#(whether fic or in general discussion) so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fatuismooches · 5 months ago

Text

puer et monstrum.

synopsis: You attempt to help the adult raven reconcile with his younger fledgling self. In other words, four times Dottore ignored his child segment, the first time he didn’t, and the last time he did.

includes: dottore + platonic! zandy w/ gn! reader

notes: You grow to greatly love Zandy, Dottore's child segment, but you can't help but notice how your husband pays no attention to him. Therefore, you will try your best to change this. Fragile reader, lots of fluff, angst, very cute, you know the drill. Part of this fic is also greatly inspired by this ask (thank you to this anon!)

I. creation

At this point, Il Dottore had a good amount of experience creating segments.

Sure, the number of times he had failed was far greater than he liked, and he could count the number of successful segments with his fingers, but he had the general gist of the process and all. So, he decided it was time for him to create another segment of himself. This brought about the obvious question of what phase of his life he should bring back into this world. Dottore pondered this question for a while. He already made them all based on important parts of his life - when he was in the Akademiya, when he first became a Harbinger, and now one based on his current self not too long ago, just to name a few. He desired something new, something that could be vastly different.

In the end, he decided to create a child segment.

His other segments were not very happy with the decision. A child would cry. A child would whine. A child could not do the tasks they could. A child would do… child things. It was a nuisance. But Dottore dismissed their complaints.

What good would a child’s perspective bring him? He didn’t know, but that was exactly the point. He didn’t know, which was why he sought the answer. And the only way to find this out was to create the child just as he’d done with his other younger selves.

After much time, money, and energy were exhausted, it was done. The child opened his eyes for the first time and saw a tall figure amidst the blinding lights. Once the masked man noticed his awakening, he looked at him, as if waiting for him to fully gain consciousness, and then spoke before the child could say anything.

“I am Dottore. You are a segment of mine that I created. You shall be called Ten.” After that brief statement, the man seemed to have finished all that he was going to say. That was when the child noticed the crowd of similar-looking blue-haired men as well, discussing things that he could not wrap his head around yet.

The child, now called “10”, had so many questions. Where was he? What does he do now? Why was he called a number? He doesn’t remember being called that before. Was he not Zandik anymore? The child wasn’t sure whether or not being ‘Zandik’ anymore was a good or bad thing. Maybe if he wasn’t ‘Zandik’ anymore, people wouldn’t scorn him so much.

Who are all these people, and why do they seem a bit similar to him? Being but a little kid, naturally, he was lost and confused, and he could not help but grasp the leg of the man called Dottore timidly. Immediately, the Harbinger stiffened at the contact, eyes swiftly moving to meet 10’s. The only person who ever touched him unprompted was you, but he had not felt your touch in centuries, so the sudden touch of the child surprised him.

Though 10 could not see the taller man’s eyes, he didn’t think they were very kind. The child didn’t think the other man’s eyes were like his parents, or like the people from the village, no, but there was a certain feeling expressed toward him that 10 couldn’t explain. Regardless, 10 quickly received the message, and his hand slipped away from his creator’s.

“Tend to him,” was the lone order Prime gave the other segments before he left, leaving the little one all by himself, despite being surrounded by others.

II. curiosity

Being segments of the Harbinger meant they were busy people. Being the Harbinger himself meant that his time was even more sparse. This meant that any attention dedicated to 10 was few and far between, and pretty much always not of their own free will. One would think a child would be quite disheartened by the lack of attention, and well, they would be right, but 10 had long grown accustomed to being by himself ages ago considering his childhood. Did he like it? No, not yet at least. By the behavior of the other segments, he eventually grew to prefer being by himself.

But 10 was still a child, curious about the world, which meant that he still did seek out the older segments’ company from time to time. Well, most of the time he was shooed away, but on rare occasions, 10 was able to be the recipient of some ranting by the younger segments or perhaps the observer of their intricate work (that was deemed acceptable to be viewed by children.) However, something 10 was able to learn was that there was one person whom the segments and Prime always seemed to offer their attention, willingly too.

[Name].

The kid seemed to be the only segment who didn’t really know you. 10 didn’t pay much attention to his older selves’ “patients”, but being an attentive and curious boy, he realized with due time that your name always seemed to be murmured by them. Not with the detached or annoyed tone the segments took on when regarding others, but it was different. Again, the young one had trouble putting his finger on it exactly, but if he had to put it into words, 10 would say they sounded a lot sweeter. It was an odd thing to say because if anyone else heard it, they certainly would not label the tone as sweet. It would probably sound simply normal to others. But that was truly what the child thought, maybe because he was connected to them in a way.

So of course, 10’s interest was very piqued. Oddly enough, for how nice they sounded, the child never saw a glimpse of you around the lab. 10 wondered what kind of person you were. How did you even know them? Would you talk about them in a sweet tone too? If you met him… would you speak about him that way as well? He wondered what it took for the older men to like you so much, maybe even… love? The child doesn’t know what love exactly looks like, but if love was anything like the stories he’s read, how the segments talk about you could be said to be a bit similar.

But if 10 were to compare the two some more, maybe they aren’t that alike after all, considering all the things that were different. If segments loved you, wouldn’t you constantly be by their side, as lovers in fairytales do? If you two were apart, wouldn’t his creator be anguished by the loss of your presence, just like in the books? Yet whenever he saw the original, his expression seemed to always be the same - calculating, tired, seemingly more absorbed in his research than worried for another. (For the child does not understand how well Prime wears more masks than one.)

So needless to say, 10 was confused. And with confusion comes curiosity, the need to seek out the answer, common for any child but especially for one as inquisitive as the blue-haired boy. In his room, 10 pondered for a while on what to do - he could try to sneak around for answers, but he imagined he’d get caught and scolded by the segments long before he found anything out. So, the child decided to simply ask about the matter. After all, the others always say asking questions is an important part of an experiment.

It’s still a gamble though, the child is well aware of the less than hospitable energy toward him by the others. They have a general… lack of patience for him. But still, persistence and the pursuit of knowledge are traits embodied in every version of Dottore. And so the child gathered up all his courage and set his little plan into action.

It was like any other day 10 had witnessed in the far too familiar lab. He had made sure to wake up in the very early morning - it was the best opportunity to catch a few segments together before they split up to do their separate tasks. Well, hopefully, they were there, some of them tended to stay locked up in their respective labs until they figured out the answer to what they were seeking. The child surprisingly had little sleepiness remaining in his system, the anticipation of the answer he would receive keeping him awake.

For once, it looked as though the segments were not bickering. It wasn’t quiet either though, they seemed to be discussing something work-related. But that was beside the point. Upon entering the room, the segments were a bit surprised to see 10, for it was obviously out of the ordinary for the kid to be awake, much less roaming around at this hour.

“What are you doing awake?” The Akademiya segment, 01, didn’t bother to hide his tone, unwilling to be vexed further with all the work he had left to do. But the child had come here with a determination that wouldn’t be swayed.

“I have a question,” 10 stated. The next segment who spoke didn’t spare a glance at him.

“And it could not wait until morning? You felt the need to interrupt us now?” 04’s response was blunt and straight to the point as usual - he was a segment that was perpetually annoyed. 10 couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever seen a smile on this segment. And yet 04 seemed kinder to him than when he interacted with others.

Meanwhile, 02 watched with an unreadable expression behind his spotted mask. It was hard to predict what response you would get from 02 - would he be annoyed and snappy or perhaps treat you with a dose of excitement and interest? This time, however, it was the latter, as a grin crept its way onto his face.

“No, I want to hear this question. Surely, it must be greatly important for you to go to such lengths, yes?” 02’s red eyes gleamed, intrigued by the child segment’s nod. 10 nervously swallowed before squaring his shoulders resolutely.

“Who is [Name]?”

And then all the miscellaneous noises in the lab came to an abrupt halt. 24, who usually remained uninterested in the conversations of his other segments, had suddenly tuned into the discussion at the mention of your name. The other present segments, who were absorbed in their work mere moments ago, now had their undivided attention on the child.

“No one,” 04 said flatly, but the damage was already done. It was obvious that was a lie, and the child’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he began bouncing around to each segment.

“Who are they? What are they like? You like them, don’t you?” At the last question, 01 scowled at the declaration, hoping no one would notice the slight color of red at the tips of his ears. 02’s previous demeanor had changed into a blank yet thoughtful one, while 04 looked exasperated at the whole situation.

“How do you know about [Name]?” 24 was the one who finally responded to the child, and 10 awkwardly halted his barrage of questions. If 10 was being honest, 24 was probably the scariest of all the segments. The one closest to Prime and the most selfish.

“Well, all of you have mentioned them at least once… and when you do say their name, it just sounds like you like them. A lot,” 10 stared at the ground as he shared his observation. “You don’t sound like that for anyone else.” The segments were silent once more. The question was, were they that obvious, or was the brat just really attentive? The answer was most likely the latter, but still. This wasn’t a good look for them.

“I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later,” 01 had recovered from his embarrassment, “Considering how much Two prattles on about them.” 02 frowned at the sudden accusation.

“Excuse me? That is rich coming from you,” the clone quickly snapped back, for the other was no exception to carrying on about you. 24 just grimaced at the start of another bickering session between his other selves.

“A-Anyway!” 10 interrupted the others before he could be ignored. “Can I know who they are? Can I see them?” The child pleaded earnestly as another pause swept through the room.

“You will not stop begging until we say yes, won’t you?” 04 sighed. “However, that decision is up to Prime.” 10’s shoulders drooped. He wasn’t really sure if Prime would listen to him, considering how rarely they ever spoke.

However, miraculously enough, a few days later, his wish was granted. He doesn’t know why Prime decided to do it, but 10 was just happy he’d finally know about the mysterious person! Funnily enough, the news had spread to all the segments, and all of them had decided to gather in the same space to tell their own opinion about you. 10 had never seen them… congregate like this. They seemed to enjoy the common topic - you - but the squabbling about certain matters (again, you) still took place. The child learned more things about you than he even understood.

But he knew the basics now - you were their lover, meaning you loved them and they loved you, which even though it was not explicitly said, the child knew it anyway. This was obviously something a bit difficult for 10 to wrap his head around, but he found the idea thrilling. He knew his older selves well enough to know that you must be a pretty amazing person to have them so interested.

Unfortunately, the child couldn’t prove this hypothesis of his, as he later found out the reason why you were nowhere to be seen. 10 remembers the first time he saw you, accompanied by another segment (18, this time.) Hooked up to a machine with countless wires, hands laying limp by your side, along with your chest that unnoticeably rose and fell. You were nothing like what 10 thought you’d look like. And yet he too thought you were beautiful. Sure, the child couldn’t see your eyes or smile or hear your voice, but as he held your hand and compared it to his much smaller one, he just had a feeling you were nothing like the grown-ups that he once knew long ago. But 10 was disappointed.

“Is [Name] going to be okay?” 10 worriedly looked at the segment, wondering about your current state. The others hadn’t disclosed many details about your illness.

“They will,” 18 affirmed. At least this segment was nicer to him than the others, with his softer tone and gentler mannerisms. He was still a Dottore segment, however. “One day they will wake up.” With that as his only answer, 10 went back to tracing the lines on the palm of your cold hand, hoping you would open your eyes again soon just like the other blue-haired men.

Since then, 10 found himself visiting your silent room, save for the beep-beeps from your machines, more and more often. There was just something about this unmoving, sleeping grown-up that drew him in. 10 had so many questions to ask you… but for now, he settled for reading his stories aloud to you. Maybe you could hear them too. Occasionally, some other segments dropped in to check on you, but they didn’t pay much mind to him other than reminding him not to touch anything, as his presence near you had become commonplace.

However, on one particular day, 10 found that your room was already occupied by someone else. 10 had heard a familiar yet muffled voice coming from inside, yet he could not make out the exact words from outside in the hallway. Carefully padding closer to the room, the child strained his ears to make out the words. It sounded like the person was talking to another, like a conversation, only that it seemed one-sided since 10 could only distinguish one voice. Finally, he got the courage to gently push the door open a bit more and peek to see who it was inside.

It wasn’t merely a segment there to check on you, no, this time it was Prime Dottore himself, sitting near your side in the same chair that the child always sat in. The child was surprised - he rarely ever saw Prime outside of his lab or office, and when he did, it was usually when Prime was forced to attend to certain Fatui duties. Of course, he never paid much attention to his child segment. Unfortunately, 10 had stared a bit too much, as the original quickly noticed his presence and immediately got up from the seat. 10 jumped a bit too, instinctively pulling back and hiding against the wall. But it was too late.

“Come in.” 10 had no option other than to comply, as he shyly stepped into your room, still clinging to the wall. The child nervously swallowed as he scrambled for an excuse as to why he was intruding.

“Um… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” 10 apologized meekly, hands behind his back as his eyes flicked from Dottore’s face to the floor. The older man’s expression was unreadable, and it was silent for a good few moments before he spoke.

“I see,” was all Dottore said before he started walking toward 10, or rather, the door. The child looked up at the figure that had now gone past him, words leaving his mouth before he could think.

“Were you talking to [Name]? Do you miss them too?” Now that 10 thought about it, he had heard all about what the other segments had to say about you, but he still didn’t know the original’s feelings. Still, the child was surprised at himself for being able to ask Prime that. At the question, Dottore stopped in his tracks, seemingly contemplating whether he should respond or dismiss him before he turned around and faced his child segment, who then stiffened at the direct look.

“I hear that you’re with them quite often.” 10’s eyes widened at the response and nodded, although it wasn’t really an answer to his questions. “[Name] enjoys your company.” This only served to confuse the child even more, as he then glanced at your body. (For only Dottore knows about the time he found you asleep with a smile after the little boy left your room.)

“They… do? How do you know?” But when 10 looked back, Dottore was already gone. Well, he knew not to expect much conversation from him anyway, but still, he was greatly curious at his words. Regardless, 10 then walked up to you and made himself comfy near your bedside.

“Why do you like him so much, [Name]?” 10 inquired, playing with your fingers as he rested his cheek on your body. But of course, he received no answer from the person he was closest with yet farthest away from in this lab.

Even at the end of all of this, 10 still wasn’t exactly sure of what to think of you, having not had a real conversation with you yet, but he thought you seemed really cool, even while hooked up to a machine.

III. close

Change was not something 10 was familiar with. He was stuck as a kid forever, he was stuck in the lab, unable to leave like the other segments, he was stuck with the same toys and stories and other various pastimes that had long grown boring. So, the excitement of the unpredictable was something sorely lacking in the child’s life. Not to mention, the lab was a pretty dark place, both figuratively and literally. Although the boy was used to it, he wished it would be a bit more lively.

And after countless years of wishing, his wish finally came true. You, the mysterious sleeping grown-up that he only heard stories about, [Name], had finally woken up from centuries-long slumber. 10 was, to put it in a child’s simple words, “super happy”, but anyone else could see that his feelings went beyond that. However, despite 10’s great desire to meet you, he had decided to wait a bit, just to observe you.

The child followed you around, looking at you from afar, always slipping away before you could notice his presence. Seeing you up and walking around was so different from the once unmoving body he was so accustomed to. He listened to your voice. He watched you relearn so many things. He saw how sweetly you interacted with the other segments, and how keen they were for your touch, how they would tend to you on your weaker days. The child had never seen anything like it. 10 would have never believed the amount of change one mere person could bring. Meanwhile, the segments remained indifferent to the boy.

The more 10 watched you, the more he finally wanted to bask in your attention too. But the boy was scared. He remembered all the other adults in his life, from the village, and how they all looked and treated him with contempt. Could you be like that too? He wanted to think the answer was no, from how kind you seemed, but all the adults were so nice to the others except for him.

But maybe, maybe this time, it could be different. Everyone else approved of you after all. 10 wanted to trust you.

For once, his trust was not betrayed. After 10 finally introduced himself to you, you had given him so much attention it made his head spin. Your gentle and loving yet not overbearing demeanor. The way you listened to him seriously and reciprocated the energy, taking part in his childish activities. He was enthralled, to say the least.

You, on the other hand, were initially mystified by the appearance of the child. Not just any child, Dottore’s child self. Just to let that sink in, you had to keep repeating it to yourself. 10 was Dottore’s child self. He was him as a kid. What you were looking at was the embodiment of Zandik as a little boy. You couldn’t really believe your eyes at first. But he was real. Very real, from his higher-pitched voice (that was a really sharp contrast to Omega, for example) to his childlike demeanor and innocence.

The whole deal with the segments already took a bit for you to get accustomed to, but this was sort of new territory for you. After all, even though you’d known Dottore for so long, his childhood was something that came up rather infrequently. You chose not to pry further when you learned of how poorly he was treated as a child and instead offered him comfort in other ways. It had always made your heart ache and you wished you could do something more about it, to soothe his pain even just a bit. But now you quite literally had him in front of you, in a way. Quickly, your mind began working and formulating something.

Maybe… maybe you could help him by helping 10.

Sure, it sounded a bit stupid and probably useless at first, but there was no harm in trying. If anything else, you would be making 10 smile. From what you could infer, his life within this lab was far too dour for your liking.

Regardless, all those hours flew by in the blink of an eye, so much so that it felt like a dream. Was it, 10 wondered. But then the next day he found you eagerly waiting for him so you could spend more time with him. And the next. And the following day. And next week. Next month. And by then, he and the other were no longer merely numbers, but rather, they had names bestowed upon them, to truly identify them as individuals.

And so, 10 had become Zandy. The difference between his past and present self was just as stark as the name change. It wasn’t just him, either. The other segments seemed different too with you around, in a good way. In all honesty, the young boy thought you were magical because he thought this kind of reality would only be possible in fairy tales. Needless to say, Zandy admired you greatly and sought you out quite frequently.

He was happy to have you help him with his various assignments - to which your eyes nearly popped out when you saw the length and difficulty of some of the questions. You did help him, despite your shaky hands, but most of the time you stole him away to do much more fun things, that were “more important” according to you. The segments kept their thoughts to themselves unless they wanted to hear you gently scold them. It was amazing, Zandy thought.

The conversation of love had happened one day when you were putting him to bed after a long day. It had become a sort of routine for the two of you. You liked it because why wouldn’t you, it was the cutest thing ever. Zandy liked it because of how nice you were even when he really didn’t want to sleep yet, always indulging him with a story or a warm glass of milk. The segments liked it because they didn’t need to deal with him.

“[Name], you love the segments, right?” Zandy had noticed that the word ‘love’ came out of your mouth rather frequently, compared to the other blue-haired men. You blinked at the question.

“Yes, I do. Why?” You asked as you tucked him in for the night alongside his Ruin Guard plushies (that you extorted the segments for.)

“All of them?”

“Of course.”

“Omega and Beta and Alpha and Delta and Zeta and-” His words were stopped by your laughter.

“Yes, dear. And Theta and Psi and Epsilon and- you don’t need me to list out all of their names, right?” Zandy shook his head but he still had another question for you.

“How much love do you have in you, [Name]?” The child couldn’t help but wonder how you did it - loving that many people seemed like a lot of work. You chuckled at the question.

“Very, very, much. You cannot put a quantity to love. It just happens when I’m surrounded by so many lovely people,” you kissed the boy on his forehead. “And that goes for you too. I love you very much, Zandy.” The child’s eyes widened as he fell silent, to which you questioned.

“Zandy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, his words further muffled by how he had now pulled the blanket over his head. You quickly connected the dots. He had probably never been told before that he was loved. You moved your hand under the blankets until you could feel one of his tiny hands, and then intertwined your fingers with the child’s.

“Hey, no need to lie to me, dear. You don’t have to hide around me,” you tried to gently soothe Zandy and coax him out when he spoke again.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“That you love me.” His head popped back out of the blanket as he stared at you with big, uncertain eyes, but you only smiled in response.

“Well… for me, it’s simple. It brings me great joy to see you happy and smiling, and I want to make sure you continue to do so. I want to protect you, and I don’t ever want to see you hurt or sad. I want to make sure all of your wishes and dreams come true, and I want to keep you safe.” You said as you stroked Zandy’s hair. (You would have said that you loved him just as any parent would love their son, but you knew that with his experiences… it may not have been the most efficient.) Zandy’s lowered his eyes as he began to chew on his lip in thought.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone before, [Name].” Zandy thought back to his parents, people whom he thought he loved, but now that he had you around, he realized that his feelings for them were nothing compared to what you made him feel. Loved.

“That’s quite alright. Love is a beautiful thing, but it isn’t easy. What matters is that one tries.” That was a lesson all the segments could use. It was a bit confusing for Zandy, but somehow, he felt he understood.

“I see…” The sleepiness had finally fully hit Zandy as his eyes began to droop.

“Now, go to sleep. You don’t want to wake up tired tomorrow.” The child nodded and snuggled more under the cover. “Sweet dreams, dear.” You squeezed his hand before kissing his forehead one last time, and then getting up to turn off the light. As the room turned dark, you heard a small voice from behind you.

“I… love you, [Name].” It was quiet enough that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have heard it, but you found his shyness endearing.

“I love you too, my child.” You smiled before exiting Zandy’s room, leaving him to have wonderful dreams, and then you were slightly startled by the man waiting outside for you. Dottore, rather, Prime Dottore himself. Zandik.

“Dottore. You’re here. I’ve missed you!” Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness as you saw the person you loved. He looked pleased to see you as well, as you linked your arm around his. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long. I was putting Zandy to bed.”

“I am aware. You do so every day.” You giggled, a little bit embarrassed.

“Well, someone needs to. You know, you should join us! We could always use another playmate.”

“I believe you are far more suited to the task than I am. Moreover, how have you been feeling as of late? It seems you have more energy than usual.” The way he quickly changed the conversation didn’t go unnoticed by you. You had told yourself that you wanted to help Dottore by helping Zandy, but it seemed to you that he rarely ever interacted, or even wanted to interact with the child. Dottore didn’t talk to his segments much in general, but he still had to for experiments and general Fatui business. Zandy, however, was the exception. It did hurt your heart to see it happen.

Back in your room, you had some thinking to do.

Now that you thought about it, you should have seen this coming. It made a lot of sense for Dottore to behave like this. You knew his feelings toward his childhood, towards himself in fact. But was it right? Was it fair? Of course not, at least in your opinion. However, you didn’t know what Zandy thought about this. You had yet to see the two together, and you had never asked him about Prime either.

You wondered what your lover thought when he heard of you and Zandy together, you hugging and showering him in affection. Did he like it? Was he annoyed? Or did he not care, maybe something else? You always prided yourself on being able to comprehend him but…

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But you would see it to the end.

IV. complex

You often enjoyed taking walks around the lab. It was a good pastime and a way to keep your body active, not to mention the times you’d bump into a segment and end up taking a little break with him. Although you enjoyed the time by yourself, it could be a bit too lonely sometimes, which was precisely why Zandy came along.

You had found out that he knew every nook and cranny of this place like the back of his hand, having explored it for countless years as he had nothing better to do. Therefore, Zandy often showed you around the lab, more specifically, the unknown and harder-to-reach parts, also known as his favorite hiding spots. You were quite grateful for his assistance, as you were sure you’d never discover some of these places on your own.

Zandy was a bundle of energy that you could handle, well, most of the time at least. Were it not for your illness, you would have matched it easily. You felt a bit bad about not being able to keep up with him, but the child never minded. Although he tended to run in the halls and drag you around, he always paid attention to whether you seemed to need a break. A real sweetheart, indeed.

Today was one such day.

You and Zandy had already been in this area before, but it was so big you couldn’t complete it all in one day. The kid was eager to continue exploring with you, scampering in front of you and then jumping in place for you to catch up. You believed he was especially excited because, on one of these journeys, you two had discovered some sort of creature… or rather creatures lurking around.

The corridors always had some darkness to them, so you had not noticed the black puff balls hiding until one of them popped open its singular red eye at you. You would have yelped if you weren’t in awe of the cuteness of the silly creature. Similarly, once Zandy followed your line of sight, stars appeared in his eyes as more black puff balls came out of nowhere, and began scurrying toward you. The singular blue strand of hair reminded you of someone. Your best guess was that it was one of Dottore’s failed experiments.

Before you could advise the child to be cautious of these pufflings, Zandy had scooped one up already and was petting it. At least they seemed to be friendly - they had even gifted you a couple of shiny things, tiny pieces of minerals. And you swore you caught sight of a fluffy blue thing with a tail peering from afar too that seemed to be too shy to approach. Perhaps Dottore would let you keep them as a pet if you asked?

You giggled to yourself as you finished reminiscing about that. You did hope you ran into those things again. Meanwhile, Zandy had already gone ahead, turning into another hall.

“Now Zandy, don’t run too fast before you trip and fall!” You called after him, increasing the pace of your steps to chase after him.

“Come on, all the Mr. Fluffies are wait-” Zandy’s joyful voice abruptly stopped. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before pushing yourself to jog a little faster. And that’s when you saw the reason why he had stopped - Dottore was standing over the little boy, the height difference so palpable that they both had to crane their neck to view the other. It seemed that Zandy bumped into him, but you were happy to see your two favorite people together. Perhaps this was a good chance to put another plan into action!

“Hello, Dottore. I’m glad to see you out of your office so much,” you greeted your lover with a pleasant smile. The man had no expression, while the boy hid his relief when he saw you. You tried not to bite your lip.

“I did not expect to see you here.”

“You know I like to take my daily walks, so Zandy here was just showing me some more places to go. But it looks like your secret spots aren’t so secret anymore, are they Zandy?” You chuckled light-heartedly, but when you looked down, you saw that the child was fidgeting with his fingers awkwardly, clinging onto your cling.

“Mhm.” Your smile fell.

“I see.” The two did not make eye contact, the tension suffocating. You cleared your throat.

“W-We could use another person to-”

“Unfortunately, I am preoccupied at the moment,” the Harbinger quickly dismissed your request. “However, do remember not to push yourself. Your body is still weak.”

“... Of course.”

“Good.” With a nod to you and without further eye contact to Zandy, he walked away. You held back a sigh before you ruffled the kid’s hair.

“Shall we continue?” Your smile didn’t reach all the way to your eyes, but you hoped Zandy wouldn’t realize. But before you could move, he spoke.

“Why do you like him so much, [Name]?” The child repeated the question he remembered asking you while you were still asleep. This time, however, he would finally get an answer. You crouched down to Zandy’s level, placing your hands on his shoulders as you pondered what to say.

“I love Dottore because… he makes me feel loved too. For centuries, he’s treated me better than anyone else. His kindness may not be typical, but I still receive it happily. His sweetness is bitter, but the taste is pleasurable. His love isn’t ordinary, but it soothes me either way.”

“That makes sense.” Zandy knew that wasn’t a lie. He had seen how his creator treated you. “Then Prime must feel the opposite toward me.”

“That’s not true.” You frowned as you immediately shot down the thought, stroking Zandy’s cheek gently. “Dottore just-” Before you could finish, Zandy looked up at you with a wide, forced smile as he broke free from your hold.

“It’s okay, [Name]. It doesn’t bother me. Now let’s go, I want to find those puffy things again!” And then the child was off, and you were left with an aching heart.

That same night, you paid Dottore a visit, unwilling to be a bystander in this anymore. At least he was doing paperwork this time. It was easier to gain his attention than when he was doing an experiment.

“Dottore.”

“Hello, [Name].” The scholar didn’t look up from his work, as he was already used to you popping in and hanging around for a bit.

“Are you busy?”

“I-”

“Good. We need to talk.” Dottore paused and looked up at you for a moment, who had now stood in front of him, your hands balled on his desk. He took in the dissatisfied look and thin line in replace of your usual smile, before responding.

“About?”

“Why do you ignore Zandy so much?” You said plainly, not in the mood to beat around the bush. From the way his pen stopped, you think he knew this was coming eventually.

“I simply do not have time to entertain the whims of a child.”

“It has nothing to do with that! I-, this is just basic decency. It feels to me that your lack of consideration is on purpose. It is, isn’t it?” Dottore was silent, not even moving his pen.

“Answer me, Zandik.”

“He has you. It is enough.”

“It is not enough. Zandy is a child. He is hurt by you. You are hurting yourself, Zandik. Do you expect me to be okay with this?” Dottore’s pen had started moving again. Your palms hurt from your fingers digging into them so harshly. In a last-ditch effort, you attempted to speak to him using those terms he liked so much.

“Did you not create him to understand his perspective of everything? So, how do you plan to do that if you do not try to speak to him?” It seemed you were not going to let this go.

“I created my segments to observe their perspectives. To preserve it,” Dottore clarified.

“Observe?” You laughed at that. “Pray tell, how will you do that if you don’t even try to be around the child for more than five seconds? And besides, merely observing never brings you the most satisfying results. I thought you of all people would understand that,” you quipped back.

“Please, at least… at least tell me you’re going to try. Just try, even if it doesn’t work out,” you pleaded with your love. Unfortunately, your words could not reach him.

“It is late. You should go to sleep.” You gritted your teeth at his response.

“Fine. Then I will simply treat you the same way as you do with Zandy.” As he opened his mouth to defy your declaration, you quickly spoke again. “If you think I won’t do it, then you forgot the person I was in the Akademiya, and who I still am now. I do this because I love every single version of you, Zandik, more than anything else in this world. If you want to test my love, then by all means go ahead, but I doubt you’ll find even one possibility where you’ll be able to. Good night.” Your tone was hard and biting as you left without letting him get in another word.

Dottore could only watch as you stormed out, leaning back in his chair to rub his forehead as his mask clattered to the ground. Il Dottore was used to getting his way. Zandik, however, not so much, especially when you were in the picture. This perspective of yours was always… always something he struggled to understand.

Of course, the Harbinger learned very quickly that you would make good on your word. Instead of his name being called, he had to deal with his segments being asked for instead.

“Omega, please administer the medicine for me today.”

“Delta, could you come over here? I feel a bit unsteady on my feet.”

“Sigma, would you visit me before bed? I would like someone to chat with.”

“Beta, let’s go to your lab. I’m bored!”

You walked past him without a glance. You did not ask him anything. You did not refer to him. He was practically invisible to you. You knew that you were technically being more harsh to him than he was to Zandy, but you weren’t going to stop. You also hoped that helping Dottore to be kind to Zandy would eventually spread to the other segments too. The segments were initially baffled by the turn of events but quickly adjusted to it, although the look Prime gave them certainly wasn’t something they wanted to endure. It didn’t need to be said that Prime was awfully upset, despite his unbothered expression.

In the past, every time you had pulled a stunt or something after an argument, Dottore would find it amusing. He had a bad habit of being unyielding and refusing to admit he was in the wrong, and that was coupled with his idea that you were just being childish. But every time, you stuck it out until the end and refused to back down too. Eventually, he stopped finding it funny.

The stalemate went on for a while. Dottore’s bed had remained cold for far too long, no longer having the pleasant surprise of finding you on it sometimes. His office was silent, your visits becoming nonexistent. Despite how he chided you sometimes for bothering him, his mind had become preoccupied with thoughts of you and what you were doing. It wasn’t good for someone who had so much work to do, and for someone who hated giving in. This simply wouldn’t do.

At the very least, he could at least still follow you around to see your sweet smile and laughter. You just didn’t know. However, it seemed every time he longed for you, you also happened to be with the kid. For a long time, every time he saw you be so sweet to the child, it felt like seeing an impossibility become a possibility, and yet he tried his best to ignore it. He knew how fond you were of his child segment, well, Zandy as you’ve come to call him, and he… he just didn’t…know how to feel.

Yet now he felt himself somehow drawn to the scene, in a strange way. Was it because he liked seeing you happy, and the child seemed to bring out your brightest smiles? Was it because seeing his child segment like this wasn’t something he’d ever witnessed before? Was it because he himself had never been treated so kindly as a child, and yet now he was watching it happen in front of him? Was it because his deepest wishes that he buried with his childhood self were now becoming reality? Dottore ignored the answers to his own questions, attempting to finish a report that was long overdue for Pantalone, but his mind continued to wander about what he had witnessed.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you and Zandy having dinner.

You and Zandy were sitting across from each other eating. Well, it was more like you trying to convince the child to eat at least a few of his vegetables.

“Zandy, at least eat a few. You don’t need to finish it all,” you gently urged the child. “How else are you going to become big and strong?”

“But they’re yucky,” he pouted. You chuckled.

“Perhaps I need to experiment more… I will find a way to prepare it in a way you like, my child. But for now, if you eat a bit more, I’ll… give you my dessert!” Zandy perked up at your words while stabbing the dreaded green thing with his fork.

“Deal!” He exclaimed while forcing the vegetable into his mouth (eating with his ‘family’ for once.)

Dottore remembers when he overheard you and Zandy playing a game.

You had recently purchased a game from abroad to pass the time. It had four surfaces and numerous columns that you needed to place small, medium, or large gears on. The objective was to place the right gears at the right locations in order to get them all going. Although you originally bought it for yourself, Zandy was quite excited by the idea, and you were never going to turn down an opportunity to challenge his brain. Within reason, of course.

In the end, you were content with simply watching the child play with the gears and figure out the answer by himself, or with small hints from you.

“Would you look at that! You’ve already finished all of the levels, and we’ve only started today… I didn’t even need to be here since you’ve got such a smart brain up there,” you teased, tapping Zandy’s forehead playfully. He blushed slightly.

“That’s not true. Your advice was really helpful, [Name]!”

“Perhaps, but your own thoughts were already more than enough. I would like to hear them more often.” The child glowed at the idea of you listening to him (instead of shunning him.)

“Okay!”

Dottore remembers when he overheard you reading Zandy a book.

You had a tendency to invite Zandy over to your room often, considering how much Zandy liked it. He marveled at the size and all your decorations, and the collections of your interests (how you had gotten Dottore to fund this was beyond the child’s imagination.) Not to mention, how soft and fluffy your numerous pillows were. Tonight, you were reading him a story, the child lying back against your chest as you held the storybook in front of you two.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” you said as you stifled a yawn, and you also noticed Zandy was doing the same. “We can continue tomorrow.”

“Okay…” Zandy mumbled tiredly enough not to put up a fight. You put the book to the side and turned off the lights (with a remote, courteously created by Dottore for the days you couldn’t get out of bed.) Pulling up the blankets, you were about to wish the boy good night when he spoke.

“[Name]?”

“Yes?”

“I always have lots of fun when I’m with you but… do I bother you too much? I know you’re probably busy and you also have your illness and-”

“Zandy. I love spending time with you. And even if I am busy, I will always make time for you, no matter what,” you promised the boy (unlike that man and woman who left him forever alone.)

“Oh…”

“See? So don’t ever feel bad about it,” you reassured Zandy, which left him with only the sweetest of dreams to dream.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you gently lecturing Zandy.

Children are pure-hearted and innocent, and even Dottore was once a child. It wasn’t hard to see that Zandy and his other older selves were starkly different. The former was kind and sweet, and the latter… well, you didn’t need to say it out loud. But the main point was that you didn’t need to worry too much about Zandy hiding stuff from you. Once you broke down his walls, he was a very open and honest child. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you’d say. But of course, children were children.

You had left the child in the kitchen while you went to retrieve a new cookbook the Eleventh Harbinger had gifted you, wanting to try out some new dishes especially since Zandy was interested. When you got back, however, you noticed that his face seemed a bit flushed and nervous, and his hands were in his pockets.

“Zandy? Everything alright?”

“Um, yeah!” His voice sounded a bit odd, and you squinted at him while he avoided eye contact. You’ve dealt with Dottore who was a smooth, easy talker that could spin lies like nothing. Zandy, on the other hand, was too easy to see through.

“Are you sure?” The boy nodded in response, probably so his voice wouldn’t betray him again. “Show me your hands.” But he only had a child’s level of lying, from the way his eyes gave it away.

“But-”

“Now.” Zandy very reluctantly showed you his hand, and you then saw one of his fingers was dripping blood. Your heart sank.

“You’re bleeding? I- What happened?!” You rushed him over to the sink and began washing it, while your other hand rummaged through the cabinets for some cotton or bandages.

“I wanted to be h-helpful and get the stuff out for you. But I dropped a plate and it broke and I tried to clean it up and I cut myself,” Zandy mumbled, clearly not wanting to admit his mistake.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You were already used to seeing your own blood drawn, but Zandy was a different story. Seeing your child hurt had made you dizzy and uneasy, even if it was just a cut.

“... I thought you would be mad.” Zandy’s voice was but a whisper, and your eyes softened.

“And why would I be mad at you?”

“B-Because I broke something…” You sighed as you placed the bandage around his tiny finger.

“But it was just an accident, right? Accidents happen, and furthermore, we have dozens of plates. I would never be mad at something as simple as that. And I care far more for your well-being rather than a mere plate. So next time, please don’t lie to me. Okay, Zandy?” You said gently but firmly, as you finished treating his finger (a far cry from what his punishment used to be, living in that house.)

“Okay, [Name]...” The boy hugged you afterward, blinking back his tears on your shirt so you wouldn’t see them.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you talking to Zandy about him.

The stand-off between you and Dottore had gone on long enough for even Zandy to realize, even though you tried to keep him out of the loop. You should have guessed that the child was going to ask you eventually.

“[Name], are you and Prime fighting?” The question came out of nowhere, surprising you but you hoped it didn’t show.

“We are just having a… disagreement, dear. Nothing to worry about. And no, it isn’t about you or anyone else. It is just a personal thing between us,” you added before Zandy could inquire. You hoped he didn’t feel guilty.

“Do you miss him?

“Of course.”

“Then why fig- disagree so much?”

“Zandy, some things in life can only be resolved with disagreements. You’re not going to see eye to eye with everyone, even those you love. But they’re necessary so that you can move on and grow stronger together,” you explained. “Neither of us enjoys having spats… even though he treats them like a joke sometimes,” the last part was mumbled under your breath, “but we do get through them every time, and although it’s definitely not easy, it’s worth it.” Zandy blinked thoughtfully at your response, (an unconventional depiction of healthy love, rather than the conventional portrayal of an unhealthy one he once knew.)

“You’re really strong, [Name].”

“Strong? Not anymore. Patient? Yes,” you laughed, for you are the only one capable of loving a heretic.

Dottore remembers an awful lot, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care. He remembers all the moments you’ve spent with his child self, from when you were sleeping to when you woke up to the ones he heard through his segments. What you’ve introduced into Zandy’s life is the opposite of what Zandik’s life was like. Sheer love, to put it simply, even someone like him can see it, as he is no idiot. Dottore denies wanting to be accepted, and yet he is watching himself be accepted as he longed for. It makes him feel…

Regardless, this sort of mind wandering was no good for the Harbinger, especially the type where you have forced him to dwell about the child he is and isn’t. Before he knew it, the report sat untouched in front of him for a period of time.

Truly no good, and that is why his feet automatically move to find you once more. In truth, he hadn’t decided what he was going to say to you yet - whether to admit that in his heart he has yielded to you but his words will probably be the opposite.

It wasn’t hard to find you. You were usually in your room or a segment’s, or with a segment himself, minus the times you decided to take walks. At this time though, you’d probably be with the child.

Dottore was right. But it wasn’t quite what he had expected.

You and Zandy had fallen asleep… on the floor, hands barely brushing each other. Dottore sighed at the sight - at least it was rugged and not wooden. The cold wouldn’t have been good for either of you.

(Either of you?)

He made his way over to the two of you, bending down to move you to the bed. He first pulled your body to his chest with ease before his gaze flicked to the child next to you. His breath stills, hand hesitantly hovering over Zandy, fingers twitching with unease.

(Since when did he, the Second Harbinger, one that could very well be compared to a God, hesitate? This was foolish. It didn’t mean anything.)

And then Zandik slid his arm around the boy, bringing him into his chest too, and then rose to put you two comfortably to bed. He never thought he would ever tuck his child segment in, but here he was anyway.

It made him feel a little sick, the unfamiliar sensation along his fingertips and heart and mind.

But Dottore can’t resist giving you a kiss, having missed your lips for so long, which makes him feel a bit better. He’ll always have you, his beloved.

He should leave you two to rest properly, but he finds himself drawn to the scene in front of him. The ill feeling still remains somewhere, but a warmth that he wouldn’t name had started spreading too.

As he makes his way to leave the room, he dares not to look at the drawings scattered around, for they are persistent in portraying him as what he is not. In the poor scribbles, he is not a Harbinger, not a scholar or a scientist, nor a monster or the Doctor or Dottore in them.

He is just a man, one who can succumb to the side of him he so constantly rejects.

V. clumsy

You wouldn’t have believed last night happened if you weren’t there. But it did - you couldn’t sleep after you felt his warm embrace, but more importantly, after he held Zandy. You hadn’t even expected him to talk to the child so quickly, much less hold him so tenderly (even if that wasn’t his intention.) When it came to this kind of stuff, it was never easy to change his mind.

Needless to say, you were pleased but you knew he was never going to admit to it. However, you were still proud of him, and you were still determined to accomplish your goal.

Walking to Dottore’s office was something you had missed. When Zandy had asked you if you missed Dottore, the answer wasn’t just that you missed him - you longed for him, you yearned for his touch, you craved his presence. Such deep love was the reason why you wanted to help him.

When you get there, he’s preoccupied at his desk again. No matter how strong he may be, you still worry for his back sometimes. You should make some more snacks for him later too.

“Dottore,” you say as you walk in. The place was as boring-looking as it always is, the only decorations are the little trinkets you’ve gifted him that lay on his desk. His mouth opens to respond but he then immediately pauses, as he processes whose voice he’s hearing. He takes a few moments to study you as you continue to walk up to his desk, now standing in front of him just as you were the last time you were here.

“Hello, [Name].” He doesn’t show how nice it is to hear your voice again after so long, even though he has dealt with it for over four hundred years.

“Hello, Dottore. And how have you been?” Dottore watches you carefully with your line of questioning.

“As I’ve always have.” You hum in response as you glance at the papers on his desk, idly clicking and unclicking one of his numerous pens (that had yet to snap in half.) “I’ve heard your report for Pantalone is late. Is something occupying your mind, perhaps?”

“There is no such thing. The information is simply-”

“You know, I saw you last night, Zandik.” Your words cut him off as you watch his shoulders tense, and then relax. “I saw what you did.”

“I… see.” He probably knew it was futile to deny the claim. “And?” He watched as you walked around to his chair, your eyes glancing to his lap and back to his eyes as if asking for permission. He motioned for you to come closer, and you settled down on his lap, legs hooked over to the side. You were silent for a few moments before you reached for his large hand and held it with yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“I won’t ask you to explain anything to me,” you began. “I… I don’t want to sound like I’m pitying you, I know you despise that, Zandik.” He remained silent. “But we,” you stressed on that word, “we can still make things right. It’s not too late to change things, no matter what’s happened before,” you said softly as you cupped Dottore’s cheek, caressing it gently. Your lover remained silent as he continued to look at you, his hand reaching to intertwine with your own.

“I remember every time your perspective clashed with mine,” he replied. You tried to ignore your rapid heartbeat. “And I remember the end result was that you were always right, and I was too stubborn. Yet you always pushed me to see it your way regardless.” Dottore’s hand rested on top of your head, stroking your hair as he considered his next words.

“Maybe this time I shall save myself the time and energy and listen to you instead.” You could have fainted, hearing Dottore admit that to you. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to respond with, but there was nothing else you could do other than smile, ignoring the prick of tears in your eyes, and the way your breathing stuttered.

“... Thank you, Zandik. Thank you,” you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“However, I must say I may not be up to your-”

“You will,” you quickly interrupted. “You will be. You can do this, with me of course. We’ll take it slow and easy of course, I know this is quite hard and you’re busy and-” you continued to reassure him while squeezing his hand and nodding passionately, while he watched amused.

“I question where your confidence comes from.” You smiled, for that was an easy question.

“Because you are no monster, Zandik. Not to me, at least, the person who knows you better than anyone else. And even if the world views you as one, well… I suppose we would be two monsters together. That’s not too bad, right?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit too.

“Perhaps you could be right.”

From then on, it was certainly a journey. An exhausting and long one to say the least. But it was also a rewarding one.

Obviously, even though he had given you his word, real life was different from the fantasy you wished for. There were still his overwhelming duties as a Harbinger, there were many days he didn’t even have time for you. And you - there were many days your illness left you far too tired to move around or even speak to anyone. And of course, Il Dottore was not going to change his ways overnight. It was hard dealing with him sometimes. There were still arguments. Clashes. Annoyance. It was never easy to mesh differentiating perspectives into one.

Still, nothing was enough to deter you or your love for him.

a. the potential attempt

The first step was to get them to be in the same space. Not even closely or with interaction, just to get them comfortable enough with each other. When you proposed the idea to Zandy, the baffled look on his face nearly made you laugh. He initially didn’t want to, which you could understand, but you played it off as wanting to spend time with both of them, considering how Dottore was frequently busy. Getting Zandy to agree wasn’t that hard, considering how much he loved you, but you still felt a bit bad. But this was for a good cause!

You were accustomed to chilling wherever Dottore was without fear. Zandy, on the other hand, was not the same. He spoke quietly and always flickered his eyes to see where and what Dottore was doing.

“Zandy, you don’t need to worry about him. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“But…”

“Trust me. I bet he can’t even hear us right now,” you nudged him to look at the older man. “See that look on his face? How hard he’s gripping his pen and how fast he’s writing? That’s how you know he’s so incredibly focused, he tunes out the rest of the world.” Still, the child didn’t look too convinced by your words, so you decided to prove it.

“Dottore, I made you some baklava,” you said rather loudly, yet there was no response. Zandy looked surprised now, you both knew how much Dottore enjoyed Sumerian desserts. “And, I brewed you a new pot of coffee.” His pen continued to scribble across the paper, as you then turned to Zandy.

“See? No need to feel so cautious.” Zandy’s shoulders seemed to relax until you spoke again. “Now you try it.”

“Me?!” Zandy whisper-yelled, looked as if you had asked him to commit a crime.

“Yes, you dear. How else will you get comfortable with him?” The child pouted and nuzzled into your arm, seeing as you weren’t going to give up. He chewed on his lip and he began to speak.

“I… Prime…,” Zandy tried to think of something, anything, “Prime… I ate your sweets!” The child immediately regrets it at record speed, anxiously hiding behind you.

“... My, my, how bold. Even I wouldn’t say that.” Zandy peeked out behind you and saw his creator was still diligently writing, and breathed a sigh of relief. “See, not that bad, right?” The boy nodded, but his mind wandered.

“[Name], I didn’t eat his sweets.” You cocked your head at his statement. “... But I think Beta did.”

“Oh dear. I suppose it’s time to get a lock on that fridge now… and then we need to make some more before-” At that moment, a snapping sound from the side made you two jump.

Ah. Dottore had finally broken his pen. Well, that one lasted longer than usual. You and Zandy watched with held breath as Dottore scowled and cast the broken utensil to the side, before looking at each other and trying to hold in laughter, avoiding the Harbinger’s eye contact and returning to what you two were previously doing. The man looked at your giggling faces with confusion.

“Is something the matter?”

“Not at all, love. Not at all,” you smiled, but by the fact that even his child segment seemed to be giggling, he knew you said something. (He ignores how foreign the laughter of the child sounds to him.)

Regardless, he sends you a look before shaking his head and returning to work (with a new pen.)

b. the awkward attempt

One of the moments that captured your heart was when Zandy walked in on Dottore giving you one of your shots. Needles weren’t unfamiliar to you anymore, and although they scared you (and still did, to be honest), thankfully Dottore and the segments had enough patience to make it as painless as possible. Zandy, however, never really saw the checkups or anything related because you really didn’t want to worry the child about your illness. But you supposed it would happen eventually.

The atmosphere had suddenly turned a bit awkward with Zandy now standing at the door, eyes on the rather large needle that sat on the tray, that was definitely going into none other than you. From his wide eyes, you could tell it probably wasn’t what he was expecting to see. Of course, needles, especially a big one like Dottore was holding, would scare any child his age.

“O-Oh! Zandy, you can wait outside for a few minutes. You don’t need to watch,” you explained, while Dottore stood silently next to you as he prepped the area of your arm. The child seemed conflicted for a few moments before he decided to walk closer to you and the Harbinger.

“No, it’s okay. I… want to see,” Zandy said. In reality, the boy knew you hid certain things from him and wished to know the truth. He wanted to know how badly you were hurt, maybe he could try and do something for you. (Perhaps this too, is a side effect of teaching him what love is.)

“You do? Well… I guess I won’t stop you then,” you said, a bit confused but you wouldn’t just send him away. Dottore placed a hand on your shoulder and got you to relax again for him. Meanwhile, Zandy had come up to the opposite side and looked at you with slightly worried eyes.

“Is it going to hurt, [Name]?”

“Well, it does prick a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s the same as any other shot,” you tried to reassure him as his gaze became downcast. You bit your lip nervously, about to give him a solution, when out of nowhere Dottore himself spoke.

“Physical and emotional support from another party often makes the procedure less painful for the recipient,” he said in a monotone as if he wasn’t speaking to either of you at all. You and Zandy blinked at him before he continued. “I’m going to start the injection now.” Suddenly, it seemed like Zandy understood the message, as the child then grabbed your hand, and squeezed it with his much tinier one.

“You can do this, [Name]!” His instant enthusiasm distracted you from the prick of the needle, but also the fact that Dottore technically spoke to Zandy, encouraging him even. It was simply adorable.

“Zandy, I-”

“You know, there was one time I fell while-”

“Oh wow-”

“But I was okay because-”

“I see-” You had decided to continue smiling and nodding at the child’s attempt to distract you from the shot until he abruptly stopped, his eyes flickering to where Dottore had now finished bandaging the area.

“Ah, it’s finished,” you breathed a sigh of relief and deflated on the chair, but Zandy still had a load of energy for you to entertain.

“You didn’t even look a bit scared, [Name]!” You grinned and ruffled his hair.

“Why, I doubt anything in this world could scare me when I have my lovely son and husband with me,” you smiled as you kissed Zandy’s forehead, which he beamed at while Dottore turned away to clean up, an attempt to ignore how the scene made his chest feel.

A family, huh?

What a strange thing.

c. the successful attempt

You were quite proud of the progress Zandy and Dottore had made together, but still, the most important part remained. Now that you had gotten them to be in the same room with each other, you wanted them to at least manage a few short conversations. That was the biggest and most difficult part of this whole thing, but starting small was always the key. And so you decided to somewhat ‘force’ them into such situations. How? By just making the child run errands for you. (Sure, you could have let things run their natural course, but with these two, they definitely needed some kind of push.)

An easy way to make Dottore lighten up was to cook something yummy for him, with bonus points if it was something from his homeland. So that was what you and Zandy did - whipped up a bunch of samosas and even a pita pocket (since you knew he had definitely been skipping meals, much to your dismay.) You had packaged them nicely in a container for him to eat at his leisure and instructed Zandy to deliver them. He seemed less nervous than before but still a bit on edge, nevertheless determined to fulfill your wishes, as he soon found himself in Prime’s office. The man seemed surprised. The child avoided eye contact. The room was silent, without you to act as a middleman.

But Dottore decided to begin.

“Did you need something?” Zandy perked up at the acknowledgment and quickly began walking to his desk, slightly standing up on his tippy-toes to push the container of food in front of his creator.

“[Name] and I made this for you. They said you need to eat more or they’ll get mad again,” the child repeated your words verbatim, trying to gauge Dottore’s reaction. The scholar’s hands glided against the plastic, looking at the tasty treats that lay inside.

“I see. Thank you.” He began to set them to the side before Zandy spoke again.

“Um, they also want you to try one.” Dottore paused. Of course you would say that, he sighed.

“Very well.” He opened the container and picked out a samosa, the snack still warm. He ignored how enticing it was to his stomach and began to lift it to his mouth when he stopped and pushed the box closer to his child segment. Zandy looked at him with curious eyes and he motioned for him to take one. Happily, the boy indulged his request and popped the samosa into his mouth, which Dottore soon followed suit, the two savoring the flavors of your delicious and homey cooking.

“How would you say that was?” He questioned Zandy. The child still had trouble he was being acknowledged so much but responded in kind.

“The most delicious thing ever!”

“I would say the same.” And that was the end of the conversation, as Dottore returned to his work and Zandy scurried away, both content with the conclusion. Dottore’s answers may have been short and swift, but it was progress.

By now Dottore had caught onto your little game, while Zandy was just happy to be helpful to you. There were a lot of other instances where you sent him to Dottore - to fetch some medication, to bring Dottore a letter (that totally didn’t just have three words on it), to bring him some new writing utensils, and much more. The occurrences were all short, but they were beginning to grow a lot less awkward. You were happy.

This time you asked Zandy to fetch a book from Dottore, which was actually a legitimate request this time. He really wanted to learn more about those Ruin Machines, and you figured it would be a lot easier if you had a book as a reference. (Dottore had not yet gotten used to the Zandy’s appearances, still a bit stiff and unsure about the whole thing. But they weren’t unwelcome visits, no, they were starting to become a constant in his life.)

Zandy, on the other hand, had already started to feel much better about interacting with Prime Dottore, thanks to your words and Dottore’s much better actions. The once dreaded path to his office had now become a lot more lighthearted. Sure, he was still a bit tense sometimes, but he thinks most people are that way around Dottore (except you, you’re special), so when he finally makes it to his creator��s office once more he’s not too scared. The older man doesn’t seem to be surprised at his visits anymore.

“And what request do you come to me for today?”

“[Name] and I need a book.” Dottore’s eyes widened. You knew the kind of books he had were… well, inappropriate for some eyes. “A book about Ruin Machines and Guards and Graders and Hunters and their parts and designs and all that cool stuff!”

“I see.” Well, that made more sense. The Harbinger got up from his seat to retrieve a book on that topic, when a sudden and uncharacteristic thought came over him. He did enjoy reading books, as they were a wondrous source of information, but he still far preferred hands-on learning. He wondered if… if perhaps his younger self would prefer that too right now.

No, he knew Zandy would, he was literally him when he was a kid, but the question was whether Dottore was up to this or not. A while ago, this situation would have been impossible. But now, it was a possibility, an outcome that only Dottore could choose to achieve. He stared at Zandy, who had begun to get a bit nervous at the strange attention.

“If you’re busy-”

“Would you prefer it if I showed you instead, rather than simply viewing pictures?”

“Like the actual machines?” Zandy’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“No, just the parts. But I believe it will be more interesting than only examining them in a book.” He could already hear you in his ear if he decided to let the child near those things, especially without you. Zandy only felt a moment of disappointment before he quickly bounced back.

“Please! I want to see the parts! Can I touch them too? Will you show me what they do?” His barrage of questions was sudden, but the scientist found himself enjoying them. After all, if no one else will indulge his curiosity, then he must do so himself, no matter what age he is.

(Although he’s only a few minutes into the explanation, his younger self’s eyes glimmer with a brightness he’s never seen, or at least never noticed before. Were his eyes always this red? You always compliment the color of his, but he can’t seem to remember his eyes ever having such a radiant gleam. He ignores it, for he’s sure his own eyes were never like that as a child.)

Meanwhile, you were left wondering why the boy had been gone so long. Did something happen? You decided to make your way over to Dottore’s office when you heard the voices spilling out of the ajar door. A young and chirpy one, and an old and tired one, and yet they both seemed equally as excited about whatever the subject matter was.

Peeking in, you were beyond surprised to see your husband and child sitting next to each other, a variety of mechanical parts surrounding the two. Zandy was examining one while Dottore rambled on about it, yet in a logically sound way that even a child could understand. You remember the same thing happening to you back in the Akademiya.

Your heart beat excitedly at this discovery. The way they seemed comfortable with each other, despite their strained relationship from a while ago… in fact, perhaps you could say it looked like a father and his son. All that was missing was the other parent. But should you ruin the moment? You wanted it to last forever…

Unfortunately, staring for too long had attracted the attention of Zandy, who brightened even more at your presence, and quickly waved you over, which also alerted Dottore. Well, there was no hiding anymore, as you began to walk towards the two you loved the most.

“Well well, lucky you, Zandy. To get a lesson from none other than Dottore in Automatons! But oh, I am a bit hurt. Are my teaching skills not up to par for you two?” You teased them lightheartedly, which Zandy giggled at, and Dottore scoffed.

“Fa- Prime wanted to show me the stuff instead of us going through that huge book together. It’s much more fun this way! Oh, but I should have come and told you though… sorry.” Dottore didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him to. You went to the opposite side of Zandy and sat down, wrapping your arm around him.

“Perhaps I too could be one of your students, Dottore? Zandy and I are eager to learn more!” Dottore let out a sigh at your antics.

“Then listen carefully, because I will not repeat myself to you.”

“How cruel!”

The laughter of two echoed throughout the room, while the other could only smile.

VI. coldness

You loved your family very much. That was obvious to anyone who saw you with them.

Pantalone who asked about how your son was faring, and if your husband would be able to produce sufficient results soon. Columbina who liked to play dress up with you and Zandy to wear matching outfits, while Dottore obviously refused to entertain her nonsense. Childe who couldn’t help but be fond of Zandy as well, tempted to introduce him to Teucer, but also greatly questioned your choice of husband (and father.) The Fatui agents who watched you squish the young segment’s cheeks and tease your imposing Harbinger husband in broad daylight. It was certainly something to see, and one wouldn’t believe it until they saw it with their own eyes.

Meanwhile, the segments had been onlookers on the whole thing.

You were sure each individual segment felt a bit differently about the situation, but the general feeling was probably jealousy. Jealousy toward Zandy for being able to take up so much of your attention. Well, that had always been the case since you’d met the child, but it increased a lot since your journey to help Dottore reconcile with his past self. You just hoped as the years went by, their attitude would change. If you had gotten Prime to change, then his segments weren’t impossible, right? You did see a few of them start to be a bit more patient with Zandy!

Regardless, you were more than happy with the outcome. Dottore and Zandy were talking to each other like normal human beings now. Sure, there were still moments where they were awkward and silent, which was to be expected considering how many years went by with their relationship nonexistent.

Physical affection, however… well, it still had some work left. The only person he wanted to touch him was you since he had known you for so long. Even then, sometimes you couldn’t when he wasn’t in a good mood. So coming to terms with Zandy touching him so casually was still something to get used to. Still, he seemed to have gotten used to the hand brushing and even patted the child’s hair when he did well. On good days, perhaps the child would even be in his lap.

Still, now that you had helped create a bond between them, nothing could stop their progress. Nothing at all.

Dottore still never admitted the change in his feelings to you, but you didn’t need a concrete answer when his actions spoke louder. You lived for the new conversations that now occurred as a result of Zandy, like when he tells you about the time they spent together.

“I’ve heard that you’ve started teaching Zandy more now, Dottore.” (Trying to steal your role as a teacher again, huh?)

“Indeed. We have moved on to quantum physics as well as-” He continued to list off topics you definitely did not study as a child.

“How… enriching, I’m sure.” Perhaps you should start crashing the lessons to make sure he doesn’t overload the poor kid’s brain too much…

Or when you hear about how much they both care for you.

“[Name]?”

“Yes, Dottore?”

“How have you been feeling as of late?” His hands crept up around your neck, brushing his fingers along your collarbones.

“Fine. The same as always,” you responded, which was sort of a truth and lie. You were technically fine, but there had been more days lately that had been a slog to get through with your illness and all. You didn’t want to admit that though. Dottore dragged his fingers along your shoulders in response.

“That’s a lie.” Your face heated up a bit from the proximity.

“That’s not-”

“Zandy,” he began, the name still a bit foreign on his tongue, “told me you’ve barely been sleeping as late. And the tiredness makes it difficult for you to move around. Why didn’t you tell me?” You slumped a bit in your seat at the discovery. You didn’t think the child would know that much less tell Dottore.

“How did he know?”

“He can hear you rustling around in the bed all night,” your husband said flatly as you sighed.

“I’m sorry, love…”

“Next time, I would prefer to hear my spouse’s troubles from their lips rather than someone else. Now come here.”

Or the simpler silly conversations.

“Why did you name him that?” He said one day while lounging on your lap. It was one of those days when it was necessary for him to rant to you about everything and anything.

“Name who what?”

“... Zandy.” Hearing Dottore get used to the name was still amusing to you.

“Why not? There’s a reason why all the segments like their names now, you know. It’s cute, it fits him, he likes it, and it’s way better than what you did,” you teased. Dottore grumbled.

“I still believe there were better options.”

“Yes, yes, says the one who names every experiment with a few letters and numbers. Now continue telling me about Pantalone’s audacity.”

You were happy. Zandy was happy. And you were pretty sure Dottore was happy too. Even through the toughest days, you knew that you had them, and that made things better. You believed nothing in the world would change that or take that away from you.

So when you heard that some of the segments were heading to Sumeru, you weren’t too worried. It was just another mission for them, and although the importance of this one was much higher, you had no doubt the segments would handle it with ease. The lab was emptier than normal, but at least that gave you more time to play with him.

“[Name], why do we go and collect Gnoses?” Zandy was still unaware of quite a few things, as others were unwilling to explain the details of them.

“So that we can fight Celestia,” you hummed as you turned the page of the book. Currently, you two were reading a rather interesting fantasy story, and the two of you had gotten up to the most crucial part - whether the protagonist would choose to further his ambitions or save the one he cherished.

“Why do we need to fight them?”

“Because they’re bad people,” you said as simply as possible.

“When are we going to fight them?”

“I don’t know, but one day we will.”

“Is it going to be scary?”

“Yes, it will. But I will protect you, from now until the end of time, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Okay,” Zandy said, but he still looked a bit sad, naturally. You softly stroked his fluffy hair.

“Don’t dwell on it. You still have lots and lots of happy memories to make,” you soothed him and kissed his forehead. “Nothing bad will happen to you.”

“Thanks, [Name],” he cuddled more into your side as you continued to read the story aloud to him.

The days passed as they always did. Tests. Checkups. The bickering of segments. Dottore popped up here and there, still busy with the Sumeru mission even though he remained at the lab. As always, Zandy remained a constant in your life when everyone else was too busy for you, so you were happy.

It had happened in the middle of a nap when you were shaken awake furiously. When you regained consciousness, you first registered your body being tossed from side to side, and then the blinding light from above. Ugh. What time was it, you wondered, because your mind next processed the desperate voice next to you.

“[Name]! [Name], please, please wake up. Please, he’s going to-” The sheer fright in his voice was enough to jolt you back to reality. You quickly rubbed your eyes and pulled yourself up to face the boy. You wondered what could have happened for Zandy to be this frantic, but the look on his face made your throat close up.

Bright red eyes on the verge of tears, flushed face, quivering lip, and shaking body. A terrible feeling rested in the pit of your stomach as you were speechless for a moment before Zandy grabbed your hands again, begging you to say something.

“Zandy, s-slow down. Start from the beginning. What’s wrong? Who is going to do what?” You placed your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an attempt to calm him. It didn’t seem to do much.

“Omega, Omega’s going to delete me for-”

“What?!” Your voice came out as a shriek. “Tell him no! Tell him I said to stop! I- come with me!” You had already begun to pull him out of bed and out the door, looking like a mess but that wasn’t a worry at all, not right now. Zandy followed you aimlessly, sniffling and sputtering out words.

“B-But not just me, all the other segments are going to be e-erased too! Alpha, Beta, Delta-” You paused, deep fear instilling in your heart as you too began to breathe heavily. Still, you swooped down to Zandy’s height and hugged him, putting on a brave face.

“I won’t let it happen - you’ll be fine. We’ll just go to Prime, and then he’ll-”

“He approved it, though,” Zandy’s voice was tiny as he stared down at his feet as if he too was unwilling to believe he would be betrayed like this. You felt like you were going to be sick, heat rushing to your face, burning you alive.

“What?” Your voice was just as small as the child’s.

“Well, he’s not happy about it, but-” You gritted your teeth.

“I won’t accept it. You will not suffer such a fate, I pro-” You stopped when you heard footsteps approaching.

It was the person you wanted to see the least and most at the same time.

“Dottore,” your voice initially came out exhausted as you forced your shaky legs to stand up again, “Dottore, you best explain yourself right now,” you hissed, the malice now undeniable. “Tell me that this isn’t true.” Dottore opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to realize that it would not be the answer you desired. The Harbinger’s eyes landed on his child self, who now clung to your leg in fear. Zandy looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. Dottore ignored all emotions and focused on his logic.

“It’s neces-”

“Don’t you dare say that!” You interrupted him, hopefully before the child could hear his own creator (or perhaps, father) say he was dispensable. “That’s not true, you know it’s not-” Your words were interrupted by Zandy clutching his head and squeezing your leg deathly tight, the thoughts of the other segments reaching an all-time loud high.

“It’s happening… O-Omega’s going to do it,” the child had broken into full tears as he listened to the others vehemently deny Omega’s decision. He then frantically clawed at your leg, reaching for your hand for some sort of comfort.

“[Name], I don’t want to go! I don’t want to leave you! I don’t want to…” The one in the beginning of his life, the picture of innocence, dared to take one last look at the one in the prime of his life, who he couldn’t recognize anymore. The last word died on his lips. Your heart wrenched and pounded painfully as you looked away to beg Dottore again.

“Dot- Zandik, do something. Please, please stop Omega. I won’t ask for anything else ever again. Y-You can’t take him away from me…! Please!”

And then you felt your hand become empty, and your leg become cold. Bile began to bubble in your throat. You felt like you were going to throw up, wondering if you should dare look back down.

You did anyway.

There was just empty space, Zandy nowhere to be found. Not even his clothes, not a single thing left of him. He had disap- no, he was dead.

Zandy was dead.

Your child was dead.

Your mind was very loud, despite not thinking about anything at all. Your hand twitched, trying to grasp the warmth that was there just a few moments ago. You tried to pretend there was the sensation of him holding you again.

Unfortunately, imagination can’t replicate reality.

You don’t even realize how close Dottore had gotten to you, eyes still frozen on the spot where Zandy just was.

“[Name].” His voice brings you back, but not for a good reason. You blink as you mechanically turn your head to face him. You don’t understand why he isn’t bothered. You don’t understand why he did this. You don’t understand anything. And then your face, which was as still as a statue, suddenly became enveloped in grief and tears. Your husband slightly grimaced at your expression.

“[Name],” he tried again, “I-”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, in that tone of voice,” you snapped amidst your continuous tears. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done to them? To me? To us?” You weren’t sure which you would prefer - that he wasn’t sure about how much this would pain you, or that he did know but went ahead with it anyway. And it wasn’t just you, now that Zandy was gone… he would never be able to make peace with what he was.

“My last words to Zandy were a lie,” you cried. “A lie! I didn’t even tell him that I cared for him, how much I cherished him, how I loved the time I spent with him, how much I loved him!”

“Did any of the time we three spent together mean anything? Did he mean anything to you, Zandik? Or was it just a lie?” You relentlessly spat at him, refusing to let him get in a word. “You just used him and the other segments as bargaining chips. Pawns. They weren’t tools… my child wasn’t expendable, he was a person too,” you sank to the floor, your whole body trembling and immensely fatigued, but your mouth kept moving, wrapped in your incoherent grief. “I thought we could-, no, we were a family… Was I the only one who cared?”

Dottore could only watch as you broke apart in front of him. What could he have said to extinguish your tears? That he didn’t quite want to do this either, but he had to? Regardless of the newly acquired feelings about his segment, nothing… nothing could come in the way of what he had to do.

“Would you do the same to me, Zandik? Would you trade me for a Gnosis, too…?” Dottore stiffened at the question. It was never something he’d thought you’d say, considering how foolish it was. Him? Give you up? No, he would never. Never. He would sooner let all of Teyvat burn but-

“He was just a kid,” you sobbed. “He was just a little boy. How could you? You… you…!” Dottore could feel your sheer rage and sadness easily, his hands wanting to reach out and offer you some sort of comfort.

But he was a monster, and he knew it.

785 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 10 months ago

Text

Black Suit

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader

Summary:

After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong.

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is part of the BAU; very minimal mentions of typical CM themes (murder/crime scenes/etc.) - the primary focus of this fic is smut; the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns;the reader and Emily are in an ongoing dom/sub relationship - this includes the background element of safewords (that are not used) and pre-discussed kink negotiation that doesn’t happen during this fic; Emily is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader kneels for Emily; mentions of subspace (but it’s not directly called that in the fic); the reader wears a collar (no petplay, just as a symbol of her submission to Emily); Emily’s strap-on is referred to as ‘her cock’ or 'her dick’; a very light hit to the face that could barely be considered a slap (not in the name of pain kink, in the name of dominance); hair pulling (reader receiving); strap-on blowjob (the reader sucks it); Emily is fully clothed and the reader is naked; slight cockwarming; strap-on sex - the reader rides Emily’s strap; Emily calls the reader 'babydoll’, 'doll’, 'greedy slut’, 'good girl’, 'pathetic slut’, 'stupid slut’; Mommy kink - Emily refers to herself as Mommy and the reader calls her that; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Emily’s fingers); Emily is generally condescending toward the reader in this, maybe it strays into degradation kink or humiliation kink; verbal degradation; mentions of pulling on the collar - but not quite choking? and I believe that is it.

A/N: This cover is not my favourite - I love the pictures of Emily but I’m not a fan of how dark the background is on the right. This whole fic was inspired by the picture on the left - her sitting in the most beautifully gay way, so I absolutely had to include it in the fic cover. In general, I also just go nuts whenever she wears a pantsuit on screen. It makes me feral. So this was partially inspired by that.

...

“Come on. Come to Mommy.”

Emily had a unique talent for knowing exactly what you needed at any given time. Whether it was a cup of coffee perfectly timed with your three am yawn on an all-nighter case, or her packing a throw-blanket in her go-bag so that you could have a nap on the jet - she was so in tuned with you that she seemed to know exactly what you needed, even before you did.

Today - after a particularly hard, long haul case - what you needed was to be mindless. The stress of the victims, the haunting glow of their eyes in the crime scene photos, it was weighing on you. You needed to be her perfect, sweet toy. And she knew that the minute that the two of you got in the door.

She had mumbled in your ear, telling you to strip as she carried both of your bags toward the bedroom. It was a quiet, but firm order that had you shivering with anticipation seconds. Already, you felt your mind melting out of your ears as you watched the wave of her black hair disappear down the hallway.

Feeling calmed by the acts, you did as you were told.

You stripped completely naked, and then you knelt down on the corner of the living room rug, your hands lightly placed on your thighs, your eyes completely on the floor with your head slightly bowed. It was a submissive position that Emily loved to see you in, patiently waiting like an obedient pet for her.

Just the thought that doing this would please her already had you melting into that soft, comfortable headspace.

It was a simple routine that already had your stressed insides melting into calmness as you did nothing but sit there holding the position, waiting for her. You listened to the sound of her heeled shoes quietly clacking across the floor, and took great interest in the fact that she hadn’t yet taken them off.

While you held the position, not looking up, you listened carefully as she came into the room. Then, quite expectedly, she reached down and wrapped the cool leather of your collar around your neck. Being as obedient as possible, you stayed entirely still while she did it, feeling tingles of satisfaction flow through you as the collar settled onto your neck.

This simple act finished the process of melting your brain completely, and now, you could think of nothing but Emily - nothing but Mommy, how badly you needed her. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shameful at the fact that there was a sticky wetness between your legs and she hadn’t even touched you yet. She had trained you well enough that just these simple acts, just the feeling of your collar around your neck made you so desperate for her touch.

Emily then walked over to the large armchair that she had in the corner of the room. It was something she had there for reading books or enjoying TV (during the little time off between cases that the two of you had).

Mostly, she had the elegant leather chair for moments like this.

“Come on. Come to Mommy.”

It was only when she spoke the words that you had your implicit permission to finally look up at her.

She sat in the chair with her legs spread, a mighty presence in the room with her suit still on. The only difference you noticed from how she had looked for most of the day was a distinct bulge around the zipper of her pants. The idea that perhaps she had taken off her pants, put on her cock, and redressed just to appear this put together for you… it was thrilling.

She had been paying attention when you said you liked the way she looked in the suit. It was meant to be a perfectly innocent comment when you saw the way she was dressed for the day. A simple ‘you look nice today, Em’. But she saw right through you - the lustful spark in your eye, the way you bit your lip. She knew all of your tells too well, and she knew exactly what to do with the information. Something she had been saving until now.

You couldn’t help but to savor the pure air of dominance coming off her with the black blazer and black dress pants draped over her, her black heeled boots still on. Her black button up blouse was still on, but she had a few more of the buttons undone than before.

This showcased the golden key necklace that sat between her breasts. It was something that you had a matching lock necklace of, but you had taken it off and tucked it away with your clothing knowing that it was going to be exchanged for your collar because you were now in the privacy of your home.

The necklace was something you had lovingly gifted her, showing that you truly belonged to her in every way and absolutely loved it.

“Fucking. Crawl.”

Emily ground out the words harshly when you didn’t move fast enough for her liking.

You had become so distracted by her gorgeous appearance, but you rushed to meet the demand when her words hit your ears.

The sound of her voice caused goosebumps all over your skin as you were distinctly reminded of who was in charge. Reminded of why you needed her - because you went so braindead when you became lustful. You needed her to guide you in order to get what you truly wanted.

You crawled to her, making your way to her on your hands and knees. In a very rehearsed part of the ritual, you placed your head on her thigh, looking up the length of her torso at her. You heavily enjoyed how much she towered over you while you knelt at her feet. She gently combed her fingers through your hair while she admired how sweet and submissive you looked.

“What do you need, babydoll?” Emily asked, continuing with that firm but quiet tone that you loved so much. Something that showed her power with an epic subtlety.

You eased your head forward until you were nuzzling at the bulge that was threatening to burst her zipper. You felt nothing but firm silicone under your nose, which caused excitement to pulse through you.

“You.” You told her, your voice slightly breathless already. “Just need you, Mommy.”

You looked up at her with your best pleading doe eyes, knowing that she would give you exactly what you needed without you even having to voice it. She knew you too well. And she always knew what you needed before you even did.

Emily skimmed her knuckles along your cheek, gently prodding her thumb between your lips. In the most natural fashion, you began sucking on the digit, enjoying the feeling as she forcefully pressed it onto your tongue.

Once again, she easily knew what you needed.

“Such a pretty doll for me.” She hummed, clearly enjoying the sight of you on your knees for her.

You hummed happily around her finger at the comment, and she smirked.

“Get my cock out for me, doll.” She ordered, her beautifully calm voice making the words sound like a song.

She gently pulled back her thumb, causing a wet smack as it suctioned from your lips and she ran the tip of it along your bottom lip. Knowing that you were likely foggy, already mushy between the ears, she gave you a light tap on the cheek with her open palm to prompt you into following her instructions.

You grinned at this, letting out a moan as a pleasant warmth spread through you.

You loved it when she took control over you.

You reached up and popped the button on her pants, and the zipper practically burst open with the force of her stiff silicone cock behind it. You helped get it out nicely, almost drooling at the sight before you - her black pants stretched over her thighs where they were spread wide to accommodate you, her bright red, veined strap-on sticked out from the fly of those pants with just a bit of her dark pubic hair visible above the strap’s harness. It was so fucking beautiful that you could have cried.

In fact, you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes as Emily reached down and forcefully grabbed the back of your hair, guiding your head toward her dick.

You hadn’t even realized that your mouth was open wide with your tongue lulled out, needy and panting like a dog - not until she slid her cock so perfectly into the opening. She easily stuffed one of your needy holes and made the other throb almost painfully, making you wish there were two of her so that you could be filled from both ends at the same time.

“Such a greedy slut.” Emily chuckled. “There ya go, suck Mommy’s cock.”

You moaned gratefully around her cock as the thickness of it stretched your jaw open and forced your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth. Your hands naturally fell to sit on her thighs, a lovely heat on her flesh through the material of her suit. She couldn’t help but to sit back and admire you, effortlessly guiding your head up and down on her dick. You were so pliant at this point, almost ragdoll-like, your muscles like clay that needed to be shaped by her touch.

“You gonna warm up Mommy’s cock?” Emily posed, her sweet, soothing voice causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You felt wetness smearing against your inner thighs and you definitely weren’t surprised.

You moaned in affirmation of this, loving the feeling of your lips becoming slightly swollen and sore as she fucked your face on her dick.

“There ya go. Good girl.” She cooed. “Need it nice and wet so you can sit on it, babydoll.”

You moaned even louder at this, and Emily couldn’t resist any longer.

She pulled you up, loving the way your mouth hung slack, showing the messy trail of spit from your lips to where it glistened all over her cock.

She didn’t waste any time then.

She quickly got you up into her lap, having you straddle her with your knees over her thighs.

You were impressed by the fact that her suit was somehow almost perfectly pristine - her pants were barely wrinkled and her upper half didn’t look touched at all. It was something that turned you on to no end, the visual of her in that powerful suit jacket as you sat astride her.

(This would definitely be something you thought about every single time you saw her in a suit on the job from now on.)

She began teasing the stiff cockhead along your dripping folds - apparently all it took was a few moments of her teasing, having your mouth filled and the switch of her dominant persona electrifying the air to flood your pussy. She then used a bruising grip on your hips to pull you down onto the hard length of her cock, perfectly impaling you with it.

You let out a harsh whimper at the feeling of being filled up by her, and Emily smirked at you in a perfectly devilish way. She felt so whole, having you as a perfect naked prize in her lap. She didn’t know how anyone else in the world could be satisfied if they couldn’t have you. (But she also knew that if anyone else tried to touch you, she would have to break their fingers at the very least.)

You sat there for a moment, waiting for her to fuck her hips up into you - waiting for her to fuck you senseless in that perfect way that she always did. After sitting there for a moment and simply having that hardness filling you up, your pussy leaking freely around the girth of her cock (surely smearing your wetness all over the seam of her pants where her cock was poking out through) - you pouted loudly and gently bucked into her.

Emily’s smirk only widened, and she looked ever more like the Cheshire cat. Greedy and satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, relaxing into a comfortable stance with her elbows casually resting on the large arms of the chair. She poised the nail of her first finger up to her lips, holding it tentatively between her teeth as she continued to look at you expectantly.

“Oh, did you want my help?” She asked, pretending to be completely oblivious of your needs.

“Yes.” You moaned out.

Your whole body unconsciously flinched toward her, causing you to move only slightly on her cock, a deeply unfulfilling feeling. It was a harshly nagging fullness with no pay off that begged for more.

“Yes, please, Mommy!” You added on desperately, tears clutching at the corners of your eyes.

“Do it yourself.” She told you, her tone entirely domineering but not lifting a single decibel higher than it had to.

She commanded the attention of your entire body and soul with such simple movements, such a calm voice. It was something that had you clenching around her fake cock and moaning deep inside your chest.

Emily grinned at you and continued on.

“Come on, babydoll.” She told you sweetly. “If you need it so badly, you’ll fuck yourself on my cock like a good girl.”

Of course, you couldn’t resist such gentle dominance. You couldn’t go against her orders.

You reached your hands out and with a subtle nod from her, you knew it was okay to grip onto the lapels of her suit jacket for support. Then, with your knees planted on either side of her thighs in the chair, you began to fuck yourself on her cock.

After the exhaustion of the day, your body wasn’t prepared for the effort. Your hips soon started shaking and Emily watched in utter amusement as you started whining bitterly after only fucking yourself on her cock half a dozen times. She held back a delighted giggle, not wanting to mock you quite yet. She wanted to see how far you could get.

You couldn’t keep the pace - if you were honest with yourself, you had barely even started to reach your desired pace from a lazy crawl. The more you felt jolts of pain shooting through your muscles, pure burning tiredness, the more your sounds turned into petulant whines and the tighter you gripped onto Emily’s suit jacket (wrinkling it quite a bit now).

When you were finally reduced down to mildly humping yourself against her, grinding your hips against hers in slow, lazy strokes, Emily let out a quiet chuckle - a mocking sound that cut right through you (causing your gut to twist with pleasure).

“You having some trouble there, doll?” Emily asked, once again putting on a tone that was playfully ignorant toward your obvious problems.

“I - I can’t do it.” You whined out, feeling tears of frustration bubbling up in your throat. “Mommy, help me.”

“Oh, you can’t do it?” She cooed, clearly teasing you now. “You need Mommy’s help?”

You nodded furiously at this.

She leaned forward and hooked a finger into your collar, yanking on it suddenly in a way that made you moan as your torso was forced to collide with hers and the thickness of her cock jostled inside of you.

“Mommy-!” You gasped, panting against her chin now as she held you there, trapped you in tight proximity to her.

She didn’t let you get any more words out.

“You’re such a pathetic slut.” She scolded you harshly.

You moaned out loudly as she held you close, keeping that one hand with a finger tucked into your collar, holding you tight to her in a way that caused an even, grounding pressure across your neck. She used the other to dig her nails into the meat of your hip, partially fucking you up and down on her cock as she words her hips into you from below.

With her feet planted firmly on the ground, she had the perfect angle to fuck your needy pussy.

In a moment, she had built up a harsh, but slow pace that had you aching and moaning for more. She forced you to stare her in the eyes the whole time, keeping her burning charcoal gaze on yours as she held you there, the tightness of the leather around your neck and the stiffness of her length pushing up inside of you reminding you exactly where you belonged.

“You can’t even fuck yourself on Mommy’s cock, huh?”

She teased, her voice becomingly slightly breathless from her efforts. It was just another thing that made you wetter - hearing her sex-worn voice, still somehow composed.

“You need me to do everything for you, don’t you, babydoll? Need me to make all your decisions for you. Need me to do all the thinking so that your dumb little brain doesn’t even have to try.”

Her words had your pussy fluttering around her cock, trying to milk an orgasm out of the plastic because your body needed her so badly. But that was one of the best parts - because she couldn’t feel her cock, she could fuck you for hours without the curse of overstimulation that you felt. Just another reason that she could be so composed while you fell apart.

“Yes!” You moaned out. “Yes, Mommy!”

“Stupid slut.” She spat the words against your lips, causing you to moan out in an utterly whorish way as she fucked into you harder. “But you love it, don’t you? You love being Mommy’s dumb slut. You love Mommy filling up your needy holes, don’t you?”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoy it, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you want to see more things that I have written about Emily, or if you enjoy my style of writing in general, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or my other Masterlists.

#sundrop writes #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom

472 notes · View notes

spdrvyn · 1 year ago

Text

i'll be lonely with you — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: with the passage of time and whispers from your acquaintances at the spider society HQ, you've found out that your boss has a habit of sneaking out of his office during the dead hours of night to eat dinner. completely alone.

NOTES: new formatting for fics !!! do you guys like it? :3 i decided to include summaries that way it would be easier for people to understand the general jist of the plot without me spewing nonsense in the notes. anyways enjoy !!!!! thanks for the support on my recent works as well ^_^

You didn't consider yourself the most introverted person.

Even when it came to hundreds of Spider-people, you tried to get to know who you could and become acquainted with as many of them as possible. How could you not?

However, there were few that you knew on a more personal level. People that you'd keep close to your side whenever you visited headquarters. People that you'd enjoy having an exchange of gossip with during lunch in the bustling cafeteria.

Miguel O'Hara wasn't exactly one of those people.

It's not like you didn't want to develop something more than a boss-coworker relationship. Though, conversations with him were always difficult, to the say the least. Most of the time, he's talking about work and anything that goes past that boundary goes unspoken.

Quite literally. You've forgotten the amount of times that you've built up the courage to mention anything about your other (not deceased) relatives or your friends and the amount of times that the room was filled with a silence so awkward that crickets are on the same volume as missile launchers.

Though, you didn't want to lose hope. You sort of understood where he was coming from. People go through grief and mourning in different ways, Miguel's was probably just isolation and a complete avoidance of discussions of personal life.

He was a leader. A good one. A trait of a good leader is to connect with their subordinates, establish relationships. So it really made you think.

How messed up was he that he missed that one quality?

"Hey. Your food's getting cold." There it goes, the sound of your train of thought leaving the station. Sometimes, you were grateful for Jess being there for you. She could snap you back to reality you like nobody else could.

You mutter an apology before stabbing your salad with your fork and taking a bite, Jess rests her head on her palm. Raising a brow at you, "So, did you want to eat lunch with me for fun or are you just using me to get info about Miguel? Again?"

Nervously, you shake your head. "It's nothing like that!" She leans in a little more, waving her other free hand in the air in a circular motion.

"...But if you have anything that you'd like to share then I'm not going to refuse entirely—"

"Oh my god. Fine, fine. What do you want to know?"

With that question, it felt like your mind blanked. You fidgeted with your fork, twirling a leaf of your salad against the plate as you pondered on what question to ask.

Jess responds with a deep sigh, "If you're trying to find a way to talk to him more, he doesn't leave that office of his much unless it's for work. He's in there most of time. Although..."

"Although?"

"Although, I've seen him come here normally somewhere around midnight to get a very late dinner alone. The place is less crowded, most are just in their own universe or sleeping or working."

Your face falls a little upon hearing that. "So I can only catch a non-serious conversation with him... in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly. Besides, there's a good chance he's going to just— continue talking about work with you whether he's in his office or not. You know that, right?"

You drop your utensil in defeat, burying your face shamefully in your hands. "I know..."

You quickly wrap up your lunch with Jess, as she shares bits and pieces about him. You had really wondered how she was able to learn all of these things about him anyway but before you had the opportunity to ask her, she told you to not.

Respecting her wishes, you keep your mouth shut. Respecting her even further, you decide to pack up both of your plates and wave her a goodbye before picking up those thoughts that you were left a while ago.

Admittedly, you didn't know why you were so persistent for something like this, for someone like him.

Determination was a strength of yours but that didn't mean that you didn't know where your limits rested and you would back off when you needed to.

There was just something. A swirling feeling in your gut that was telling you to keep going.

That it would be worth it.

So, you follow everything that Jess told you. Around midnight, he'd be alone, in the cafeteria, and looking for an empanada to snack on before heading back into his office. A very small fraction of his time left for personal conversation if you tried hard enough!

This most likely wasn't a good idea. You didn't sleep at all through the day but the thrill kept you alive and thriving. You confidently stride up to the counters of the cafeteria, picking out a small bag of chips for yourself and the last empanada for your soon-to-be snack companion.

Now, you wait.

You surveyed your surroundings and as you were doing that, you realize why he particularly emerges during these kinds of hours to eat. There was a significantly less amount of people.

Whenever you came here during the day, it was a miracle to be able to find completely empty seats. At times, you were forced to sit with a group of people.

You weren't entirely ungrateful for that though, you've made a lot of friends that way. Sure, it was awkward at first but the more you were forced to interact with people that way, the more you adapted to making small talk.

Even then, there were a lot of tables that were taken here save for one completely empty one at the far end.

Then, you finally see that navy and red suit.

Deciding to observe him just a little bit more, you watch him curse under his breath seeing the display case for the empanadas empty. Before he walks away any further, you tap him on the shoulder.

His mask was on, his eyes widen a little bit before you hand him the small box. "I saved the last one for you."

With a soft huff, you see the muscles in his shoulders and back grow loose once more, he hestitantly takes the container from your hands. Looking at it then looking back at you, "Thanks."

You two share a few seconds of awkward silence, you felt a little exposed. You decided to unmask for this because you wanted him to feel more comfortable talking to you rather than who you were as a Spider-person yet there's still that same awkwardness in the air.

Clearly without nothing to do and no idea on how to makem something better out of this, Miguel's about to walk off before you stop him once more.

"W— wait," A little piece of yourself dies inside as you hear yourself stutter but nevertheless, you keep going. "Uh, there aren't any other spots so is it alright if I sit you? I don't know any of the people here."

The way that you see the eyes through his masks narrow ever so slightly once the question escapes your throat makes your heart quiver like crazy.

You wanted to get to know him but damn, if you said that he didn't scare you sometimes then you would be lying.

You cry on the inside with sweet victory as he says...

"Fine."

That was it. That was all you got but you gladly take it! You have to catch up to him though because once you're done mentally celebrating, he's already a little bit far from you.

You try your hardest to keep your head straight but you can't help but look up and spare him one glance, the fact that you even had to look up at him really only emphasized your height difference with him.

Another factor that made you just a little bit more intimidated by him, his physique. You considered yourself to be of average height, you weren't the tallest person in the room but you were never the shortest as well. Just average.

The way he practically towered over you, his hand nearly being the size of your head. It made you feel something.

The moment that both of you have a seat, you take your opportunity.

"So, is there anything that you plan on doing after this?"

You get a little distracted once his mask comes off, he raises an eyebrow at you, crimson eyes that feel like they're looking straight into your soul. Though, side-tracked as he bites into the dough and meaty goodness of his empanada, with a shrug— he replies,

"Not really. Unless there's an anomaly I haven't heard of yet then I have no plans. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Was just curious is all." Why was this so hard?!

The conversation goes as what you expected. You'd ask a question every moment or so and he'd give you a short response before going back to his food. He wouldn't ask you anything back, wouldn't add any 'unnecessary' comments. Just bask in the silence.

You simply couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know how to express your interest in him without asking him more questions about himself which he seems to avoid trying to answer.

You couldn't ask him about his hobbies because he'll most likely say that he's too busy working to actually spend time gaining and branching out to different interests.

Dejectedly, you sigh. "I'm sorry for imposing— on your alone time, I mean." It was like everything that you wanted to say just kept spilling out of your mouth.

"I didn't want to eat with you at this hour because I pity you or— or I found you lonely or whatever. I just thought that whenever you weren't talking about work, we'd be able to get along."

You stand up from your seat, eyes mindlessly darting arounf the labels of the bag of 'Spider-O's' in your clutches.

"I'll, uhm, let you eat in peace now. Once again, I'm—"

"Wait."

Which ever brain cells died from that interaction certainly reignited now. "Sit back down," It comes off an order. An order you certainly obey.

"I wouldn't have actually said yes to you if I didn't want to talk." He starts. "I know a lot of people but it's not in the same way that you do. I know their names, their faces, their canon events. You know their feelings, their mindscapes, and their troubles—"

"—And those are the exact kinds of things that I can't comprehend most of the time. We understand people differently, is what I'm saying. I still have no idea why exactly you sought out me of all people but I will... try to gain this new perspective of things."

You want to tamp down the smile that creeps up on your lips as you hear those words but you can't. What he said, it all made sense now. You couldn't see the full picture still, but you were willing to find it—

"I understand. It's fine."

"So? Do you have plans after this?"

Together.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #kind of #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #jessica drew #jess drew #spiderwoman #made this one extra sappy for u guys #miguel can be #so hard to write sometimes #hope i did him justice here

1K notes · View notes

claudemblems · 11 months ago

Text

A Kiss to End All Doubt | Albert Moriarty

Summary: When you agreed to tag along with the Moriarty brothers to a grand ball, the last thing you expected was to receive a noble's offer of marriage. Thankfully, Albert plays the part of your lover well, perhaps a little too well for his affectionate words to be fake...

Content: SFW. Fem!Reader. 3,723 words. Pining. Soooo much romantic tension. Albert is a flirt and no one is surprised.

Notes: I have been writing this fic for what feels like forever BUT IT'S FINALLY FINISHED :3 I'm so excited to finally give this to you. I hope you enjoy it 💖 I may also add an epilogue if there's an interest for one...🤭

Did Albert Moriarty, one of the many faces of the Lord of Crime, truly not have the slightest idea of the effect he had on you?

It was silly to even fathom that a man of his stature could be so oblivious, but you couldn’t help but start to wonder once he started giving your flushed cheeks and wide eyes a quizzical look.

That, or he was playing coy with you, which wouldn’t be all that surprising coming from him. He’d long since mastered the art of making noble ladies go weak in the knees.

But that was a skill he’d acquired out of pure necessity. If he had things his way, he’d refuse to give the stuck up women of the nobility the time of day. Unfortunately, he had a role to play in all of his brother’s plans, and so he continued flirting with the noble ladies just long enough to leave them wanting more.

You, on the other hand, were no noble. In fact, you had no good fortune, distinguished education, or marriageable prospects to speak of. Truly, you were nothing but a mere face hidden amongst the shadows, which was perfect for an assistant to the Lord of Crime.

You’d begun to empathize with Albert’s disdain for these royal functions, mainly the lavish balls he and his brothers had little choice but to attend. It was important for them to keep up appearances as a well-rounded noble family who knew how to mingle with the upper-class, whether they enjoyed doing so or not. While they seemed to have gotten used to it for the most part, it proved to be quite the difficult adjustment for you. Thankfully, Albert had patiently taught you the ins and outs of noble life, giving you lessons on small talk and etiquette whenever time permitted.

However, he hadn’t yet taught you how to handle a nobleman’s advances.

“You must be Lady [Name],” the man greeted, holding out his hand for you to take. You briefly glanced towards Albert, taking his nod as a sign to follow through with the gesture. A kiss was placed onto your hand before the man let go, stepping back to better admire the exquisite sights around him. “It’s quite a splendid ball, isn’t it? There’s so many well-mannered and intelligent guests in our midst, such as you, young Lord Albert.”

“Lord Darnley, you are far too kind,” Albert said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing. “I ought to be extending the compliments to you. Your presence here is most welcome, as well as that of your entourage. Would the girl you brought with you happen to be your little sister, Lady Georgina?”

“Ah, I see you’ve made sure to memorize the names of all the guests! Indeed, she insisted on joining me, and no matter what I said, she refused to take no for an answer!” Darnley bellowed in laughter, briefly drawing the attention of the other guests nearby.

“She already seems to be quite the free spirit. I’m sure she has a bright future ahead of her.”

“If you’re so interested in my dear Georgina, I would be more than willing to sit down and discuss a potential marriage between the two of you.”

You swore you saw a flash of disgust appear in Albert’s eyes, but he simply smiled brightly at Darnley, careful that his emotions did not look fake or contrived. “While your offer is certainly generous, I have no plans of marriage at the moment. I’m afraid I’m already plenty busy with my service in the royal army.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Lord Darnley sighed, but his disappointment quickly turned to anticipation when his gaze once again fell on you. Your stomach lurched at the look in his eyes, but you tried to retain your composure, copying Albert’s mannerisms by offering a surface-level smile.

“Lady [Name], I am supposing you are not yet married if you’re attending this function with the Moriartys.”

“That would be correct, my good sir. How astute of you to notice.”

Lord Darnley grinned at the news like a hunter mere moments away from ensnaring this prey. “Well then, my lady, is there anyone that has asked for your hand yet?”

Goosebumps ran down your arms as you swallowed thickly. Anyone with a right mind knew exactly where this conversation was heading.

“I…well…” Should you tell the truth? Should you lie? But then who would you say had expressed a desire in marrying you? “It’s…complicated.”

“So, that would mean no formal question has been posed then, correct?”

“...Correct.”

You heard Albert’s feet shift next to you, on guard for whatever preposterous idea this nobleman could come up with next.

“Well, it’s certainly not good for a lady of your standing to be without a husband. I, myself, am quite the romantic, and I believe a courting period fosters a genuine love between both parties involved. If you have no one currently vying for your hand, perhaps you’d offer me the chance to earn it.”

No. No. On so many levels, no.

But this wasn’t about you—your happiness or married life did not come before the liberation of London. Whatever the brothers asked of you, you would adhere to their words, even if it meant having to be stuck with a man such as…this. Though you knew they’d never even entertain the thought of offering you up to some man who cared only for your beauty and status and nothing for your heart. If you were to refuse Darnley’s advances, at the least, you were confident the Moriartys would respect your decision.

Even so, you didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them. If you couldn’t agree to the idea of marriage, perhaps a date or two would suffice, right?

Just the thought made you feel sick.

“Well, what do you say, my lady? Will you allow me the pleasure of courting you?”

You knew you had to keep up appearances. You couldn’t allow for cracks to show in the perfect and amicable facade the Moriartys had carefully crafted. You knew that well, and yet…

This was a proposal that not even death itself could bring you to accept.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must sincerely refuse.”

Lord Darnley stared at you in alarm. “Come again? You didn’t just say no to my advances, did you?”

Your heart rate quickened as his words grew heated, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to take off and hide somewhere safe and quiet in the manor’s garden, away from other people who might come up with even more ridiculous propositions.

“It’s just as you heard, my lord. I must decline.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Lord Darnley stared straight into your eyes, not blinking for several long moments. Your hands had begun to shake as you feared that you’d just begun tarnishing the reputation of the Moriarty family. Truly, there were fewer things more terrifying than a nobleman who felt he’d been insulted, and the consequences for such an offense would be nothing short of dire.

“Lady [Name], you are in no place to refuse my offer. You said yourself that no other man has even brought up the idea of marriage to you! Are you truly so brazen that you would reject the prospects of a life in union with mine? We all know who makes the decisions around here, and they’re certainly not made by women—!”

“My good sir, I believe you’ve said quite enough.”

A small gasp left your lips as Albert sneaked a hand around your waist, still carefully holding his glass of wine in the other. You searched his face for an answer as to what he was scheming, but he simply smiled—a true one this time—wordlessly reassuring you that all would be well.

“You see, Lady [Name] may not have received an offer of marriage as of yet, but that is only because I have been quite busy protecting our beloved country. I wish to propose when I am able to be at home more often and thus can fulfill my duties as a devoted husband to my wife. So I must politely ask that you rescind your offer, lest you make yourself seem as though you chase after taken women.”

Propose? Husband?

If you were afraid of tainting the Moriarty image, Albert clearly didn’t share your concerns.

“Taken? Why, I—! You’re bluffing, Lord Albert! You’re not planning on marrying this woman!”

“And what has brought you to that incorrect conclusion?”

“If that were the case, you would have brought it up the moment I asked if she were single!”

“To be fair, you asked if she’d received an offer for marriage, not if she was currently available to court.”

You could practically see the steam coming out of Lord Darnley’s ears, his face growing redder with each passing minute. He was still unconvinced, and for good reason, too, but you weren’t about to let Albert’s kindness go to waste.

You placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he redirected his full attention to you. “It’s true, my lord. My affections have been reciprocated by my dear Albert, and I am patiently waiting for him to ask me to marry him. It will be a proposal I shall readily accept.”

Darnley scoffed, a hand placed over his heart in disbelief. “And you had the gall not to tell me when I’d begun to question you? Either you’re a terrible liar, or you’re just hoping to humiliate me in front of all these guests!”

“I would never dream of deceiving or insulting you, my lord. I should have made my relationship status clear to you earlier. Please forgive my carelessness.”

“I still think this is some elaborate hoax the both of you are trying to pull off. If not to tarnish my good name, then to convince every noble here that you’re worth the status bestowed on you at birth.” Lord Darnley swiped a fresh glass of wine off the tray of one of the waiters walking by, the man watching in horror as the lord downed all of the liquid in one gulp. His cheeks had started to take on a flushed hue from the great amount of alcohol he’d consumed that night, and with the way things were going, he was sure to be drunk by the end of it. “Perhaps, Lady [Name],” Darnley continued, a lopsided smirk forming on his face, “you’ve been lying about your social status, and you’re hoping that your marriage to Lord Albert will secure you a place in the upper class.”

Anger surged through you at his utterly ridiculous theory. Darnley had unknowingly gotten one fact right: you were a nobody. When you’d been taken in by the Moriarty family, you had nothing to your name but pen, paper, and the clothes on your back. But you knew one thing for sure: you had worth as a human being, and no one, noble or otherwise, would be able to change that.

And marrying a noble for status? What a laughable suggestion. As if you’d stoop so low just for some so-called “honor” among the elite.

“Well, dear sir,” you began, discreetly hiding a smirk behind your gloved hand, “I had no idea you were so foolish as to even come up with such an inconceivable thought. I once held you in high regard as I’ve heard many within the nobility sing your praises, but your current behavior is quite unbecoming of a person of your stature.”

You heard Albert try, and fail, to stifle a laugh next to you. You quietly breathed out a sigh of relief to see that he’d chosen not to reprimand your strong words. If anything, he seemed eager to encourage them.

As Lord Darnley frantically signaled for a waiter to bring him more wine, Albert took the opportunity to lean down next to your ear, whispering a simple yet heart-pounding question, “[Name], would it be all right with you to play further into these roles of enchanted lovers?”

Your breath caught in your throat, butterflies beginning to form in your stomach. “Of course,” you said. If only you knew how I truly felt, you wouldn’t even need to ask.

He smiled down at you, a sight that only stirred up the butterflies even more, and pulled you closer against him. Meanwhile, his eyes bored into Lord Darnley’s frame, darkening with every passing moment. If there was no one else in that ballroom, you had no doubt Albert would have leapt at the chance to get rid of him.

When Lord Darnley had finished downing another glass of wine, his fiery countenance returned to you and Albert. “You both are frauds,” he spat. “Everyone else here might be too dim-witted to figure it out, but I’ll make them aware that you’re not the upstanding moral characters you believe that you are.”

“It’s a shame to hear such vile thoughts coming from your own mouth, good sir,” Albert sighed. “But if I must be honest, I don’t care what any noble in this room thinks of me or the house in which I rule over.”

“Oh? And why is that, good sir?”

“Because,” Albert answered, turning his body towards yours, his visage noticeably softening when his focus returned to you, “the only person I want to please is the woman I adore. Not one person in the nobility is worthy of praise or merit—no one but her alone.”

Setting aside his glass, Albert gingerly took your hand in his own, meeting your eyes to silently ask for your permission. At your nod of approval, he lifted your fingertips to his lips, placing a gentle and almost reverent kiss against them.

“I love her,” he said, his sweet gaze reaching the very depths of your soul, “and when the time is right, I will make her mine.”

His words were like a match igniting the fire blazing in your heart, the flames fed by your deep affections for him, growing with every beat that thumped in your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand came to rest against your cheek, his touch so light yet so dizzying, more intoxicating than any wine you’d had that night.

Albert searched your eyes as all the feelings you’d tried to keep at bay finally came pouring in like waves. You were sure he could see it all: the admiration, the yearning, the love you’d kept locked away. But somehow he’d managed to find the matching key, the truth you’d been hiding for all these years finally at his reach.

His fingers traveled along your cheek and down to your jaw, this thumb tracing patterns against your skin. You were still dazed from his words to Darnley, but you brought yourself to meet Albert’s gaze once more, curious to see what truths you could uncover in his own expression.

And you wished you hadn’t, because when you saw the affection so clearly present in them, you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until the night turned into day.

Albert wasn’t oblivious, and you knew it. Whatever people thought of him as—a genius, a young prodigy, a man of great knowledge—his ability to read people was beyond the average person’s comprehension. And you knew when he’d finally figured out what the person he’d been surveying was hiding. His lips would quirk upwards ever so slightly, the dimples on his face just beginning to show, and he’d cock his head to the side, pleased with his findings.

And that was exactly how he was looking at you.

You’d placed your heart out in plain view of his observant eyes, and he’d figured you out. But now that he knew of your feelings for him, what was he planning to do with them?

Albert’s thumb drifted from your jaw down your lips, careful not to brush off the lipstick staining them. He stared at them for several moments, deep in thought, before he returned his eyes to yours, a single question hidden within them.

May I?

Already breathless, you squeezed his hand once, closing your eyes as Albert leaned in painstakingly slowly, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation. This was the moment you’d only been able to imagine in dreams, on nights where you sat wordlessly under the stars, silently wishing upon them in vain. They couldn’t grant you your desires. They couldn’t give you everything you ever wanted. You were the only one with the power to seize your opportunity and make your own wish come true.

And as Albert’s lips finally fell on yours, you smiled.

Your greatest wish was being granted right before your very eyes.

His lips tasted faintly of wine, and the subdued scent of his cologne still lingered on his collar. Combined with the warm and comforting touch of his hand cupping your face, your senses were overwhelmed in the most wonderful of ways. It felt as if you’d begun to float, brought into a fairy tale-esque trance where the entire world grew still except for you and Albert.

Time had stalled to allow you this moment of pure, undeniable bliss that not even the corrupt powers of this world could take away from you.

With his lips still on yours, Albert’s hand snaked further around your waist, gently pulling you closer against him. You practically had no room left between the two of you, and so in a moment of boldness, you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest, right above his heart. Even through his suit, you could feel it beating wildly.

It only made you wonder: did he truly mean what he’d said earlier? Did he really harbor such affection for you? Did he really intend…to make you his?

Before you could ponder anymore, Albert finally pulled away, cheeks faintly dusted with rose. He appeared somewhat dazed himself, but he kept his composure, still well aware of where the two of you were at the moment.

But this time when he turned to Darnley, he smirked, practically beaming from head to toe with delight as he spoke. “Well, Lord Darnley, do you believe us now?”

If looks could kill, both of you would have succumbed to that man’s rage.

Darnley’s hands gripped his wine glass so tightly that it shattered onto the floor, the remnants of wine staining his once perfectly polished suit. Other nobles stopped their conversations and turned to him upon hearing the commotion, a few of them even pulling out handkerchiefs.

“Sir, let me get you a new glass,” a waiter spoke, holding his hand out to take the broken one from him. But Lord Darnley was already fuming, and he shoved the waiter to the side, smashing the rest of the wine glass against the floor.

“You will pay for this,” he snarled. Sending you one final glare, he turned on his heel, marching out of the ballroom, hopefully never to be seen again (at least for the night).

“Well,” Albert breathed, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering us anymore.”

“You’re right…Thank you, Albert.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, gaze drifting back to yours. “I’ve done nothing to warrant your gratitude.”

You shook your head. “You have, Albert. You didn’t have to step in and save me from Darnley’s advances, but you did, even though doing so could have tarnished your family name. I’m indebted to you.”

Albert frowned ever so slightly, and you cocked your head to the side, confused. After a few moments, his gaze flickered to the people dancing around the room, his cheeks still tinged a beautiful red. “If you thought I was doing all that just to be a gentleman,” he murmured, “then I don’t know what it would take to make the truth clear to you...”

Well, suddenly you were the one left blushing.

“It’s not that. I…I don’t want to assume anything more, not when you’re such a precious person to me. I’m just scared of ruining what we have between us.”

Albert turned his attention back to you, using the hand that was still on your waist to pull you close to him again. Taking your other hand in his, he lifted it up to his lips, your faces now just mere inches apart.

“And what if I were to say that I do want something more?”

You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

But you still felt the press of his lips against yours, took in the smell of his cologne, and memorized the touch of his fingers running along your cheek. It was not a dream. It was even better.

Albert leaned down next to your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. “If one kiss isn’t enough to convey how much my heart yearns for you, then allow me to kiss you until you’re breathless, and no more words of doubt are left on your tongue.”

Albert smiled as your face grew redder, and with the way he bit his lip, you knew he was struggling not to comment on it.

“For a noble, you sure lack any semblance of shame, Master Albert."

Albert shook his head and chuckled to himself, that mischievous glint having once again returned to his eyes. “Keep teasing me and you’ll find out just how shameless I can be, darling.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Despite your flustered state, you couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing Albert’s hand tighter in yours. “If you want to kiss me so badly, do so in a place that’s actually romantic, will you?”

Taking you by the hand, Albert began to lead you outside of the ballroom and into the rose gardens. “Of course, and I’ll take my time to make sure I kiss you properly.”

You made a mental note to thank William and Louis for letting you tag along to the ball. If all went well, they would end up becoming your own brothers-in-law, after all.

But that could wait until you finally had Albert’s affections all to yourself.

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert moriarty #albert moriarty x reader #kat writes #IT'S FINALLY HERE #Honestly I'm so happy with this one :3

679 notes · View notes

toiletclown · 1 month ago

Text

breathless. (part four.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

word count: 2602.

there's angst but it's resolved with fluff i promise!

summary: you had confessed, finally, but it was a mistake. so you walk and you walk. then you walk right back to spencer, like you always do.

a/n: i was going to take a break but i'm doing fairly well today and should be able to finish the fic tn at work! :D i went to the gym this morning and i'm just in an all around better mood hehe.

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

You just kept walking. Not having your phone meant you had to listen to the sounds of the city while you wandered, and soon enough the sun was dipping behind the buildings. You were barely sure of where you were at, and you really hoped you could find your way back to the office without your phone. God, what have you done? You ruined your friendship with your soulmate. There was no reason to deny yourself that line of thinking – soulmates – because whether he returned your feelings or not, you knew that’s what he was. And your feelings were out in the open now, anyway. He was your soulmate, handcrafted to love you. Your atoms were within centimeters of each other during the Big Bang, and all these millennia later, you had ruined what the universe had so kindly set up for you. All because you word vomited instead of waiting.

The image of Spencer’s tears was burned into your brain. How dejected he had looked. The entire time you had been walking you had refused to dwell, refused to think about it. But you were walking back to reality, to the office, and, most importantly, to him. You had to face your mistake eventually. Hopefully Ian and Anthony wouldn’t mind you taking a week off. You needed it. There would be no HR relationship papers to sign, no meetings with the four of you to discuss your new relationship. There would be no soft launch, no hard launch. No launch at all. Except maybe your heart into a fucking trench.

One-sided soulmates had to be a thing. Because even if Spencer didn’t want you, didn’t see the same things you saw, didn’t believe in soulmates, the truth of the matter was that he was yours. There’s not another person on this godforsaken earth that understands you the way he does. No one else who can see through all your bullshit quite like him. No one else who would answer your call or FaceTime on the first ring every time, or text you back within 30 seconds, religiously. No one to cook for, no one to stay up with till the wee hours watching reruns of fucking Family Guy. You had thrown it all down the drain, your heart with it.

As you walked back in the general direction you believed the office to be in, you finally let your mind wander. You shouldn't have left. You knew that. But you had spilled your heart, and he was crying. Whether those were happy tears, or sad tears, you just couldn’t stand to look at it. You had never made him cry before, from sadness or otherwise.

Spence POV

“I’m sorry, I’m… I’ll go.” And they did. Y/N ripped their hands from Spencer’s, and bolted for the door. They were gone.

They didn't even give him time to react. Spencer realized he had started crying, despite him not giving his body permission, and knew that was the reason they launched out of the hallway.

He heard the door alarm ding, signaling that someone had left. He just hoped it wasn't you.

Spencer willed his feet to move, booking it down the hall after his best friend. But you were gone.

“Where did Y/N go? Did you see?” He asked Kiana, who had been standing in the lobby.

She wrapped him in a hug, and he just let it all out. Sobbing in the middle of his workplace was not a good look, especially at his age, but he couldn’t keep it in. She led them down to an empty meeting room, sitting him down on the couch and hugging him tightly.

“Spencer, what happened?”

He tried to speak, but his throat was tight with sadness and anger, and he could only cry.

“It’s okay, let it out. Take your time, I'm right here. Do you need anything? Excedrin, another Kickstart? Another hug?” Kiana was rubbing his back softly, doing her best to help him without overwhelming him.

Spencer shook his head, still not able to find his words. After a few more moments of tears, he grabbed a tissue from the table next to him and got into it. “Y/N told me they loved me. That they’re in love with me. I started crying, I guess, and when they saw they just… ran. They said they shouldn't have told me while we were at work, but that they couldn’t hold it in anymore. And I swear, Kiana, I was only crying because I was so fucking happy. You know how I feel about them, how in love with them I’ve been for so long. And I no sooner find out they feel the same, and they're gone. I’m kinda freakin’ out, man.” He took a breath, attempting to calm himself down a bit more. “I can't lose them, Kiana. I can't, they're my fucking soulmate, they're all I’ve wanted for so long, and it was ripped out of my hands as soon as I had it. I’m scared, I’m really scared. Terrified. I wasn't crying because I was mad, I was elated. But I didn't even have a chance to change their mind. They’re just… gone.”

The tears started back up, and Kiana hugged him once more. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. They’re not gone, Spencer. They're probably just as overwhelmed as you are, and needed a minute. That’s all. Give Y/N some time to cool off and sort their brain out, okay? Let them process this, and then they’ll be back and you guys can talk. If Y/N has really felt this way just as long as you have, that was probably a really big and scary thing for them. And when you're doing big, scary things, a reaction like tears could be misconstrued. I’m sure everything will be fine once they cool off.”

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Spencer supplied, wiping at his tears with another tissue. “But I really don't know how I’m going to be able to get any actual work done just sitting and waiting for them to get back.” His tears had finally come to an end, and he was working on steadying his breathing so he could stay calm.

Kiana and Spencer sat in silence for a few minutes, Kiana giving him little pep talks here and there and Spencer blowing his nose now and again. When the room felt a little lighter, Spencer was the one to break the silence.

“You know, I was planning on telling them soon. I was trying to figure out how I wanted to do it. They actually took some of the words right out of my mouth. It’s so tiring to come to work everyday and pretend I haven't been dreaming about them, pretend I haven't been missing their cooking and our hang outs. And I know I'm the one who pulled back first, I know I was the one who fucked everything up these past few weeks. I pulled back, I stopped being so touchy, I stopped inviting them over. That was my doing. But I thought I was protecting them. Or myself. I don't know anymore, I guess. I just really want my best friend back, in any capacity. If I ruined everything, so be it, I just need them to be in my life. At the very least as a friend.” He shuffled in his seat, suddenly filled with energy. “Kiana, I love them so much. What if I ruined it all?”

“You didn't, Spencer.” Kiana gripped his shoulders, needing him to hear her words. “Emotions are hard, but you have to feel them to get through them. And so does Y/N. Let them have their time to process, like we’re doing now, and in no time everything will be fixed. You just have to be patient. You’ve waited eight years so far, you can wait another hour or two, right?”

This evoked a laugh from Spencer, which felt nice. He wanted to laugh with Y/N again. “Yeah, yeah I guess I can wait another hour. Two hours is too far though!”

Spencer sat at his desk, phone face down since Y/N didn't take theirs when they left, a post-it note placed precariously over the time on his laptop. He couldn’t linger on how long it had been since they had left. They’d be back, and they would work this out. He just had to be patient.

Luckily, no one had come over to try and talk to him. He guessed that seeing a grown man break down sobbing in public was enough for everyone to realize he needed a bit of space. He got a few Slack messages of people sending him their thoughts, which made him happy. He didn’t respond to any of them. He couldn’t find it in himself to put a happy face on and thank them for their concern, tell them he’s okay. Because in the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay again.

Deep in his own head, after far longer than he realized, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Y/N.

Spencer shot out of his chair and hugged them, the tears coming back even stronger. “Y/N, please don’t leave me like that again. I’m sorry I scared you when I started crying,” he took a breath, still hugging his soulmate harder than was necessary. “And I’m sorry I’m crying now. I need you to know I’m only crying because I’m so fucking happy, I promise. I promise you, Y/N, they’re happy tears. I love you.”

Y/N hadn’t spoken a word, but he could feel them sobbing quietly into his shoulder. It was late enough in the day that most people had left, and he knew the pod was empty save for them. He cradled their head with his right hand, his left hand rubbing circles into the small of their back. “I love you, Peach, you know I love you. More than you think, more than you know, more than you love me. I’ve loved you every day for eight years, and I will love you until the light leaves my fucking eyes. Even after that. I’m so sorry I scared you off, I love you, my peach, I love you.”

Y/N broke the hug, a bubble of laughter erupting from them. “I guess it’s your turn to word vomit, huh?” As they both wiped at their eyes, Y/N laughed again. “Oh, I’m sorry. I snotted on your jacket. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“I’ll forgive you for anything, Y/N.”

“Can you forgive me for dropping that bomb on you and immediately running away?”

“Only if you promise me that you meant it.”

“Of course I meant it, Spinner.” You pulled out a nickname, one you hadn’t used for months, knowing that would calm him a bit. “I love you, with every fiber of my stupid being. And I’m sorry I left you like that. I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky.”

You did your secret pinky swear handshake, where once the pinkies are wrapped, the person making the promise places a kiss on the other person’s hand. “I love you, Peach.”

“I love you, Spence. Always will.”

Reader POV

After such a painful yet wonderful day, you were ready for a calm night. You wanted to see Spencer, of course, but you knew you both needed some time apart to think about how this was all going to play out. Are you going to tell the fans? Are you going to change how you interact on camera? If you don’t tell the fans, would he be down to give them hints in videos or on Instagram stories? How long did you guys have to wait to move in together? You weren’t even technically dating yet, you had only professed your love for one another.

You should probably slow down. This was all still new, anyway. You both had forever to figure it out, luckily.

You fiddled with your keys till you got your apartment door open, ready to draw a nice, hot bath and destress in the tub. You dropped your bag off on your couch and headed to your bathroom.

God, you looked like shit. Your eyes were red from all the tears and emotions, you had a raging migraine, your dark circles were the worst you’d ever seen them. You set about washing your face, started the bath, and lit your favorite candles. You turned the lights off, turned your playlist on, and undressed.

You sunk into the heat, your muscles letting the tension seep slowly out of them, and reflected on today’s events.

You were extremely happy to have worked everything out in one day. You were aware of how lucky you and Spencer were. Friends to lovers has its perks, you guess. You were so scared that you would have to be without him for much, much longer. Any time away from him was excruciating, though you’d never let him know that. He’d bully you endlessly if he knew how attached you were. Though you supposed he felt the same way, since he loved you just as much as you loved him.

What a fucking day. You hummed along to the end of a Daft Punk song, sinking deeper into the water. Breathless came on next. Entirely unconsciously, you shot up. You splashed some water on the floor in the process, but your heart was going a mile a minute.

“Ugh,” you groaned to your empty bathroom, “Leave me breathless indeed.”

Willing your heart to slow to a normal pace, you decided your bath was over. You just wanted to lay down and decompress. As you were toweling off, you heard a knock at the door.

It wasn’t so late that a visitor would be a problem, but you also had way too fucking busy of a day to hang out with anyone right now. You stood still, silent, hoping they’d just leave you be. You can catch up with whoever it is once your brain and heart are done reeling from the nonsense of your day.

You waited a couple more seconds, silence falling across your apartment. You let out a breath, and then it caught in your throat when you heard the doorknob. You raced to put a shirt and shorts on, not caring about your looks considering someone was trying to break into your home.

You ran to grab a makeshift weapon from the hall when your door swung open. You nearly screamed, but it was Spencer. You had forgotten he had a key.

“Whoa, Y/N. You okay?” Spencer ran to you, clearly catching that you were freaking out a bit.

“I should beat you, Charles Spencer Agnew, how dare you not warn me!”

Spencer threw his hands up in mock surrender, backing away a little. “In all fairness, I texted you. You didn’t respond but I saw on Find My Friends that you were home and I just got worried, I guess.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, sheepish. “I know that today was… a lot. And I know you tend to isolate yourself when you experience big things. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared I was going to lose you twice in one day, you know?”

You closed the distance between you and your best friend, wrapping him in a hug. He hugged back, tight. “You’ll never lose me, Spence. Ever. Not even if you want to.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

taglist: @lokidokieokie @chaoticlizzzzzz @babble28 @starstriker027 @langaslefthairstrand @vc55bughead @kneelforloki @cosmichahn

#spencer agnew x reader #richie writes #spencer agnew #smosh x reader

110 notes · View notes

persianflaw · 5 months ago

Text

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! The M*A*S*H fanfiction community has been approved! actually it was approved two weeks ago but i was on vacation

This community is open to any and all fans of M*A*S*H fic. Whether you're a writer, a reader, or a total newbie, this space is for you! You can talk about fics you've loved, ask for advice about a sticky plot point in your latest WIP, ask for recommendations for a ship you like, share an AO3 link to your latest fic, or share snippets from your work; the world is your oyster!

>> LINK <<

(As of 6.21.2024, communities don't let you generate an invite link yet, so just like/reply to this post if you want an invitation! This post will be updated with a proper invitation link once that feature is implemented.)

RULES (May be subject to change, but probably not that much change, lol.)

Be nice. Duh. Any bigotry or unkind behavior will not be tolerated. Welcome everyone with open arms and open hearts, and be ready to make new connections.

18+ only. Go nuts. Show nuts. Whatever.

No gory or sexually explicit images. Most of these go against tumblr's TOS, and we don't want the community to get deleted.

Keep things on topic. We're joining this community to talk about fic, so let's make sure we keep our posts fic-related! General discussions about M*A*S*H are fun, but not what this community is intended for.

If you don't like something, scroll past. We all like different things, and that's what makes the world interesting. If someone shares a fic that isn't to your tastes, you don't have to read it. Leaving a rude comment on anybody's post will get you kicked. (If you're concerned that somebody is posting bigoted or hateful material, let me know, but I honestly don't anticipate this being an issue at this time.)

Use read mores for long posts or NSFW material. This makes navigating the dash easier, and helps prevent people from getting jumpscared by lovingly detailed descriptions of oral sex on the subway, something that has of course never happened to me.

Tagging or using content notes for your writing is encouraged. This is the best way to find your audience. People who aren't interested in a particular subject can skip over, and you'll also be able to draw in the people who are enthusiastically interested! If you think a particular topic might be especially sensitive, a read more is never a bad idea.

Only give concrit (constructive criticism) when asked. This is a somewhat contentious topic in fandom as a whole, so we're keeping it simple and asking that members don't give criticism on fic posts unless the author specifically requests it.

And one final note:

Small groups and communities can easily become cliquish. Few things feel worse than joining a group, hoping to find like-minded people, only to find yourself surrounded by what feels like an impenetrable friend group with no interest in talking to you. Nobody wants to feel alone in a crowd.

So when you join this group, don't just talk to people you already know. That defeats the point of joining this kind of community, anyway! Make an effort to talk to someone new. Leave a gushing comment about a stranger's fic excerpt. Tag someone who you think has a really cool interpretation of a character you like. Reply to a post that hasn't gotten any attention. Include people who seem a little shy. Be open and friendly and welcoming.

#text post #mash #m*a*s*h #m*a*s*h 4077 #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mash fandom #community #tumblr community #fanfiction community #hawkeye pierce #trapper mcintyre #margaret houlihan #bj hunnicutt #promo post #GOOD GRIEF. OKAY. think i got everything down.

166 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Note

I’m dying for an AYW fic regarding the proposal and or wedding!!

A proposal you say?

@munson-blurbs and I are very proud to present to you the proposal of these two love birds. And how else would Eddie do it but with music? We hope you enjoy 💜

Words: 2.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie had hoped that this would be the most perfect day you’d ever had in your life. Well, it was off to a shit start. Both you and Eddie were supposed to be attending a Billy Joel concert that night; something that you’ve been over the moon excited about for months now. Eddie was also excited, but it was for different reasons than seeing We Didn’t Start the Fire being performed live. He had come up with an elaborate plan to take you to dinner, the concert, and then just as it seemed as if the excitement of the evening had come to an end, he was going to propose.

Unfortunately, Lucas had put the kibosh on that when he phoned and told Eddie that the outdoor venue where the concert was being held said the show was a no-go due to inclement weather. Lucas works AV at the venue so was able to get the word out to you before the general ticket holders were notified. Eddie hated seeing the disappointed look on your face. He tried to comfort you, giving you sweet kisses and wrapping you up in his arms, all the while trying to figure out how he could salvage this proposal. The makeup date for the concert would likely be many months out and Eddie was damned if he was going to wait that long to ask you to marry him.

It had been a plan for you to go out with Nancy early afternoon to get your nails done together. “So they look good at the concert!” Nancy had said to you. “So when we take pictures of her ringed finger and when people keep wanting to look at her hand, she won’t be irked that her nails don’t look nice,” is the real reasoning Eddie gave to your friend. When you debate on whether or not you should even go out with Nancy still, Eddie urges you to.

“It’ll still be nice to have a girls’ day with Nancy,” he told you. “Go out, have fun. Get pampered.” So I can figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.

As soon as Eddie watches your car pull away from his spot at the apartment window, he’s pacing the living room and running his hands over his hair.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Oooh,” Luke says as he comes down the hall. “Another quarter in the swear jar!”

Eddie turns to his youngest son and realizes he can use the boys to his advantage here. What would be needed to make a romantic evening here at home? Candles? There were plenty in the hall closet. Rose petals? Yes, they had been purchased for your anniversary last year. Eddie had his guitar; he could stage a mini concert for you. Yes, he could pull this off. He would need help from his mini-me’s for that, though.

“Alright, boys,” Eddie says, loud enough that Ryan peeks out of his room to see what his dad wants. “I’m gonna need your help with something big.”

“A monster truck?” Luke asks. Ryan rolls his eyes at his little brother as he comes to join them in the living room.

“Uh, no,” Eddie says. “Guys…I’m proposing.”

“Like, you’re finally gonna ask her to marry you?” Ryan asks, a sparkle gleaming in his eye at the question.

“Yep,” Eddie confirms. “Or, I was, but now the concert is canceled—wait, what do you mean ‘finally’?”

Ryan shrugs. “You asked us a million years ago if we’d be okay with you and her getting married.”

“Hold on,” Luke pipes up, putting his palms out to pause the discussion. “They’re not married?”

“Christ on a cracker.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and gives it a tiny massage. He’s so frazzled he can’t even tell if Luke is just trying to mess with him right now or not. “No, we’re not married. But I’d like to marry her, and I was hoping you two could help me decorate so this can still be special.”

With that, Eddie and the boys get to work to transform the apartment into a romantic oasis before you get home from your nail appointment. Thank God for Nancy Harrington.

Eddie strategically places candles throughout the bedroom, giving Luke strict orders not to light them. At this rate, the kid shouldn’t be allowed near an open flame until he’s forty. Instead, Eddie puts his sons in charge of sprinkling a trail of rose petals from the front door to the room. Ryan’s mastered the art of “sprinkling,” but Luke’s contribution looks more like small piles.

Oh, well. It’s the thought that counts.

It’s Ryan’s idea to make paper hearts and Scotch tape them around the apartment; ever his shadow, Luke joins him.

Eddie has his acoustic guitar laying on the bed, tuned and ready to go. He puts the ring box in his pants pocket and rechecks it approximately every thirty seconds to make sure it’s still there, as though it could slip through the fabric and into an alternate dimension.

He rushes to the door when he hears the buzzer ring, tucking his shirt into his pants, not sure if that’s how he wants it or not. When Wayne’s voice comes over the intercom, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Boys! Grandpa Wayne is here!” he calls out, grinning when he hears their thunderous footsteps.

“Daddy,” Luke says, holding out a fun size piece of candy, “give this to her. Girls like chocolate. It’s romantic.”

Eddie tries not to chuckle as he inspects the melted Twix bar. “I’m sure she’ll love it. And I’ll make sure she knows it’s from you.” Like it could be from anyone else, he thinks amusedly. He tucks it safely into his pocket as he heads over to open the front door.

As soon as Wayne steps foot into the apartment, he’s bombarded by two excited children.

“Grandpa, Grandpa!” Ryan chants as Luke clings to the older man’s side.

“What is it, pal?” Wayne asks.

“Daddy’s gonna propose!”

Wayne was already aware of this fact, and that he was taking the boys for the night for this very reason, but he acts surprised for his grandkids’ sake.

“Wow! That’s real excitin’, isn’t it?” Wayne asks.

“Yes!” Luke replies.

Eddie’s uncle chuckles and ruffles both boys’ hair before taking a step closer to the soon-to-be-engaged man. “I’m real happy for ya, kid. She’s a good one.”

“Thanks, Wayne.” He claps a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The front doorknob jiggles and all four Munson men turn towards it in complete synchronicity. Eddie quickly presses a kiss to each of his sons’ heads and whispers for them to behave tonight before he ducks into the master bedroom.

Just in time, as you step through the door not a second later. Your eyes land on the trio in front of you and you give them a smile.

“Hey, Wayne! How’re you?”

“I get to spend time with my favorite guys,” Wayne says, resting a hand on each boys’ shoulder, “so no complaints here.”

“We’re staying at Grandpa’s so Daddy can—” Luke starts, but is quickly hushed by Wayne leading him quickly towards the front door.

“Okay, time to go! C’mon you little knuckleheads. See ya later, hun.”

“Bye Wayne. Bye boys! Love you!”

There are muffled calls of “bye” and “love you too” but it sounds like Wayne is speed walking them out of there. You chuckle to yourself and drop your bag down on the counter. No sign of your boyfriend in the living room or kitchen. Brow pinching together in confusion, you sigh and rest your hands on your hips.

“Eds? The boys left; you can stop hiding now,” you tease, frowning when you still don’t see him. “Eddie?”

“‘M in here, babe,” he calls from the bedroom. There’s a waver in his voice and it has you moving even faster towards him.

He’s sitting on the end of your shared bed in black jeans and a maroon button-down shirt, untucked. His acoustic guitar rests on his lap as he strums idly. You barely have time to take in candles and hurricane of rose petals before he says, “Figured I’d bring the concert to us.”

The opening chords of Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are” reach your ears and it instantly has you getting choked up. Hot tears press at the back of your eyes as you remember dancing in the kitchen to this with Eddie before Ryan’s birthday party all those years ago.

Under your breath, you begin to sing along. It is a concert after all, but you want to keep your voice low enough that all you can hear is still Eddie’s. You lean back against your dresser behind you, looking deep into Eddie’s eyes as he serenades you. There don’t have to be words spoken, you know he understands what you’re saying with just your eyes. I promise I will always love you just as you are.

The next song in your personal concert is “You May Be Right.” Eddie gets into it, head rocking as he sings out the lyrics, even inflecting his voice on the word “lunatic.” It’s silly and sweet and everything you love about Eddie personified in this moment between the two of you.

“She’s Always a Woman” is the next song on the set list. This one has the tears that were behind your eyes now making their way forward. The moisture gathers at your lash line as you watch your boyfriend with absolute adoration. Once the song is finished, Eddie gives you a wink.

“Last song and then I’m gonna kiss you, I promise.”

Uptown girl

She’s been livin’ in her uptown world

I bet she never had a backstreet guy

I better her mama never told her why

You had no doubt that Eddie would finish with this song. Your song. How it started from teasing and joking to now being the song that makes the two of you look at each other as if there’s nobody else in the world for those few minutes.

Once he finishes the song, Eddie gently sets the guitar down and you rush into his arms. Your tears drip onto the maroon polyester of his shirt as you bury your face in his shoulder. Eddie rubs his hand softly up and down your back and presses a kiss to the top of your head. With a small sniffle, you look up at Eddie with wide, watery eyes.

“This is the sweetest thing ever, Eddie. I can’t believe you did this for me. I’ve been so bummed all day that the concert’s been postponed and I—”

The rest of the sentence gets silenced as Eddie presses his lips against yours. It’s partly because he wants to stop your rambling—and he wants to kiss you all the time in general—but also because the nerves are getting the better of him as every second ticks by. He has to ask you or he’s going to combust on the spot.

With one large hand cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist, Eddie slowly and subtly moves further away from the bed, so he’ll be able to get down on one knee when the time comes

“I’d do anything for you, my love. You know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Eddie tries to recall the speech he had prepared in his mind, only to have nervous sweat begin to break out along his hairline. It only takes a few moments before you notice, because you always notice what’s going on with Eddie. The concerned look that mars your features suddenly has all of the tension releasing from Eddie’s body. The nerves are gone without a trace, replaced by warmth and love for the beautiful, amazing woman standing in front of him. How could he have been nervous about this to begin with? It’s you. You are the love of his life and, though he still can’t comprehend why or how, he’s the love of your life, too.

“Uptown Girl has kind of followed us on our journey, hasn’t it? From you playing your Billy Joel tapes when you were babysitting the boys and I’d come home and pretend to be all annoyed by it. But then one time I remember really listening to the lyrics and having this epiphany. You’re uptown girl, I’m the downtown man. Uptown Girl, you know I can’t afford to buy her pearls. But maybe someday when my ship comes in she’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been and then I’ll win. I’ve always wanted to give you the world. I always wanted you to see me, silently dying for your attention on the inside. Because when you walked through the front door that first day…baby, you’ve never for a moment left my mind since then. I went from thinking you were this unattainable fantasy that I would have to be content with to admire at a distance to…this. The life we’ve built, the love we’ve shared. Princess, I wanted to give you everything but instead you gave that to me. I have everything I could ever want or need when you’re here in my arms. I still can’t believe how unbelievably lucky I am to call you mine. Every day I wake up and thank God when I see you laying next to me, all huddled up in the blankets. It feels right. More so than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve always told you that you’re my forever, baby. And I meant it.”

Slowly, Eddie lowers himself to one knee and the realization of what’s happening hits you with a sharp gasp. Is this really happening? you think. Or am I dreaming again? The beads of water that had been quelled for the most part start flowing again, leaving tracks down your cheeks. Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box. He takes one more deep breath before lifting the lid and revealing a shining silver ring with a princess cut diamond sitting atop it. Because he calls me princess, you realize.

“My love. My princess, my angel, my sweet, sweet girl. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Stunned isn’t a look Eddie has ever seen on you before. It feels like an eternity that you just stare at him, saying nothing. In reality, it’s probably less than ten seconds, but Eddie’s mind is currently working in slow motion. Finally, you nod your head and time is back to normal in Eddie’s world. The teary laugh you give him as you keep nodding has a smile forming on his face that he’s sure will be there for a while.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Eddie.”

At hearing the words come from your mouth, his smile grows into a grin that’s enough to light up an electric grid. He plucks the ring from its satin cushion in the box and slowly slides it up your finger. As he stands, he’s expecting you to admire the ring, inspect it and be giddy about the jewelry. But the moment he’s steady on his feet, you’re grabbing Eddie’s face between your hands and planting a fierce kiss on his lips.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you mumble against his mouth before pressing another kiss after kiss there.

“Can't believe you want to be my wife,” Eddie says in amazement as you finally part.

“I’ve wanted that from the moment I laid eyes on you. I never knew my schoolgirl crush would become my husband.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you again, smiling against your lips. “I’m so fucking happy that you’re gonna be my wife.” He pulls your body close against his and buries his face in your hair.

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“Is there something in your pocket?”

“Huh?” He digs into the denim to pull out a half-melted Twix bar. “Oh, right. A gift from your future stepsons.”

At the word “stepsons,” an entirely different wave of emotions crashes over you. A different kind of love envelops your body and it might just be the warmest and fuzziest feeling you’ve ever felt.

“Holy shit. I’m going to be their stepmother.”

Eddie isn’t sure if you're happy or scared about it by your tone, but then you well up with tears again and a grin rivaling his own lights up your face.

“I’m gonna be their stepmom!”

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“They are so lucky to have you. We all are. Now, uh,” the tips of his ears turn pink, and he clears his throat, “you mentioned a schoolgirl crush?” One hand snakes around your waist and lowers to grab your ass. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

“Whatever you say, fiancé.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #AYW #AYWS #request

541 notes · View notes

roseaesynstylae · 6 months ago

Text

My Favorites of Jedi Appreciation

So, I've been thinking about Jedi positivity a lot lately. So, I decided to make a masterpost. Someone's definitely done this before and better, but I feel like I should throw my hat in the ring.

(There's also A Collection of Posts about the Jedi Order, Part One and Part Two.)

Fics

These fics might not be completely focused on the Jedi Order but they are portrayed positively, or they expand on their culture. Either way, I love them.

Knightrise by deviantaccumulation: In which a new Jedi Order is founded on Mandalore after Order 66.

not the place i was born in (doesn't mean it's not the place where I belong) by ghostwriterofthemachine: Jedi worldbuilding and Young Anakin and Obi-Wan being sweet.

How a Handful of Droid Poppers Save the Galaxy by Zarz: In which Appo is the hero the galaxy needs and Anakin meets consequences.

Yeet or be Yeeted by virdant: In which the Jedi tendency to jump off tall places becomes a competitive sport.

THE FORCE WILLS DOCUMENTARY by js71: Told as a documentary about the Jedi Order, there's a lot of worldbuilding and other things that make my heart happy.

Pragmatics of the Jedi by aroacejoot, ghostwriterofthemachine, loosingletters: A series that created a language for the Jedi, Dai Bendu, which is absolutely fascinating.

On Meditation by virdant: A short fic about meditation. It makes me happy.

Interviews by BloodyDevil: Interviews with members of the Jedi Order.

In which we burn bodies as bridges by GraceEliz: Jedi mourning in a bittersweet fic.

Anakin Skywalker's Guide to Jedi Traditions by loosingletters: A young Anakin's journal about his new life in the Jedi Order.

The Droid Wars by Crystalshard: R2 learns about the future and drags 3PO along with him to stop it.

Why We Did Nothing by BairnSidhe: Do you like the Mandalorians as well as the Jedi? In which the Mandalorians learn about the Jedi Order's perspective on things and Jaster gets rightfully mad. Warning: It has dark themes (among them, discussions of the murder of children, generational trauma, and Montross-related fuckery).

spilled red wine by scrapheap_redux: I was debating whether or not to add this one, but I really liked the portrayal of the Jedi when they show up. However, it has the aftermath and results of rape (not onscreen) as the inciting incident, which is why I was wondering if I should add it; I want this list to be enjoyable and I don't want to upset anyone.

Unsolicited PR From A Pirate by Everything_or_Anything, lastbattlecry, RogueLadyVader (LaylaYuy), TessaDoesThings, wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67): Hondo is a menace. Also, action figures.

Stolen Choices by softmoonlight: Cal, Fox, and the possibility of a happy ending.

free to find my calling by Papook: Jocasta Nu gets a squad of clones.

Always in Motion by virdant: I never knew I needed a Chewbacca time-travel fic so much.

remember me, fondly by ace_din_djarin: Crafts, Jedi, and bittersweetness.

The Bust Busting by virdant: Yoda is a troll. Dooku is done.

Proper Attire by LacieFuyu: Why Jedi don't wear armor.

Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean: Ahsoka is Mace's Padawan.

Lessons of Peace by virdant: Cody embracing Jedi culture and making dumplings.

Memories of Peace by Margan: Obi-Wan teaches the clones to make dumplings.

Home-onym by virdant: Wordplay and Jedi younglings.

In the Shadows (of Taxes) by virdant: Quinlan Vos specializes in tax law. If that one sentence doesn't make your heart jump a little, I weep for you.

hi, i'm with public relations by lastbattlecry: The Jedi need better PR. Bail Organa knows somebody.

In Which Boba Fett Becomes the Jedi Order's Feral Tooka by Zarz: The title explains the beautiful, beautiful plot.

May the Force be Taxed by ReconstructWriter: Palpatine and the IRS do not respect Jedi culture.

aphelion by Kemmasandi: Plo Koon dies, wakes up decades prior, and fixes things.

Protect That Which You Love by certifiedspacewitch: Mace takes one look at the weird old man asking for private access to a young Padawan and gets his hackles up.

jedi shaming by braigwen_s, evaceratops: Short but hilarious.

The Chess Match Begins by SilverWingedWolf: The relationships between Jedi and clones.

Five Jedi Who Signed the Wall on Mapuzo, and Two that Honored Them by TheSecondBatgirl: The title explains the premise in the best way.

You're Not Flawed Darling (You're just a Little Under Rehearsed) by CombatBootsandDreams: To quote the tags, the Jedi diplomatic corps is intense.

A Little Piece of Home by Maeve_of_Winter: Anakin discovers a new form of moving meditation but worries Obi-Wan won't approve. Quinlan does his best to encourage Anakin to tell him anyway.

shining like a lighthouse from the sky by loosingletters: Rumor has it, if you clean up one of the droids in the temple the day before your Gathering, Anakin Skywalker himself will take you to Ilum. Or: Anakin loses his lightsabers and is absolutely popular with teeny tiny Initiates.

the heart of kyber by outpastthemoat: Stories about lightsabers, masters, and apprentices.

吃飽了嗎? | Have you eaten your fill? by virdant: A collection of fics about food and how food is an articulation of love.

I'm Counting On You by Rivulet07: Not all initiates become Jedi, Mace helps Chirrut find his place.

Being a Jedi by wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67): Scenes, musings and drabbles for Jedi June fan event.

Jedi Parables by Peppermint_Shamrock: Values are often passed down generation to generation through stories, parables, and fables. What stories might the Jedi teach their children?

Five Meditations of Jedi Depa Billaba by skatzaa: What is says on the tin. (Plus one more, for good measure.)

Jedi Culture and Teachings in Canon by gffa: Not a fanfic, exactly, but it's a collection of everything textually said in Disney canon about or by the Jedi Order.

Emotion is our Shared Tongue by virdant: A series of one-shots and fics that explore Jedi language and communication with the Force.

Saber-Assigned Soulmates by inimitability: A slight mishap in the mess hall leads to Obi-Wan giving some very interested troopers a crash courses in lightsabers. Specifically, why some people can pick them up but others can't. Even more specifically, what Jedi erotica holonovels did or didn't get right regarding lightsabers and soulmates.

Shereshoy by SailorSol: This was not how Mace wanted to start his day. Contrary to popular belief, Mace Windu did not actually enjoy being a hardass. But as head of the Order, it was a carefully crafted persona he did his best to maintain anywhere outside of private quarters and behind closed Council doors.

permission to speak by qigiined: Mace is trying his damnedest to file the Temple's taxes among other daily tasks. Plo and the rest of the Jedi Council help and hinder him.

Misadventures of Jedi Generals by Cuthalion97: The tags "Overall insanity" and "Jedi and Clones wreaking havoc on the galaxy at large" sum it up.

Ephemeral Extracts from the Archives by Oriki-Miitad (Sneaking_UnicornWitch): “Good Morning, Coruscant Temple Archives, this is Mira speaking, how can I help you today?” ** Jedi Knight Mira staffs the front desk of the Coruscant Temple Archives.Here are 5 of her interactions with users.

Your Solleu.gal order of 3 000 000 items by Oriki-Miitad (Sneaking_UnicornWitch): The Jedi high council has received some very strange comm messages over the thousands of years that it has existed. Here's a few.

Memo: Jedi Maintenance (The Care and Feeding of Your Jetii) by RainofLittleFishes: The Care and Maintenance of Your Jedi: A Clone Trooper's Guide.

Jedi June 2020

Jedi June 2021

Jedi June 2022

Jedi June 2023

Blogs

There are only so many times I can say "I love this so much, it makes me happy, please know you have filled my head with knowledge and my heart with joy" before it gets repetitive.

gffa: FILLED WITH WONDERFUL THINGS. I would marry this blog if I could. (I'm joking...mostly.)

projediagenda: All kinds of thought-provoking stuff that makes me happy.

ensomniaa: As they put it, nothing but love for the Jedi.

the-jedi-love: Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

bbygirl-obi: Pro-Jedi all the way.

smhalltheurlsaretaken: So much loveliness.

#star wars #pro jedi #jedi positivity #jedi appreciation #jedi culture #would you believe that this came from reading repcomm and needing an antidote to anti-jedi bullshit?#i will probably be updating this #i love the jedi order so much

179 notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 10 months ago

Text

01/20/2024 Crew Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins Message on IG; How you can help; Contacting Netflix, Prime, AppleTV; General Guidelines for Wooing Networks; New Hashtags; UK Crew Updates; Petition/Fundraiser Status; Articles; Extras; Rhys' Stiddy

=== Chaos Dad's Message ===

David Jenkins messaged us FRIENDS and gave us a new heading to steer the ship for the crew. Truly an amazing and sweet message, and helping give @renewasacrew a good place to start on new networks.

== How you can help ==

So based on Chaos Dad's tweet, what the folks over at @renewasacrew have recommended is we focus our efforts on Netflix, AmazonStudios, and Apple TV. We'll be polite menacing but also doing some more specific wooing this time so please see below for more information.

= Reach out to Netflix =

You can reach out to Netflix Here.

= Reach out to Apple TV =

You can reach out to apple tv by going here.

= Amazon Prime: Thank you @mermaid-stede for this write up: =

1) if you have an Amazon account, go to My Stuff > Settings > Help & Feedback > Provide Feedback

2) If you don't, write here

3) might as well try their customer service 888 280-4331, using the same strategy from above (though you might need an Amazon account)

4) and here's an email! [email protected]

Amazon.com: AIV Website Feedback Form

DIGPRJSURVEY.AMAZON.COM

You can see more of their write ups here

=New Hashtags=

#AdoptOurCrew #RenewAsACrew #SaveOFMD

Things to remember:

Only Message 1 of the 3 networks at once. We are wooing them, they want to be enticed, not included in a crowd. If you are reaching out to one, make sure to reach out to all three (just separately)

Be Polite, this is a bit of a different strategy from max, we WANT these people to pick us up, we're not grumpy at them.

Yes you can use season 3 and beyond, use the same terminology David Jenkins did.

More specific info from folks regarding the things to remember:

=== UK Crew ===

Great job everyone! Your efforts made a difference! Thanks for the update @lamentus1!

Something else to mention for our UK and International Friends that are reaching out via social networks or email/phone:

=Daily Engagement Reminder!=

Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page

Google Search for Our Flag Means Death

Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death

Our Flag Means Death IMDB

=== Petition / Fundraiser Status ===

Petition: ALMOST at 75K!

Renew as a Crew - Benefiting Rainbow Youth is fully funded at $17K!

OFFP Care for Gaza - HITS $10K!!!! Great job all!

=== New Articles ===

Fans Declare War Against Warner Bros., Light Up Times Square for Beloved Show

Our Flag Means Death’s Renewal Campaign Lands Times Square Billboard

=== Other Stuff ===

Some BTS from Vico's IG reels

=Wanna help out our fellow cancelees?=

Sign the Petition for Rap Sh!t!

-------------------------------------------------------------

So Dad's message kind of blew everything else out of the water today, there were some sightings of various crew on the web but most of them were reactions to David's reel so I figured it probably wasn't worth adding today. Thank you as usual to the @renewasacrew team, and @TheCozyPirate for all their steering and insight and helping make these pivots possible each day!

-------------------------------------------------------------

Side note: I saw a lot of really great stuff today-- people focused more on action with the renewal and starting to discuss fun things more and more, less dealing with trolls. I hope that means you all are getting some rest and avoiding some of the crazy shit going on.

Seriously, you're doing amazing. David sees it, the cast sees it, the crew sees it, we all see it. You should all feel super proud of yourself for all the hard work you're doing, whether it's just enjoying the show, being active in the renewal efforts, or just being you.

Please continue to make art, and fics, and goofy memes, and silly videos, and everything. Your creativity is so inspiring and fun and it keeps us all sane! (Also please share them with me I love them.)

On that note, here's Rhys grabbing one of those Stiddies.

Gif courtesy of ofmd-ann's post here

356 notes · View notes

yujateaandpi · 1 month ago

Note

Hihi!! Just wanted to say off the bat that I just LOVE your art and the 30 more years au, it's one of the first I was exposed to on tt because I'm a new fan, anyway here's my questions (Sorry that I'm probably gonna say/ask a lot 😅)

Mabel is in shock for now, right? So will she eventually come to accept Dipper/"That person" being Dipper? And if so, would she see him more as an older brother instead of her twin? As in like, coming to accept him, but unable to have the exact "twin bond?" Because while the energy may be there, I'd assume that there could've been a bit of disconnect whether from life or whatever else happened (Like Mabel doing adventuring with a continuous "kid body and mindset," then Dipper with school)

Will Ford eventually visit Stan with Dipper and/or Mabel? Or with just anyone else? Or go on his own to visit his brother?

Is Fiddleford going to be involved in the Au in any way/important way?

Also this may be an invasive question (as in revealing lore or something I'm not quite sure how to phrase it) but will/is Stan resentful towards Ford in any way? Or is he just in the state of reminiscence or desperation for his brother-

It was also insinuated he may flip out if he saw him again by Dipper but is it just from the generally traumatic events like the initial portal one and then the same happening to Mabel? Or would it be from a mental condition that appeared over time? (We need more really old man Stan but dude I don't want him to go insane 😔😔😔)

Okay thats it, take things at your own pace and keep creating :DD it's such a cool take and all and your art is just really good, like I initially said. But yeah that's it dnfnfnnf

Whoa thank you for all the lovely questions!

Mabel is definitely in shock now, yes. That will get processed eventually. A lot of this story will actually be about her and Dipper trying to figure out that second part--are they still twins or older and younger siblings or if he even became more of an uncle than a brother? All I can say for now is: they've both got a lot of growing up to do.

Yup, actually Chapter 3 is all about Stan. The Reunion is a big chunk of that.

Fiddleford does play a big role, but a lot of it is resolved in the prequel fic. In the timeline of the comic, he's playing his banjo with the angels.

Stan's internal processing is a big part of Chapter 3 and some of it will also be discussed in the prequel! Sorry, spoilers for now. :)

Haha thank you, I'll keep trundling! Thank you for reading.

#yujateaasks #thirtymoreyearsau #gravity falls

76 notes · View notes

demigod-shenanigans · 9 days ago

Text

The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing.

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again.

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning.

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual.

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world.

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn.

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling.

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew.

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked.

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant.

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think.

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner.

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea.

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation.

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor.

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn’t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried.

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack.

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?”

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this.

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now.

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with.

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again.

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

61 notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 1 year ago

Text

With You part 10

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Married, back in London, Jake comes crashing back into your life

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is married to the system.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/notables: A n g s t, complicated relationship stuff, cursing. Alcoholism, violence, injury, blood. Lmk if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

Leaning down, he brushed his lips over your cheek in a tender kiss... the softness of you electrifying him utterly.

"I'll never let him near you," he vowed, his fingers reaching up to trace his lips where your skin had touched. "And I'll never let him take Marc away from you."

“Read to me, husband," you purred into Steven's ear, curling close to his side.

His eyes cut over to you and he grinned, reaching to lace his fingers with yours. You sighed, your heart overflowing as your fingertip traced over the gold band he now wore.

"Long flight, darling. You sure you don't want to rest a bit?" He suggested, gazing at you adoringly.

"Maybe I will if you read to me," you teased, pulling your intertwined fingers to your mouth, your lips grazing his ring.

You may have been on an airplane, but it still felt like your own little world.

After a few chapters about ancient Egypt, and a long nap, you awakened to your husband watching an 80's action film on the screen on the back of the chair in front of him.

Marc.

Latching on to his arm, your fingers found his again, just to toy with his wedding band.

"Hey, baby," he softly greeted, kissing your temple. "Steven bore you to death reading about the pyramids?"

"Absolutely not," you playfully defended, "I just find the sound of his voice soothing."

"You know what's soothing?" He pointed to his screen with a grin. "RoboCop."

You groaned. "How much longer till we land?"

"We're not even halfway," Marc replied, glancing at his watch.

"Maybe RoboCop will put me back to sleep."

Your honeymoon was magical.

All your hard work, saving and planning paid off, and you and your husband had the time of your lives. Sun-drenched days, passion-filled nights, nothing but relaxation in paradise. Playing games with Marc, reading with Steven, delicious food (and a delicious husband).

It was just the refreshing reset you needed to kick off married life.

Truthfully, you wondered about Jake - you missed him, and the tiniest part of you hoped nothing would interfere with your little bubble of temporary heaven.

Everything seemed fine - you made it back to London refreshed and ready to proudly sport your wedding band everywhere you went. You didn't care if it seemed a little old fashioned. You were proud and thrilled to have a wonderful, dreamy husband.

Steven transitioned into summer session classes at uni while you contemplated advancing your nursing career. Marc seemed steady, albeit a little quiet. Not brooding quiet - more like...observationally quiet.

The two of you had discussed what he might like to do. After all, he had spent years as a man of action. But he insisted he was content in his current role, making sure Steven got the education and credentials he deserved.

Still...something about him seemed a little off. There was no evidence of him drinking, and, even in his darkest times, drinking was never something he hid from you. It was a bit difficult to hide anyway, but he never even attempted to. So you didn't suspect alcohol as the culprit.

After insisting he was fine for a few weeks, he finally admitted how hard he had been trying to communicate with Jake. You were a little surprised at first, but only at first. After all, Marc had never enjoyed the feeling of not having control - whether over himself, his life, or just in general.

By now, an eternity had passed since you last saw or spoke to Jake. When Marc admitted that he had spoken to Jake quite a few times since your wedding, you had to bite your tongue to keep from asking, 'Did he ask about me?'

You already knew the answer. Jake was not interested in all things you. Besides, this wasn't about you anyway - it was about Marc as a system. Instead, you asked Marc why he didn't say something sooner to you about speaking to Jake.

"I didn't want to upset you," was his explanation. Fair enough.

Instead of starting an interrogation with questions like, 'Does he still work for Khonshu?' and the like, you kept your focus on your husband and asked, "Is that why you've been so quiet?"

Chewing on his lip, he waited a minute before replying, "Maybe. Just trying to figure some stuff out."

The look on your face clued him in to the fact that he was being vague at best. So he knelt down in front you as you sat in Steven's reading chair, took your hands and said, "I'll tell you more soon. I'm working really hard to figure out how we can all be happy - how we can all coexist and really be safe, and free of Khonshu for good."

Oh.

If Marc was working on something Khonshu-related, then his contemplativeness tracked. He was so earnest in trying to confess this little piece to you, that you decided to believe him and not prod too much right now. Just for now.

The very next night, you came home from work a little late - a night quite reminiscent of the one when you had found Marc drinking - to find your flat dark and mysteriously quiet.

Calling your husband's names, you headed to the bedroom to get changed when you heard a thump and a groan from inside the bathroom. Panic shot through your body as you bolted through the door, shoving it open to find...Marc? slumped over the closed toilet, shirtless, clutching his side and groaning in pain.

"Baby - what happened?" You gasped, kneeling down and switching into triage mode. That's when you saw blood pooling around his hand, oozing through his fingers.

What the hell...

"Shit, you're bleeding," you cried, stating the obvious while jerking the nearest towel off the rack to press to his side.

He grunted, reluctantly dragging his crimson-coated fingers away, hissing as you pressed the cloth into his side to staunch the bleeding.

Tears burned your eyes at the sight of your wounded husband, but only for a second, as your medical training kicked in. You noticed right away that his knuckles were bloodied, as if he'd punched a wall. His lip was split, his eyebrow was cut and there were even a few angry scrapes across his cheek.

"Hold this here for me, baby, I need to get the first aid kit," you sniffed, pulling his hand back over the towel covering his bleeding side. Most of what you needed was in the bathroom with you, so as soon as you were ready, you sat down and reached for his fingers.

"Here, let me see," you instructed. You gasped at the deep, angry gash in his flesh. "Okay...okay, I need to stitch this up, honey, it's deep." Pausing for a moment, you realized it was a horrible idea to tend to your husband, especially with tears stinging your eyes.

"Actually, here," you pushed the cloth back over his wound, making him groan in agony. "Come on. We need to get to A&E - "

"No," he firmly protested. "You do it."

You shook your head. "Marc, listen, I really should-"

"No," he repeated, his eyes finding yours. "Too many questions. No police."

Shaking your head in frustration, you grabbed your first aid kit, which was really a small medical bag, containing enough supplies to be useful in an emergency.

You would do anything for Marc, but right now, you were confused and growing more worried by the moment. "What were you even doing? How did you get hurt?" You huffed, gathering the supplies to mend his wound.

He didn't answer, and that pissed you right off.

Pausing just for a moment, you glared at him, before gathering some clean towels. Without a word, you hurried to the kitchen to set the kettle to boil, just in case you needed to sterilize anything the old fashioned way.

When you returned to your husband, you had calmed down a little.

Pulling the bloody towel away from his side once more, you started to clean the angry gash, attempting to get ready to close the wound.

A few minutes later, you instructed Marc to move to the bed. You certainly weren't going to stitch him up on the bathroom floor.

Pausing for a moment, you granted him a reluctantly sympathetic smile, brushing his sweaty curls away from his forehead.

"This is going to hurt. I don't have anything to give you - anything to numb the pain," you carefully explained. "Are you sure you don't want to go to A&E?"

He nodded once, but still wouldn't speak to you.

"How did you get hurt, Marc? I thought you still had...healing armor or whatever. From Khonshu." And why was he acting so weird?

The instant you had the thought that Marc really didn't seem himself was the moment you knew.

Staring into his eyes challengingly, you whispered his name. "Marc?"

Swallowing hard, he drew a trembling breath. "Not Marc."

All the blood drained from your face. You blinked rapidly, completely blindsided and so confused.

"Jake?"

Averting his gaze, he gave you another nod.

Despite all your medical training, you froze. Lips trembling, you reached up to his face, carefully minding his scrapes and cuts as your fingers traced his jaw. It had been so, so long...

"You're hurt," you whispered, as if it were new information. In a way, it was. Because a moment ago, in your mind, Marc was the one hurt. That was bad enough, but now, after weeks on end of hearing nothing...

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes drifting closed at your touch. "Please help me."

Releasing his jaw, you covered his hand with yours, squeezing gently before nodding.

"This will hurt, Jake," you reminded him, as if he wasn't there a minute ago to hear your warning.

"'S okay. I deserve it." Closing his eyes, he laid his head down and waited for the pain.

You were going to fucking kill someone. Either Jake, for asking you to stitch him up rather than go to A&E while you were reeling, having not seen him for so long. Or Khonshu for honestly being a giant pile of dicks. Maybe even Marc. You weren't sure why you were mad at Marc, but you had a feeling he was involved in this steaming pile of shit somehow. The only one who might get a pass was Steven, unless he was in on this Khonshu bullshit too.

Jake could feel your anger. It was rolling off of you, electrifying the whole bedroom. But your hands remained steady, tender and professional, dancing over his wounded flesh. The dichotomy of your righteous anger and your healing mercy made him burn for you.

Each stab with your needle felt like a consequence for how he'd failed you. Failed Marc.

It was silent torture, but finally you finished, cleaning and bandaging the wound. You had thought he might pass out from exhaustion or pain, but he simply stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

Not one fucking word of explanation, or even a cry of pain.

With a sigh, you left the room to wash up and get rid of some of the bloody dressings and instruments. The sutures were not your best work - after all, you didn't stitch people up on a daily basis. But it would have to do.

Feeling exhausted in every way, you readied yourself to tend to the rest of Jake's injuries, bracing yourself for stone cold silence. It fucking hurt, but he was more than clear on the matter of not communicating with you.

Returning to Jake's beside, you said nothing. You simply lifted his hand into your own, carefully cleaning his bloody knuckles. You thought about making a joke along the lines of 'I should see the other guy, right?' but ultimately decided against it. It seemed pointless to even try.

Grabbing a couple extra pillows from your side of the bed, you handed them to Jake, who had been watching you warily.

"I need you to prop up so I can take a look at the cuts on your lip and over your eye," you explained.

He obeyed, shifting the pillows into position before protesting. "You've done enough, cariño, you don't have to - "

"Like hell I don't," you snapped. "My husband's body is hurt..." you exhaled shakily, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "You're hurt, Jake. I'm doing this."

At first, he wouldn't look at you. You tended to the cut over his eye first - it was the worst one. "You'll need a bandage here...and it might even leave a scar through your eyebrow."

"I'm sorry," he repeated his apology from earlier. He didn't know what else to say.

"For what exactly?" You questioned, cleaning the scrapes along his cheek. You were close to him now, fingers brushing, eyes flickering, gazes locking. His breath ghosted over your hand.

"For everything," he offered, his own hand stretching out to grasp your elbow.

You jerked away. "That's really fucking specific, Jake. Thanks."

"Mi vida -" he started.

"Don't!" You bit out, glaring at him, your chest heaving. "Don't call me that. Just...just tell me how you got hurt. Tell me why you're not healing. Is Khonshu gone?"

Jake shook his head. "No. But our armor is."

"Why?" you gasped. "How can you...do your job if he doesn't protect you? I thought that was all part of the avatar package."

Jake didn't exactly feel comfortable with this line of questioning but he honestly didn't know what to do anymore.

"I think..." he started, clearing his throat. "I think it's...punishment."

Every negative and intense emotion coursing through your body narrowed to one. Terror.

"What?" You cried, placing your hands on his bare chest. "Khonshu did this to you?"

"No. He did this to Marc."

If there was anything Jake hated, it was causing you pain. He had made a sort of strange peace about staying out of your daily life, to protect you and Marc. He viewed returning your unopened letters as a mercy - as a way to let you off the hook.

But as you lay your head down on his chest, grasping his hand desperately, your warm tears flowing onto his bare skin, he knew he had utterly failed and completely misunderstood what you needed. After endless weeks of silence, it took one choked sob and desperate plea from you for him to break.

"Why would he hurt Marc?" You pleaded, clinging to Jake like a child would to a parent after a bad dream. "Please...please tell me what he did to my husband."

Jake smoothed his hand over your shoulder, rubbing your arm in a small attempt to comfort you, electrified by the nearness of you.

"I...um," releasing a shuddering breath, he decided you deserved to know. "Marc has been...talking to me. And Khonshu."

Jake went on to explain how Marc had been staying up late, attempting to maintain control of the body. How he had even gone out at night and summoned the suit -several times, in fact.

"Why?" You sniffled, leaning into Jake's embrace.

"I think he's trying to negotiate our freedom," Jake explained. "But...I don't want him to."

"Because it's your job," you spat, accusingly.

"No, mi amor," he gently corrected you. "Because the first night he put on the suit, he completely panicked, and almost bought some liquor."

You cried harder. What the hell was going on with them?

"He didn't drink," Jake clarified. "I was able to take the body after he started walking home. And the reason I don't want him doing all this is because I can't protect him if I'm not Moon Knight. If I'm not in control. If Marc is out there, and gets hurt, Khonshu doesn't care. He doesn't care if Marc drinks - in fact, he probably prefers it that way."

Easing his arms around you, Jake hissed at the stretch he felt in his stitched injury.

"Khonshu doesn't want me distracted," Jake explained. "By Marc or by you. He wants someone completely devoted to being his fist - to watching over the travelers of the night."

"That's bullshit," you argued, though most of your ire had given way to a form of despair. "If he was protecting people, he wouldn't have done this to Marc. He wouldn't have hurt him."

You and Jake lay on your bed, completely wrapped up in one another. He had tried to stay away for your sake, but if you needed this from him, he would gladly give it.

"He didn't hurt Marc directly," Jake went on. "He just..." blowing out a sigh, he mustered the courage to tell you. "He told Marc he was a worthless weakling and that he would pay for interfering. So..." Jake couldn't go on for a moment.

"What?" you whimpered, nuzzling your face into his neck as if you could hide from the horrible ancient deity.

"Khonshu waited until Marc was in the middle of a fight - he was trying to save a woman from...it was three men. Assholes..." His jaw clenched in fury. "Khonshu decided then to take away his armor. So...they beat the hell out of Marc and...they stabbed him. Cut him with a piece of glass. That's when I took the body." Too fucking late, as it turned out.

You broke down. You couldn't take it anymore. When would your husband ever be free of this torment?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jake said mournfully. "I tried so hard to protect him. To protect you from exactly a moment like this. I'm so sorry, mi vida."

He held you for a while, soothingly rubbing your back, thrilled and bewildered by the chance to hold you like this. To be able to give you some measure of comfort. To bear the injury Marc had sustained.

"Why do you call me that?" You softly questioned after your sobs had quieted. "Mi vida? Mi amor? I'm not."

Ouch. Jake's heart splintered.

But you went on to explain. "I've respected your choices, Jake, and your life on your own. But why do you call me those things if you don't even want to know me?"

"I told you - I do know you," he reminded you, his voice filled with conviction. "I think about you every day."

Propping up on one elbow, you peered down at him. "Then why won't you let me know you? Why did you return my letters?"

"To protect you," he insisted, wincing as you rolled your eyes. "From Khonshu. From everything. It was my fault Marc was drinking again. All of this pain, everything was because I wasn't doing enough - "

"Then let us help you, Jake," you pleaded. "Let's figure this out together."

"Marc tried and look what happened!" Jake fired back, flinching away from you. "He got hurt. He could have gotten us killed!"

Trying to sit up, Jake hissed in pain, his skin burning as your hands fussed over him, trying to help him.

"What happened tonight is exactly what I've been trying to prevent. No one is listening to me!"

"Because you don't fucking say anything!" You cried, climbing off the bed, scrambling around to stand in front of him. "All you do is play the martyr - lay down every piece of your existence on this sacrificial altar to a spiteful god! You don't talk to anyone, you don't know anyone, you don't do anything here but sleep!"

Tears streaked down your face as your lip trembled. "No one can listen to you because you've made yourself a ghost! You can't hear a ghost, Jake. You can't see or know a ghost. You can't love a ghost..."

Wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, you whispered woefully. "But I love you anyway. I'm here and I'll listen to you. You just don't say anything. And I know it's because of me. I know you can't stand to be around me - I guess you despise me - but you could at least try harder with Marc and Steven - "

"What did you say?" Jake breathed, his voice cold. With tremendous effort, he pushed himself off the bed and stood before you, eyes wet with fresh tears. "You think I despise you? How can you..." He trailed off, raking his fingers through his curls. "You really have no idea, do you?"

Shaking your head mutely, you stared up at him, so sweetly broken.

"You're right," he finally said, his head dropping in shame.

With a small whimper, you started to sniffle again, thinking you were right about how he couldn't stand to be around you.

"I haven't said anything to you. I've tried so fucking hard not to."

"Why?" you whispered. "What did I do wrong?"

He completely melted, reaching out for you. "Nothing, mi alma. Not one thing, ever."

Still confused, you shook your head mournfully. "Then why don't you..."

Murmuring your name, he brushed tender fingers over your cheek. "I was trying to keep you out of this - to keep you safe - to set you free - but I can see now - I only made everything worse."

Touching his forehead to yours, he wrapped one arm around your waist. "De verdad lo siento, mi amor. Por favor perdóname. Te amo."

He normally only spoke English with you, simply because that's what you spoke with Marc and Steven. But in his overflow of emotion, that's what came out.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"I understand," you whispered, your eyes wide, with a sliver of hope. "But you can say it again."

Tracing your lips with his thumb, he tried to show you everything inside his heart. He didn't deserve you, but he couldn't live without you anymore.

"I'm so sorry," he translated, brushing his lips over yours. "My love... please forgive me." Rubbing his nose against yours tenderly, he breathed against your mouth. "I love you."

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean @spxctor @flyesvenustrap @spxctors @cicithemes2000

703 notes · View notes