminiscing about his own children.

A huff left Bucky as the child was back at his side. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of walking with a child through large crowds. He didn’t like it on a normal day and he certainly didn’t like it while heading towards a HYDRA base. Anything could happen.

“Buck?”

Choosing to ignore any more distractions he pulled Y/N closer continuing to glare at the people surrounding them. The people now staring at them. Bucky pulled his cap further down his face hoping the civilians wouldn’t recognize the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky!”

Swinging around to scold the child once more his voice caught in his throat. Y/N lurched forward fisting his red henley. A very naked adult Y/N. Cursing under his breath he tried to shrug his jacket off. He regretted buckling the front of the backpack across his chest. Y/N’s body blocking the buckle.

“Barnes, you have to get out of there now. You’re drawing too much attention.” Natasha warned.

Forgetting the jacket Bucky wrapped his arms around Y/N pulling her closer. His large forearms concealed her exposed form as he carried her through the crowd. Feeling the warmth of her breath tickle his neck Bucky’s eyes scanned their surroundings for the quickest exit. As if on autopilot, his long legs carried them down the closest empty alley. Maybe it was muscle memory from saving Steve in alleys in the 40’s but he knew he could protect her there. Bucky let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the red brick wall at the other end of the alley. He would only have to guard one end.

It wasn’t until Bucky reached the mouth of the alley that felt her tremble against his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the cold air but he knew the solution: clothes. Gently leaning Y/N against the wall at the other end of the alley, he attempted to step away, his head held high to give her some privacy. Y/N refused to let go.

“Jane, you hav’ to let go. I hav’ to take the bag off. You’re gonna freeze.”

A moment passed with no movement between the two.

“You’re safe here.” Bucky whispered, lifting his flesh hand to brush the back of her head.

Again, silence. Bucky’s earpiece was quiet. The city life could still be heard from the other end of the alley but the loudest sound was their beating hearts. Bucky wasn’t sure whose heart would give out first, his from adrenaline or hers from embarrassment.

“What happened?” Steve broke the silence.

Tilting his head up at the sky Bucky replied. “I don't know. It wasn’t me; she held my left hand.”

With Bucky’s head facing the sky, Y/N ran her shaky hands along the super-soldier’s chest. Bucky could feel her trembling hands failing to open the buckle but ignored it tilting his head further back.

“Jane?” Bruce suggested.

He knew they couldn’t see them but he shook his head anyway. He knew something was off earlier but it hadn’t been Y/N.

Finally releasing the buckle Y/N was quick to plant her hands on Bucky’s shoulders and shove the straps off his broad shoulders. Though expected, the thump of the bag hitting the ground made them both jump.

“Everybody take five.” Natasha interrupted. “We’ll regroup in ten.”

While grateful for the distraction with conversation, Bucky was thankful for the clicks of the earpieces on the other end. He had more pressing matters to deal with. Reaching up to turn his own earpiece off he cleared his throat. “I’m gonna turn around now.”

Feeling her nod against his chest still at loss for words, Bucky took a small step back before turning on his heel. Watching Bucky’s back retreat closer to the mouth of the alley Y/N scrambled towards the bag for her clothes. Her eyes never left the super-soldier.

Bucky planted his booted feet at the beginning of the alley, his massive arms strained against his sleeves as his arms folded across his broad chest. He debated rolling his sleeves up, letting his arm intimidate people alone but decided against it. It would draw more stares their way.

Most figures passed by without so much as a glance in Bucky’s direction. He wasn’t sure but Bucky guessed Y/N was nearly finished based on the less rapid movement as opposed to minutes ago. Just as Bucky reached up to turn his earpiece on, the hairs on the back of his neck raised for the second time that day. Scanning the crowd once more, his eyes landed on a hooded figure walking towards him.

“This alley’s occupied.” Bucky called out.

The figure kept coming.

“Hey.” He growled out while snatching the person by the shoulder.

“James.” The voice was muffled beneath the hood but Bucky heard it clear as day. Without releasing the shoulder of the figure Bucky reached up pulling the hood off. His face paled, eyes widened, and his mouth became dry. A ghost reemerged to haunt him.

“Becca?”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@nelly-belly @small-death-and-codeine @amberritonicole @hallecarey1 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @val-writesstuff @rhiamaymay @lilhoodhippie

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caprica99 · 3 years ago

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Small Science <<< Merzost

Here I am thinking about Grishaverse again, more specifically the problem presented about Grisha power vs modern technology.

"The age of the Grisha power is coming to an end." (Book)

"When I was drafted, my sergeant schooled us about Grisha. He said we would win this war because one of them was worth 50 of us. Then the revolver pistol came in from the west, and I was told a Grisha was worth two dozen soldiers. When I lost half my company to the Fjerdans with a repeating rifle and one in ten of our casualties was Grisha, they said it was an acceptable ratio. How long before they are just as useless as the rest of us?" (Show)

We know modern firearms make Grisha less effective on the battlefield. Putting aside the enormous potential of the Materialki in the development of weaponry I think the next logical move would be the extensive study of the theory of merzost, and careful experimentation with it.

Merzost is not inherently evil, only Baghra sees it that way. It depends on the intent of the person who wields it. Aleksander wanted to create an army, but his many negative emotions influenced the outcome and later the nichevo'ya was created for self-defense.

But look at Ilya Morozov: he created three powerful amplifiers and brought his daughter back from death. (On a side note: why haven't Aleksander tried the same? It's a Fabrikator thing or what?) Every one of Ilya's endeavors succeeded in a way he wanted to. Ilya was able to perform controlled merzost, this makes him the most skilled Grisha in the world. I only read the first tome, did his alleged 'craziness' stem from his use of merzost or not? Because if not then with extensive study and great talent one can use merzost safely.

Aleksander is presented as the top authority on Grisha theory, I would think after 400 years he would have figured out what went wrong or at least had a few theories about it.

I think merzost is dangerous because we don't understand it yet. It's good because we fans can theorize about it, but it's really frustrating how none of the Grisha except a few experiment with it. Demon in the Woods showed us that a child is willing to kill her friend just for his amplifier bones, modern Grisha face kind of the same problem with developing technology. One would think a group of talented Grisha theorists (led by David) are hellbent on figuring merzost out for the sake of the Grisha race (especially with jurda parem in the equation). It would have been a brilliant subplot.

I just really can't believe that there is something more powerful than Small Science and Aleksander hasn't thought about creating the nichevo'ya sooner. I mean the Grisha and Ravka were in a losing position even before Alina came along, I'd expect Aleksander to at least start thinking about using merzost again. 400 years was enough time for him to learn and conduct experiments.

What are your opinions on the matter?

It's possible I got something wrong canon and headcanon tend to mix up in my head :-)))

#shadow & bone #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #sab worldbuilding #sab theorycrafting #merzost #small science #grishaverse #sab meta

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anthrogothic · 3 years ago

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Body/Prision

~Well, this is the first fic I've posted (not that I've written many). Maybe I found it interesting to explore the emotional and psychological side of the clones and, of course, Echo. Besides, of course, other little things. Hope you like it. 🥺 (and sorry for any mistake as this fic was originally written in brazilian portuguese).

Second part heeeeree

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader (in this chapter only Hunter and Wrecker appear for now)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Body insecurity and bullying.

You were always a woman of science. Curious, persistent and genius. As a child, you loved growing plants and watching animals. Sometimes experimented with changing the color of flowers in jars with colorful products or hatching small eggs of birds and reptiles in small boxes bathed in light and heated cloths. You once set fire to his parents Aldeeranian Silk curtains, after pointing a magnifying glass in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

No wonder you was one of the top students at Naboo's Faculty of Science when was older. After all, you were one of the few females in your class. Being constantly the victim of offensive comments and jokes, mainly because of baggy clothes that didn't mark your body, adopted after years of harassment for your sharp curves. Your glasses and voluminous hair didn't do much for the "jokes" to stop. Withdrawn in any group of popular and partying colleagues, you had nothing but to study with your few fellow “nerds”.

As a result, you soon got your first job in the field. Standing out so much that you was invited to participate in the cloning processes on Kamino a few times, even creating a certain professional relationship with Nala Se, the chief scientist.

You weren't a fan of cloning, even though it was incredible, you found it somewhat unethical in relation to the impact on the lives of Jango Fett clones. They weren't just battle products or numbers to you, but Human Beings with as many rights as anyone else. That they should have autonomy over their lives. But work is not always 100% pleasant, as much as it is something you love as long as you understand being human.

With your occasional visits to Kamino, you ended up having the sympathy of the clones, precisely for treating them like ordinary people, with different names and personalities despite the identical DNA and their fateful serial numbers.

You even ate with them in the cafeteria instead of the staff room and played with them in your free time and some would sneak men's uniforms for you, who were too bothered by the looks and teasing you received in your tight women's uniform.

One day, during a typical meal with your friends, a tone of laughter and nasty comments made you take your attention off your plate.

You poked your clone friend in the shoulder on your right.

"What is happening?"

He, without even looking up, snorted a laugh and spoke before taking the meal to his mouth:

"So you don't know the subject of the moment? There is a new squad among us. Weird… but they haven't suffered a single casualty on the field so far."

You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck a few times in an attempt to see something.

"I was not informed of this. I have not been assigned to inspect newly graduated soldiers for some time. But why the laughter and so much whispering?"

Deep in your brain, the bitter memory of your college days was pulled.

Your friend gave you an incredulous look, gesturing to find the right words to avoid any reprimand from you:

"They… well… are technically defective. Very different from us. No wonder they nicknamed them The Bad Batch."

He stifled a laugh. Soon getting punched in the arm accompanied by a scowl from you.

"Okay, okay. Forgive me, clone rights advocate."

His irony was clear, making you roll your eyes and get up, heading towards the counter where they left the used dishes. After thanking the wrinkled green lady who served the meal, you turned in the direction of leaving the cafeteria, but a sharp impact on your face and chest propels you back, followed by a lot of pain and strong hands gripping your elbows.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

A familiar, but deeper and stronger voice resonated in your ears, making you open your eyes faster than you normally would, as you bring your hand to your forehead and in the background thanking the Maker for wearing contact lenses instead of glasses today . It took you a while to map the face of the man in front of you. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders, his red bandana letting out a few shorter strands across his forehead, his almond-shaped eyes looking a little worried, and finally, a tattoo that covered the entire left part of his face.

He was familiar…but at the same time very different from the other clones. Even the armor, grey and red. Definitely seeing a different face in that cafeteria was a bit intriguing.

"I think you broke her, Hunter!"

A loud, husky voice came from behind you, making you turn your back to the tattooed man, just to behold the huge soldier who covered your entire field of vision.

He was huge, broad and with perfectly shaped muscles. Gradually, your eyes traveled from his abdomen, across his broad chest to his face. This one had no hair. He had a blind eye, with a huge scar running from there to the ear. The clone's good eye looked you up and down, literally.

"I'm fine… sorry… I-"

You were shocked by the image of both men. Could it be they who your friend had spoken of?

You can barely complete your sentence when interrupted by a clone next to you.

"Well well. The scientist and her laboratory freaks. How comical..."

He didn't even stop to stare at you, being followed by two other clones who clearly enjoyed the bad joke.

The men beside you clenched their fists and the bigger one growled, taking long, heavy strides in front of you, until he was stopped by the tattooed-faced clone, who practically jumped in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest.

"Forget it, Wrecker. It's not worth it… and we can't take another warning for assault in the cafeteria."

The taller one nodded a few seconds later, clearly disappointed not to get his hands on his attacker.

With slow steps, you approached them, curious and also irritated by the other clone's words.

"Idiots."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your voluminous breasts.

"You are the new squad the others are talking about, aren't you?"

There was a certain wonder in your voice now.

"Force Clone 99, doctor!"

The two said in chorus, with clear pride in their words and saluting.

"The rest of the team is going through the assessment upstairs. Miraculously we both got through!"

Said the taller clone, with humor in his voice, pulling a smirk from the tattooed clone.

You smiled, even more in awe of them. They were beautiful, unique and not "sloppy".

"Nice to meet you Hunter and… Wrecker, isn't it? My name is Y/N, I work in the lab."

The two looked at each other, minimally polite treatment to the clones was a little rare around here.

"We've heard about you. Won't you give me a warning? For… bumping into you?"

Hunter was a little suspicious, moving closer to you, watching your forehead. Looking for any evidence of injury.

"Oh no, of course not. It was an accident. I also barely looked where I was going."

You tried to be as gentle as possible, despite your brow and nose bothering you, already realizing that it couldn't be too easy for them to get along with each other. You continued:

"Trust me, I know what it's like to be bothered all the time by little jokes and to have people pick on me out of simple dislike. I'm not like the rest of the employees."

Wrecker approached you, already with a content expression on his face.

"There is! I liked her! At least someone here doesn't hate us!"

The clone pulled you into a hug, pressing his side with yours. You blushed a little, as physical contact was never common with you.

Hunter continued with a suspicious expression and his arms now crossed, making him even more imposing, just taking the look off your face, when the communicator you carried in your pocket beeped.

Brought out of your reverie by Wrecker's tight embrace and Hunter's form, you picked up your communicator to read the newly arrived messages.

"Uh… I need to go. Nala Se never give me a break. See you later guys. Hope to meet the rest of you!"

You headed towards the exit, leaving a sympathetic smile as you left the clones. They were still there, trying to absorb how kind you, a scientist, were to them.

#tbb x reader #echo x reader #star wars #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #fanfic #hunter x reader #arc trooper echo #clone simp #body/prision #echo x you #echo x fem reader #echo x y/n #star wars x reader #clone wars x reader #clone trooper x reader

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years ago

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14 for the grishaverse asks?

Anon: 14

---

(Grishaverse Ask Game!)

Do you have any specific headcanons about any characters?: oh boy DO I EVER. Especially for the SaB characters.

The Darkling is transgender, Alina uses she/they pronouns, Mal is a trans man, and they're all bisexual

Young Grisha in the Little Palace often ask what the Darkling's age is and he always answers with a different and outrageous number, saying anywhere from 6000 to 10. Everyone thinks he's just joking until they don't anymore

The Darkling makes little shadow creatures with his powers for the kids. The first time he tries it he makes a figure that's just a bit too scary and accidentally scares a kid. He panics when the kid starts crying.

Young Grisha in the Little Palace use their powers innocently all the time and learn to love that part of themselves, David making little toys for his friends and Zoya tossing other kids into leaf piles with her wind and Genya playing dress up. The Darkling and Alina create constellations together with their powers using darkness and little points of light.

A Mal that stays in the Little Palace instantly bonds with the Grisha children there because he knows what it's like to alone and feel isolated. He endears himself to Aleksander by constantly playing with the children, though it takes him some time to get used to being around them

A Mal that stays in the Little Palace would absolutely get involved in Grisha physical combat lessons

Fedyor and Ivan were very obvious about their relationship at first but thought that they were effectively keeping it hidden from everyone. Nina still makes fun of them to this day

Nina would always be running about and playing spy. Poking around in other people's things and investigating stuff

The Darkling has a lot of self loathing when it comes to Luda and how she died, and more specifically about how much he thinks she'd hate him now, knowing what he's become

Grisha in the Palace trust the Darkling enough to know his shadows aren't dangerous to them, but they really play it up to outsiders as a way to protect both the Darkling and themselves

The Darkling is a Science Dad (tm)

The Darkling works really hard to dismantle the dozens of pranks the younger Grisha set up around the Palace, but sometimes when they're targeted at someone particularly horrendous he'll look the other way

Mal and the Darkling would bond over war table talk and the Darkling would totally be floored by Mal's intelligence

The Darkling stops being scary to the Grisha basically as soon as he acts really soft towards a kid for the first time, but the Grisha in the Palace keep up appearances for the sake of his reputation cause they know how important it is to him

Alina learned to ride horses when she was very young, and it took a lot of painstaking effort and money but she soldiered through. Now she adores horseback riding and takes every chance she can get to do so

Baghra didn't ever really accept the Darkling as trans, and only started using the correct pronouns after years of stubborn refusal. The process of her using his new name was slow and excruciating, and she still doesn't acknowledge that her child is actually a man if asked directly

Mal finding out he was trans was an abrupt process, but he had a very hard time socially adjusting as well. Alina helped him a lot in that time, even working hard to convince Ana Kuya to get different clothes for him. Alina worked through a lot of extra chores and schemes to make it as easy as possible for him

Alina likes to make little suns in the rooms she's in to make them brighter, and it's now a comfort thing for her as well as Mal. Whenever he enters a room he feels strange without her light there to help him see

The Darkling's relationship with Luda was queerplatonic. She was asexual and aromantic, and they were partners. The Darkling loved her but never got the chance to tell her because of his own insecurities. He regrets it to this day

Alina and Mal used to lead baby ducks back to their mommy ducks whenever they got lost in the nearby pond

The Darkling used to be very fond of animals when he was younger, but that softness was brutally drained from him by Baghra and the rest of the world quite quickly

Mal has Opinions on the treatment of pets and animals and will absolutely give you a three hour long lecture on how to take care of your dog

Alina beats Aleksander in a horse race and he's still a sore loser about it to this day

Mal fell off of a horse once when he was younger and still has some lingering trauma around riding

Alina, Mal, and the Darkling all suffer from heavy PTSD and help each other through it often. Alina and Mal reconnect when they meet again through talking about the things they've been through, helping each other through nightmares and kissing each other's scars. Guiding each other through panic attacks and other trauma responses

Alina was especially affected by the Druskelle attack on her carriage and her near death experience, along with the slaughter of her cartographer friends in the fold and Mal's near death. She still feels guilty about what happened to her unit and has to work through it quite often. Mal and the Darkling both help

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #sab #aleksander morozova #malyen oretsev #alina starkov #darklina #malina #malarklina #headcanons #myramblings #asks and answers #ask games #mymetas #rhea-imagined

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originalwinnercheesecake · 4 years ago

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Chain of Iron theories: the adopted baby

Here is another hot discussion topic in the fandom. CC has hinted that their will be a special baby, and that they will need to be adopted. So Questions, who is giving a baby up and why? I am assuming that this is a Shadowhunter baby. I cannot see either Hypatia Vex or Kellington who party, operate a secret saloon, and take pleasure in seducing interesting artistic individuals deciding to devote themselves to parenthood. Woosley Scott is set to show up, but their is no way he wants to adopt. Every other downworlder has appeared in the future and never made reference to having raised a baby. So which shadowhunters in this series of so many parents, children, and would be couples are looking to adopt? We know that shadowhunters adoption program isn’t perfect; Ariadne being adopted by an elderly white couple who know nothing about Indian culture and Tatiana somehow being allowed to adopt Grace despite the fact that she is aggressive, clearly insane, and famously unable to care for the one child she gave birth to. But I want to hold on to hope that whoever this little baby is their story will end happily with being given a nice home and family. My Theories

Anna and Ariadne adopt Eugenia’s baby. (retracted)

This was my original theory. In COG2 we learnt that Eugenia temporarily left home because of some scandal no one really wants to talk about. It apparently involved her and some guy being caught in a “compromising position” after which said guy could have saved things by asking to marry her but did not? ??? This led many people to believe she and this guy had been immanent and that she might now be pregnant., but unable to raise the baby on her own. So she would give it up for adoption. Eugenia’s older sister Barbara had an understanding with a very nice gentleman named Oliver and kept trying to get Oliver to purpose. I wondered if maybe a reason Barbara was in such a rush to marry is she was hoping for her and Oliver to adopt Eugenia’s baby and pass them off as theirs. Now that both Barbara and Oliver are sadly deceased Eugenia would need to look into finding new parents to take he unborn child. Well spoilers relating to Eugenia state that despite having different interests and hobbies, she and Anna get along well. She also is set to become friends with Ariadne. Ariadne who really wanted to be a mom. So I thought that if Eugenia was pregnant and looking to give her child up for adoption then maybe she would ask Anna and Ariadne to adopt her baby. That had the potential to be sweet.

But we have gotten more information now, and surprise surprise, people jumped the gun to quick on what happened with Eugenia. While we still do not know what the scandal was, it is hinted to have been way less extreme/serious than premarital intimacy, and she is very unlikely to be pregnant. I am now hoping that her ex got into a fight with some other guy, she stepped in to hit the other guy with a parasol, and her ex got embarrassed about having to be saved by her and broke up with her. Something that shows the guy was a real loser.

Elias puts Baby Carstairs up for adoption

In COG2 we got a huge surprise that Sona was pregnant with her third child, unexpected as the family tree only lists her and Elias as having two children. Well actually actually the Carstairs family line is tree has parts of it that “Were lost to time”. So something clearly happened. Jem was clearly hiding something.

This pregnancy was clearly unplanned and does present some worry’s. For starters Sona is well past the age where it easier/safest for women to give have children. She was already starting to have a difficult time with it during COG2 when she finally confessed to Cordelia that she was about 3 months along. This means that she will be about 7 months along (almost ready to give birth) when we pick up again in COI. Well in the early chapter read Alastair said that his mother has been put on Bed rest with her husband staying by her side and silent brothers monitoring her. This does not sound good. Several people have theorized that even with the brothers help, she will not make it through childbirth. Now lets talk about the babies father Elias Carstairs. Elias Carstairs is even older than his wife. He spent his youth traveling the world (I read a tweet that said he has even gone between dimensions before) leading special expeditions and hunting rare and powerful demons. This sounds grand, but it was a grueling life that left him physically and emotionally scared. Tragically the Clave does not recognize mental health as a need, so they do not provide any kind of therapy or treatment for those who become traumatized. Like many poor soldiers throughout American history Elias was there for the Clave when they needed his help but it that help was not reciprocated at the end. The only comfort he found was at the bottom of the bottle. It took Elias until he was already in his 40′s to start a family, and he has struggled with being able to take care of himself enough to act as a father to the two children he and Sona have already raised. Elias is 63. He is sad and tired, and struggling to keep a handle on his sobriety. This child was unplanned. I have read tweets that show he is at least trying to support Sona, but CC reveals he is questioning if or if not he can really do this a third time. If Sona dies there is no way Elias can raise this child himself. I won’t fault him if he makes that choice, it might be the most loving thing he can do.

Who would adopt the little guy. Well the most common theory is that Alastair and Thomas would become his new dads. Now the family tree does suggest that both Alastair and Thomas are dads in the future. It also doesn’t list the names of either of their spouses (I am guessing neither had wives) so their is nothing to suggest that they do not live together raising a group of adopted children. Given the way the Cave feels about homosexual parents that could also be why Jem “lost” the records. I will not deny Thomstair becoming adopted parents is plausible, but I am not completely sure that baby Carstaris is who they will adopt. Babies are hard, they are a lot of work, and I am not convinced either Alastair or Thomas will be up to it. Look at Alastair. He is not exactly in a good place at the start of COI, and whenever fans ask CC if Alastair will make any friends she always reply that he won’t until he learns how to speak nicely to people and to be there for them when they need him. Honestly that is a thing he struggles with. He obviously loves Cordelia, but he totally pulled an Queen Elsa on her where he shut the door and shut her out for roughly 7 years of their lives, leaving her as alone as Anna was. He claims to have loved Charles but the pair spend most of COG arguing because Alastair wants Charles to spend all his time with him and Charles is struggling to balance his promotion, his public reputation, and Alastair (Important I am not saying it was wrong for Alastair to be upset about Charles engagements or to break up with him. I am just saying it seems like Charles did try to see Alastair as much as he could, and Alastair trying to pin all his emotional needs on one person, who already had so much going on, was unfair). On Thomas side well lets just say he has a lot of mixed up and complicated feeling of his own he needs to work out before he will be able to be in a healthy relationship let alone raise a child.

If Thomstair aren’t able to take care of Baby Carstairs I bet I know a long time married, long time Carstairs loving couple, who would be happy to take the little guy in and have enough resources, experience, and love to give him a great life. Hey in the future Tessa says she has kept watch over three families: the Herondales, the Carstairs, and the Blackthorns. The Herondales and the Blackthorns are her and Will’s grandchildren. If she were watching the Carstairs because they were once her friends wouldn’t she also watch out for the Fairchilds and Lightwoods?

Blackthorn Babies with Mundane and Shadowhunter mommies and daddies

(Okay this is one will involve some hopping around and several references to the family tree, so stay with me people, stay with me.) We aleady know Jem made some changes to this line. Lucie is not 12, she is 16. Tatiana is probably not going to live another 15 years. Also the tree said that Jesse dies 59, yet he actually died at 17. But future wife Lucie wants to resurrect him... which is highly illegal and should she be successful she will probably face terrible repercussions. Jesse also might not be able to live as a shadowhunter after being brought back. So even if we don’t want it, for the sake of this theory lets assume that upon Jesse’s resurrection both he and Lucie are banished and become a mundane pianist and writer. Let’s assume they also get married and have children. In order for the TDA Blackthorns to be shadowhunters at least one of Jucie’s kids would have to become a shadowhunter and move to the shadow world. I feel like Luce and Jesse would be willing to let their kids go in that case. That was all Jesse wanted growing up and Lucie is Will’s daughter. The children would just need someone they could stay with.

Now lets hop to the Lightwood family line. According to the tree Christopher and Grace get married (Grace is also listed as a Cartwright so was her adoption overturned and she rejoined her bio family?) and continue the Lightwood line down to TMI. Grace and Christopher are set up to bond (over science) and many fans are willing to believe that they are an endgame ship. But fans are also doubting that they are the ancestors of the TMI lightwoods. For one thing Christopher is heavily coded to be asexual; and Grace herself seems to have a very.... twisted and warped view of physical acts. So now lets say Grace is somehow saved from punishment over Jesse’s resurrection or because of her past trauma is given a lighter sentence. Lets say Gracetopher really do get married. if they got married they probably will apt out of having children; at least biological children.

Christopher has a younger brother , Alexander Lightwood, who seems like a much more likely candidate to continue his family line. Alex has been noted to have those dark blue eyes that while once a Herondale trait later become a Lightwood trait. He shares a first name one of TMI’s most prominent characters, and that is just about the only way baby Alex could have relevance to the story given that he is way to young to help out in the war. If Alexander Lightwood the first is one who carried on the Lightwood line why are his descendants listed under his brother and sister in laws names?

Well way back before the CC launched TLH I remember her posting a tweet that said Grace could become an ancestor of either the Herondale or the Blackthorn line. This upset a lot of people who thought that it meant that Grace may have a baby with either James or Jesse. (No, just NO!!!) But what if instead of Grace having a baby with Jesse, She and Christopher adopt one of Jesse and Lucie’s babies so that that baby could be raised as a shadowhunter? I could see Grace and Christopher doing do: they each love one of the respective parents and are set get to know the other. The only good thing about Tatiana adopting Grace was she got Jesse as a brother. Should she ever recover from having Tatiana as an adoptive mother I could see her becoming very critical of other adoptions and refusing to allow Jesse’s children to potentially end up like she did. I am in love with a head cannon I have that Christopher will become a science professor at the academy. If Lucie and Jesse have to leave the shadow world, and they have to give up their children then I want to imagine that child living in Malec’s future academy suit with Shadowhunter mommy and daddy Gracetopher while they secretly get gifts and send letters to their mundane mommy and daddy Juice. (It is the least CC can do for the pain reading about that potential exile would cause me.)

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halcyon-writings · 4 years ago

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family

requested?: yes (anonymous) //tldr, if alucard had a sibling (the reader, of course) dealing with the loss of family, both living and not

note(s)/warning(s): canonical character death, spoilers babyyyyy, violence and injury, angst it’s rare for anyone in this series to have a good time huh?, also for this being that the reader can literally look however you want, imma say Lisa isn’t white bc I do what I want and it’s my fic :) this is also the most i’ve written in a good while omg, im highkey proud so pls don’t let this flop

Lisa Tepes is dead.

Your mother, is dead.

Killed, burned alive. Gone to ashes.

All because the church had believed she was a witch of sorts. Several thoughts dance in the back of your mind as you gaze upon the pyre. Smoldering from the heat, the flames gone. Your father leaving his message, no, his warning, that he would act in one year.

“A farce that was!” You hear a shout, and you force down the bitter laugh, throat tight and eyes burning. Especially so when you slowly begin to hear continued shouts of agreement, from voices previously silent.

Here your mother was, her final resting place. Burned to ashes for some sick show of power.

And you could do nothing as she was mocked for it.

Your fist clenched at your side, you feel your nails cutting into your skin, but you walk away to return home.

And to say that the castle was no less better was an understatement. Your father was most likely in his quarters.

And when you finally sit down, the weight of your weary finally settling against your soul, do you allow yourself cry. Quiet tears turning to sobs as you muffle your voice with a pillow.

You had failed her. Missing the chance to save your mother, too late to have done anything.

But you pause, noticing the presence at your door, your brothers familiar knocking pattern resounding suddenly through the empty hall.

“Come in,” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy. As you clear your throat, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. But it wouldn’t hide the redness of your eyes.

Adrian says nothing, and a part of you wishes he did. His larger hand takes yours. A comforting squeeze.

You blink again feeling your eyes burn, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Father is...” He trails off, no doubt thinking of what he could say next.

“What he plans on doing, it’s not justice.”

You stare up at him, But it would be deserving. A bitter corner of your mind supplies.

While Adrian had taken after Mother in his demeanor, much more kinder, more welcoming. You were no doubt like Father. Reserved, distrusting, easily prone to grudges if you were wronged in some way.

But you bite your tongue.

“He gave them a year,” You murmur after some time, “But no doubt he’s ready to calling his armies.”

At this Adrian turns alarmed. the warmth from his hand slips away.

“We must stop him!”

You’re still reeling from the events from earlier today, and a part of you wishes to have no part in his attempt to try and stop your father. But then you remember your mother.

Her kindness, regardless of how she was viewed for being different.

And your warily stand anyway.

If only you had more sense. Your father remains eerily silent as he embraces you both. His hold tighter, and while Adrian seemed convinced, you saw the dark look in his eyes.

The year had passed. You weren’t surprised to hear of the bloodshed.

It was naive to expect otherwise. While reluctantly following your brother, you can only stand, frozen as your blood feels like ice in your veins as your remaining family clashes.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

They don’t hear you.

Glass shatters.

And foolishly enough, you rush forward.

With your brother injured and fleeing, and you yourself were not free from any sort of pain.

Stepping in between the two as they fought ended with a gnarly gash on your shoulder, as you fell to your knees and blood slipping past your fingers. Your father stands in front of you, like a protective pillar as your brother stares in shock, quickly wanting to help you in some way.

And then the fight is over. Your brother is gone too.

The castle is much larger and colder now.

As you’re confined to your room, the wound healing into an angry red, then to a muted and dull scar. For a moment you wished it took longer, your father guilty and you were reminded of times you had been sick when you were younger. While you had not been too keen on the typical children’s books, reading theory on physics and other sciences only seemed fun when he would read to you and you’d ask questions in between passages. (Your voice funny from a stuffy nose led to laughter and a small coughing fit but otherwise it was nice).

But now was not the time to reminisce on the happy childhood.

You know you cannot stay. Ultimately, Adrian had been right. Once you feel as though you can move your arm once again, slowly, you begin pack a small bag. You didn’t want to build up any suspicions, finding some money in your room and whenever you could take a few coins or so from your father that he would not miss.

Extra clothes were folded and put away separately.

And you make your escape on a rainy evening, the uneven droplets helping hide your tracks. But you knew now that your father had brought back Hector and Isaac, new generals to help fight in his war, you had to be weary of the night creatures that would no doubt be sent after you.

Well, you were creative. At times flying in a transformed look, no one would suspect a bat in the dark of night afterall. And it was easier to. find good vantage points that way. But to also avoid any people, you didn’t quite trust yourself to not get into an altercation with a bigot.

You rarely slept longer than necessary, especially not when those dreams were memories or nightmares.

Now that you had learned how to walk, you were a right menace. It was an uphill battle in itself to keep you in one place. You were curious and the world you knew (being your father’s vast castle) was huge. Your childlike curiosity was never let down by your adventures.

You laugh quietly, which sounds like small squeaks as you fly up and hide above the gaudy chandeliers. Your father, giant coat gone, hair tied back and in a plain dress shirt and slacks as he searched for a curious toddler.

Snickers continuing as he paces down the hall. You hop down, landing slowly and feet planting into the ground, knees bent. Before you had down the opposite direction.

The lab usually wasn’t a place you could be allowed in on your own. But having heard that your mother was there, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem! So your little legs carried you along. Until you found the familiar doorway.

Dozens of tubes and mechanisms had you turning your head as you wandered in, your shoes tapping against the marble floor.

“Now what brings you here, sweetling?” The warmth of your mother’s voice has you smiling before you see her. As you run forward and hug her side, clutching her dress in your small fists. “Not causing trouble for your father are you?”

You shake your head grin betraying your word, “Nope! I’m not doing any trouble!”

“And how since when did that happen?” She laughs gently.

“Now.”

Your brother looks up from his own books, waving before returning to work. Your nose crinkles, so much for playing experimenting. But before you can say much, your nearly yelp as you’re brought up into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“I’ve found you, little wanderer.” Your father’s voice carries no heat behind it. Then again, he was always soft hearted for you and your brother. But most of all, your mother.

“I’m not little!” You pout, “I’m big now!”

You’re taken away from your reverie at the snap of a twig.

With your lack of sleep, as you had insisted on traveling more, you were less than surprised to have been snuck up on.

“Peace, my friend,” The old man murmurs. You keep your knife in an iron grip in front of you. Who you’re guessing is his son or grandson, has his hands raised the same way, but no weapon to be seen, magic, oh good. Then again, not like you needed a knife when you could make your nails go into claws and the fangs. Don’t forget the fangs.

“I can’t exactly be peaceful when it’s the middle of the night and suddenly figures in blue robes appear out of now where,” You answer dryly. But seeing as how the others behind the main two have not done or said anything noteworthy, nor were their stances make them look like they could really fight, you lower your weapon slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Although, I shouldn’t be swinging my own weapon around either.”

The old man just smiles gently. And you can’t help but be just slightly comforted.

In the end, the speakers stop for the evening. And the Elder, despite looking like a frail old man, is firm in his decision that you stay and “eat properly.” And like a scolded child, you listen. Food and drink all but pushed into your hands as you’re quickly brought into conversation, the previous confrontation all but forgotten.

And then you perk up when he mentions Gresit.

“So... the sleeping soldier,” You begin, slowly chewing on the sweet bread you had been given. “It was true?”

The Elder nods, “My grandchild and a traveller, they had gone to explore it. Well, the traveller had gone to save my grandchild. I will not hide the fact that I was a bit doubtful. But Belmont had proved himself a man of his word. Although, he does need to drink more water.”

You blink, a look of a surprise clear on your face. Belmont...

Fuck.

“Although I hadn’t expected the legend of the sleeping soldier to be realized so quickly.”

At your inquisitive look, the Elder begins to explain. Of a holy warrior beneath Gresit, who would come to save it’s people in their most dire of hours.

“The pair had come up with a man with long hair, like gold.” You couldn’t help but let out the breath you had been holding. So the Belmont didn’t try to kill him. you could breathe a little easier at that fact.

“Where are they now?” You ask, holding the empty cup in your hands, as you stare down as though waiting for something.

Getting your answer, you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulders. You wave off the concern in staying, if it had already been several days since the Speakers had left Gresit, then you needed to cover a lot of land to get to your brother.

That is, until you saw the expression on the Elder’s face grow stern, as though he was scolding a child. With a heavier bag, one that the Elder insisted that you take some more things you could eat along the way, in exchange you give the Elder a small trinket you had been using to hide from the monsters of your father’s army, you finally set off. While your worries were not completely settled, your shoulders felt lighter. Metaphorically of course.

Of course, giving away the object that kept you hidden made it a bit more, difficult, when it came to trying to hide and travel at night. Much less even try to stop and rest.

It had barely been two days since you had left the speakers, and already, you had run into some trouble, a beastly creature’s claws barely caught on your sleeve, leaving your arm bare as you shuddered from the chill in the air. You can only sigh mournfully, you really liked that coat. But, better your sleeve than say, you actually getting wounded.

Your nails resemble claws, while your free hand holds the dagger in a steady grip. But being surrounded on all sides, it did not look promising.

Well, you thought mournfully, if you died you could at least see your mother again.

Until you hear the sound of what reminds you of a whistle? And then a sword flying through the air, slicing through the night creatures, giving you a chance to get some distance.

You hear the surprised shout of your name, and look up, to see your brother wide eyed, sword now returned to him, and a man and woman standing at his side.

“Um... hi.”

Much to your relief, the night creatures are easily taken care of.

And as you’re finally able to explain your story, you find yourself relaxing into the extra cloak given to you by the Elder.

“You mean you met the Speakers on your journey?!” A woman, petite with short blonde locks, who you learn is named Sypha, asks, and you notice the way her shoulders sag in relief.

You nod, “Yes. They all were safe.” If her shoulders sagged anymore she’d full on be slouching. You leave out the part of leaving a possibly precious trinket with them, not wanting her to think you cursed them or something.

“So you mean to tell me, Dracula, fucking Dracula, had more than one kid? That he actually had a woman not only give him not just one, but two children?” Is incredulously asked next by the scruffy looking man. Trevor, as your brother says.

You only stare in annoyance, sure your father was about to raise an army to annihilate the human populace but he didn’t used to be that way.

Before you can retort with a scathing remark of your own, Sypha elbows him harshly in the side. And you know it hurts from the way he immediately puts a hand where she hit him, eyes widening slightly. Serves him right.

“And what of...” Adrian- no Alucard as he wishes to be called, asks, near hesitant.

“Father?” You ask, arms crossed, “Same old same old. Planning the same amount of destruction here or there.”

As he looks to the snow covered earth, you roll your eyes, “Did you expect anything different?”

It’s quiet, and neither Sypha nor Trevor speak.

“No.”

You all sat around camp quietly for a while after that.

Your lungs feel like they’re being constricted. Your throat burns as you struggle to breathe, claws digging into your skin like knives. Before you’re thrown backwards, landing harshly against the wall. Books fall from the book case and your weapon clatters noisily from the ground.

You take shallow breaths, barely standing before you’re thrown once more. Curse your father’s stature and supernatural strength. You close your eyes, waiting for another attack and at least hoping to brace yourself for it, but it never came.

Instead, your brother stands in front of you, as he and your father remain in a standstill. Sypha and Trevor’s footsteps are rushing towards you three.

It all continues to move so fast, until he stops noticing the painting of your mother, as she had been holding your brother and then you as a baby, and the next thing you know, your father is staked through the heart. And with wobbly legs, you take your sword, and swing. So falls Dracula. But it felt like no victory.

You sit up with an alarmed look, stopping yourself from shouting.

That was... a dream? You rub your eyes, feeling that your cheeks are wet and you sigh.

When you see a shadow looming over you, the light of the fire giving slight visibility, you freeze. Before noticing it’s your brother and not his companions.

“Sorry,” You say, making sure to not look at him, so that he didn’t see your tears.

Quietly, he places his coat over your shoulders, sitting beside you, wrapping his own blanket loosely around his own shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You only grip the jacket lapels tighter, shaking slightly as you hiccup, unable to stop yourself from crying again.

He must think it’s because you miss your mother, and you do. But this dream was far different. And you say nothing as he brings you into his arms. Your tears having long since dried when the sun rises moments later. But you find yourself falling asleep as your brother rubs soothing circles on your back, feeling the build up exhaustion finally leaving you.

When you’re awake much later in the day you can’t help but laugh a little when Sypha scolds your brother for being mean enough to make you cry, he didn’t you assure her quick enough, although you’re back to laughing when she then turns around to scold Belmont when he makes another slight comment.

#castlevania netflix x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #castlevania netflix imagines #mine

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goddessofroyalty · 3 years ago

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I keep forgetting to post it - here’s some more of the Remake-following ‘Cloud is the Remnants carrier’ fic.

General beginning warning that this is from Hojo’s POV and therefore any character assessment given by him is likely completely wrong.

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg, Hojo’s fucked up science

So maybe the terrorists were stronger than Hojo originally anticipated.

Never mind.

They were in his lab in the middle of Shinra Tower. No matter how competent they are there is no hope for them to escape. No, they will be overpowered and a use found for their bodies if they are not summarily executed.

“Looks like your models got it wrong!” the alpha of the three says. Hojo can appreciate that he’s certainly a fine specimen of the designation – big and strong and full of the bravado to back it up. But lacking the intellect to truly realize his predicament, a common weakness among his designation.

“Yes – un unknown variable, perhaps.” Hojo will acknowledge that while the alpha has foolishly missed the entirety of his position, in the immediate he is correct. Hojo miscalculated their combined strength – he won’t make that mistake twice. “Well, no matter. Reinforcements will soon arrive.”

“But will they get here in time to save you from me?” the SOLDIER-clad member of the trio says. He’s got the eyes for it but his scent is clearly omegan. There’s never been an omega in SOLDIER, certainly not one that has such strong mako-blue in their eyes. Hojo would know if there had been – they would have made an interesting specimen with other uses than just battle fodder.

There’s something about him through that tugs at Hojo’s memory.

“My, are you a SOLDIER?” Hojo asks, more to see if the omega will reveal more information than genuine curiosity, while he follows the string in his mind to where he knows the omega from.

There’s a moment of doubt in the omega’s face and with that expression Hojo remembers. The meek little infantryman who then managed to put a wrench in Hojo’s plans. Who managed to destroy some of Hojo’s best work.

“Yeah,” the omega says, face set. It’s interesting to see how strong the glow in his eyes is. Those genetics apparently not having merely taken root in his womb but spread to the rest of his body as well. It’s amazing to see how he has been adapted as a result of it – given the facsimile of a SOLIDER’s body to be a more suited vessel.

“No, not quite. Oh now I recall.” The test tubes had been empty when Hojo had returned for the birth. Fair was hunted down and killed but they hadn’t found the omega. Hojo had assumed Fair had either abandoned him or stashed him somewhere intended to go back. Hojo had assumed the omega was now dead and the experiment another frustrating failure of recreating Sephiroth.

“My memory was mistaken. My boy, you weren’t a SOLDIER.” No, he was never going to be a SOLDIER. His body had rejected the treatments, had rejected the cells.

Apparently the answer all along had been in his designation. Had been in his womb. His body wouldn’t take it to save itself but to save the children it was carrying it would.

“Where are they?” There had been nothing in the readings over the months to indicate a miscarriage. And omegas so struggle to kill what is borne from their wombs no matter how monstrous it may be.

He doubts they perished when the plate got dropped – there would surely be more grief in the omega’s eyes.

The Turks had mentioned a trade for a child when they brought in the Ancient. Perhaps there is more to that story that they were keeping hidden for now – plotting away to their own ends as they do.

The day was certainly turning out to be an interesting one. One with many potential rebirths back on the table.

Hojo will tell the reinforcements not to harm the omega ‘SOLDIER’ among the terrorists. Even if he cannot get the location of the previous three out of him there is value to be had. An answer to the question of how much his body had taken on to carry that precious life. A chance for even more to be born into the world.

#mpreg #Omegaverse #Final Fantasy mpreg #Final Fantasy Omega Verse #Cloud Strife #hojo #tw Hojo #I accidently a ficlet #cloud is the remnants carrier

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captainscanadian · 4 years ago

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Love Me Blue | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Janmashtami)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: When you were younger, you had always dreamed of falling in love with someone who would love you like Lord Krishna loved Radha. A dream that once felt as though it was silly no longer felt that way.

Word Count: 4400+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tamilian!Hindu!Reader

Warnings: MINIMAL TAMIL SONG LYRICS (I’m more than happy to translate!) & TAMIL CULTURE, References to Hinduism, PTSD, Insomnia, Endgame References.

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-smiles‘s 3K Diversity Writing Challenge! My prompt was to write a fic with a Hindu reader. I decided to write this fic with a Tamilian reader because I am Tamilian. I was born in Sri Lanka and my mother’s side of the family are Hindu. Although I consider myself an agnostic theist, I do enjoy reading the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana. I hope everyone had a wonderful Janmashtami. Along with Lord Krishna himself, it’s also @jalapenobarnes‘ birthday this weekend so please go shower Saran with all the love. This one’s for you, my chellam! <3 Pics are off of Pinterest!

Bucky Barnes watched curiously as he sat cross-legged on the tiled floor of your living quarters, splashing a handful of water on the bright green banana leaf that you had laid out in front of him.

Even though your apartment had a designated dining room with an oak wood table and chairs, he wondered why you preferred to be eating on the living room floor. Not to mention the way you had chosen to serve him on a banana leaf than a plate.

As much as he found it bizarre, he was also curious about the traditions that you seemed to follow. Not just through the way you ate your meals, but also the way you honored your dead best friend and the way you had filled your apartment with idols and paintings of your Hindu God. It came as a surprise to him that someone as young and well-educated as yourself could even hold onto the traditions that you had been raised with despite having settled away from your home for years.

Bucky had been surprised to find that as the decades had progressed, traditions had evolved with the emergence of a post-modern society. The way people had practiced religion had also evolved with time, but the way you practiced yours seemed to be the same as the way his own mother had practiced hers back in the day.

You did not conform to modern life for the sake of it, and he found that inspiring. The old Bucky who had always been fascinated by all that science had to offer would probably disagree with you. But having lived a whole century as one of HYDRA’s science experiments made him wish that he could return to the pre-modern society that he had been born into. He hated confirming with the status quo as much as the next guy, but seeing you made him realize that he did not need to force himself to confirm either. He could be himself, as long as he could figure out who exactly he was meant to be.

“According to my grandmother, eating off of a banana leaf is a lot more healthier than eating off of a plate. Apparently the nutrients in the leaf can mix with the food.” You explained to him as you served him some of the rice, careful not to overcrowd the banana leaf. You knew that he was unfamiliar with the dishes, but also appreciated that he was willing to try out a new cuisine at this witching hour. “She said that it’s good for the immune system, prevents intestinal ulcers, skin diseases… soothes the stomach, helps with digestion and prevents kidney stones.”

He nodded, understandably. “Right…” He agreed, not having the heart to tell you that the super soldier serum in his body ensured that his cells would constantly regenerate and prevent him from falling ill. Nevertheless, he found your endearment quite refreshing. You really did treat him like he was Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th and not the Winter Soldier, and he was grateful for that.

“We’re used to eating off of the leaf during special occasions or when we have guests.” You added. “There’s a Buddhist and Hindu philosophy... Atithi Devo Bhava. It literally means that the guests must be given the same respect as you would give to your Gods. And since you’re my guest tonight, you get the banana leaf.”

“I’m no God, Y/N.” Bucky clarified, sighing as he ran his metal hand through his greasy hair. “I’m a human being, a brainwashed assassin, a weapon of destruction who brought so much pain in people’s lives. I don’t deserve to be treated with so much respect.”

“Bucky…” You frowned at his words before shaking your head. “As the one who spent most of my life studying the life of Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th, I beg to differ. I know that you have a lot of internalized guilt about those days and I don’t blame you for that. But you can’t let the Winter Soldier define who you are. You’re more than who you used to be when you were brainwashed. It wasn’t who you were.”

“To be honest, I don’t even think I know who I am anymore…” He admitted, a truth that he hadn’t told anyone else at the compound but felt that he could trust you with.. “But I know for sure that I don’t deserve to be respected like you respect your God.”

“You should let me be the judge of that. My concept of God is actually quite different from the Abrahamic religions that you happen to be familiar with.” You protested with a soft chuckle, crossing your legs to sit across from him. “My grandmother once told me that Lord Krishna… being the God of love and compassion, he’s always present in one’s heart. Wherever there’s love, he’s always there. If there’s love in your heart, he’s there. And that makes you just as Godly as anyone else.”

“I’m the world’s longest prisoner of war who spent most of my life imprisoned in a cryofreezer. There’s nothing Godly about the life that I’ve had to live.” He shook his head. “If anything, I’m a symbol of pain and suffering.”

“Well, Lord Krishna was born in prison.” You remarked. “His life was meant to be filled with so much love… It started on Janmashtami, in a prison cell where his parents were locked up by his own maternal uncle. Even in all that pain and suffering, the betrayal that Lord Krishna’s parents had to face… they were blessed with a child who was the incarnate of the supreme God himself. All that pain and suffering led to some kind of reward, and I’m sure you’ll get yours in due time. Sri Krishna never discriminates, and he forgives those who are truly remorseful of their sins. He’s the God of compassion after all.”

Bucky could not help but chuckle softly at your words. For every word of self-hatred that came out of his mouth, you had your own rebuttal that was rooted in your faith. He was left with no choice but to accept his defeat and give in to being treated as your guest for the night. It was the least he could do other than make use of that computer he had been given to catch up with the world by looking up Lord Krishna. “So, what’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Okay!” You exclaimed, pointing to the rice dish that you had placed in the center of the leaf. “Ven pongal, basically made from rice and yellow lentils. It’s also got some peppercorns, cumin, turmeric, ginger, curry leaves and cashews that I fried in some clarified butter. That’s why it smells so good. Don’t worry about the spices though. This is probably the mildest dish I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

Bucky nodded as he looked up at you. “Do you make this often?”

“It’s a traditional breakfast food in South India, but it also makes for the ultimate comfort food when I’m missing home.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders before grabbing the bowl of sambar and pouring it over the rice. “Now this might be a little spicy for you. But it’s the side dish of all side dishes. Sambar, basically a mixed vegetable stew with lentils and spices. Great with most South Indian breakfast foods.”

“And what about the rest?” He asked as he eyed the remainder of the delicacies that you had laid out before him. He could not deny that the warm aroma that wafted up his nostrils made them much more appetizing. Despite it being past midnight, he was starved.

“Medhu vada… deep fried lentil fritters, coconut chutney to dip ‘em in… and kesari, dessert made from semolina.” You pointed to the items as you placed them on the banana leaf. “I hope you don’t mind eating with your hand. We don’t really use utensils and I kind of forgot to pick some up. If it makes you feel any better, the right hand is commonly used to eat so…” You motioned towards his hand. “Dig in?”

He raised his eyebrow at your words. “I guess that was very convenient for me.” He joked before looking down at the food and back at you. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”

You chuckled softly before shrugging at his question. “It’s alright, Bucky. I can eat after you. It’s not polite to eat before the guest.”

“Y/N, come on… you just said that you made all of this food because you were feeling homesick. I can’t eat all of this without you.” He clarified with a smile.

You looked down at your lap in embarrassment as you felt your cheeks heat up. “I kind of only bought one banana leaf because I thought I would be the one eating all of this food.” You told him, shamelessly. “I didn't think I would have company, not that I don’t want you here or anything. I invited you to eat but… my grandmother says it’s rude to eat right out of the serving bowls if you’re going to be serving the food to someone else. I don’t mind waiting until you’re done and helping myself to your leftovers.”

A part of him could not believe how bound you were to your grandmother’s words, especially when it came to your dining etiquette. Despite the fact that your grandmother had been someone to hold you back from your potential, he admired that you still respected her enough to follow through with the culture that she had taught you.

“Fine, then if you don’t mind…” He reached down to grab a dollop of the pongal and sambar with his thumb and two fingers, carefully holding his hand up towards your mouth. “Let me at least feed you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his gesture and you found your cheeks heating up in embarrassment once again. “Um…” You gulped, not knowing how to react to that. A part of you wanted to accept his offer, but the pitter patter against your heart mimicked the rain against your window and caused you to become very nervous.

As much as you had denied it when you were around the rest of the team, you knew that you did have a slight crush on Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th Infantry Regiment when you had first watched through the archival footage from the war. After all, who wouldn’t. At that time, you had believed that he was dead so it didn’t mean much. But now he was very much alive and sitting right before you. He was certainly a good looking man who’s smile could light up the world, and unbeknownst to you he had just lit up yours.

You had spent years studying his life, along with the rest of The Howling Commandos, in the name of academic curiosity. But you could not deny that now seeing him in person changed how you really felt about this man. Not many people who studied historical figures had the chance to see them face to face. But this had happened to you twice now, and it still felt surreal. Bucky Barnes really was sitting on the floor of your living quarters, about to feed you a bite of your most favourite South Indian comfort food. What kind of idiot would you be not to accept it?

You accepted the bite of food that Bucky had offered you, bringing your hand over to cover your mouth as you chewed. Your lips curling into a small smile as your eyes glazed over, you looked down at your lap.

For some reason, eating from this man’s hand had made you miss your father quite so much. Seven years it had been since he had passed away. You never even got to say goodbye, the last time you had spoken on the phone being an argument that you had ended abruptly by hanging up on him. Had you known what was going to happen just hours later, you would have done things differently. You would have cherished the last moments you got to share with your father. Hell, you would have even prevented him from dying the way he did. But it was all too late now.

Perhaps you suffered from internalized guilt just as much as the super soldier who sat before you, for you did feel partially responsible for your father’s death. Being an agent who was meant to save the world and all, you couldn’t even manage to save your own father. While this did once make you doubt your skills as an agent, you could not deny that you would give anything to be able to do right by the man who had raised you to be anything more than a typical Indian farm girl. But for now, all you had to do was exist for the sake of existing and accept the position that you had been given. Do the right thing, just as your father had taught you.

When you had been five years old, your grandmother had told you the story of how Lord Krishna was married to more than sixteen thousand women. She had told you that he married every woman who loved him. He loved them back just as much too, being the God of love after all. But the woman he loved the most, he hadn’t even been married to her. Radha Rani was the love of his life. She was his soulmate. Despite not being married, their love for each other was so pure and eternal.

It was then you told your father, in your childish little voice, “Appa, I want someone to love me like Lord Krishna loved Radha.”

Now as you swallowed the bite that Bucky Barnes had fed you, you couldn't help but look over his broad shoulders. Up on the wall behind him you had hung one of the many paintings of Radha and Krishna that you owned. But in that particular one, Radha and Krishna were affectionately gazing into each other’s eyes while feeding each other.

It didn’t seem like a sign to you then, but you prayed for some things to be made clearer in due time. After all, you were going to be here for a while. If Lord Krishna was really going to bless you with the kind of love that makes you blue after all of that pain and suffering, then you might as well accept it like you had just accepted that bite of food from Bucky.

“Tell me the truth, Bucky.” You looked over at the man who sat next to you on the couch, his legs crossed as he leaned against the armrest. “Why are you even up at this hour?”

Bucky Barnes looked over at you and let out a sigh, not knowing if lying to you about his insomnia would sell. After all, you seemed to know him better than he knew himself despite the fact that you had met just yesterday. While he feared that admitting the truth would cause you to become weary of him, he knew better than to lie to the woman who was in a position of authority. He had to be transparent with you, mainly because he didn’t have the heart to lie to you.

“I can’t sleep.” He admitted, biting down on his bottom lip as he sat up straight, his elbows resting against his thighs as he covered his face with his hands. “I haven’t slept properly in a while, ever since I moved into the compound really. Every night I go to bed at a reasonable time. But I still end up waking up at this strange hour because of some nightmare.”

Leaning over to rest your hand on his shoulder, you wanted to give him a squeeze. But you were quick to realize that his left shoulder was vibranium, so instead you moved your hand to rub his back. “Have you talked to Sam about it?”

Not that you would assume that his friendship with Sam was anything like his friendship with Steve. As someone who had your own demons, you knew that it was not that easy to confide in someone about something like this. But you were well aware that Sam had some experience offering support groups to veterans who suffered from PTSD during his time working at the VA back in DC. He seemed to be much more equipped to handle something like this than you were, no doubt about that. But since you were now the boss around here, you knew that something needed to be done to address the mental health of your heroes.

Bucky shook his head. “He’s always been weary of me, Y/N. I don’t think I should worry him about this. The last thing I want is for anyone to think that the Winter Soldier is still in me when he’s not.”

“Sam can be an asshole at times… but he means well. He cares a lot about his friends, and that includes you and me.” You admitted. “But I know what you mean. What you’re going through, it’s not easy. You’ve had to deal with a lifetime’s worth of torture under HYDRA, along with the whole thing with the blip. The world has changed so much that it’s not all that easy to keep up with anymore.”

He looked up at you and frowned. “I feel so lost, you know? Like I don’t know where I should start. I’ve missed out on seventy years of… life. The life that I knew before the war is gone and the life that I had since then… is full of torture and bloodshed. I’m just lost in the midst of it all.”

“Bucky, you do know that… if you ever want to talk about anything that has to do with history or what happened in the world during those seventy years, you can just talk to me about it, right? I may have a Master’s degree on The Howling Commandos but I do know a thing or two about what happened in the world after the war.” You offered, finally cracking a smile. “I can definitely help you out with catching up with times.”

He chuckled softly at your words. “Is that how you and Steve… became friends?”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the mention of Captain America, a man whom you had respected and aided in the recovery of until Natasha had decided to set the two of you up on a date. It was a brief fling while the two of you had worked together in DC. But once you had realized it wasn’t going to work, you had ended things amicably. While you had remained friends and you had helped him catch up with the world, things had changed so much around you.

“Yeah, I guess.” You admitted with a shrug. “He needed someone to catch him up to the world and Fury realized that he hired a history major. I think it worked out for all of us.” Looking back now, you only felt blessed to have known Steve Rogers. He was not only an inspiration, but also one of your closest friends. “And that’s why I’m offering to help.”

“But how could you help me, Y/N?” He asked. “What can you possibly do to help me come to terms with who I am?”

“Well, I had Steve read through the Internet a lot and make a list of all the things he wanted to try… like Thai food and Sherlock Holmes. I know that you’re not going on any missions right now. You’re just hanging around the compound and trying to kill time, right? I’d say… make use of the computers we have here, learn as much as you can. We can talk about it. But don’t ever think that you’re alone in this.”

The Internet was a great place to start learning, right? Surely, Bucky had been apprehensive about taking that step. But he needed to be given a little push. Thankfully, he now had you for that. “I guess I can do that.” He gave in, for he was starting to get bored of the facility’s gym.

“There is something that needs to be done about your nightmares though.” You pointed out. “This compound needs an on-site therapist. I need one. You need one. Wanda needs one. We all need one after all this crap that we’ve had to deal with.” You made a mental note to make some calls in the morning, but for now you knew that your attention should be on the super soldier. “But right now, you really need to get some sleep.”

Bucky shook his head in defeat. “I can’t seem to fall asleep in my bed, Y/N. Believe me, I’ve tried… for many nights. I guess I just have to suck it up and kill time until the morning.”

You raised your eyebrow at his words before crossing your arms against your chest. “What? Do you need me to sing you a lullaby or something?” You asked him, teasingly.

He laughed at your question before shaking his head. “As if that’s ever going to work on me…”

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky Barnes had no clue how it even happened. Just twenty-four hours ago, the two of you had been strangers who had nothing in common except for the fact that you both shared a past that had been perfectly entwined somehow. But now you were sitting against the headboard of his queen sized bed in the living quarters adjacent to yours, his head resting against your lap as he shut his eyes.

Your soft hands running through his silky dark hair, you sang the words that you had pretty much memorized by now. It was a lullaby that your grandmother had sung to you when you were younger, written about how Lord Krishna himself had fallen asleep after a long day of playing around his village.

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Avan Vaai Niraiya Mannai Undu

Mandalathai Kaattiya Pin

Oiveduthu Thoongugindraan, Aaraaro

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Pinnalitta Gopiyarin Kannathile Kannam Ittu

Mannavan Pol Leelai Seidhaan Thaalelo

Pinnalitta Gopiyarin Kannathile Kannam Ittu

Mannavan Pol Leelai Seidhaan Thaalelo

Andha Mandhirathil Avar Uranga

Mayakkathile Ivan Uranga

Mandalame Urangudhammaa Aaraaro

Ayarpadi Maaligaiyil

Thaai Madiyil Kandrinai Pol

Maaya Kannan Thoongugindraan, Thaalelo

Bucky Barnes had no clue how it even happened. But as he listened to the melody of your lullaby, he had drifted off into a deep slumber. When he woke up the next day, he found that you were gone. But he knew that you were the one to thank for helping him sleep after many months of waking up from nightmares.

As the weeks went by, you and Bucky had become quite close. As most of the team were gone for days at a time because of their respective missions, the two of you often found yourselves being the only ones remaining at the compound. Despite your loneliness, you somehow found comfort in each other.

Your free time was usually spent cooking up a storm in the common kitchen, and Bucky found himself frequently joining you for your meals. He had taken quite the liking to South Indian cuisine, but he had also kept his promise of making you a completely vegetarian Wakandan meal - something that he apparently prepared by video-calling the Queen Mother of Wakanda herself and asking her for recipes.

“Does this mean you have diplomatic immunity? Being the adoptive child of Queen Ramonda and all…” You had joked. “They call you the White Wolf, don’t they?”

“Did you ever have to use your diplomatic immunity?” He had asked you mockingly. “Being the daughter of an Indian diplomat after all.”

“Bucky, could you please give Queen Ramonda my regards? Let her know that Agent Y/L/N, the daughter of Ambassador Y/L/N, sends her regards and thanks the royal family for all of their help.” You hadn’t been all that familiar with the Wakandan royal family during the reign of King T’Chaka, but it was only after his death did you have the chance to work closely with them. After all, you understood the pain that they had been dealing with all too well.

Bucky was not familiar with why you seemed to know them so well. He had just assumed it must be because of your career in diplomacy before you became an agent. He did not think much of it though, at least not until he had told Shuri that you gave their family your regards.

While the truth behind your relationship with the Wakandan royal family had certainly shaken him to his core, he did not make it known that he knew about it. After all, it was a huge part of your own personal life and you were just his boss. He did not feel the need to let you know that he knew something about you that you might not have wanted you to know. But instead, he continued to learn more about you and the culture that you were raised in.

The Internet was a great place when it came to catching up with the world. He had read just about everything he could get his hands on, from history to literature and science. While he tried to keep up with how much the world had changed, he had also read as much as he could about your religion.

He often joined you on your visits to the temple in the city after noticing that you made it a habit to go there every Friday. When Janmashtami came around, Bucky had offered to help you paint footprints from your front door to your shrine of Lord Krishna.

According to your grandmother, the tradition of painting baby footprints was done believing that Lord Krishna would follow them and enter your home. You had been doing that every single year on Janmashtami for as long as you could remember. But that year, you just knew. It was the first year that Krishna had entered your home for real.

#3kdiversity #aj writes #love me blue #janmashtami #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x desi!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series

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victorluvsalice · 3 years ago

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AU Thursday: Fallout Of Darkness -- A Half-Decent Sum-Up Of The Pre-War Timeline

If you follow my RP tumblr, @thevalicemultiverse, you may have seen this before (barring a few edits I made just now) -- I wrote this up as background for putting Fallout of Darkness into play over there as an RP verse. It’s as good a write-up as I currently have for Alice and particularly Victor’s lives before the bombs fell, so might as well bring it over here for more general consumption! Enjoy!

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Alice Liddell shares most of her backstory with her Londerland Bloodlines counterpart: she’s born in 1984, loses her family to Bumby’s obsession with her sister, hallucinates her way through the horrors of Rutledge and Houndsditch with Wonderland serving as a horrific psychological dreamscape for her to get her sanity back under her, realizes Bumby’s behind all her pain and is a child trafficker, kills him, moves to Los Angeles for a fresh start, and gets illegally Embraced by Malkavian Fish and ends up errand girl to Prince Sebastian LaCroix. In this reality, though, she lives through something much closer to the standard Bloodlines plot (albeit filtered through the “all tech is at least kinda 50s sci-fi” lens of Fallout) – including saving Heather Poe instead of Victor, and finding nothing in the Giovanni basement except regular old zombies. She pushes through all the bullshit of Camarilla vs Anarchs vs Kuei-Jin vs Sabbat, convinces Heather to leave when it transpires she’s being really badly affected by Alice’s Malkavian blood (to the point of luring a guy to the haven and then locking him in the bathroom for Alice to eat), and eventually chooses the independent life, killing Ming-Xiao, letting LaCroix blow up with his tower, and flipping off the Anarchs when they try to recruit her. She flees Los Angeles completely shortly thereafter, and spends most of the rest of the next seventy-odd years on the move around America, avoiding possible reprisals from the Camarilla and watching the world go to hell in a handbasket with resources running out and the war for the last great oil pipeline. She finds shelter in Boston in October 2077, and is sleeping away the day in a presumed-safe building when the bombs drop. While she’s luckily buried in a sunlight-blocking pile of rubble, she’s also staked by a falling beam. . .and remains so for the next two centuries. . .

Victor Van Dort, on the other hand, is born in 2050, to Nell and William Van Dort of Burtonsville. William is in the fish business, and moves his family to the USA when Victor is still just a baby to seek new opportunities. What he and his wife and son get is the New Plague, forcing them to stay in Massachusetts due to quarantine measures. Despite this, William still manages to become a fish cannery mogul, making millions off his automated factories. Victor himself grows up almost entirely confined to the house and gardens, cared for and taught by a variety of robots until he was fourteen and it was deemed safe enough for him to attend a normal high school. The gardens taught him to love nature, but his caretakers taught him to love science and technology – while still a hobbyist lepidopterist, Victor is much more a tinkerer and technician in this world. Having to help fix the family’s Protectron driver, Mayhew, when he falls apart almost right in front of you will do that to a boy! He’s just more comfortable with machines than people – a fact that doesn’t make him popular in school.

In his senior year of high school, Victor is pushed to date Victoria Everglot by his parents, seeing her family’s noble history (some relative way-back-when in England was a Grand Duke) as a good way to improve their own social standings. Victor goes along with it after realizing he likes Victoria herself a fair bit, and the two soon become boyfriend and girlfriend. A few months into the relationship, though, Victor comes across a gravely-injured Emily Merrimack-Cartwell in the park, the victim of an elopement that turned out to be an excuse to rob and murder her. Victor is able to rush her to the hospital in time, and the two become friends in the aftermath. Victoria, noticing that they seem to have a growing attraction, decides she doesn’t want Victor to feel obligated to continue dating her if he’d prefer to be with Emily and actually encourages them to go to prom together. They agree after confirming she’s okay with that, and that she won’t be missing out herself. They start out having a good time together, but midway through Victoria goes to the ladies’ room and doesn’t return. Victor and Emily, concerned, go looking for her and find her being menaced by none other than Emily’s ex Barkis – apparently not satisfied with what he got off Emily, he’s now trying to rob and possibly kidnap Victoria. Victor and Emily take him down and get him carted off to jail, to Victoria’s eternal gratitude. The experience bind them all together as a trio, and – coupled with the discovery that Victoria and Emily feel much the same about each other as they do about Victor – they decide to just all date each other and see where the chips fall.

And then the draft comes and Victor is yanked into military service. He ends up a combat engineer in the Engineer Corps, and is assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 108th Infantry Regiment, aka “Fox Company.” While he makes some friends in fellow soldiers Nate Howard and Sam “Bonejangles” Thatcher, Victor loathes his experiences as a soldier, especially as his unit is protecting the Alaskan Pipeline on the Alaska border and watching as the US annexes Canada. Things come to a head when his commanding officer tries to get him to shoot two Canadian kids who were throwing rocks at their camp – an enraged Victor shoots the officer instead, then gets wrapped up in a sudden enemy attack on said camp (a small company of Chinese infiltrators in stealth suits -- one accidentally decloaked in his surprise over Victor killing his target), spiriting the kids to safety before managing to save the rest of his company via fast fixing of their defenses and rigging up some explosive power armor. The chaos makes it impossible for the upper brass to know for sure Victor killed the officer (though they’re deeply suspicious), and the fact that everyone else is calling him a hero (plus his father being willing to pay good money for his son’s safe return) leads to him going home for good. Having married Victoria while on leave earlier, they take in Emily as a “live-in friend and help around the house” (wink wink), and the three move to the little community of Sanctuary Hills. They have a good couple of years there, culminating in the birth of Victor and Victoria’s son Shaun. Victor, despite his worries about the resource shortages, the war with China, and his own government possibly looking for a way to silence him whenever he makes his opinions about same known, starts thinking that maybe things can be all right for him and his family at least. . .

And then, on October 23rd, 2077, the bombs hit. Victor and his family get to Vault 111 just in time, and are processed and cyronically frozen as per the experiment. However, things go bad with a security staff revolt, and the frozen family is left easy pickings for some mysterious scientists to come in, shoot Victoria, and kidnap Shaun right before Victor’s horrified eyes. When he is revived again, he finds that the life support failed for the rest of the residents (including Emily, whose pod partially thawed her and left her half-rotted), leaving him the sole survivor – apart from his missing son. He escapes the vault and returns to what’s left of Sanctuary Hills, vowing to find Shaun.

Finding Shaun turns out to be more difficult than imagined – the world above is a dangerous place, and Victor is ill-prepared to deal with it. Fortunately, he makes some friends right off the bat – his old Mr. Handy Codsworth; a German Shepherd waiting for him at the local Red Rocket, who is later revealed to be named Dogmeat; and Preston Garvey, last of the Commonwealth Minutemen, whom Victor saves from raiders at the Museum of Freedom in Concord while looking for other signs of life. Victor welcomes Preston and his settlers to live in Sanctuary, and joins up with Preston’s efforts to revive the Minutemen and make it a force for good in the wasteland (being named General by Preston in the process, a move that baffles him and his 2 Charisma). Helping settlers leads him down to Diamond City, where he was told by slightly-psychic Mama Murphy he could find some help. He befriends reporter Piper Wright there, and ends up getting her help to find her missing friend detective Nick Valentine when it transpires he – and with him, Victor’s best hope for finding Shaun – has vanished.

And during their adventures to track down Nick’s precise location, they come across a raider base, are attacked by a raider who yanks a bloody stick out of a pile of rubble – and are introduced to Alice when she bursts from the rubble and sucks the guy dry. Alice hastily informs them that she’s not a threat to them (she was just thirsty after, you know, two centuries of being staked), and they end up trusting her enough to take down the rest of the raiders with her. Victor does his best to explain what’s happened to her, and she does her best to explain her vampiric nature to him. Feeling bad for her, and like he’s finally found a kindred spirit in all this (uh, no pun intended), he invites her to travel with him, switching to a night time schedule to accommodate her. . .at least, until they go to a certain quarry mined by Dunwich Borers to clear out the raiders there. . .

#fallout of darkness #sole survivor Victor #Malkavian Alice #long post #I've been meaning to make a post like this for a while #particularly bringing up the whole 'Victor killing an officer protecting some kids' thing #and then I realized #I'd done it already for my RP blog #so why not just bring it over here?#hopefully you all find this informative and entertaining #probably bits and pieces of this will change as the verse continues to develop #but for now this is a good starting point for any fanfic I may want to do #queued

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slippinmickeys · 4 years ago

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Circle

This was for the #XFSmut2020 exchange. I had the lovely @kyouryokusenshi whose prompt was: “Post MSIV pregnancy sex. Scully’s hormones are raging and everything is tender.”

To look at her, curled up on her side in their bed, you couldn’t tell she was pregnant.

Hair fanned out on the pillow like it had been styled by a beauty team; curled about her on a wave of titian silk, her face soft, but composed -- stately in her age, but still beautiful.

He moved a hand lightly under the covers and ran it over the swell of her stomach, felt the firmness push back at him. A baby swam inside; cells dividing, constructing and nurturing, half him, half her. It felt like even more of a miracle this time though they’d done it once before. He adopted the same credo he had the last time, with William: best not to question it.

They had a firm due date. It was easy to calculate -- the vibrating psychosis of Little Judy leaving an indelible mark on not just their psyche, but their calendar, too. He remembered back to that night. Lying with her in his arms, Scully wondering aloud if he could and would find someone new to start a family with. Like he could just go to a market and select a bride. Here, this one.

Somebody else? Didn’t she know that wasn’t possible? He hadn’t been able to see anyone but her since she’d clipped into his basement office and blinded him with science.

She sniffed slowly to awareness beside him, eyelids fluttering open as she moved to put her own hand on top of his.

“‘Morning,” she rasped.

“Hey,” he said.

The morning sun shot bands of light through the shades and over the floor of the bedroom, creeping incrementally closer toward their bed as it rose.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, he leaned over and kissed her, once, twice. Breathing in the sleepy musk of her breath, the smell of hair that had soaked in a jasmine bubble bath the night before and dried on a feather pillow. He couldn’t get enough of her. Not for 25 years, not for 25 more.

“Mm,” Scully hummed as he fell back against his own pillow, and she reached out with a foot to burrow it under his calf.

She had told him only the night before how much she was enjoying this stage of pregnancy - past that miserable first stage and well on into the second trimester. How the last time she’d been so miserable missing him that even the little joyful things -- getting that first sonogram picture, feeling the first flutterings of movement -- were lost in the haze of her grief. How now she was enjoying them twofold, three. Once for herself, once for him, and once for William, who was still out in the world, connected to them by the tethers of biology and shared jeopardy.

He felt her pull her foot out from under him and then started running just her toes gently up the skin of his leg, and he cocked his eyebrows at her in question. She cocked hers right back. Right, he thought. This stage of pregnancy also came with the full flush of hormones, as likely to turn her amorous as they were to make her say “I’m turning food into a person, you get to fold laundry.”

His crotch leapt to attention. ...Leapt wasn’t the right word, he thought. Things didn’t much leap anymore, but they rose admirably to duty whenever called upon, and that was something considering this day and his age.

“Agent Scully, are you coming on to me?” his voice rumbled in the quiet of the room.

She nodded solemnly.

The nights were for passionate, sometimes desperate coupling in the dark -- but mornings were for slow, languorous bouts of lovemaking that they’d been denied so much in their lives together. This morning felt no different, the acreage of their bed laid out for exploration of each other, in the sluggish time before that first cup of coffee. He rolled toward her, nosing her cheek before darting out a tongue to taste her lips.

How strange to imagine his world with her still in it; that short, cheerful physicist with her herringbone suit and extended hand; she’d looked like a co-ed. He’d planned to launch her into the stratosphere, had known her game, with her little notes — she’d been a spy but too much of an ingenue to know it, and seven years later he’d slept with the enemy and fallen irreversibly in love with her. Or was it the other way around?

She climbed onto him deliberately, without haste, the camisole she’d slept in pulled off somewhere between his nostalgia and her lips.

“Where are you?” she asked breathily, the dew of her mons coming to rest on his thigh.

“With you,” he said, running a lazy hand up her side, grazing the side of her breast with fingertips. He was always with her, even if she wasn’t around, his internal radar tuned to her frequency like a NOAA buoy pinging in the dark.

She breathed out deeply, her hot breath ruffling the wiry hairs on his chest. A solid third of them were grey now, as were those in his beard, and he liked to think he’d earned them in the field, chasing mutants and monsters, but the bare truth of it was, he’d gotten them while pining for her like Pyramus, held at bay by a wall of his own making. The last few years without her had been tough.

At times he could see that Scully wasn’t yet used to this more thoughtful Mulder, and occasionally braced herself for his abrupt departure, his inevitable decline into a dog on a scent, falling into the habit of sisphysian search. But instead he would stand there, remain quiet and true, and she would ease back into him with her renewed faith.

She reached down and grabbed both his hands, lacing her fingers through his, and then raised his arms up and over his head. Her mouth was even with his and she took sipping kisses at them, the arc of her belly brushing against his torso.

Her curves were rounder now, more carnose than sharp, lending her an air of lushness that made his cock ache. He would take her any way he could get her, but this gravid Scully was of Nanaya, Eostre, Hedone. A fertility sculpture come to life.

She slowly ground her sex into his thigh and he chased her mouth with his own as she pulled back a few teasing inches. He longed to hold her, touch her, but he let her take the lead and slowly, so slowly, she relaxed her grip on his hands and inched down his body, the hard points of her nipples just grazing the skin of his chest as she moved lower and lower.

She shifted until her mouth was hovering over the tent of his boxers, and she flicked her eyes to his and gave him a slow, lascivious grin. He suddenly felt short of breath. She worked her fingers into the waist of his underwear and he tilted up his hips to help her pull them off.

The anticipation of her hot little mouth lowering itself onto his cock was almost more exquisite than the act itself. But then, oh then her tongue was swirling around him and the heat and the slick and the pull of her mouth was, as always, a revelation.

This woman, this woman who would shoot him to save him, who would tell off bosses and brothers and fish him out of the Atlantic. He liked to remind her that she’d been held in contempt of Congress for him, like some 70’s era Post reporter, and she’d mimic driving a snow cat and he would get quiet with the brass-tasting memory of fear. They were foxhole soldiers, brothers-in-arms, each willing to hug the grenade while telling the other to run. Their love was a devotion, a decades-long experiment in tolerance and gravity. It was the only supernatural thing he’d never once doubted.

She hummed happily around the length of him, and Mulder sank boneless into the bed, moving one hand gently into her hair, not pulling or pushing, just needing to touch her. She had one hand cupping the base of him, and her mouth slid over him like a silken sheath. He had never wanted to ask her how she’d honed her blowjob prowess, but she was an artist of the genre, a true master, a Catholic schoolgirl fantasy come to life.

Just in time to save his reputation, she let him slide out of her mouth and crawled back up the length of him, settling tightly into his side, her tongue finding the sensitive spot just behind his ear.

With a low growl he raised himself to his elbows and canted himself on top of her, situating himself between her legs, their child resting between them in the cradle of her hips. He ran a hand along her belly reverently before gliding straight home, eliciting a breathy sigh from her lips.

Her head sunk back into the pillows, the rumpled cotton framing her face which was a mask of carnal harmony, her look one of both pleasure and pain, the sock and buskin of sexual euphoria.

He rocked into her slowly but firmly, the blunt head of his penis bumping into her sensitive cervix at the apex of every thrust. God, how was he to survive this? She was humming under him, rocking her hips forward slightly with his every thrust, her ample breasts bouncing, keeping time.

He thought back to their first sexual encounter, that heady feeling of discovery; shucking off her apple green sweater and uncovering a sex bomb underneath. She’d been wanton, just a season or two past quarter life and thrumming with sexual energy. The pent up longing; seven years of such a desperate love that when they came together, it had been practically atomic.

Now, their bodies knew each other, clicked into place with ease and comfort. No less passion, but more than enough love. He flashed on an old Harry Chapin song: and the years keep on rollin’ by.

He grabbed her leg and pulled it higher and he sunk into her flesh almost more than he could bear, her pregnant flexibility wreaking havoc with his restraint.

He felt more than heard her moan, a quiet rumbling in the base of her throat and he knew that she was close. He pressed his middle finger into her mouth and she sucked it with enthusiasm, and once again he feared he might not be able to hold out long enough for her to come. With a wet pop, he pulled his hand from her mouth and reached in between them, brushing the nub at the top of her sex with his slicked finger. She jolted under him.

“More,” she whispered.

He gave her as much as he could. He always had.

When she came apart beneath him, it was purling, languid, a roll like thunder. He rode out the crest with her and then let himself release, and it felt like every promise he’d ever made to her and a few he hadn’t.

He collapsed next to her, careful to avoid putting weight on their growing child.

“How is it that we just keep getting better at this?” he asked, his face half buried in the covers, his voice muffled.

She smiled at him, a little sweat beading on the top of her lip. The cockcrow light had panned up their bed, and a slant of it shone on her hair like aurora. “Years of practice, I suspect,” she said, her brow arching at him, reflecting a sliver of light. Then her face got a small surprised look, and she reached for him. “Give me your hand,” she said.

She took his hand and pressed it to her belly, and he felt it roll softly under him, like a golf ball under the skin. He felt tears spring to his eyes.

Peace and wonder fell over him in equal measure and they lay there together, not moving as morning turned to afternoon, settling into the horse latitudes of their life.

#xfsmut2020 #x-files #fanfic #smut #soft #msr #my fic #prompt

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throughthewwods · 4 years ago

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Time goes by so fast.. I can’t believe it’s Tuesday already.

100 Days of Productivity . Day 80, 81-ish

Well, my big win is I got an A+ on my journal review essay, which locks in my A in the class AND 🥁 gets one of my Incompletes finally ✨⭐️COMPLETED!!⭐️✨

It’s kind of a big deal. For years I’ve been robbing Peter to pay Paul because my university didn’t want to provide me my disability accommodations, which made it pretty much impossible to keep up with my work no matter how hard I pushed myself, and then I had a bunch of urgent health stuff on top of that...

it’s being near drowning for years then finally coming up for a real breath of air.

📚 finished my cognitive behavioral therapy on blind participants’ review paper

📚 finished my ‘different approaches within psychology’ discussion

📚 finished my final reflections discussion

📚 had a great talk with that professor about potential grad school/career options

💜 helped Kiddo out with more science

💙💜❤️ had an adventure

I want to write about Saturday before the details of it simplify to a text file..

Our first adventure since being vaccinated.. ⛅️

The morning was going reasonably well until Kiddo began to doddle on her makeup work. at first I thought I would have to cancel Saturday out of principle, but she hustled.

ParentingWin: Child demonstrates motivation and consideration

recalling last Monday when I had her call her fairy godmother personally to apologize for not doing her lesson and us having to cancel ice cream after B. waited to go so we could join her: Kiddo finished her last notes she told me it wasn’t just because she wanted to do something today, but that she was aware everyone was waiting on her and she didn’t want to spoil the fun for everyone by us having to cancel again if she didn’t finish her work.

I’m glad RB wants to make a day of it rather than stay in town. It was nice to explore the fort grounds with less fear every time some thoughtless person bumbled into our bubble. Our children giggle madly into the echo of their own glee as they zigzag between the shadowy corridors and afternoon fields. all that beautiful sunlight was a bit deceptive though. Every time we underestimate how much cooler it is along the water. We are lovebirds cuddled up for warmth in awe of our impervious lil sprites who are so enthralled by the concrete labyrinth they don’t notice a bit it’s not summer. I joke, “Can you imagine traveling back in time to 1917 to whimsically tell the soldiers there’s is no battle coming, but someday children would play tag here?”

Along the beach, as if a gift from the fairies, there sits what would be their clubhouse for the rest of the afternoon. RB and I relax on a log chitchatting, staring off into the water. He’s cute, concerned this obstacle course would be difficult for me to navigate. Soon will have been together for a year and a half, yet our adventures are just beginning really. As life happens he’ll have more opportunities to learn about my eyes: what I can and can’t see or prefer to avoid, like how I enjoy hiking, but not cliffs. 😆

I remain ever grateful that our children enjoy each other’s company. From the distance we hear laughter and bits of make-believe muffled by the crash of white crush as they race across the pebbles lugging driftwood and large stones to their new haven.

Back at my apartment, GSD has been a delightfully good dog. He’s never been alone in the house that long, so I’m grateful he didn’t destroy anything in a German Shepherd tantrum. RB treats everyone to burritos slathered in cheddar and pico de gallo wonderfulness. The kids play a bit more and we call it a night as our food comas set in.

I don’t remember much about Sunday, except that Kiddo finally made enough of her dent in her overdue work that it will no longer be one step forward, two steps back. that’s a relief to both of us. RB came over later and we had a relaxing evening. I ran into some formatting issues with my paper then I eventually gave up on fixing that night. Meanwhile, RB sat patiently in the living room waiting for me to be available, which was the case again Monday morning when I had to wake up bright and early instead of sleep in to make my deadline. It was a little bit of a bummer that I didn’t get to sleep in with RB. We often have banter about such a rare weekday opportunity, but I knew needed to get my school stuff done. I didn’t wanna have to make excuses to my professor. I’m grateful RB is so supportive and thoughtful. I’ve had so many exes get bitchy when my juggling things didn’t go smoothly as I had hoped and I needed to prioritize school. he understands and lets me do my thing without making me feel lousy about it. ❤️

I notice Kiddo is becoming more cuddly and sily with him, which is pretty adorable.

When he returned Monday evening it had been a sad afternoon for him sorting through all the toys and clothes his son has outgrown. It was one of those days where you don’t really want to be lonely with the silence and your thoughts, but you also don’t have it in you to people. In the past RB has opted to stay home on nights like that. Monday he asked if he could come over. He shared his feelings as we talked a bit, but he mostly spent the evening in my room resting. I left GSD in there to keep him company and occasionally would poke my head in for a cuddle or to see how he was doing. Kiddo, I think picking up on his melancholy, came in for a bit with her deformed, marshmallow pegasus to make him chuckle. It worked. We watched shows quietly, nibbling on cashews. I think it helped in the moment, but also realized it’s important for us to experience each other in this way. We are both introverts. There are definitely times we will want to be left alone to be, but there’s also comfort in knowing someone moving iaround in the background who is there for you if you need them.

#journal #writing #my writing #motherhood #parenting #100 days of productivity #studystudystudy #relationship #positivemindset #love #happylife #happiness #depression #anxiety #RBlovestory

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crawgluvr4 · 5 years ago

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ao3

moira o’ deorain does not believe in God.

during the preparation for her confirmation they browse a book of saints, as a class. her teacher lists the common ones for girls and for boys, talks about their meaning and significance. she is told, again, about accepting the holy spirit, how important this step is in life as a follower of Christ. the final initiation into the fold.

“choosing a name is no simple matter,” her teacher says. “reach out to the saint you feel will guide you best, as when you take their name you take their protection into yourself, too. you may pray to them or to God for guidance as you begin your life as a mature member of the church.”

her best friend picks anastasia, laughs about how it reminds her of the singer. moira feels some jealousy at the ease which she plucks it from the book, the way it settles in among her other names.

nothing has fit for her yet. she prays, and gets no response.

a day before the deadline for choosing she picks st. jude. her friends find it funny, her mother finds it weird, and her teacher doesn’t have the time to talk her out of it. her aunt’s hand on her shoulder during the mass is tighter than it need be.

she doesn’t remember what her baptism was like, remembers the novelty of her first confession and communion outweighed any holiness a child could feel. here she is old enough to understand, old enough to take to heart the words drilled into her beforehand. she recites her lines perfectly; the bishop stumbles over her name. she feels no holy spirit, no growth nor acceptance, and when she cries and prays to the patron saint of lost causes, he leaves her in the dark.

she lost her faith at twelve years old, she will say. gained faith in science and never looked back. she slowly forgets the apostle’s creed, and the lord’s prayer.

moira does quizzes online to find what circle of hell she will be sent to, and keeps getting heresy. she turns off the power to the little red light with a cross in it her father reveres so much. she reads dawkins and hitchens and mocks her friends when they pray along at school. she smugly keeps her mouth shut when the teachers recite the morning prayers, and cuts out the cross stitched into her uniforms.

she is called into the headmistress’ office when her mother agrees to let her drop religion as a subject, and is asked: “how can someone so young lose their faith?”

when religion is being taught, she sits apart from the other girls, although she is much too used to that. the teacher mentions humanism, and one of the other girls asks, “is that what moira is?” and they titter. she frowns and corrects them - she is an atheist. the girls don’t even hear her.

she passes a graveyard, and her hands burn.

she gets a degree in genetics at trinity college and thinks idly on the irony, if only to herself. her aunt gifts her a rosary for her 21st birthday, and she drops it in a box and leaves it in her childhood wardrobe when she leaves home. she studies medicine and puts her faith in science and observable truth, qualifies as a geneticist and writes increasingly risky papers on gene editing. her experiments become more wild; her peers become more enraged.

when she is cast out of her profession, gabriel reyes welcomes her into his.

“we can help each other,” he says. “not like you have much choice if you want to keep your research.”

she is sceptical. “apparently my research is unethical. i have received condemnation from your organization directly. why would you help me?”

reyes smiles. he wears a chain around his neck with a small silver cross and he gives up drinking for lent. “I don’t work for overwatch.”

moira doesn’t get on well with angela in the lab, but finds her fascinating outside of it. there is a divide between them she revels in, likes it when angela seems annoyed when moira flirts with her. likes it even more when it works and they find themselves in a closet somewhere on the swiss base, before a mission, hurriedly redressing to make it back to their stations in time.

angela never mentions faith, but she does mention God a lot in those closets.

when moira rests over her experiments, the way she folds her hands is like a prayer. when someone in angela’s care dies, and she hears, moira finds herself making the sign of the cross more often than she cares to admit.

there is some level of blasphemy to what she does. she tests on anyone willing, animals, herself. always so close to the secret of creation, but she settles for changing what she can. she changes bodies as she sees fit, allows them to become what they want instead of what God designed. when reyes asks her to make him a better soldier, she obliges and works tirelessly to give him a body he can mould for himself.

it fails, of course, as she is not divine. her creations are as flawed as she is, and God judges her unworthy. as overwatch breaks down, so does reyes.

she takes communion at his funeral, and flees switzerland for talon.

reaper keeps her at arms length, only ever approaching her when ordered to by doomfist. she, in turn, can only stabilize him, knowing there is no cure for her arrogance. she is nearly fifty and she takes an online quiz and gets sent to the seventh circle for violence against God.

when her mother dies, she gets the rosary in the mail. she keeps it in the bottom drawer of her desk in oasis, and it burns a hole there, asking her why she no longer prays to God for help. she uses jude as an alias when she needs to. there is a heaviness to it.

sometimes she will go home, back to dublin, and go to the church where her family used to pray, where she stood for communion and confirmation and where she lost her faith. the people will chat to her kindly, ask after her family and friends without truly knowing who she has become.

moira does not believe in God. but she carries with her the time that she did.

#this is super self insert catholic guilt nonsense projected onto the only good irish character in media. thanks #moira o'deorain #overwatch #technically a tiny bit of moicy :)#also not really edited or anything just fucking. God take it

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evien-stark · 5 years ago

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 111

Dinner that night was a half pepperoni half sausage pizza and a whole double cheese pizza. Harley ate more than you thought someone his size should, but then again, this whole experience was starting to really show you you may not have known anything about kids. Sure. You’d been one. Once. A long time ago. But… especially a young preteen boy… you were a little out of your depths. At least he and Tony seemed to get along well enough. It was nice.

The two of you set him up on the couch with every movie known to man available at his fingertips (although he did complain lightly about the absence of any gaming consoles), and you tried to impress upon him that he’d be getting up early tomorrow. Just as you shut your bedroom door you heard him raiding your kitchen cabinets and putting some popcorn in the microwave.

Wine buzz had fled some time ago, leaving you free and clear after changing into some pajamas to sit cross legged on the bed and answer some work emails. Tony must have been of the same mind, because he had one of his larger tablets open and was working away. First thing, you canceled your vacation plans. It would have been nice to move them to a later date, but you had no idea how long this was going to go on for. And rescheduling without an idea was only asking for trouble.

The next was to send a quick email to Happy for tomorrow, just a few small pickups. Some more substantial food- kid’s cereal?- a Stark console and all the latest games. That would do for now. You hoped Harley had packed some clothes in that backpack he’d brought with him on his little hike to New York City but you’d forgotten to ask. If not… you’d just have to take him shopping.

Pepper came next, letting her know you were no longer taking time off, asking her to un-clear your schedule, and then asking her to expedite papers for the Stark Internship program. Even if it wasn’t up and running, you could always backdate and have her rubber stamp enough documents to make things seem legit. Harley would need an ID and a badge for as long as he was staying in the Tower. That would at least legitimize this for anyone who dug into it. And… you imagined if Harley was spotted with either you or Tony (as he definitely would be), questions would come in heavy. You had to be prepared.

You unfortunately didn’t have the proper staff for this right now… even in your sudden wealth of employees. The closest you could think of… prompted a final email to Bruce, very quickly explaining the situation. And then asking him if he would be comfortable putting together a quick and not necessarily flush syllabus- or, if not that serious, just some lab exercises that he could walk Harley through, failing anything else.

Though you were seconds from closing your laptop and pretending you could go to bed, almost as expected, three emails pinged back in succession. Even though it was outside of work hours. This was why you loved these people. From Happy: You got it, boss. This have to do with the kid in the lobby? From Pepper: Sure thing. I imagine we’ll discuss the why in the morning. And from Bruce: Comfortable definitely isn’t the word but I’ll do my best…

There were about a hundred other things you could attend to but with the immediate worries put to rest for the night, you shut the lid on your laptop and set it aside on the night table. With your arms now free, you snuggled up to Tony, winding your arms around his middle and resting your head against him. He swiped a quick hand across his tablet to project what he was working on, freeing up his space a little to welcome you in further.

Once his arm came around you, you put a hand over his chest, eyes glazing as you looked at what he was working on. Even you were surprised by how tired your voice sounded, when you finally spoke. “I have things set up for tomorrow. We’ll get Harley to Pepper for processing and… Bruce is gonna try and work on some science lab stuff for him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” His voice came out in a low rumble, a little more focused on the schematics that were hanging in the air.

You soothed your hand up and down his chest, fingers circling the round of his tank top, touching over his skin. “In the lobby, Harley said he saved your life.”

There was an abrupt stop to his working. “Yeah.”

“...in like a… you needed help to finish what you were doing general way? Or in a more serious way?”

You found yourself stilling as he swiped away the holograms, settling a little bit more against the headboard. His hand then came down over yours, holding you still. “Probably both. That kid’ll take all the credit you can give him.” Laying your head against the edge of his shoulder, you cast a look up his way. Patient. Glancing at you briefly from his peripherals, his lips pressed together before a sigh escaped.

His hand held yours a little tighter, as his gaze went forward and foggy. Reliving as much as he was remembering.

“One of those soldiers took down a water tower. A kid- funny enough, apparently… kid that was bullying Harley- EJ was his name… got caught up and drowned. Heart wasn’t beating right, he wasn’t breathing. So I took the Arc out of my chest to give him a jolt. Soon as he coughed up water, I started seizing. Harley yanked the Arc out of my hands and shoved it back in my chest.”

A little shiver crept over your skin. Slowly, without really thinking, the tips of your fingers started to trace the white scar across his chest. Tony had literally, without thinking, put his life in serious jeopardy for a kid that, by all accounts, sounded like he didn’t even know. Maybe he felt responsible- ...scratch that. He definitely felt responsible, but…

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

You felt his shoulders shrug beneath you. “Part of the job, isn’t it? Almost dying? Besides, we had a million other things going on. Never seemed like a good time to bring it up. Hey, honey, so while I was in Tennessee- you remember, that time you got kidnapped and almost died? Funny story...” He breathed out a long sigh, taking hold of your hand, lifting it to press a lingering kiss to your skin.

What could you really say to this? There was a beat of heartache that cycled through both of you. It made sense- he’d been looking into getting the Arc removed a little before that. But after that… no wonder as soon as you were on your feet he had been ready to jump into surgery.

He pressed your palm to his cheek, just holding you there. “You know…” Deciding you didn’t want to drown in the feeling, you waited until he hummed a noise of question to continue. “You promised me. At least twice. That you wouldn’t go dying on me.”

There was a twitch of a grin on his lips. “So far so good. Haven’t broken it.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

----

As usual with most evenings the two of you went to bed together, he got up before you- and before the sun rose, too. Up to do Tony things, you supposed. Science, work. Either or both. He left with a quiet kiss at your temple, a tug of the covers a little more over your shoulders, and a quiet close of the door. Sleep was a luxury now, it kind of always had been, but with the lifestyle you were running, more now than ever. It was why even though he was more apt of the two of you to get up first, you never stayed asleep for that much longer.

It was an hour later at sunrise that you got up and took a shower. There were kitchen sounds happening, you realized, once you got out- and it reminded you that the two of you had a guest. So while you might have otherwise left your bedroom in a towel or a robe (or maybe sometimes nothing at all, it was your penthouse, who could judge), now you had to actually get ready before leaving the master bedroom. At least it served to set your mind up for the day.

Ready to face the morning, albeit with damp hair, you exited the bedroom. Harley was dead asleep on the couch- passed out after what seemed to be a long evening of binge watching TV, eating multiple bags of popcorn, and filling up on juice. You considered yourself as lucky as you did smart that you hadn’t sent him downstairs to the Avengers’ living space. Their kitchen was a little more terrible for a child to wreak havoc in.

A blanket was pulled up over him, Dvahli belly up in the crook of his arm, snoozing away. It put your mind at ease, a little. If he made friends with the cat… maybe he wasn’t so bad.

Tony was humming away in the kitchen when you got there, all dressed in black casual, sleeves rolled up, white dish towel draped over his shoulder. You sneaked up behind him, winding your arms around his middle and snuggling your face into his back. He smelled that nice spice and earthy way he always did. “Morning…”

You felt him put a hand over your arms. “Good morning. What’s on your to-do list today?” Asked quietly, almost drowned up by the sound of something sizzling away in the frying pan in front of him.

“A million things.”

“The usual.” Able to hear the grin in his voice.

“Pepper will process Harley and I have to sign and… backdate- and then bury the backdating of the Internship program, just in case anyone looks into it.” Which was an eventuality. And even if it wasn’t, you had to treat it like one. Getting caught unaware was not something you liked. “Then I have a few meetings here and… a media meeting at NBC.”

The sound of the stove dying intermingled with his next hum of thought, and you shifted with him as he moved to plate something- refusing to let go of him. Even if it was a little ridiculous, practically hanging on like a baby koala. “I’m all in for brand integration on cheesy sitcoms.”

“Don’t joke, I think I saw Days of Our Lives on the proposal list.” Snorting lighting against his shirt with another little nuzzle there before you let go finally. Shifting aside him, you moved to sit atop the counter, stealing a very hot piece of freshly cooked bacon with a satisfied crunch.

Easing forward, he settled his hands on your hips. “Who said anything about joking? I want Stark Tech to be the reason someone comes out of their sixth coma- just in time for her to see her mother stealing her husband-” Having trouble getting the thought out as giggles leaked from you as he fantasized. “I want the logo in the shot when they say porque, Maria-!” Giving it a little gusto with a shaking fist as he delivered the line.

Something that had you dying all the more, head shifting forward to stifle your laughter against his shoulder. “I think you’re mixing up your soaps-”

“They’re all the same.” Sharing in the laughter with you. Maybe laughing just because you were laughing. The warmth and adoration you felt rolling off him certainly seemed to suggest so.

He nudged your head up with a little touch of his forehead against yours, and you found his sunny gaze waiting there for you when you opened your eyes. “I love you-” Cutting himself off just as you reached up to cup the sides of his face, an action he craned back against suddenly, holding up a pointer finger between the two of you. “-however- if you slather bacon grease on my face, we might have some serious issues-”

“Stop making your bacon so greasy, then.” Grinning but holding your hands up in the air to placate him, leaning in to steal a quick little kiss. “I love you, too.”

When you tilted back, he chased you, laying a much stronger kiss to your lips. One you fell victim to instantly. Settling your arms over his shoulders- still palm up just in case- lifting an encouraging leg to slide up at his side to invite him in as close as you could have him. A slow brush of tongues sparked a quiet heat-

And it died immediately once the sound of exaggerated groaning bubbled up from behind the both of you. The break happened pretty quickly after that, but Tony didn’t really move away, instead half angling back to look- you peering over his shoulder, to see Harley perched on the back of the living room couch with his tongue out. Gagging. When he stopped his gurgling, “That’s disgusting. I’m right here, you know.”

Perhaps he had a point. A small one. It wasn’t like you were about to have sex with Tony in the kitchen, thirty feet away from a sleeping child, but, all the same… Tony propped the back of his hand against his hip. “Right there- imagine- in my house-”

“I thought last night you said it was hers.” Smart aleck’ing him right back.

“-where you fell asleep at three in the morning in a pile of crumbs, juice puddles, and- hopefully some modicum of shame.”

Easing off the counter you plastered a smile on your face. “Sounds like a wild night. Hopefully you didn’t overdo it. You have a lot to do today.” A jaunty little jingle of Dvahli’s collar preceded her sweet miaow as she padded her way into the kitchen. You bent down to pick her up and then put her on the counter where she could easily observe you preparing a wet can for her.

“Me?” Harley sounded perturbed. “What do I have to do?”

Tony turned back to the stove. “You didn’t think you could just come here and laze on our couch, did you?”

“My assistant Pepper is going to process you for our internship program. And then Dr. Banner is going to have some stuff for you to do down in the labs.” After depositing the empty can into the recycling, you served Dvahli her breakfast.

Harley finally left the comfort zone of the couch to come sit at the kitchen island. “Banner- like- Bruce Banner- like the Hulk right? That’s so cool.”

Tony cracked a few eggs onto the newly fired up skillet. “You might wanna lower your expectations. Just a little.”

You couldn’t help the little smack to his side as you crossed over to the fridge to retrieve the orange juice. “No Hulk. Just Dr. Banner.” Trying to impart that he was expected to be respectful. If he even knew the meaning of the word.

Just as you set a fresh glass of OJ in front of him, Harley grinned up at you. “Okay but like- what if I make him mad- like really really mad-” Seeming excited at the prospect of getting to see the Hulk up close and personal.

You smiled back at him. “I assure you, Dr. Banner is used to far more than anything you can do.” You wouldn’t have asked him if you thought he couldn’t handle it.

Immediately trying to rectify your mistake, Tony turned half on his heel with his pointer finger raised, “Not that you should try. I’ll be around, too. I see you firing that little peanut gun of yours in my lab, I’ll ship you back to Tennessee in a box.” Warning him.

“Peanut gun?” You couldn’t help but ask. ...trying to hide your horror.

Harley ducked his head. “It’s a new prototype-”

Tony turned back to the stove. “Sure thing. You came looking for more pointers. I get it.”

“I did not.” Though you sensed this was not the whole truth of it. Harley was building tech? It wasn’t a wonder why the two of them seemed to get along. ...if this could be described as getting along.

But this brought up a very serious question as you looked at him. “You packed that- and- what else?”

Tony was the one to answer with half a laugh. “Light traveler. Scraps and parts.”

You couldn’t help your frown. “No clothes?” When Harley avoided your gaze and just shrugged you held back your sigh. “Happy will take you shopping later.”

Finished fixing a full plate, Tony came over to deposit some scrambled eggs and bacon in front of Harley, though he held the plate back just as Harley reached for it. “That’s usually when you say thank you, kid. When someone does something nice for you. Just a tip.”

But. Really… more than that. Letting Harley know he was to respect you while he was here, in less words. You waited and while his gratitude was a low murmur of uncomfortable, “Thanks…” It would do.

You rewarded the behavior with a warm response. “You’re welcome.” This was going to take some getting used to. Then again… you hoped you actually wouldn’t have to get used to this.

----

It was about two in the afternoon. You were in between four different phone calls, seven different emails, and Pepper still debriefing you about the things that were rescheduled due to your sudden going-on-vacation and then just as sudden canceling. There was an influx of people feeling like they were smarter than everyone else doing the same thing- thinking your schedule was clear so it would be the perfect time to get in. Or back in, in the case of people you’d canceled on.

There were three different voices speaking to you as Tony came into your office quietly, a hand on Harley’s shoulder. Guilt was coming off the both of them, which was not a great sign, but you had to put a finger up to them to signal that you’d be with them shortly. One conference call ended on speaker, and two more personal calls on two separate phones down, you let Pepper finish getting your signature on a newly printed document and then turned your attention to them. “What happened?”

“Okay, first-” Tony put his hand up. “Don’t worry. But. Also. There was a… slight chemical fire in the lab-”

“It was huge!” Harley threw his arms up. But the dead-eyed stare you served the both of them had him shrinking back. “...and an accident.”

Though you sensed neither of them would be so blase if it were the case otherwise, you had to ask, “Is anyone hurt?”

Tony, thank god, shook his head. “Everyone’s fine- we just need to clear the area for a little ventilation. ...and clean up. Can you watch him for a few hours?”

At this Harley crossed his arms pretty hard. “I don’t need watching.”

Much as you tried to hold the sigh back, it escaped you anyway. “I’m fifteen minutes out from heading to the NBC meeting.”

He grinned, giving Harley a pat. “Great. Kid can learn about managing a business. I figure the internship should be fully encompassing.”

At this you really did make a face. “You figured you just exploded the lab so now you need me.”

“I always need you.”

God damn him. It was the warm way he said this, the gentle imploring look in his eyes… he was playing you for a fool. But. He was also right. So you made a bad attempt at hiding your smile in the middle of a pointed eye roll. “Yes. You do.”

“I know. That’s what I just said.” Grinning lightly then. “Anyway- here- kid. Sit down. Learn something.” Ushering him to the couch.

Harley collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. “What’s there to learn? How to answer a phone? How to sign my name on papers?”

Tony’s grin broadened. “Oh you do have a lot to learn. And here I thought you said you knew everything already. Must explain why my lab blew up, too.” He headed out the door, but with his hand on the handle leaned back in. “Thank you, honey.”

And, despite him making a mess and dumping the aftermath on you, you raised your hands in that small heart shape over your chest. You weren’t mad at him for taking precaution. It was exactly the sort of thing he should be doing. It was his dazed smile that really put you in danger. Thankfully he closed the door behind himself, apparently giving Harley permission to fall onto his back on the couch- and retrieve that beat up Stark handheld console from his pocket somewhere so that he could start playing it and ignoring you.

That was fine. You had a lot to cram into these last- now- thirteen minutes before you rushed downstairs and got into a car. It was at the final five that Pepper got to the bottom of her never-ending list. “-and about the Valentine’s Charity Gala on Friday-”

You stood, slipping your jacket around your shoulders. “Since we already canceled, I don’t see any reason to go now. You know I can’t stand Smithfield.” As with any other ass-kisser that organized events like this. One of your least favorite people on the fucking planet.

“That’s fine- just, they put out a newsletter this morning. Not scathing but… heartbroken and disappointed over the sudden absence. Even when we put in three times the plate fee. Which, of course, they failed to mention.”

That was incredibly annoying and you let your displeasure show with a grunt. “Fine, then. Schedule a dress and tux fitting for Wednesday afternoon. We’ll drop in quietly on the evening.”

“Understood. Good luck at the meeting.”

Stopping at the couch you gave the corner a little nudge and made a motion with your hand. “Come on, Harley, we have to go.”

While he forced a tired sigh, he didn’t make any more fuss about not following. Which was great, because you didn’t have time to argue with him. Happy greeted you in the lobby and then opened the car door for you. You let Harley get in first and then got in after, going over a few pointer notes on your phone as Harley click-clacked away on the buttons of his game.

You weren’t expecting him to speak up, but when he did you directed a glance his way. “Hey… how come you’re going to that thing. If you hate it so much.”

It wasn’t all too shocking that he’d been listening in- that’s what he was supposed to be doing… technically, if any of what Tony had said made sense or mattered. But it still surprised you a little. “Because we have to.”

“She said you were off the hook, right?” He didn’t understand and was trying to make sense of it. “I thought you guys never had to do anything you didn’t want to.” Seemingly unimpressed that at least one of the adults he secretly looked up to could be forced into a lame dinner party.

How best to explain…? “If you’re smart, you’ll never let someone else control your narrative.”

“What’s that mean?” Now his full attention was on you.

“It means… okay. So. This dinner is a charity banquet. Tony and I said we’d go, but then we changed our minds. Because of that, we paid three times the entry fee to make up for not going. But the people running the event told everyone we backed out. That makes us look bad, no matter how much we paid. So now on the evening of, Tony and I are going to put in some face time without them knowing until we say hello. By then, they’ll have made the mistake of badmouthing us even though we paid over price to not go- and at the same time, will have gone anyway.” You took a breath after all this, arching a brow at him. “Does that make sense?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Sort of. I guess.”

That was a no. Plainer terms… “We’re going to make the people running the event look like assholes for talking shit about us.” His head whipped your way, that giddy sense of an uptight adult just cursed! easy to spot, but it was the shock that really got a grin out of you. “That easier to digest?”

He returned the expression. “Yeah. I get it now.”

----

The meeting ran long, as all meetings these days tended to do. When someone had you in a room they were always very keen to keep you there as long as they could, as if that would improve their chances of getting what they wanted. Usually it was the opposite. When you realized it was running a little too long, you side-barred everyone so that you could have Happy take Harley down to the cafeteria to get some food… and as a little treat for his patience (having some very decent manners in a meeting where even you were starting to get a little rough around the edges) told him he could go down to the gift shop and get whatever he wanted.

When finally, two whole hours later, enough things had been agreed upon and signed, you went to collect both of them and head home for the day. The sun was just finished setting, the city awash in its nighttime lights-

Too little too late you realized the glow of which were coming from some reporters parked next to your car. While Happy tried to wave them off, and you struggled valiantly to keep Harley behind you- one of them barked something at you that immediately got your attention. It was because of this you put a hand on Happy’s arm to let him know you were about to address one of them before getting in the car.

You also held your arm back to keep Harley from view. When you held your head up to the reporter angling a microphone up, his cameraman pushing forward to get a good shot, the man felt a wash of relief and a bit of pride that he’d been picked. “What do you have to say about Senator Stern’s arrest?”

Ah. Such a beautiful question. While he’d been hauled off government property a few hours after everything had been leaked, he’d been hiding behind lawyers and money. ...nothing Stark Industries couldn’t strip him of. Quietly, of course. You stood tall. “I have to say that I find it extremely interesting that almost every single person that went up against Tony four years ago in that Senate hearing were traitors to the country. I also find it very relieving that Hydra didn’t get their hands on the Iron Man suit at that time. God knows we would have hundreds raining down on America by now if they had.”

Someone in the back of the crowd- civilians and tourists now having gathered- added a voice to the murmurs- “The Avengers would have protected us!”

You made a show of a bright smile. “Of course we would have. I’m just commenting on the fact that Stern, like the rest of them, had nefarious plans when he asked to take control of Tony’s suits. A thread that I feel needs to be examined.”

The reporter pulled his mic back to ask, “Do you think the court battle will drag on for years?”

“Oh, absolutely not. We’re lucky to have such a level-headed leader like President Ellis. I know he’s doing all he can- and it’s been extremely tough with the sudden power vacuums. But I know he’s going to expedite the process as much as possible so that the American people can see the justice that’s owed to them.” You gave a little wave off. “Thank you- no more questions- I have to be getting home-”

Allowing Happy to push the perimeter back so you and Harley could get in the car. Your phone immediately started buzzing, and as you retrieved it from your pocket, the name and face of the very same President Ellis warned you from the front screen.

Harley, who was making no attempts to not get caught spying, sat beside you in a little bit of excited disbelief. “The President has your phone number?”

“Every single one, unfortunately.”

“What’s he calling you for?”

“Well I just put him in a corner by insinuating he was going to do something he had no plans to do.”

Harley seemed to be thinking about this, but ended up sending a lopsided smile your way. “I thought you said smart people don’t let their uh… let their narratives be controlled?”

You grinned back. “I did say that.” This tickled Harley- that you’d imply the President was stupid. But it was a good lesson for him, if he was in a learning mood. So you followed the thought up, “Smart people never let other people control their narratives. But smart people also control other people’s narratives where it’s advantageous to them.”

His nose scrunched then, and you could feel the gears grinding. “I think I get it.”

“I want him to put Stern in jail. As soon as possible. Now he has no choice but to do what I want, because I got ahead of him.”

At this he nodded a few times over until another question came. “Yeah I get it. But why that guy?”

For this you let a little bit of seriousness seep in. “Stern has threatened Tony on more than one occasion. I make a point of punishing people like that. So that other people are scared to try it later.”

No one threatens my family and gets away with it. A much more powerful lesson, you thought. Harley considered it, nodding again while looking down at his hands. You felt a sudden storm cloud brew inside of him. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”

It was such a strong and dark feeling that seemed to consume him so quickly. There was no telling what was going on in his head- what he was relating this all to. Although it was an easy guess that it was the reason he’d run away. You settled a hand on his shoulder, imparting some calm to ease the clouds. “I know it’s not the healthiest, but what do you say to stopping at Burger King for dinner.” Nothing fast food couldn’t fix.

There was a little relief when he smiled. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“It’s Tony’s favorite. Right, Happy?” Looking up into the rearview.

Happy waved a hand. “The boss loves Whoppers. Me, personally, I’m kind of a Big Mac kinda guy…”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Eleven

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