#Just trying to get my kiddo into my clone boys and it drops THIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quitealotofsodapop · 1 month ago

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Just read through the MKEgged tag, and where's Redson? I want to see the roller-coaster he goes on of "A baby!? Wait, who's the father If it can't be me? Oh, okay, no other parent. I'll step in and help, what do you mean the pregnancy has a high mortality rate!?"

Just this guy trying to figure out what he's feeling and how to handle things with this baby, because yay baby, but also No you're not allowed to die!"

Prev.

haha yes! XD

Red Son's bull-brain tells him "Whomst is the father!?" immediately, even if him and MK aren't in a fully romantic relationship yet. His infatuation tells him that only *he* can father Noodle Boy's progeny!

The fact that the pregnancy was magical in nature calms him down only a little bit... until he learns that MK's true species have a high maternal mortality rate due to this unique form of reproduction.

Red Son, busting on into MK's prenatal appointment: "Noodle Boy!! Who said that you're allowed to die!? I strictly forbid it!"

Red Son goes out of his way to investigate what knowledge is available on Stone Monkeys so he can devise a way to help MK survive and recover. He knocks on the door of every soul he can think of who would hold some idea of what to do; Lao Tzu, The Gold Star of Venus, and even Guanyin herself.

The alchemist and planet god both only had second-hand accounts of how Stone Monkeys lived, but provided copies of their literature all the same.

Approaching her old master was a little awkward, but the Bodhisattva Guanyin is a patron god of safe childbirth, and Red Son wanted to have their input on the matter. To her surprise, Guanyin was equally concerned for MK's well-being - and had already offered to attend the birth to ensure that they could monitor MK and the baby. Red Son learns from Guanyin that Sun Wukong himself had such questions many centuries ago, but curiously dropped the matter sometime after the Journey. Former master and disciple share a warm goodbye, finally reunited by their worry over a noodle monkey-boy.

Xiwangmu was still mourning the loss of her husband, so Red Son thought it improper to bother her on such a matter - but clearly Lao Tzu or Gold Star blabbed. The very next time Red Son stepped into the Celestial Realm, he found himself swept into a suffocating hug by the Queen Mother of the West.

Xiwangmu, weeping: "Oh, my little fire opal. You are so proactive! Scouring the Heavens and Earth to find a way to save your mate and child!" Red Son, confused: "EHH!?!?"

Turns out, the Queen Mother had a gut-reaction to hearing that her grandson's beloved ("WHO TOLD!?" shrieks Red) Monkey Prince was pregnant. And that reaction was; "GREAT-GRANDCUBS?!?!"

Red Son barely has a second to object. The Queen Mother weeps how the Jade Emperor is to miss the birth of his first great-grandchild, but that the pregnancy is a light in a very dark time for her and the court. She orders her court secretary to give Red Son unlimited access to the celestial library so that he can continue his research.

After the whirlwind of discovering that apparently even Heaven itself blames him for MK's Egg, Red Son turns to only two known members of the Noodle Boy's species.

Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque.

The Macaque was the most difficult to get information out of since he kept slipping into the shadows whenever Red brought up questions on his species. Luckily one attempt/battle (it got out of hand) lead to the appearance of Sun Wukong on the scene.

Wukong: "What's the issue, firecracker?" Red Son, holding thick notepad: "I need to understand your species so I can devise a way to prevent MK's stone egg from killing him!" Macaque, turns off powers: "Oh! Why didn't you say so? I thought you were trying to dissect me or something!" XD Wukong: "We know almost everything there is on our species, so fire away kiddo." Red Son: "Yes! Finally! Question 1; in the case of self-spawned eggs, is the child a genetic clone of the parent?" Wukong & Macaque: (*both shake their heads*) Wukong: "Oh no. Its not a clone. You see, the Egg absorbs Dao from it's surroundings - not just it's parent. So it steals bits of DNA from whatever troop happens to be around. You know like friends, family-" Macaque, slyly: "Former mates." Wukong: "Former ma- hey!" (*glares*) Red Son, thinking: "So an additional source of life energy could supplement MK's own depleted supply?" Wukong: "Yeah... but the healthiest option is usually a dear friend or life partner. Someone who can cling to them and supply the most juice. Also helpful if the pregnant person wants their kid to look like their fave person." Macaque, knowing smile: "Or... whoever they have a big crush on." Red Son: (*hair-flames briefly flicker pink in blush as he imagines a red-furred baby monkey with calf hooves*) Red Son: "Wait. How come you both know so much about this topic? I know Sun Wukong has access to the celestial library, but Macaque has been barred from the palace grounds since the rebellion! Why do you share the same knowledge?" Wukong & Macaque: (*both start spluttering and choking on air*) Wukong, trying to find words: "You see-! We uh...!" Macaque: (*fades into background at 50% opacity, hiding face in scarf*) Red Son, realising: "Ah. I see. Thank you for your input, gentlemen." Wukong: "Where are you going now?" Red Son: "I'm going over to Noodle Boy's place. I have been invited for company." (*Red Son leaves. Macaque phases back in*) Wukong: "Well. The Egg might not be her doing. But she certainly wishes it was." Macaque: "I'm just glad they didn't try getting more out of us." Wukong, cheeky grin: "Like what? How we both know so much about Stone Eggs because once upon a time we wanted some of our own?" Macaque: (*hides face in scarf again*) "Shut up, peaches."

As for the Demon Bull parents? Well..

PIF, calmly writing letters: "Even if the child was not made the traditional fashion, we will both adore them all the same. I expect any grandchildren of mine to be as beloved as a prince or princess ought to be." DBK, arms full of baby shower gifts: "Make sure to note the exact hour, day, month, and year of the child's birth! It's very important for divining the calf's fortune!" Red Son, flames twitching: "Are you two-!? ARE YOU PLANNING A ROYAL BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT!?" PIF: "Do not shout dear. My mother visited shortly after you left. Seems that a certain child of mine has been asking around about celestial monkeys and safe magical birthing practices, and it's stirred the court's rumour mill. Me and the simians are planning a formal announcement once the child arrives." Red Son, blushing pink: "I would have gone through the same effort if I only considered them a mere ally." PIF: "I know you would. But a mere ally, does not donate so much life energy to the parent in hopes that the child becomes theirs." Red Son: (*blush grows even bigger, flames spit embers onto the surrounding furniture*) PIF, brushes embers off of desk: "Hopefully, Xiaotian doesn't experience the terrible heartburn I did whilst carrying you." Red Son: "Mother!" DBK, wincing with sympathy: "Only exacerbated by your cravings, my love! You had a great desire for charcoal and spiced meat on the bone."

MK texts Red Son a few hours later asking if he'd like to go out for some barbecue; "Just started craving it for some reason. Oh! And we should make sure to get cheese tea too! Acid reflux acting up rn and I need something to quench the flame."

Red is so down bad.

It's not all sunshine and baby monkeys though - there is genuine worry across the families about MK's condition. None more so than the men who raised him.

(*Red is leaving MK's place after a hang out session, when a certain pig-man in the kitchen speaks up*) Pigsy: "Hey... thanks for being there for him." Red Son, surprised: "Huh? Oh! No problem..." Pigsy: "I know you like him. Like, like-like him. I don't exactly approve but.... you've been going out of your way to find ways to help me. Make sure he..." Pigsy: (*trails off, eyes puffy*) Red Son: (*quietly approaches, awkwardly places a hand on Pigsy's shoulder*) Pigsy: "Promise me something." Red Son: "Ok." Pigsy: "If the worst happens... I want you to still be there. For them. Not just because you like him. But because you really care about him and his kid." Red Son, certain: "I do. I truly care for Xiaotian. And I wish to be there for him through it all. And if the unthinkable were to occur, I would still be there for them." Pigsy, wipes tears with sleeve: "Thanks, punk." Red Son: "Again, no problem." Pigsy, changing tone: "Now! What's with this letter I got saying MK and his baby are gonna be presented to the Heavenly and Infernal Court?" Red Son, remembers previous encounters: "oops."

Once he fully explains the misunderstanding in heaven, Pigsy whacks Red with a spatula.

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obwjam · 4 years ago

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4 with a clone? Any clone you want!

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

lol back doing these prompts from forever ago, gonna use rex and the 501st boys for this one because they currently have my heart

from this post

———————————————————————

Rex peered through the rusty metal bars, still in awe of what he was seeing. He could certainly understand the fear they must have been feeling, but he would have figured his face was a much better sight than that of a battle droid. Apparently not.

The 501st had been sent on a rescue mission to help a village that had been under siege and h held hostage by the Separatists, and they had finally destroyed the last of the droid army that was holding the civilians at gunpoint. Rex’s job was to go through all the buildings to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for as the rest of the squad set up relief tents outside.

He didn’t expect to find a three-inch-tall person cowering inside a cage.

The tiny thing had stared at him, paralyzed in fear, until Rex moved his hand to unlock the cage and they gasped and pushed themselves into the back corner. Rex had gently tried asking them who they were, what their name was, why they were locked up, but they wouldn’t give him anything but silence.

“Can you at least let me help you outta there?” he asked with a weak smile. He set his blasters down on the ground and took a knee in front of the cage. The little guy couldn’t have been much older than Anakin or Ahsoka. Their matted hair stuck to their tear-soaked face, and their baggy clothes were torn and caked with dirt. They were hugging their legs to their chest and their head rested down between their knees. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Kid?” Rex tried. He was beginning to think the poor thing didn’t even speak basic. “Can you... do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was subtle, but the tiny tilted their head up and made the slightest eye contact with him before whipping their gaze back to their shoes.

“I’ll... take that as a yes.” Rex sighed. He wasn’t qualified to handle something like this. He was just here to make sure the villagers were safe.

“Look, kiddo, I don’t know anything about your situation, but we set up a relief tent outside. It’s got food and water and anything you could want.” Rex looked down to his hand and flexed his gloved fingers. “Now, don’t freak out, but I’m just going to—”

“NO!”

The sudden shout startled Rex, and he lost his balance for a moment. His hand was about halfway to the threshold of the cage before the tiny had had enough. He stared at them, eyes wide.

“P-please... just... just leave me alone...”

Rex swallowed. Their voice was impossibly small and shaky. He had to strain his eyes just to get a good look at them as they shifted their position. He could barely see flakes of rust shimmering down as they rubbed against the cage bars.

“Hey, I’m not... I’m not gonna hurt’cha,” Rex assured. He held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t grab ya. Promise.”

At the movement of his hands, the tiny whimpered and eyed him warily. They were shaking badly.

Rex’s heart sank. The hut they were in was dark, damp and clearly damaged from blaster fire. The tiny was situated deep in the shadows, practically unnoticeable to anyone who passed by. They kept blinking away tears. Rex couldn’t help but wonder how long they’d been stuck in that cage.

“G-go away. Please,” the tiny stuttered, clearly summoning an immense amount of strength to say those words. Whether they were fighting through sheer exhaustion or pure fear, Rex wasn’t able to tell.

“Kid, it’s not safe in here! This hut is badly damaged. It could collapse at any moment. Just let me take you outside with everyone else—”

“No!” they cried again, flinching when Rex shimmied a bit to stay balanced. “I—I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Because!” the tiny was becoming increasingly exasperated, and the look of fear present in their eyes every time they defied Rex broke his heart. “I don’t... belong.”

“Is this not your home?” Rex was confused. Sure, they were the only tiny being they had encountered here, but it wasn’t uncommon for tinies to integrate themselves into larger clans. “Didn’t the Seps put you in this thing?”

To Rex’s horror, the tiny shook their head. “I was in here long b-before the-the droids got here.”

Rex blinked in shock. He saved this tiny... from the villagers he had just helped to free.

“It doesn’t matter,” they mumbled, drawing their knees closer to their chest. “I don’t need—”

“What can I do to get you to trust me?”

Surprised, the tiny cocked their head. “I—I—”

“If what you’re saying is true, then... then you don’t deserve to keep living like this. Let me take you back with me, I—I can get you the help you need and we can relocate you.”

“Relocate?” the tiny repeated. What was he going on about?

“I-If you just let me take you outside, we can get you some food and water and I can talk to my General about finding you a new home.”

“You mean... you mean leave Terronia?”

Rex suppressed a smile. That was the most optimistic they sounded thus far. “Yeah, kid. We can getcha far away from this rock. If that’s what you want, of course. Once the mission’s over and we leave, we’re probably never comin’ back.”

The tiny sat in silence, eyes darting around rapidly as they tried to piece together what Rex was saying. If he could really get me out of here...

“You’d... really help me?” they asked, still skeptical.

Rex sniffed a laugh and slowly brought his hand to the front of the cage, laying his palm open. The tiny just stared at it.

“I—I dunno...” They were looking at his hand like it was a ticking time bomb. “I—I’ve never...” they trailed off. Rex was pretty sure he knew what they were trying to say.

“It’s safe, I promise. I’ll go slow.”

After a moment of contemplation, the tiny slowly rose to their feet. Rex tried not to stare as they hobbled their way to the front of the cage. They almost looked like a kaadu that was just learning to walk.

The tiny stopped right at the foot of his palm. Rex’s hand came up just below their waist. With a clenched jaw, the tiny looked up at Rex, finally taking in the giant for the first time. He wore a soft, expectant expression, and his eyes shone as he watched every little movement of theirs.

His muscles involuntarily flinched when the tiny swung their leg up, but he was able to keep still as they situated themself in the middle of his palm. They awkwardly crawled to the center and sat down cross-legged, nervously eyeing the fingers that were as tall as they were.

“Okay, I’m gonna move...” Rex warned, giving them one last look before taking his blasters in his free hand and standing up. The tiny wobbled a bit, but otherwise seemed okay.

“Feeling alright?” Rex asked. The tiny nodded, looking around at their new view. They had never been this high up before. Given the situation, it was terrifying, but there was something exhilarating about it. Almost... fun. Adventurous. They found themself peering over the edges of Rex’s hand, soaking in the scenery that once looked impossibly huge and distant. They hadn’t felt this way in years.

Rex couldn’t help but smirk. Even if it was just for a moment, as he thoroughly killed the mood by starting to walk, the tiny wasn’t scared. They even seemed excited. It was adorable.

Rex pushed past the burnt brown cloth that acted as a door. He kept his hand close to his chest, trying to stay conscious of the featherweight in his hand as he slowly strolled through the camp he had helped set up. Several tents were pitched, with food, water, blankets and other supplied piled up in boxes. The villagers chatted between sips of tea and bites of ration bars. It was almost hard to believe they had treated this poor tiny so harshly.

“Captain!”

Rex’s stomach dropped. He has almost forgot about the rest of his squad. How was he going to explain this?

“Rex! There you are! I thought we’d lost ya— oh.” It didn’t take long for Fives to notice the tiny being sitting in Rex’s palm. They were now clinging onto his thumb for support, staring up at Fives with a renewed sense of fear.

Fives dared to speak. “Captain?”

“I found them in one of the huts. They... aren’t really welcome here, so I’m taking them to the General to see if we can help them relocate.”

“I see...” Try as he might, Fives couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tiny. He crouched down.

“Hey there,” he said softly, immediately taking notice of the way they winced when he got near. “I’m Fives. Part of the 501st. What’s your name?”

The tiny stared back, frozen. Above them, Rex cleared his throat.

“They... aren’t much of a talker.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright,” Fives smiled, trying to show them he was friendly. “Lucky we found you, huh? Who knows what would’ve happened if Rex here didn’t—”

“Fives.”

“Right. Sorry. You’re in good hands with Rex, kid. Literally.” He cracked another smile. “He’s our best. He’ll take good care of ya until we can get you somewhere safe.”

“I think you should go help Echo get the rest of the rations off the ship,” Rex pressed. He was surprised how well he could feel the tiny’s tremors through his glove.

“Yes, sir,” Fives said, holding his gaze to the tiny for a few more seconds before standing back up to his full height. The tiny’s heart skipped a beat. “See ya later, tiny!”

The tiny blinked as Fives bounded off somewhere. “Bye,” they whispered weakly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Rex blushed. “A lot of my men are like that. But don’t mind them. They’re totally harmless. They’re just... curious, is all.”

The tiny nodded as Rex continued along. Luckily, they weren’t bothered by any more clones, but the villagers quickly noticed what Rex was carrying. He gave stern glances at each villager that looked almost disgusted that Rex was helping the tiny.

“That’s just awful,” Rex muttered, almost forgetting the tiny could hear him. He craned his neck down. “How could they treat you like that?”

They just shrugged. “‘Cause I’m tiny.”

Rex humphed. He wasn’t sure how inclined he felt to help out the Terronians anymore.

Suddenly, the unmistakable voice of Anakin pierced the busy air. “Rex! Where have you been? You were supposed to check in at 0500.”

“Sorry, General. I... I got a bit sidetracked.” Sheepishly, Rex held out his hand to reveal the once again terrified tiny to Anakin. The Jedi nearly did a double take.

“Rex? What... who is this?”

“This is... ah, I found them in one of the huts. They were stuck in this cage, so I helped ‘em out.”

“A cage?” Anakin was beside himself. He had seen tinies in his childhood, but none since he left Tattooine. He had almost forgotten how he used to try and befriend every single tiny that hung decoratively in Watto’s shop. “What would droids want with a tiny?”

“They didn’t,” Rex said, and that was all Anakin needed to hear to understand what was going on. Anakin’s expression briefly turned dark before he remembered the tiny’s trembling eyes were on him. He softened as he too crouched down, trying to offer a reassuring smile. The tiny could barely breathe. This was a Jedi!

“Hey, lil guy, I know it’s gotta be scary for you right now, but trust me when I say we’ll take good care of you. No more cages. We’ll keep you safe, alright?”

The tiny nodded almost robotically. Their open mouth only produced whimpers and gasps as Anakin stared right through them.

“We can work on that,” he quipped warmly. He could sense their fear so strongly he almost started to feel it too. The poor thing looked minuscule in Rex’s hand, surrounded by ships and tents and giants. “Are you okay with Rex? Or do you want someone else to help?”

The tiny was surprised. Someone was really asking them what they wanted? And a Jedi no less. Everyone seemed to want to help. Maybe this wasn’t a trick...

“I like Rex,” the tiny whispered, so softly that Anakin could barely pick it up.

“You like Rex?” Anakin said again, grinning up at the now-red-faced captain. The tiny nodded meekly. “Well, then I’ll let him help you get settled.” He stood up slowly. “Why don’t you head back to the ship a bit early? And take some extra rations with you. Something tells me you’ll need it,” Anakin winked, savoring the look of pleasant surprise on Rex’s face.

It took Rex a moment to break out of his daze. “You ever been on a ship before?” he asked, though he already could guess the answer. The tiny shook their head. “It might be a little nauseating, but the feeling goes away quickly. For some more than others,” he added under his breath. At this, the tiny chuckled. They almost couldn’t believe their luck.

“Thank you, Rex.”

Rex looked down, locking eyes with the tiny. They weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo. We’re here to help.”

“Caro.”

“What?”

“Caro. My name’s Caro Kann,” they said, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. “It’s... been a while since anyone’s asked for my name.”

“Oh,” was all Rex could say for a moment. There was a lot more to this tiny than he thought. Whatever questions he had, though, they could wait. “I’m glad you felt like you could finally tell me your name.”

Caro didn’t respond, but they didn’t need to. Instead of hugging themselves tensely, their shoulders had relaxed as Rex made his way to the gunship. Whatever was about to happen was going to be scary, overwhelming, and difficult to deal with. That much Caro knew. But it wasn’t very daunting, really. Not anymore.

“Ready, Caro?” Rex asked, pulling his hand up a bit as the gunship doors slid open. “You’ll need to hold on tight.”

Caro nodded and scooted over to Rex’s thumb, where they clung on tightly. Rex curled his fingers in, giving Caro a sort of roof protecting them from the noise and wind. Rex’s other hand was stretched high above, but he had moved the hand holding Caro close to his chest. Caro lurched forward as the gunship took to the air, but they weren’t worried.

They knew Rex was someone they could trust.

#i’ve had a rollercoaster week and all i’ve been thinking about is mindless fluff #so this is what you’re gonna get #i love rex’s most endearing quality being like. he just seems like a good guy #also not me naming a character after a chess opening because i think the name sounds star wars-y LOL #anyway sorry this took literal months to get to #i’m working on it #star wars g/t #obwrites

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popchoc · 3 years ago

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what would you have wanted to see happen with marina this season? like, if they hadn’t gone the baby route, what would be ideal for you? for me, something really lacking is the bonding. the fact that it’s been 10 months and maya and vic aren’t closer makes zero sense. they all need a girls night badly. jack also need to find his siblings and they need to quit it with dean’s ever longing yearning. it’s weird, and silly like he’s an adult lol

Hi there! I got a question much alike not that long ago, you can find the answer right here.

Let’s zoom in a bit more on Maya and Carina though.

So, as said I want Maya to get the recognition she deserves, including the acknowledgement that she shouldn't have been demoted, but I also prefer seeing her as an LT, since that’s way more exciting. Question is, how to get both.

I’ll tell you.

First of, Maya gets that recognition. Yet then, on the brink of getting her captaincy back, she’ll find herself in a situation in which she will (deliberately) ignore an order - after which she can be glad she doesn't drop yet another rank (but she doesn't care, as she'll stand for what she's done).

Now this will be the situation about that order.

I know that many have set their minds on Maya being endangered or hurt (and Carina freaking out over this). I'd really prefer the opposite though!

I'd like to see Carina trapped in some fire - a big one, like at least as big as the one that almost killed Stephanie (Grey’s s13 finale), so some real danger. 19 will be there, but Maya won’t be allowed to go in; not just because of personal matters, but because it is indeed too dangerous. But badass Maya - who’s actually able to keep her head cool when she has to - won’t be stopped and gets in anyway, gets trapped in a bunch of real scary situations and eventually saves her wife. (Then, later at the hospital, where Carina will be fighting for her life, Maya can collapse and freak out and cry and make me cry. But no matter the outcome regarding Carina’s life, Maya won’t ever regret ignoring that order and ruining the opportunity to (ever?) become captain again.

So, yeah, I’d like to order this for some drama this season (+ a Mason arc, as I wrote in the other post), and with that - and a shitload of work related action - I’m more than fine with the rest of it just being more fun, just like you.

Which indeed includes more girls nights. With the 19 girls and Carina, but once in a while also without her, since I believe that a healthy relationship comes with being able to also do stuff separately (and then tell each about it later). Plus Carina needs her own friends. Amelia and Teddy could work, but since they are on different shows I’m afraid we wouldn’t see much of that - so I haven’t figured this out yet.

(If I’m being honest I don't need to see Carina in every episode - which has nothing to do with my current ‘struggles’ with her. I know she's a regular, but I’m afraid that if they have to keep trying to come up with stuff for her to do, it feels more forced than fun. After all, we don't see Bailey all the time either.)

Last but not least, about Jack and Dean: yes!! I wouldn’t mind seeing my boy (Jack that is) hooking up with a real foxy and intriguing lady (to make up for last season); nothing too serious, just fun. Some Renee Royce (Chicago Fire) clone maybe? And with Dean they’d have a chance of showing how he’s rocking life as a single dad - so even though I’m not a big fan of kids on screen I wouldn’t mind some more day-to-day interaction with him and his kiddo.

#ask #station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #jack gibson #dean miller

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chancelloramidala · 4 years ago

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Across The Stars In A Galaxy Far Far Away ★ Star Wars & Marvel Crossover AU

ONE.

Tony didn’t know what else to expect when Peter called him at two in the morning. He wasn’t even asleep, just drinking coffee in his workshop and fiddling with a new project. Usually when Peter texted him it was about literally the smallest thing. And most the time, Tony didn’t mind it, he found it endearing that the kid wanted to update him on if he passed a test or not and the latest gossip going around school was.

But this time, it was a call, which was deviated from the usual. Calls were important, and Tony wasn’t prepared to talk about anything important. Was Peter going to talk about dating with him? Did he like someone at school? Did he have questions about the birds and the bees?

No. The answers to all of that was no.

Not even fucking close.

Peter was talking so fast that Tony thought the kid accidentally took some drugs and was hallucinating, but when the kid finally slowed down, that’s when Tony heard it.

“I think a space ship just crashed into Central Park, Mr. Stark!”

Tony spat out his coffee all over the steel table. “What?”

“I think a space ship just crashed-”

“Nope, I heard you kiddo,” Tony rubbed his temple feeling a migraine begin. “Promise me you didn’t take anything, nothing that looked like candy off the ground?”

“What? Why would I even... Oh my god, I think aliens are inside the ship!” there was some shuffling and Tony could only assume Peter was running to hide. “I hear something, yelling... clanking...”

Tony felt his face pale as he stepped away from the coffee ruined table and he held the phone closer to his ear. “Peter, whatever you do, don’t approach them. Wait till we get there.”

“”We”?”

“Yes we. Now stay put.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up!” Peter exclaimed as the voice call turned into a video one, “I think they’re trying to get out of their ship! Look!”

Peter turned the camera in his phone around to reveal what he was seeing to Tony.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Anakin helped Obi-Wan down the ramp with one arm loosely around his friend’s torso to keep him upright. “Well, at least we’re all in one piece.” He said as he sat Obi-Wan down next to Ahsoka who was being tended to by Padmé.

Padmé rolled her eyes as she applied a bacta patch on Ahsoka’s bruised back. “No doubt it’s thanks to your flying, Ani,” she sharply replied.

“Where are we anyway?” Ahsoka asked, carefully rolling her shoulders despite the aching pain.

“We’re too far away for our coms to get a signal out.” Rex said as he continued to tap at his com. “I can try again with the communication systems on board, but they looked fried beyond compare, sir.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to try again,” Anakin nodded his head at the Clone Captain before he turned around and went back onto the ship.

Obi-Wan patted Anakin’s arm before reaching up to run a hand through his auburn hair. “I didn’t recognize the star system before we crashed,”

“Artoo?” Anakin called out for his trusty astromech droid. In an instant, R2-D2 rolled down the ramp, beeping and chirping. “Can you get a read of the terrain and figure out what we’re dealing with?”

The Jedi Knight looked around at his surroundings, seeing that there were trees, grass and what seemed to be a water fountain nearby. Benches were scattered about and there was a cobble stone wall way a few feet away. If anything, the area they were in didn’t seem hostile at all.

“Will do,” he beeped as a part of his dome shed while his life-form scanned extended from the top. It turned and started to scan the surrounding area while the droids companions were given bacta patches from Padmé.

“I’m picking up someone in the tree over there!” warbled the droid as he moved side-to-side nervously and extended his utility arm to gesture to the tree he was talking about.

Anakin reached out into the Force, feeling that there was a Force-sensitive being in the tree. Then, with a raised arm, Anakin used the Force to apprehend the being and remove them from their hiding place. From what he could see, it was a small form, lean and of average height wearing some sort of blue and red suit with strange shaped eyes.

Peter Parker yelped as he was yanked out of the tree and dropped his phone on the ground, Mr. Stark’s voice fading away. Now he was just levitating in the air before the aliens he was stalking. “Oh my god, please don’t kill me!”

Padmé Amidala’s eyes widened as she heard the voice and jumped up from her spot next to Obi-Wan and tugged on Anakin’s arm, “Ani, he’s just a kid, put him down!”

“Oh,” Anakin deflated as he felt his face heat up. He carefully lowered the boy to the ground and sent him a sheepish grin. “Sorry ‘bout that,”

The teenage boy wanted to scream, he was so confused. “Uh... that’s okay, um, thanks for putting me down-”

Then a beautiful woman dressed in a maroon vest paired with tan pants and long-sleeve stepped forward. “Are you okay?” Even if Peter was absolutely baffled with what was going on and was on a verge of an anxiety attack, the soothing presence of this woman calmed him down a bit.

Peter made a small uncertain noise, “I don’t really... know,” he let out an awkward laugh before pulling off his mask, causing Padmé, Anakin, and Obi-Wan to see how young this boy was. Ahsoka was glad to see someone who looked around the same age as her. “I mean, how would you react if you saw a UFO crash in the middle of Central Park?”

Before anyone could answer that, (especially Anakin who wanted to say that he wasn’t an alien here and if anyone was an alien it would be Ahsoka), a voice was screaming from the ground.

“Peter? PETER?!”

“Shit,” Peter mumbled under his breath and then crouched down to pick up his phone that he dropped earlier. “Mr. Stark-!”

“Fucking HELL, kid! You can’t do that to me!” Tony Stark’s panic ridden face filled his screen, and from what Peter could see, he was wearing his Iron Man suit. “Where are the aliens? Whatever, we’re on our way.”

Peter raised a brow as another flare of confusion coursed through him. “Mr. Stark, I don’t really think that’s necessary-”

“Stay where you are. That’s an order!” Tony briskly ended the call.

Peter stared blankly at his phone with his mouth agape.

Rex then descended from the ship’s ramp and walked over to the group with his helmet in his hands. “Sir,” he said, briefly sparing a look at the boy they picked up.

“Yes, Rex?” Obi-Wan slowly rose from his spot on the rock and ignored the shoot of pain from his ribs. Anakin also turned his attention to his second-in-command, but could sense something was up and that it probably had to do with what he found.

“Um...” The Clone Captain looked torn, expressing this through standing up straighter and nervously gripping on his helmet. “There’s no record of this galaxy in our records.”

Anakin’s fists curled by his side. “What?”

Padmé frowned and turned her head towards Obi-Wan. “Is that even possible?”

Obi-Wan held a thoughtful expression on his face and gently stroked his auburn beard. “It wouldn’t be the first time a planet was wiped from the records. It happened to Kamino before the War started.”

Ahsoka turned away from the adults and let them talk among themselves, feeling that her input wouldn’t add anything. So she turned her attention to the human boy across from her. He looked severely conflicted by how furrowed his eyebrows where and how he kept nibbling on his lower lip. Not only the physical signs of conflict being completely evident in him, but she could feel the emotional strings of his mind reach out to her.

He’s Force-Sensitive? She asked herself and then cautiously approached him, curiosity swirling inside of her. “Hey, are you okay?”

Peter shrugged and ran a hand through his brown hair. “This was not how I was expecting my night to go, that’s all.”

The Togruta almost laughed, the exact thought crossing her mind. “I get that, name’s Ahsoka by the way.”

“I’m Peter, hi Ahsoka.” he offered her a half-hearted smile, one that she returned.

A shadow of something flew overhead, accompanied by what Ahsoka could only assume was a jet pack. Her hand instantly fell onto her lightsabers by her hip, turning her head in the direction of her Master. Bright lights then shined brightly, causing Ahsoka to raise a hand to block it from blinding her as five silhouettes appeared from the source of the light.

“Stay where you are,” a modulated voice said and stepped forward, revealing a red and golden droid aka the source of the lights that came from its palms. “Give us the kid and we can do things without ruining Central Park.”

"I don’t think this hostility is necessary,” Padmé started her cordial senator mask falling onto her easily, putting her hands up to show that she meant no harm. “Our ship crashed while we escaping an ambush set up by Separatist sympathizers. We will be more than willing to explain everything to you, but please, we need medical assistance and a place to repair our ship.” she carefully explained, staring at the droid and discerning that the make and model wasn’t Separatist grade.

Tony Stark turned his head to the side to one of the silhouettes but kept his hands raised just in case. “What do you think, Cap? Do you believe their story?”

Steve Rogers scanned the group before them. One of the men was holding his side, while another looked like he was going to pass out because of pure exhaustion. Three of the five individuals had slim silver cylinders on their belt, as for the other two had guns he has never seen before. If anything, they looked bruised and tired, and didn’t seem hostile.

“I do believe them,”

Tony made a small disgruntled noise but then lowered his arms to his side. “Fine,” he eyed them warily and scanned the group with his sensors, seeing that four of them were humans while one was indeed an alien species. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring in the cavalry to get their space bucket out of here,”

Obi-Wan staggered in his footing, causing Rex, who was the closest to him, to hold him steady. “Careful there, sir,”

“I’m fine,”

“Nope, you’re a liar,” Tony scoffed as he did a full scan on this bearded guy. “You’ve got a concussion and two broken ribs if my medical sensors are right, which they usually are..”

“Obi-Wan! You said it was nothing,” Anakin scolded his former mentor.

“And it is!”

“Alright, tough guy,” Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes as she walked over. “Let’s get you to someone who can make sure of that, hm?”

Clint and Natasha helped round everyone into one of the black SVU’s parked along the side walk while R2-D2 hurriedly rolled behind them and beeped incessantly.

“What the kriff is going on?” he asked.

“I’ve got no clue, Artooie,” Ahsoka patted his metal dome with her gloved hand.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” the droid beeped nervously before hoisting himself inside the strange looking speeder.

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

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(Sobs) kid!Noctis is like—the shit. He is the cutest goddammit shit ever. And do you know what that makes me want??? What if—NOX came back younger than noctis??? hUH? WHAT ABOUT THAT? (slaps table) trauma on the double on teeny tiny Boi with his Uncle Disaster that carts him around the wild, or Tiny Boi scrambling onto Hammerhead, wrapped in bandages with a huge ass sword on his back, covered in scars and marks, scowling and flinching at evERYTHING. (SLAPS TABLE( GIVE ME ANGST. (I need help.)

oohhhhh oHHHHHHHHH

WHY WOULD YOU Do ThIS tO ME-

-Ardyn would be freaking out so hard okay. SO HARD. Not only is he not dead, but Nox is like- THREE (because if Imma do this imma do it FOR SERIOUS) and that means his body and mind physically CAN’T hold that much memory yet, so Nox’s memories are basically on dream-state lockdown and while he is WAYYY more mature than a three year old Nox is now mentally an ACTUAL KID.

-HOW DO YOU TAKE CARE OF AN ACTUAL KID.

-Also Nox told him that Regis never looked at another woman after marrying Aulea, including after she died, so HOW DOES HE EXPLAIN NOX’S EXISTENCE IF CAUGHT.

-Ends up going on a rampage through Niflheim, blowing up ALL the labs, killing Besithia, binding Titus to him, not out of any plan but out of sheer PANIC because the only thing he can think of is to pretend that Nox is a CLONE and that means he has to remove any evidence/witnesses to the fact that Niflheim never got their hands on enough genetic material to try cloning an LC.

-Also saves 8 yr old Noctis from the Marilith by total accident about a month after time-traveling, he was just wandering around freaking out over having a three year old nephew to care for (who trusts him implicitly, who needs food and water and shelter on a regular basis which means schedules which mean Ardyn has to relearn the concept of TIME PRONTO) when he heard the Marilith and saw the burning car and instinctively noped his way in.

-Regis arrives in time to feel BURNING magic coating the air in red crystalline shards as a stranger in a hat and with an odd harness of some kind tied to his back tears the Marilith with an armiger. Regis sputters, Ardyn whirls around and Regis catches a glimpse of burning gold eyes and a TODDLER in a makeshift harness on the man’s front before the man warps away, leaving Noctis scared but unharmed because Ardyn got there before the Marilith could touch him.

-Regis’s keeps his composure only because his son needs him desperately but internally he’s screaming W H A T.

-Ardyn the Disaster Uncle is actually ... probably not discovered by Cid? While a frantic search begins for the mystery LC (Ardyn), I’m actually picturing like- Axis finding him and his first instinct is STAB CHANCELLOR but then there’s ... there’s a tiny kid there. And there’s burning LC magic as Ardyn snarls protectively over the boy, threatening to bind Axis to him out of defense until little Nox goes “Uncle, NO!” and Axis’s brain kicks over into both gratitude that he wasn’t enslaved and sympathetic dad mode.

-Axis grudgingly helps Ardyn settle down somewhere hidden after Ardyn gives his cover story (illegitimate LC, discovered that Niflheim was CLONING HIS RELATIVES and has since defected with the only surviving clone kiddo), probably Hunter HQ, which means Porrima takes one (1) looks at this panicking, flailing disaster uncle and takes him under her wing.

-Ardyn could just about worship the ground Porrima walks on for that. GUIDANCE FOR THE REARING OF SMOL NEPHEW. BLESS.

-Ardyn ends up adopted into the Arra Clan because it’s impossible to hate this messed up disaster human who is trying SO HARD to take care of his tiny human. Nox ends up adopted too, obviously, and he gets along splendidly with Axis’s kids, who are actually all about his age.

-Side note- Nox doesn’t have Quiet Days in this AU, he has Sick Days. Days where his magic gets out of control and swells under his skin and Nox collapses into a feverish mess that Dreams of his past or the KoL’s memories and all Ardyn can do is sing lullabies and stand in an ice cold shower with Nox in his arms to help bring down the fever that comes from having Too Much Magic packed in a tiny body (Nox will eventually grow out of Sick Days and they’ll turn into Quiet Days as his memories click back into place and his body/brain can handle that much magic but for now...)

-The Glaives are told by Axis about his new adoption and they are an Awkward Panic because THIS IS THE GUY THE KING IS FRANTICALLY SEARCHING FOR. BUT HE’S ALSO GALAHDIAN FAM NOW. WE CAN’T TURN HIM IN. BUT WE HAVE TO. GFDHGFD.

-In the end they don’t have to, because Cor stops by Meldacio to check on one of his Hunter contacts and comes face to face with a teeny Nox, who is now like- 5 years old. Cor, who is Noctis’s Godfather, INTIMATELY KNOWS bby Noctis’s face mentally goes BBY LC and starts to reach out to touch him when a voice snarls “Don’t touch my Nephew.” And the air grows thick with angry magic.

-Cor looks up and sees 1. Chancellor of Niflheim who has been missing for two years. 2. Blood red armiger swirling around ex-Chancellor’s body like bristling fur on a mama cat. 3. every Galahdian in the HQ has gone deadly still and is watching Cor with Murder in their eyes. For the first time in possibly ever, Cor feels like he could die in the next .05 seconds if he does the wrong thing. Steps back and raises his hands placatingly, inwardly panics when Nox fearlessly ambles up to him and latches onto his pant leg with a soft word that sounds like it might be is name or might be “Coeurl”.

-After much tense standoff and agitation from Ardyn, Ardyn agrees, grudgingly, to come to the Citadel to meet with Regis on the condition that his nephew is not taken away from him.

-Cor takes them back to the Citadel, everyone picture Regis’s face when he gets word from a servant that Cor is waiting in a private sitting room with guests and Regis comes in and sees the red-haired man from that night two years ago, the one with magic simmering warningly under his skin (Ardyn sees no reason to hide it at this point after all).

-Then Regis hears a sniffle-sob and his eyes drop do the-

-Child.

-Black haired blue eyed child that looks like a thinner, not as well cared for Noctis at age 5.

-The child who reaches out with his magic and fearlessly tangles it with Regis’s in a way that knocks the wind out of him as the little boy tilts his head and hesitantly says, “...Dad?”

-Regis rocks back as if slapped and has to lean against Clarus. Cor looks apologetic at least as he explains that he ... well, he found Mors illegitimate child and .... another.

-And Regis- Regis KNOWS that he has no son other than Noctis. He has not touched a woman since Aulea died and Noctis is TEN and this boy is even younger so he can’t- that can’t be-

-But Nox knows his father, even if his memories are locked in a sort of protective dream state that lets him know things like “Ardyn is Safe Uncle” and “Cor is Friend” and so Nox REACHES for him, wiggles against Ardyn’s tight grip and bursts into tears because Dad-dad-that’s-dad-he-WANTS-HIS-DAD-

-And suddenly Regis is across the room, gingerly taking the child from a reluctant Ardyn’s arms and pressing his face into the child’s (his child’s HIS BOY HIS SON-) hair and murmuring soothing nothings as the boy sobs and sobs and sobs and his magic (so MUCH magic it inwardly staggers Regis) tangles around Regis’s in relief-grief-relief-joy-love-love-love that Regis cannot fathom the origin of.

-Regis looks up slowly, dazedly at the half-brother he only glimpsed that night the man saved Noctis from the Marilith, the man who is the missing Nif Chancellor and the man grimaces at the wild-eyed question he can see in Regis’s eyes.

-“I care not for myself or what they did to me,” Ardyn murmurs softly and all Regis’s red flags go up (a half-sibling caught by Niflheim, a man who wears layers of long sleeved clothes and who’s cheeks are still a bit too hollow despite Porrima’s best efforts), “but when I found him, I could not stay. I could not let them have him.”

-Regis presses a kiss instinctively on the child’s hair as the boy snuggles into his neck and hiccups softly, “How...? I haven’t... not since Aulea...”

-Ardyn shrugs and keeps his eyes on his nephew, looking like he’s itching to snatch the boy back, his magic brushing against Regis’s by accident as it coils protectively around the little princeling, “That has never stopped them. All they needed was an adequate blood sample.”

-And Regis-

-Regis thinks of the little blond baby Cor brought home ten years ago, Cor’s expression of disgust and horror as he spoke of tanks upon tanks of people, all infected with the Scourge and unsalvageable save this tiny baby. Regis thinks of medical science and artificial fertilization and DNA and how Niflheim would do ANYTHING to have Lucis Caelum blood in their grasp, especially if Ardyn either refused or was incapable of having children. He thinks of all those things and looks at Ardyn’s grim, haggard expression and he-

-He breathes very carefully as he clutches the little boy closer, towering RAGE warring with gut-wrenching horror, “They-. Are there-?”

-Ardyn shook his head and gently ran his hand through downy black hair, “He is the only one. I destroyed all the facilities I could before they had the chance to do more.”

-And Regis needs to sit down. He needs to sit down with this tiny child in his arms and a half-brother that eyes Regis like he might bite and Regis- Regis wants to CRY but he can’t afford it, not now, so instead he cautiously reaches out and brushes magic with Ardyn (feels the instinctive, visceral flinch it causes the other man and backs off) and rasps hoarsely, “What ... what is his name?”

-Ardyn’s lips twitch sheepishly, “Our thoughts were not much different when it came to naming little Lucis Caelums I’m afraid. His name is Nox.”

-Regis breathes the name like a prayer and looks down at the boy already dozing off in his arms, totally, completely trusting the STRANGER that is holding him, magic already nestled against Regis’s (so MUCH, an unhealthy amount, and what had Niflheim DONE to make this tiny boy already so powerful in magic?) and pulsing a steady heartbeat of love-contentment-relief-trust. He looks back up at the man who should be an enemy but was instead family, who had saved Noctis from the Marilith and had saved this second son Regis had not known existed from fates worse than death and he asks, “Will you... would you do me the honor of staying? The both of you? Please?”

-And Ardyn gives in, because he cannot bear to separate Nox from his father now, not when Nox is radiating such contentment and happiness.

-Much later, probably days actually, after guest suites are prepared (and a snarling overprotective Ardyn gets his way of having Nox share his suite) and medical exams are taken (and Regis RAGES his way across a training room when he sees the pictures and reports of both his newest son and his half-brother, of the newest son’s many scars and his half-brother’s even worse scars and BRAND), Noctis is informed of new relatives and insists on going to see them.

-Noctis stares down at little Nox, who tilts his head curiously as he hides behind Ardyn’s leg, and Noctis’s heart MELTS. Nox is the same age as Iris, and Noctis can feel magic cautiously poking his, and every switch in Noctis’s head goes MINE. MY LITTLE BROTHER NOW. And Ardyn could laugh himself sick if he wouldn’t have to explain why.

-Also everyone picture Ignis. Ignis who already has mothering instincts out the wazzoo. Ignis who loves Noctis to no end and now there’s a TINIER VERSION and that tiny version looks at him and goes “Iggy?” so hopefully and plaintively that Ignis is just- he’s gone. Goodbye.

-Iris gets to be Nox’s Shield. They are two of a kind as they grow up together and its great.

-Regis freaks out so hard the first Sick Day Nox has in the Citadel, and Ardyn looks so EXHAUSTED when he explains that this is normal and why it happens (too much magic in too small a body, he’ll grow out of it someday) and then Regis is so ANGRY over whoever made Nox too magical to be healthy.

-Ardyn and Regis brother bond over raising Nox.

-Gladio is just- “my brat bby brother now. MINE.”

-Prompto is still found early and adopted by Cor thanks to Ardyn, Prompto. ADORES. bby Nox. The Power of Cute compels you.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Little Nox verse

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

Note

"Person A is pregnant but finds out just before Person B has to gone on a six month long trip. When Person B returns Person A surprises them with their growing baby bump hilarity and confusion ensues" Maybe this one for Elliot and dad!Loki? have a great day sweetcheeks

combined with this request from @mylovelycrazyworld

summary: well…Elliot wanted a sibling. it’s about time he got one.

warnings: pregnancy stuff, a tiny hint of angst, missing Loki, fluff, and lots of Elliot silliness

a/n: FIRST OF ALL I AM SO PROUD OF THIS so i hope you e n j o y

sorry, second, i got waaay too carried away with this and suddenly its like a part of a wholeass story and yeah we’re gonna move this little storyline right along.

third i accidentally posted this before it was done a couple weeks ago so if you read it that time, i’m so sorry, this one is done and much better.

i’m also so sorry i’ve been gone lately. it’s been a crazy hectic last couple weeks so i haven’t had much time to sit down and finish writing anything! thanks for sticking around :)

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

Of course Loki had to leave this week, of all weeks.

Elliot’s taking the separation fairly well; Loki had left for Asgard with a kiss on the forehead, a tight hug, and a pretty serious request.

“You’ll take care of your mother for me while I’m away, won’t you?”

The little boy had promised, naturally, trying to look as serious and grown-up as he could, and even offered his hand to Loki for a handshake when he went in for a hug goodbye. Loki’s jaw had dropped in shock; then he pushed Elliot’s hand out of the way and swooped him up laughing into his arms for a tight, chaotic, firm hug.

So now you have a protective five year old fussing over you all day long, which is honestly worse than having a protective 1000+ year old fussing over you. He tries to do everything he sees Loki doing, everything he’s supposed to do to “take care of his mother:” like holding your hand in every possible situation, running up behind you and hugging the back of your legs, he’s even kissed your forehead at one point.

Loki’s trained him well.

But morning four of Loki being gone brings an unexpected turn. Elliot has been sleeping in your bed with you, wanting to keep you company—but mostly just missing the clone that Loki normally lets Elliot cuddle up with every night. This Tuesday morning, he’s laying across your stomach, happily sucking a thumb and drooling onto your shirt—well, technically it’s Loki’s.

It would’ve been nice to wake up and see his chubby little face all squished up with sleep, but you’re brutally shaken from your rest by a lurching stomach—you’re going to throw up, right now. You try to push Elliot off you as gently as you can, already retching as you shove him one last time, a little harder than you meant to, and he groggily sits up.

“Whasgoin’on?” He rubs the sleep from his eyes, but you’re already sprawled on the tiles in the adjacent bathroom floor, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. “Mom! No, mom, what’s wrong?!”

“S-stay—stay back,” you cough and wave him away just as before another retch doubles you over, chest heaving when it finally simmers down. “Just give me a second, okay? You don’t want to see this, bud.”

“But are you okay? You got really sick!” He rushes up behind you and starts rubbing your back with a cool little hand. “Ew, you smell kinda funny.”

“Gee, thanks, kiddo.”

“I’m just sayin’!” He holds his nose with one hand, using the other to wrap around your waist and lean into your side. “What does dad do to help you when you’re sick?”

You pull yourself up and over to lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath and running a hand through Elliot’s curls. “Uses his magic stuff to make me feel better…cuddles with me, just like you’re doing.” You smile weakly down at the little boy, and he quickly lays his little hands on your stomach. “No no no, don’t try it, it’s okay! I feel better!”

“Aw, man.” He sadly retracts his sparking hands—thank god—and nestles back into your side. “I’m getting gooder at my magic, ya know. Dad’s teachin’ me real good.”

“I don’t doubt it, Elliot,” you assure him with a light squeeze of a hug. “But you probably shouldn’t test out any of your magic on people, okay?”

He nods seriously, patting your stomach gently. “Good idea. I gotta be careful with your tummy now, too.”

“Don’t worry, buddy, this is just a bug. I’m already feeling better.”

Elliot shakes his head and crawls onto your lap, leaning down to put his ear to your stomach—what in the world? He listens for a moment and suddenly the wheels in your brain start turning: oh my god. This couldn’t mean…?

The little boy sits up again and feels your stomach one more time, focusing hard on something. “Nope, s’not a bug,” he smiles and gives your belly another gentle pat. “It’s just my baby tryna say hi.”

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

Six pregnancy tests later, there’s no doubt about it. How Elliot figured it out before you even had a hunch, you have no idea, but the little piece of plastic drops from your hand when you flop face-first onto the bed, mind swirling.

This isn’t a surprise.

Elliot had asked. Loki and you had talked, agreed; this is what you want. But really, baby?

Now?

Loki doesn’t get back for another four months. Pregnancies are hard; you’re not going to pretend they aren’t, and to not have your husband here to help you through it…this is going to be much different than when you were pregnant with Elliot.

You glance once more at the last test: positive as ever.

Pregnant. Again.

Sighing audibly, you roll over on the bed and grab Loki’s pillow, hugging it to your chest and breathing deeply, eyes drifting shut.

“We’re gonna be fine,” you whisper, your voice serving more to soothe your own racing mind than anything, “we’re gonna have another baby, and we’re gonna be fine.”

You bury your face in the pillow, hugging it tighter. It smells like Loki—heavenly.

That’ll have to do for the next four months.

* * * *

“What does dad wanna name the baby?”

The plastic fork scrapes against Elliot’s plate in grating anticipation of your answer. He’s picking at his lunch; his appetite hasn’t been quite so bottomless with Loki having been gone for so long.

For yours, on the other hand, the exact opposite is true.

“Dad…doesn’t know yet.” You rip another chunk of bread from the entire baguette in your hand and dip it in butter. This baby seems to have an appetite for seven and a particular fondness for carbs.

Wonderful.

“That’s ok,” Elliot nods thoughtfully. “Names are hard to come up with. I think it should be…blueberry! Cause I love blueberries so much and I love my baby—”

“No, no, I meant…” you struggle to swallow your mouthful of bread and hold up a finger. “Dad doesn’t know that we’re having a baby yet.”

“Why not?”

…yeah, that’s a good question. You probably should’ve called Loki a good while ago, when you’d found out you’re expecting—I mean, it’s his kid too.

But telling Loki he’s going to have a second child just seems like something you don’t do over the phone.

“I don’t want to miss his reaction,” you answer honestly, shoving another chunk of baguette in your mouth. “I wanna sh-uprise ��im when ‘e gets home.”

Translation: I’m terrified.

Elliot eagerly claps his hands together, the fork falling to the table with a clatter. “That’s a good idea!” He squeals, jumping up to run over and climb into your lap, laying his little hands on your belly. “Dad’s gonna be so excited to meet Blueberry, he’s gonna cry—”

“We are not naming this baby after a fruit. Sorry, kiddo.”

* * * *

An agonising two more months pass, lonely and chock-full of horrid cravings, mood swings, aches and pains and puking nearly every single morning…this baby already seems to hate you.

Elliot’s been a little trooper the past four months.

Hugs whenever you need them, plenty of crayon drawings of your family so you “don’t miss dad too much,” peace and quiet when you fall asleep at the table again, even a few attempted breakfasts in bed. He’s been so sweet and helpful when you know he misses his dad more than anything, so today you drag yourself out of bed, throw up once for good measure, and tell him to get ready for an ice cream trip.

Loki was supposed to be home a week ago, but you can’t let yourself think about that.

Driving with your little bump of a belly is starting to get really uncomfortable, but you make it alright to the little ice cream parlour that Elliot claims makes the best cotton candy ice cream of all time.

“I miss my dad,” Elliot pipes up while you’re sitting in silence, a faint bluish tint to his skin due to the coldness of the ice cream. “He shouldn’t hafta leave ever again.”

“Same here, kiddo, I’m sorry.” You lay a hand on your belly and try to give Elliot a reassuring smile. “This little monster misses him too, but they’re just glad that they have an awesome big brother to take care of them!”

That brings a halfhearted smile to the little boy’s face, and he goes back to licking his ice cream cone, watching you with reddish eyes deep in thought.

“Y’know, dad loves you, mom.” Elliot reaches over to take your hand in his tiny, sticky one, much to your surprise. “He loves you a whole lot, I know it, and he’s not gonna be angry that we’re havin’ another baby.”

Your jaw drops.

What the hell??

Your son, who is apparently getting some kind of crazy read on your thoughts right now, leans over the table and plants a sticky blue kiss to the back of your hand—just like he’s seen Loki do countless times. “Don’t be ‘fraid of him, he’s gonna be so super excited.”

Part of you kind of wants to run away screaming, but maybe mothers shouldn’t do that to their children, so you just gape like a dying fish at the strange little mini-Loki in front of you.

“I’m…I uh…” your mouth opens and closes a few times while your brain tries to catch up. “I’m not…I’m not scared of dad, Elliot, what makes you say that?”

You’re not…right?

Elliot licks his ice cream cone again, catching a drip down his arm. “Nah, you’re ‘voiding your ‘sponsibilities.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re scared to tell dad about Blueberry, right? I heard you in my dream, you told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the lie in his innocent statement. “But he—no, he won’t be upset, he wants another kid, he told me.”

This kid is ripping you to shreds, covered in blue and pink melted ice cream.

“S’what you told me,” Elliot shrugs. “Said dad’s gonna like one of us better.”

…you’ve got to pee again.

A blessed escape, cause if Elliot says one more word about Loki or this baby, you’re pretty sure your hormonal self is going to break down in tears.

“I’ll—I’ll be right back,” you choke, scooting your chair back with a loud scrape and pulling yourself to your feet. “Are you okay to stay here? I’ll only be a couple minutes right over there, no talking to strangers, you know the rules.”

Elliot nods, looking worried as you swipe at your eyes and set down your cup of ice cream with shaking hands. “You okay, mom?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back,” You mutter and rush off to the bathroom.

You certainly didn’t look fine, but Elliot shrugs to himself and goes back to his ice cream, keeping a wary eye on the other people in the shop.

“Did your mother just leave you out here all alone?”

Elliot spins around in his chair at the voice, dropping his ice cream cone to the floor and bringing his hands up ready to fight whoever is approaching him—Loki’s taught him enough to fend for himself.

But when he whirls around, he immediately lowers his hands and jumps out of his chair—it’s Loki.

“DAD!” Elliot scrambles out of the chair and bolts into Loki’s waiting arms, knocking him over with the force of his hug. “Dad, dad, you’re home! You’re home!!”

“That I am,” Loki laughs, hugging the little boy tightly to his chest. “I missed you so much, Elliot, so much.”

“Hey!” Elliot points a little finger into Loki’s chest, suddenly serious. “Don’t you ever leave us again, ‘kay??”

“Of course, I’m so sorry I had to—”

“Pinky promise??” Elliot shoves his little finger in Loki’s face, and the god chuckles, extending his own to seal the promise.

“Pinky promise. Hopefully.”

Satisfied with the agreement, Elliot jumps off his dad and rushes back to the table, frowning at the sticky mess that’s left of his ice cream on the floor. “You owe me an ice cream, dad, look whatcha made me do.”

“My sincerest apologies, young man,” Loki chuckles, swooping the kid up in his arms for another squirming hug, trying to sneak a few tickling kisses somewhere on his face. “Where is your mother?”

You come out of the bathroom just in time to hear Elliot answer “hidin’ from you, I think,” and you stop dead in the middle of the shop when you see your husband smiling wide and holding Elliot in his arms.

“Elliot! No I’m not!” You shake yourself out of your shocked daze, running over to the two of them and nearly knocking them over when you throw your arms around Loki’s neck.

Immediately setting Elliot back on the ground, Loki breathes your name and draws you into the tightest embrace he can manage, his arms clutching you so close you have to plant your hands on his chest and gently push him away to keep him from hurting your belly.

He doesn’t seem to notice, but Elliot sure does.

Loki’s hands cradle your face as he pulls away and just stares at you for a moment, trying to decide if words could even begin to describe how happy he is to be with you again.

“I missed…oh, come here.”

He laughs with watering eyes and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours over and over until neither of you can breathe, half laughing, half teary-eyed because he’s here, you’re all here, together finally.

“That was—mmph—too long,” you laugh around Loki’s relentless lips, keeping a hand to his chest to keep him from your baby bump.

Elliot bounces on the balls of his feet, glad to see his parents so happy again, but sticks a hand between you both to cover your belly. “Careful, dad, don’t hurt my b—”

“ELLIOT!” You cut him off with a nervous chuckle, shooting him a pointed look—shh!

The little boy claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Loki asks with a breathless laugh, his hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him.

“Nothing, nothing,” you assure him, kissing him again. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re home, Loki. Tell us everything!”

He holds you away from him for a moment with his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down with a dopey grin on his face—you’re really glad you wore a too-big shirt today, it covers your beginning baby bump pretty well.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief—he missed you. His eyes fall on your chest and linger for a half a second longer; your breasts seem…bigger than when he left.

Trust me, he would know.

But he shakes it away and pulls up a chair, and the three of you launch into a detailed retelling of everything you’ve missed over the past four months.

“Well, everything went wrong the moment I stepped foot in Asgard.” He leans forward, eager to tell his story. “There had been an attempt on the relics, and rumours of more to come, so we had to—what’s so funny?”

Elliot’s covering his mouth with a sticky hand, desperately trying to muffle the giggle-fit overcoming him as he looks at you: you’re clutching your stomach with an extremely pained grimace, trying to get comfortable in the little metal chair.

“Nothin’…” he snorts and quickly looks away from you when you glare at him. “What happened next, dad?”

“Okay…” Loki shoots you a confused glance and you quickly grin back, trying not to look like there’s a tiny human laying directly on your bladder right now.

How’s that working out for you?

“Are you alright, my love? You look like you’re in pain.”

“Just a stomachache!” Your gritted laughter is nervous but hopefully convincing enough.

“Are you sure? Just tell me, darling, I can disspell the sickness in less than a second—Elliot!” He whirls around in his chair to glare halfheartedly at the little boy giggling again. “Your mother is in pain, why are you smiling??”

“‘Cause I know something you don’t know,” Elliot sings, clapping his hands with glee and wiggling around in his seat. “Mhm, I’ve got a secret, ‘n I’m not tellin’—”

“Elliot. That’s enough.”

You reach over and pull the little guy into your lap, clamping both hands over his mouth and smiling sweetly at your husband—who just looks very confused. And a little worried.

He’s made it pretty clear that there would be no secrets in this little family of yours.

“Our son…has a secret?” Speaking to you, not Elliot, he raises an eyebrow and it’s not exactly amused. “Care to enlighten me, wife?��

“Don’t worry, Loki, it’s not a secret,” you sooth, tapping Elliot’s mouth twice before letting him go again. “It’s more of…a surprise, really.”

Elliot clasps his hand behind his back and rocks forward on his toes, excited eyes darting back and forth between you and Loki.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“But you’re really gonna like this one,” Elliot promises, sending an overly dramatic attempt of a wink your way.

Unbelievable.

Letting out a dismayed groan, you drop your forehead to your hand. “Elliot, please stop…”

Loki crosses his arms, already looking a little on the defensive side with lips tightly pressed together—this is exactly why you didn’t want to tell him. Way to go, kid.

“If you have something to tell me, tell me now.”

“I—can I tell you at home? Later?”

The god sighs, not able to help feeling as if the joy of your reunion had been let out faster than the air in a deflating balloon—now he’s worried, feeling excluded, almost offended.

Secrets. Never a good idea within a family.

“Don’t worry, snowflake,” you chirp with feigned nonchalance. “You’re gonna love this surprise.”

Your fingers cross under the table.

* * * *

Loki doesn’t bring it up the rest of the day.

You’d guessed he would mention it again at least during dinner, try to pry the information from you, but he smiled and listened to Elliot talk about his loose tooth, eating his food apparently unbothered.

Your knee hasn’t stopped nervously bouncing since you sat down.

Maybe he knows? If Elliot felt it, Loki certainly could. The kid’s voice is still echoing through your mind as you get Elliot ready for bed:

“You told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

Okay, maybe you’re a little worried that Loki’s past may hinder his enthusiasm for a second child, but you’ve never even admitted to yourself that he would be upset or scared. But the more you think about it, the more sense it makes: he would be terrified.

Favouring one child over another? That would be Loki’s worst nightmare, yet he hadn’t brought that up when Elliot first asked for a sibling. He’d happily agreed to have a second kid, kissing away your concerns…

Hugging your arms around yourself, you stare at his back from the doorway. His hair is lazy, pulled into a mindless knot on the top of his head; he looks relaxed, doing dishes. At peace with his life.

His life with his wife and his one son.

Did he lie to you?

Had he looked you in the eye, said “I want another baby,” and lied?

God of lies, you keep letting yourself forget.

Your mind goes berserk right there in the kitchen, convincing you that he lied to you, that this baby is unwanted, that he only said that he wanted another baby to keep you happy, that no, he didn’t ever want children, he just wanted to fuck you, that everything he’s ever said to you is a lie—

“Your thoughts are deafening, my love.”

You jump with a start as his voice interrupts your destructive train of thought. “Were you listening?” You immediately ask, voice venomous. “Loki, did you listen?”

He turns around and dries off his hands, leaning back against the counter with a sad smile. “Of course not, out of respect for your secret. I trust you to tell me.”

You stare at him, unmoving and unsure, and he pushes himself away from the counter to take a few tentative steps toward you. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, sensing your troubled mind. “You need rest, then you can tell me this secret when you are ready.”

Nodding slowly, you let him take your hand and lead you to the bedroom, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He shuts the door behind you and you walk straight to the bed, laying down and turning your back on him to avoid this as long as possible.

“Don’t you want to change first?” Loki laughs, and the mattress dips as he climbs on next to you, laying right against your body and pulling you back into him. “Those pants can’t be comfortable, let me get them off of you.”

You shake your head—horny, lying bastard.

“…would you like me to draw you a bath?” He’s trying a gentler approach now, noticing your apprehension and holding you closer.

Another shake of the head.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Your hand subconsciously falls to your little baby bump, but Loki’s follows right after to cover your own hand with his.

You’re sick of this—just tell him.

You slip your hand out from under his, grab his wrist, and press it to your belly. His breath catches in his throat, you can hear it, and his cold hand gently runs across the swell of your stomach.

“What is this?”

Just say it.

“I’m pregnant.”

He sits straight up behind you and you screw your eyes shut—he’s going to leave now, right?

But he doesn’t leave; instead cold hands grip your waist and pull you onto your back, catching the hem of your shirt and promptly ripping it from your body.

“Loki!”

He looms over you, knees on either side of your body as he stares down at you. His eyes are wide and a distracted hand rubs over his mouth, trying to process this.

“How long have you known?” His voice is barely a breath.

“…four months.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

The hurt on his beautiful face is a sucker punch to the gut—you idiot, of course he wouldn’t be upset. This is Loki we’re talking about, your husband, the father of your child—children.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise quietly, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t…I thought you-you would be upset.”

He breathes a laugh and carefully runs his fingertips down your sides, trying to memorise the sight of you carrying his child…again.

“Why would I ever be upset, my love? I can’t believe you’re this pregnant and you didn’t tell me—”

“Elliot said something,” you anxiously cut him off. “It was stupid, really, I’m stupid for believing it…” you take a breath and ramble on. “He said he had a dream you got upset about having two kids cause you might like one more than the other.”

Loki pauses his kissing down your torso, freezing with his hand splayed across your baby bump. “How did he…”

“I dunno. He was freaking me out, Loki, he started telling me things I wasn’t even thinking yet.”

“That’s my boy,” the god laughs, resting his forehead on your stomach as your brow knits in concern.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you nudge Loki’s head up to look at you. “This doesn’t worry you?”

“Our son turns blue when he touches something cold.” He presses his lips to your stomach again, eyes tightly shut. “I’m afraid your family isn’t exactly the epitome of human normalcy.”

“Yeah, but Loki, was he right?”

“That I’m scared?” He trails his lips up your baby bump, over your chest and coming to rest firmly over your mouth. “My love…I am terrified.”

“Oh.”

Your arms wind around his neck and pull him back down to your lips—maybe if you keep kissing him, he won’t be able to see the disappointment in your eyes.

It works for a little bit, and you nearly lose yourself completely when he starts gently nipping at your lips and moving to tend to your neck; he’s making you drunk on him with the flip of a switch.

It’s too easy for him.

“Loki.” Your hands curl tighter in his hair.

“Hmm.”

“Then why did you tell me you wanted another kid?”

The god pauses, moving from your collarbone back to your face to frown down at you. His fingers are cold along your jaw. “Because I do want another kid.”

“But you’re terrified.”

“And you’re not?”

That makes your mouth snap shut, eyes darting around the room to avoid his piercing gaze. Of course you’re nervous, it’s not like you have any better ideas of how to raise a child—and you’re the one carrying it, for god’s sake.

“I don’t think I need to say more.” Loki smiles, soft and edging closer to the sad end of the spectrum. “I’m always scared. Of you, of my son…and now my second child.”

You still can’t look at him. Shame, maybe.

“I’m terrified of you, did you know that?” He’s kissing you again, lazy lips soft along the outline of your own, up and down your jaw. “Terrified of you, our future, our children. I could lose you in seconds.”

“That’s optimistic.” You try for a cracked smile.

Cool lips meet yours, firm as his hand traces over your baby bump. “It’s realistic, actually. Keeps me honest with myself.”

“We’re not leaving you, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“But I don’t deserve for you to stay.”

Here we go again.

“Why do you always do this??” You force a playful smile onto your face and sit up, a hand on Loki’s chest pushing him off of you onto the bed. “There you go hating yourself again, sheesh.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you roll over halfway on top of him and mold your lips to his—his, parted slightly in surprise. Your hands cradle his face, stroking through his hair and over his cheekbones as you pour every ounce of adoration you possess for him into the kiss.

Then it really clicks, just how much you missed him.

Maybe that’s why you feel this…disconnect.

Within seconds his shirt is off too, your hands scouring every inch of his skin you can reach, Loki’s breathing becoming shallower as he fumbles with belts and tries to hold your face to his at the same time.

“Missed you,” he whispers hoarsely, giving up on the belt and falling into you, shaking hands holding your neck and waist in a death grip. “My family, I missed you both, and this new one—”

His voice cracks and he moves down, littering every inch of you with kisses that come to rest on the swell of your stomach as his hands hold tight to your hips.

“I’m beyond excited.” It’s nothing more than a whisper. “Terrified, scared out of my mind, but I am so, so happy our family is growing.”

“You sure?” You tangle your fingers in his hair and tip his head up to smile down at him.

“Do I need to prove it?”

God, you missed him.

You grab hold of his face and pull him up, smashing your lips to his. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

So he does.

At least, he tries, until a yell for dad echoes down the hall.

“Good to see nothing has changed,” Loki sighs, pressing one last kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t you go anywhere, we’re not done here.”

You throw a pillow at him with a laugh as he winks and slips out the door.

Elliot is awake, as expected, sitting in his bed clutching the blankets to his chest, a strangely bright smile on his little face. “Hey dad!”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Hey…”

“You awake?”

“I am now, clearly.” He sits on the edge of the bed and plants a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “Why did you call for me?”

The little boy shrugs. “Just wonderin’.”

“…if I was awake?”

“Yup.”

They stare at each other for a second—

—Loki confused and battling with the fact that he just had to leave you on the bed to come take care of this kid, and Elliot scrunching his nose up in the biggest grin at his dad, just happy to see him.

“I’m…going to go back to bed now.” Loki points at the door, giving his son a strange look. “Unless you have literally anything else to tell me? Redeem my coming in here?”

“Nope!” Elliot throws his arms out in a request for a hug.

…that Loki all too happily delivers.

“Oh! Did mom tell you the secret yet?” He whispers, squeezing Loki tighter with arms thrown around his neck.

“She did,” Loki chuckles. “Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait! We’re gonna be bestest friends and I’m naming it Blueberry cause I love blueberries and I love my baby so I’m gonna—”

“Blueberry??”

“Yeah!”

Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “Blueberry Lokason. A name for the ages, without a doubt.”

Elliot beams at his father’s approval and Loki ruffles a hand through his curly hair. “Come on, go to sleep. You shouldn’t be awake right now.”

“Well you guys woke me up…” he grumbles, flopping down on his pillow.

Not again. Loki freezes, face twisting in worry—you hadn’t even started. If that was too loud, then by the end of the night the whole neighbourhood is going to be awake. “Were we being too loud?”

“Nah.” A little smile spreads over the kid’s face. “Mom’s just happy, real happy, and it woke me up.”

“You…you can feel that?”

“Yup. Just like you.” He nuzzles deeper into his pillow. “Thought’ya might wanna know, dad, ‘case you forgot.”

With a face as precious as that, Loki doesn’t have the heart to tell him that’s not just like him…that’s not exactly how his access to the mind works, but the last thing Elliot needs is another reason to believe he’s unusual.

“In case I forgot what, Elliot?” He smiles and kisses the boy’s forehead, running a hand through his hair.

“How to tell when mom’s happy!” He opens his eyes and rolls onto his back, grinning up at Loki. “I almost forgotted too, she’s been sad so long. S’why I woke up!”

“Well.” Loki’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “Thank you. I think I remember now.”

“I gotcha covered, daddy.”

“Go to sleep, little giant.”

* * * * * * * *

The walk down the hall back to the room leaves Loki wondering.

He…felt it.

The kid could tell you were pregnant before you even knew, he could tell that you were nervous to tell Loki, he knew that Loki was scared before he’d admitted it to you…now he felt that you were happy? Strong enough to wake him up?

Apparently Elliot can do a lot more than just turn blue.

The thought of that is terrifying.

All Loki can think of as his hand rests hesitantly on the doorknob is what he’s done. What he’s passed on to this child, unwillingly taking another life down with his own curses.

Elliot’s life is going to be full of pain, if this is what he is capable of. It’s bad enough that he has no control over the shifting of his skin, no thanks to the fruitless attempts Loki has made to figure out how to help him, but now…

Loki starts when you open the door.

“What’d he need?”

You’re smiling—happy, Loki can tell this time. He silently thanks Elliot for the reminder.

“A hug.” He quickly smiles back. “Wanted to know if I was awake…the usual midnight Elliot inquiries.”

“Can I get one?”

You hold your arms out and grin, giddy and irresistibly bright, and Loki steps forward to sweep you into his arms.

“I’ll give you a bit extra, too,” he chuckles, peppering your neck with light kisses as he walks you backward towards the bed. Your knees hit the edge and you fall onto the mattress, grabbing him behind the neck to bring him down with you.

An arm by your head to keep him hovering over you, Loki pauses, just smiling down at you as a few lingering laughs leave your lips.

“Are you happy, my love?”

Cold fingers run down your cheek and he leans down, brushing his lips against yours.

“Of course I am,” you mumble, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him close. “You’re home, I’ve got the best little kid sleeping down the hall, and we’ve got another one on the way.” Another peck on the lips. “I’m way past happy, snowflake.”

“Good,” he whispers, and decides that’s going to be enough for him.

That’ll be enough for all four of you.

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

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @little-scintilla @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #dad!loki #loki x pregnant!reader #loki x reader fluff #loki imagine #loki requests #loki drabbles #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #elliot lokason #elliot lokison

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magic5ball · 4 years ago

Text

Nature Trail to Hell Arc IV: Megamart of Darkness (9)

Chapter 9: Dropping the A-Bomb

I just stood there, having no idea what to say or do. It was like looking in a mirror at the grim, jaded hump of crap you know you’re going to be in ten years if the scholarship doesn’t work out. It was a sight that would bring most grown men to their knees, so considering I was a little kid at the time, it was a wonder I was even standing at all.

Yet somehow, I managed to spit words.

“T-the water.” I trembled, “g-give it back.”

He looked at the glowing plastic bottle in his hand. “Sorry kid, no can do. This here’s company property now. But if you want, I’m more than willing to sit down for an adult conversation.”

The way he said those last two words made my blood freeze, no small task when the ‘sun’ was shining so bright overhead.

He gestured over to an area at the foot of the inflatable volcano, where two plastic chairs and a table rested. On top of the table were several Red Solo cups and a bottle of Crystal Springs Bottled Water.

“Like I said, its’ been awhile since I’ve had company. Besides the Wegmart Company, that is! Ha!”

My feeble ten year old mind struggled to grapple with the fact that someday I would find jokes like that funny. One of the most horrible experiences of my life.

But what could I do? Thanks to stories from my gangster days, I knew darn well what this A-Bomb was capable of, and I wasn’t really in a position to take chances. So I followed him to the tables, trying not to think about how Bokrug should have been here by now, despite his lumbering movements.

Naturally, I didn’t make a peep. If there’s one thing I learned from comic books, its’ best not to set these friendly-lookin’ types off.

When we did get to that table, first thing the guy did was offer me some of that crisp, refreshing, bottled water. Though the heat from the lava made it really tempting, I knew I’d never be able to live with myself if I did.

“Suit yourself, kiddo.” He said, pouring a cup of his own. “We aren’t that different, you know. In fact, you’re a lot like me when I was little…”

On the outside, I stared like the teacher was about to bring the whipping stick. On the inside, I wanted to scream, because long talks with my Dad had taught me where this was going.

. . .

“When I was your age, I also went to a Summer Camp, it was called Camp Salmon or something like that. Anyway, the counselors running the camp were mean. Like, really, really mean, so the second I could I dashed right on out of there and into the woods. Sound familiar?”

Naturally, I didn’t say a word. Throat was too parched, anyway. A-Bomb laughed.

“Oh who am I kidding?! Of course it does! I know because Wegmart has surveillance cameras everywhere!”

He pressed something under the table, and from the ground emerged a device made from a bunch of big screen T.V.s hastily duct taped together, several flashing images of my adventures over the summer. The rest showed the frozen foods aisle, where my feathered allies were getting ‘ahem’, ‘cleaned up’ in the most gruesome way possible.

“Like you, Watterson Tostig, I went into the underworld and escaped. I too, was inducted into a gang of dinosaurs. I, too, became God of Roadside America. But at the end of the day, guys like us have to settle down and face reality. Wegmart saved me, kid, and if you’re willing, it’ll save you too.”

All that time, I didn’t turn away from the screen. I couldn’t.

“I thought I could spend the rest of my life hiding in the produce aisle. But I was foolish back then, a rogue vagrant eating grapefruit peels. Until THEY rescued we. The founders of Wegmart took my withered ghost and showed me the way to love, happiness, and most importantly, low, low prices!”

Yeah, yeah. The low, low price of a human soul!

“I was weak at first, but the kind folks at Wegmart saw my talents as a brown bagger and before I knew it, I had my own private toothpick in the faculty room! After that, they put me into production.”

Here’s the thing about young me being stoic: even at the best of times, he was kinda bad at it. Sometimes I even wonder if he had some kind of attention deficit. Not saying little me cocked an eyebrow at the mention of ‘production’, but he looked at me like I did before he went on yammering again.

“Oh yeah! You’re not in the know of company business. Right! See, our store used to have a 3D printer they would use to take the employee of the month and just clone him until they had an entire staff of the perfect worker! And yours truly has held the position for ten years!”

Ever since I was young enough to confuse Wegmart with Disneyland, I’d always noticed how all the brown baggers looked the same. Suddenly, everything made terrible, terrible sense. But worse was the realization that, just like those cereal box sweepstakes, the empty, dotted line cutout of a man could have easily been me!

“Shame they recalled the printer. Something about lead based ink. Or the clones having higher than normal rates of cancer. Really, I just signed the paperwork. But enough of the sad stuff, Watters! Let’s talk future! Because I’ve seen you in action and man, you’re just the kind of spunk to breathe life into this company!”

Least, I think that’s what he said. Bokrug’s running tardy was really nerving me up.

“So join me, Watterson! And let us rule the Wegmart like manager and employee!”

“No.” I whispered.

“Eh?” A-Bomb cocked an eyebrow, like he’d never heard the word in years.

And with that, I could stay silent no longer. The anger, the one that’d been boiling so steadily I me like the giant volcano we sat at the foot of, went full Krakatoa!

“Are you deaf, poophead?! I said NO!. And you know why? Because all you did was make a giant self-pity sob story for yourself, because you think that if you can drag me down with you into this Megamart of Darkness, you’ll feel better about stealing water from a bunch of geese! I’m pretty sure you could have gotten some from Rite Aid if you were willing to play fair!”

“Rite Aid doesn’t sell-“

“My point is, you’re just jealous of me because I’m not a cog in the machine like you! And that ‘we’re so alike’ bullcrap wouldn’t work on a five year old! So no, I won’t join you, because I might have sold my soul to a Tako Shak, but even I have stinking standards, you self-pitying TURD!”

A-Bomb stared at me, mouth agape for a few seconds. “T-the T-word?...”

“You heard me right, TURD!, so you better let me go unless you want more of the same! I’ll even tell my Mom, and you really don’t want to see her when she’s angry!”

“No, no, I get it…” he pushed a button under the table.

Another hole opened in the ground, and from it emerged what I can only describe as a nuclear missile made entirely of fuzzy orange Shampows.

“Your friends and family are holding you back, little bro! So how about I sweeten the deal: you join me, and I don’t rain Shampow down on your entire neighborhood!”

I tried to move, only to find myself stuck to my seat. Literally. The son of a snitch must have superglued the thing beforehand!

“So, do we have a deal?”

I didn’t say a word.

“Do. We. Have. A. Deal?”

Now I might have been a bit of a turd back in the day, but darn it, I couldn’t let an entire neighborhood get wiped from existence! Especially when the neighbor hadn’t even returned out lawnmower yet!

“Okay! Okay! I’ll join you! I’ll be your whipping boy. I’ll even stock Barbie dolls if I have to! Just don’t press hat button!”

And you know what the prick did? He kept putting his finger closer and closer to the launch button!

“But I thought you said you wouldn’t do it if I joined!”

“Foolish Watt! Your petty loyalties to the neighborhood make you weak! We must purge this from your mind so you can know true Wegmart! Just like my manager did to my neighborhood!”

But you know what the worst part was? He said this using the most condescending, prickish voice I could imagine.

Still, one thing needed clearing up.

“Hey A-Bomb? What was your neighborhood?”

Guy didn’t say a word, but the way he shut up after that spoke plenty.

“… They called it New Jersey.” He whispered.

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well it might be the last time I ever express sarcasm. Of course!

Time slowed to a crawl as I waited on the imminent destruction of everything I ever gave a crap about. Oh, I tried to see things from the half full perspective, but not even the knowledge my douchebag brother was probably going to get caught dab smack in the middle of the detonation zone passed out on the couch watching teen drama reruns could compensate for everything. At least A-Bomb was taking his sweet time pressing, probably so he could rub it in more.

In fact, he was taking a lot of sweet time. (Granted five minutes is pretty long for a ten year old, but still!) Then I noticed he was pressing the detonation button multiple times, each time faster and more flustered. I looked up, wondering if the Lord himself had intervened on behalf of little old me, even after everything.

In fact, my salvation had come in the form of a certain goose, who grinned triumphantly, a plug and wire in his beak, machine gun cradled in his wings.

“Bokrug!”

The noble bird spit out the plug, beaming with triumph despite being so plucked of feathers he was practically naked. A-Bomb was, on the other hand, for the first time since I saw him feeling something other than calm, collected, or several other words you find in yoga advertisements. His face turned so red I figured he’d explode any minute, just like his namesake.

“YOU!” he leapt up from his seat, facing down the glorious gander. ”I had ONE chance to find happiness! ONE chance to have somebody to share this miserable job! Years of planning, plotting, scheming, and with one bite you ruined it!” He unsheathed those golf clubs from his back. “Do you know what its’ like to run a store with only clones of yourself?! With everyone knowing exactly what you do?! Its’ so, so BOORIIINNGGG!”

“Then perhaps you should have found a happiness that did not require the suffering of another.” He bared his beak, bits of Wegmart technology still stuck in them. “Or technology easily damaged by the humblest of beaks.” like he was emphasizing the point, he cocked the machine gun, maing probably the world’s most satisfying click.

“Who do you think you are, my Mom?!” He spun his golf clubs around, making a combination of kung-fu poses and noises that could only be described as either really stupid or really racist. Possibly both.

“Bokrug-kun! You have brought great dishonor upon my house. Prepare to die!” he cried in the phoniest Japanese accent I ever heard.

“I’m Egyptian, you a$$hole!”

With a guttural roar, the waterfowl from hell charged in kind, raining bullets like hellfire.

It was the awesomest f*cking thing I ever saw.

#My writing #Nature Trail To Hell #supermarket #geese

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tonystarkbingo · 5 years ago

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Tony Stark Bingo Party Prompt Meme

http://generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=25057 -- we took tags from this random generator and then made up more detailed prompts from them. These prompts are open use, even if you’re not participating in the bingo, but please tag us if you write one, we’d LOVE to see what you did with it! nonsense + everyone is gay + denial : Tony+harem - Tony, while an incorrigible flirt, does not believe that anyone actually likes him, let alone as many as do. They come up with increasingly ridiculous ideas to ask him out or at least let him know they like him, while he innocently thinks they're all just such awesome friends superpowers + bodice-ripper + sad Stuckony - something set in the Regency(ish) era but with secret superpowers as an added bonus. Let’s of angst over trying to hide their secret powers, and wanting to save people without revealing themselves and also cause they’re gay. clones + nighttime + wishes Coulson/Strange (StrangeAgent? AgentStrange? DrAgent?) - Coulson ends up spending the night in the NY Sanctum. Some of the artifacts happen to be particularly sensitive to subconscious fantasies... and isn't it lucky that cloning himself happens to be one of Strange's powers? cruising + flashbacks + bad boys Winteriron possible future Stuckony - small warning for drinking mention - Tony is driving around to distract himself so he doesn't get drunk. He gets in an accident because he is not actually in a state to drive. The accident is comparatively harmless, the flashback to his convoy being attacked in Afghanistan is less so. When Tony wakes up in the hospital he learns that the person who dragged him from his car to safety is one James "Bucky" Barnes, resident motorbike riding bad boy heartthrob and friend/visitor of Steve "regular ER customer" Rogers, who's his hospital roommate. room service + lifeguards + sharing Tony is a lifeguard who takes his job very seriously. He's attending a convention-slash-training seminar at a posh uptown hotel, but then there's a knock at the door. He opens it to find two room service carts, both with order slips on them that indicate they're actually destined for another room. Rather than call the obviously harried and beleaguered bellboy back, he pushes them down the hall himself and knocks on the door... which is answered by none other than the hot beefcake fellow-lifeguard that's been distracting Tony all day. They end up sharing the enormous amount of food... and then maybe some more. :wink: overthinking + pity sex + customer service Tony just turned 40, he's been friends with Bucky and Nat for forever, and they'd been each other's marriage backups for the longest time, like, if they weren't married at 40, they'd marry whoever wasn't married either in their little trio. Only, two years prior, Buckynat became husband and wife and so he's having a little pity party on his floor at the Tower, drinking virgin mojitos and seriously consider a particular customer service to cheer himself up in one way or another - might as well get an orgasm, as shitty and sad as it may be, it's his birthday ffs - but then Bucky and Nat appear in his elevator, and they pull him off the couch he's been sprawled on for three hours, and Nat is the first to kiss him, and he's too stunned to react much but when he does question wtf is happening, Bucky shushes him and Tony lets him. The next morning he is evidently convinced it was all just pity sex, or a kink of theirs or whatever.... certainly nothing to do with the fact that they've been courting him forever and got tired of waiting for him to step out of ObliviousStarklandia. Of course not. wolves + romantic friendship + wigs Okay, so, someone has been doing an excellent job of hiding his baldness from someone else, with whom he's been in a long term best-friends-but-in-love not-quite-relationship. He's got an elaborate series of wigs, and over the years he's gradually been replacing them with slightly more grey ones so that someone else doesn't realise. Aaaand then someone gets bitten by a werewolf, and when he shifts for the first time he is completely bald and the secret is out. accidental relationship + butt dialing + warlocks Tony Stark is not happy with today's mission, not like there's an occasion to enjoy dealing with magic. But now he's in a relationship with Bucky, which is not bad, that man is gorgeous, but this is not the way. He's ranting about it to Jarvis and doesn't realize that he sat on his phone nor that he dialed the other supersoldier in the team until he hears a muffled laugh beneath him. He's going to kill that warlock smuggling + fear + road-trip okay, a Star Wars AU. Farmboy Peter is fleeing from stormtroopers who found out his parents were Jedi. He runs into smuggler Tony and they take off in Tony's ship for an extended road trip in space. possession + loving marriage + gardens & gardening Pepperony, Morgan insists there's a spirit possessing the garden because she's seen the plants dancing. Turns out they've accidentally created sentient plants and Tony is like nope, call somebody else, I do mechanical engineering and they call Dr. Cho to fix it. The marriage is in there somewhere I promise idiots in love + bonding + resurrection Ironhawk - Clint tries to get Lucky back after he goes over the rainbow bridge, but he can’t actually read latin and ends up bringing back Tony from the 18th century. And poor Tony gets Clint as his guide to the 21st. Shenanigans and eventual fluffy ending improv + cultural appropriation + shield maidens After the Battle of New York, Tony's interviewing Thor about Asguardian tech and learns that they have all kinds of shielding devices, and gets interested in trying to replicate what Thor describes just in case aliens decide to pay a call on Earth again. Thor, for his part, is kinda shocked that Earth doesn't have any such shields, though on the other hand it is Midguard, so. You know. Tony gives it a shot and a couple weeks later he's launching the satellites into orbit for a preliminary test of the shields. He intends to test them with SI tech developed from seized Chitauri tech, but before he can get the chance an alien army shows up, guns blazing and very mad about something. The shields hold, thankfully, and the aliens send a strongly worded letter informing him that he has infringed upon their religious and cultural traditions by putting the Stark logo on them. Their planet was visited centuries ago by time-travelers that greatly influenced their culture, religion, government, etc. These time travelers carried devices with that same Stark Logo on them. The Stark Logo has become a complex cultural symbol over the centuries, and they don't appreciate him using it on war tech, even if on shields. Eventually, they figure out that the time travelers' tech was Tony's tech, and agree to leave in peace, but only after Tony spends a terrifying couple of days trying to improvise his way through a diplomatic disaster with an alien power. vampire family + slapstick + loss WinterIronWidow: So, Natasha's been a vampire for a long time, and she's lonely, so she decides to take on some mates, enter established relationship WinterIron. She vampirises them, which leads to Tony having fits about GARLIC and my god, I'm ITALIAN, you horrible woman! And Bucky's like "I'm... CATHOLIC?? OM-- I can't even say G-- now??" awkwardness + chatting & messaging + shyness Tony doesn't understand why everytime Bucky comes into the lab, Dum-E tends to drop whatever he's holding and go hide in his charging station. Dum-E's always a bit clumsy and silly but this is more than usual and Tony's worried that Dum-E doesn't like Bucky or something like that. Anyway after much discussion, with JARVIS as translator and go-between, it turns out that Dum-E has developed a bit of a crush on Bucky's fancy robotic arm. Which ends up of course being a hilarious & awkward situation for all involved. candles + explosions + blind date tony gets bullied by pepper to go on a blind date to get out of his funk, she insists that this Matt Murdock character is the perfect date and Tony will like him. reluctantly tony goes to fancy restaurant and meets Matt Murdock and they hit it off instantly the little snarky assholes. they have a nice dinner by candle light and it's all going so well up until dessert when they order some kind of chocolate lava cake which was tragically not cooked properly and ends up exploding on both of them and bam they fall in love and live happily ever after skeleton puns + reincarnation + deus ex machina A snap, that was all it took to snuff out something so bright amidst the rubble of what was once New York City, and, with Tony gone for good, the living seem rather, well…dead. Until, one day, someone they all thought long dead returned to them, a blue cube glowing in his grip and a sweet promise of a new beginning dripping from his lips. But of course, no new beginning comes without a price laundry + tenderness + dialogue “I hate laundry,” Morgan declared after trying to refold her sweatshirt for the seventh time. “Me too kiddo,” Tony whispered back, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to Pepper who was putting clothes into the wash. “But that’s why we do it together. It gets done and we don't have to do it alone.” world domination + paranoia + everything hurts Tony knew what was coming, he knew. He’d seen the future and he knew. The Kree were coming - why would no one believe him? Not his husband, not the team, not even his own son. He kept convincing them they had to suit up and defend the planet and Steve and Peter kept telling him that a engineering professor from Cal Tech can’t do that, that this suit he talks about is only in his delusions. But he’s not paranoid. Or crazy. Or any of those other words. He is Iron Man. He just has to convince everyone else. feels + useless lesbians + Santa's workshop Toni doesn’t think anyone could accuse her of overflowing with Christmas spirit. That hasn’t stopped the rest of the Avengers from turning the “festive cheer” dial up to eleven, and Toni thinks she might just have to spend the whole next month hiding in her workshop. (Hey, she let DUM-E wear a Santa hat – that has to count for something.) Too bad Jamie Barnes – cyborg superassassin extraordinaire, Captain America’s best friend, and Toni’s big gay crush – has gotten the exact same idea. Now the rest of the team thinks they��ve got a “thing,” and Toni can’t decide which is worse: putting up with the Avengers’ not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, or spending all her time with the woman she loves and who she is absolutely, 100%, totally certain doesn’t reciprocate. Getting through this holiday season without having her heart broken might just take… a Christmas miracle. shapeshifting + secret organizations + nurses “C. Barton - Orderly.” That’s what his tag said. But only a very few people knew exactly what kind of hospital Saint Natalis actually was, and just how busy they could be during the full moon. kissing games + pirates + book stores Tony always thought that the shop had a mind of its own. The books were one thing, whispering their secrets to patrons who managed to find their way to it. Jarvis always did warn him not to touch any of the artifacts. The "DO NOT TOUCH" signs plastered all over the crates. So maybe it was his fault that he managed to summon 'Buccaneer Barnes' after touching the shiny pirate sword. "Let's play a game. If you win, I'll help you put all those runaway monsters that jumped out of the books. If I win, you owe me a kiss. Whatdaya say Stark?"

#TonyStarkBingo2020 #prompt meme #party games

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kyberphilosopher · 5 years ago

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Chapter Seventeen

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“You know, some members of the crew were starting to think you weren’t coming back,” Adamus says. He leans against one of the pillars on the ramp, arms crossed as he watches me come closer. His brown locks move slightly with the wind, his cheeks tinged with pink from the cold. It’s then that I’m able to gage out how long his hair actually is. Not terribly, but it may reach his shoulders when wet. Regardless, Adamus is unphased by the cold. He does not shiver, nor buckle.

Yes, I decided to come back. I can’t explain why. One minute, I was watching my golden saber dance, trying to choke back the realization that I’d never be able to lose my memory of the Clone now. But then I’d clipped it to my belt and walked out the door.

“But you didn’t?” I challenge, watching his eyes that are focused on the distance. My new lightsaber hits against my hip with each step, the weight lighter than I’m used to.

The snow seems to calm and slow as I draw nearer to Adamus, though I’m certain it’s just a trick of my eyes. I’m forced to take in his profile- the sharp jaw, the bright irises, the tufts of soft hair coming to a still.

“Of course not,” he says, turning his head to me. There they are- those forever color changing eyes. So bright and piercing, even from my distance. His hair is dusted with snow and the climate has made a few light freckles more noticeable against his skin. “Get a new toy?” He nudges his head to the lightsaber on my hip.

Out of reflex, my gaze drops to his own saber. It hangs against his right thigh, heavy and smooth. I detach my own, running my eyes over the smooth metal. Truly my best work. I toss it into the air lightly before catching it, meeting Adamus’s eyes with a little smirk.

He stands up straight, rolls his eyes, and unfolds his arms. “Come on, we’d better talk now before you change your mind about coming back.”

As soon as the door shuts behind us, I am enveloped in the red arms of Aheka. “Keres!” she cries, nearly knocking me over. Her skin feels hot and smells like medicine and flowers. Adamus stops his strut in front of me to turn around and witness the scene.

This is a hug. We’re hugging. Do something with your arms Keres! Should I hug her back? No, no stop! That looks weird, Keres!

“I was worried you weren’t going to come back. You were gone for over nineteen rotations.”

Nineteen rotations? I was gone for a whole night? I must’ve been lying on the floor of that cave for longer than I’d thought.

But for the record Aheka, I wasn’t going to come back.

To the left, leaning against the arch that acts as the entranceway to the cockpit-nook, Circe smirks. I shoot him a look of asking for help, to which he responds with a shrug. Adamus clears his throat to mask the chuckle threatening to escape his lips. “Aheka…”

The Togruta pulls away from me, hands still holding my shoulders. “Try not to scare people like that again, alright?”

And then, for a moment, the unthinkable happens. I’m glad I came back too. I’m glad I’m seeing Aheka again, who’s been nothing but kind and charitable to me from the moment she met me. I normally hate good people, but it’s really difficult to do that with her. Instead of saying any of that, I just swallow dryly and nod. She leaves to go talk to a man with a clipboard and a medical uniform.

“What she said, kiddo,” Circe says. I raise my eyebrow playfully while Adamus raises his in pure question. “Hey, two Jedi are better than one.”

“I’m-”

“Not a Jedi. I know.” I let out a small smile as I watch one graze his lips as well. It reminds me so much of the rare moments of purity I had with Mur. When it was just him and I, and I would become frustrated with repairs and he would tell me to just breathe. Or when he would sarcastically congratulate me for not blowing up the ship when it was my turn to cook. Circe offers me a wink before going back to collapsing in his pilot chair.

When I turn back to Adamus, his intelligent eyes tell me he’s making a wild assumption about me that just might be true. Regardless, he nods his head as his way of telling me to follow him. I am stiff and still at first, still on my guard.

He leads me through one of the doors on the other side of the control room I haven’t been through before, then down a hallway and to the right. I just keep my eyes trained on his back, suddenly hyper aware that I’m still wearing his jacket. I shift in it uncomfortably, ready to become hot.

Adumus enters a door that leads to a room with a giant window and a few tables. Through the window, a few people train in hand to hand combat and one with a staff. I perk up at the thought of being able to train- the only problem would be remembering how to get here.

Adamus gestures to a table in the corner, which I slide into easily. He takes the seat across from me, neither of us daring to break eye contact.

I am not talking first.

Adamus stays silent, his eyes flickering between my own. “What did Circe mean when he said you weren’t a Jedi?”

I’m taken back, but I refer to let it show. “You know there are way more interesting things in the galaxy to talk about than me.”

“Not to me, there isn’t.”

I’m taken back even more, now. His words are romantic, even though we both know that’s not at all what he meant. Adamus senses his mistake too, leaning back as his eyes widen ever so slightly. Neither of us dare to apologize, because that would make it a reality.

I play with my thumbs under the table, debating my response. “You’re clearly a Jedi. What’s so difficult to understand about someone not being a Jedi?”

“The fact that that would make them a Sith.”

“Not if I’m not a Sith, either. Which I am not.”

Silence. One, two, three seconds go by in silence.

“Hey, how about we play a game?” Adamus suggests, leaning forward in confidence again. I shift in my chair and raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “For every question you answer truthfully, you get to ask me a question in turn.”

Oh, this will surely backfire on me. He’s planning something- he’s not stupid enough not to. He’s forcing me into a corner. But, I could use this to an advantage. “I accept.”

Adamus’s fingers drum against the table one at a time. His fingers are long and slender like mine, half covered by fingerless gloves. Unlike mine, however, his hands are large and could fit over mine several times over. “How did you get to Endor?”

“I won a contest.”

Adamus looks at me with a look of disbelief, like he can’t believe I thought I could get away with something. When my face remains unchanging for a few seconds, he sees I’m telling the truth. “What did you just say to me?”

I drum my fingers against my knees under the table. I would only realize later that it was out of nervousness. “I was captured by a group of criminals. While I was with them, they gave me a choice. I just did what I had to do, and they chose the details of my release.” Then I shrug, as if I hadn’t gotten nightmares about the whole thing. “Simple.”

Adamus squints his eyes slightly, searching for a falsity. He will find none. “And your question for me?”

What’s a good one to ask him?

“Why did you follow me?” I ask lowly, my brows creasing together.

Adamus closes his lips tight, and breathes out. “I saw you by chance. I thought you were a Sith at first.”

"And?”

“You’re not, apparently.” Adamus shifts his shoulders. “So I thought you could be an ally instead.”

I try not to roll my eyes at the boys fantastical fantasies. “But you know I won’t do that, right?”

I watch Adamus smirk. His square shoulders relax a little. “It’s not your turn to ask a question.” Damn him. “So then. You know I have to ask about your name.”

Damn him a second time. A third. A trillion! “Vagor,” I mutter, looking down at my lap.

“Is that your first name, or your secondary?”

"Second. My first name is Keres.”

There’s quiet. Adamus is searching for something in my position again. Then his cheeks scrunch up with dimples, and a calm smile washes over his features again. I need to note these things. Adamus smiles when he thinks he knows something. Aheka swallows when she’s nervous.

“Isn’t that a pretty name,” Adamus quips. Then he narrows his eyes before widening them. “You should really see your face right now.”

Shut up. Shut the kriff up, I think as I grit my teeth silently. I’m already pissed at myself for coming back at all, and now Adamus is trying to push luck by antagonizing me. What’s his deal? More importantly, what’s the question to ask that’ll sort it out for me?

“Your turn then,” the boy reminds me.

I need time. I can’t think of social plans like I can battle strategies. “How long have you been with the… what do you call it? The rebellion?”

“One year, seven months, and four days,” he answers immediately.

So, he’s been keeping track.

“They found me on Nar Shaddaa. It was just a few of them at that point. They wanted me to be the leader,” Adamus explains.

“Did you not want to?”

He shifts in his seat, thinking of the words. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

My brain starts to memorize all the details of Adamus’s face right then and there. I can still hear the pitch of his voice in my skull. It’s smooth and crisp. Not terribly deep but nowhere close to high pitched. He still feels strong to me. But I suppose he still feels soft too. A little more charismatic, but it feels more like something he had to learn through diplomacy than a natural trait. Not that I mind.

“Were you very young then?”

Adamus breathes in, thinking. “Not really.”

Now my brain is trying to determine his age. Adamus can’t be more than twenty years of age. I can feel that fact in my gut. But he seems older than me. I can tell from the way he thinks and carries himself. He feels somewhat mature.

“So if you’re not a Sith, then where’d you get the lightsaber? Steal it?”

Yes.

"No. I found it on a body. It was blue when I got there.”

Which isn’t a total lie. I did find it on a body (of a Jedi I killed), and it was blue (before I turned it red). I’m remaining truthful.

“How did it turn red?” Adamus asks with creased brows. They’re knitted in such a way that suggests true confusion, not a false mockery of the feeling.

And, because I’m truthful as ever, I tell him. “I don’t know. One minute it was blue in my hand, the next it was turning red. I couldn’t tell you what happened.”

Silence. The boy is thinking again. “You made the crystal bleed,” Adamus states factually. My eyebrows knit together, just as his did a moment ago, in the way that encourages him to go on. It’s genuine confusion too, which angers me to admit to myself. It feels like I’m conceding defeat to my enemy.

No, I can’t call him an enemy anymore. Ever since I decided to come back from Ilum, I signed a contract. This contract says that I’ve willingly made myself allies. Voluntarily. All on my own. I can’t complain much about it if I chose it. Still, it’s hard not to see Adamus as an enemy. Any kind of radical organization puts me on edge.

“Every lightsaber is powered by a crystal. I think you know that, Vagor. Sith, and you, I guess, are able to make the crystals bleed and turn red. You learn about it as a Jedi. My only question is, how’d you do it?”

“What do you mean by that?” I question in return.

“You made your lightsaber crystal bleed, but how?”

Should I tell him the truth? If I do, he’ll place me under further speculation. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole ship voted to put me under surveillance. I might be signing a death warrant just by vocalizing just how much rage and guilt I’m able to possess. I have to lie.

"I don’t know,” I say with a steady tone. “I didn’t mean to. I was just holding the saber, and it changed. I remember the world very calm, though.”

“Are you sure?”

Can he… see through my lie? No, I’m too practiced in the art for even a Jedi to see through it that fast. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Adamus’s eyes tells me he’s not completely convinced, but he knows there’s nothing more he can do about it. I’ve got him caught in a web of social constructs spun by himself.

“So then, Vagor,” he speaks. “Where were you born?”

It wasn’t his turn to ask a question, but I let him anyway. I shrug, and tell the truth. “I don’t know.”

At once, his eyebrows set themselves lower in disbelief and confusion. “You don’t know? How would you not know where you’re from?”

I shrug again. “I stayed on Coruscant for a while. Then Ilum, then Bracca. I don’t know where I was born.”

“Right.”

Ah, what question to ask him. Adamus, you clever minx. You know you need this information out of me, and you know I need to know about you. You’re backing me into a corner that relies on give and take. It seems a simple little conversation, but in reality, he has thought it through. Good to know.

I decide to play it safe. “Where are you from then?”

“Mandalore,” he says flatly.

I haven’t heard much about Mandalore. At least, I haven’t heard much good about Mandalore. It’s beautiful, but certainly attracted a lot of attention during the Wars. Sometimes I could swear I could hear a calling from that place, like someone was reaching out to me for something. But, even if I had wanted to go, I wouldn’t have had a ride anyway. “Did you like it?” I ask instead.

“It’s not your turn to ask a question. So tell me- what were you doing for all those years alone? You weren’t a Jedi or a padawan, and apparently you weren’t a Sith. So what was it?”

There’s a small flame of anger sparking in the pit of my stomach. I have the urge to tell Adamus to eat Bantha dung and kill him, but that’s not in the cards. “Hunter,” I tell him blandly.

“Mm,” he hums. “No, I don’t buy it. What else were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“No family? Friends? At least your parents were with you, right?”

Maker, no need to rub it in.

It’s a fair assumption that I would be reliant on at least one other person in my youth. I would’ve had to have been to learn how to read and write and speak and operate. But I don’t remember anyone of the sort. I can kind of imagine my father, if I try hard enough. I have no clues on my mother. I’d never considered siblings before, but I don’t have any memories of them either. No friends. I’ve never liked people all that much anyway.

A flash of realization and another feeling I can’t name runs through Adamus’s eyes. Shock? Betrayal? Pity? All of the above?

I lean forward quickly, staring deep into his eyes daringly. I want to piss him off just as much. I want to see the exact moment he snaps. “No. I was alone.”

Adamus swallows dryly, guilt lacing his features as he responds. “So were you there during the Purge.” His voice has become low and his eyes have completely pierced mine.

The one with the yellow striped helmet.

“Yes,” I say, my voice coming out hoarser than I’d expected. “I was there.”

“Were you very young?”

“Yes.” I was thirteen. I’d wanted to go out and gather some food. I killed someone for the first time that day. I have a scar on my left harm from a blaster shot. The one who gave it to me had a yellow striped helmet.

“And I should’ve died,” I confess.

Adamus swallows. “I-”

He begins but doesn’t finish. A man in a vest with flushed skin and a smock bursts through the door, chest heaving for air. “Sir!”

Adamus tears his eyes away from mine with a jump. “We’re receiving a transmission from someone named Brendul Hux. He’s asked to speak to you, sir.”

Adamus’s shoulders relax as I watch him gather his breath and his thoughts. “I’ll be right there,” he says, a little less commanding than normal. The man murmurs a ‘yes sir’ and shuts the door behind him.

I don’t know where to go from here. It feels unnatural to just begin speaking again. We’d been so caught up in ourselves and each other, we’d forgotten the environment around us. Was this his intention?

“My name is Acer,” he begins to say as he stands up. His broad shoulders rise into the air with his stocky build. Up close like this, I can see he has a body was made for sports. “Acer Adamus.”

“Hello Acer,” I mumble so only the Jedi can hear. He does hear.

“Hello, Vagor,” he replies in kind. Then he leaves me after a minute of staring.

I do wonder why he lied about his name, but I understand it deep down. There are few reasons why someone would lie about that- because they are on the run, because they hate their name, or because there is a bad memory associated with it. I suspect it to be the latter. All in all, I’m glad I talked to Adamus- Acer- more. I will most likely be stuck with him for the long haul now, so it would prove favorable to know what kind of person I’m dealing with.

Calm, level-headed. Respected by everyone here as far as I can tell. He was a Jedi padawan, so he probably never knew his family. Adamus must be trained in the ways of the force and lightsaber combat then. He was kind enough to give me his jacket… which I’m still wearing. He’s smart enough to understand that he has to know who I am in order to trust me. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll decide to hate him a little less. No. He’s still a captor. I don’t trust him anymore than I did before.

The winding hallways aren’t as confusing as I thought initially, I just wasn’t paying attention. I get back to the control room soon enough, although it’s mostly empty by now. There are a few people cluttered around the holotable, but from what I can see they’re all tired and on the verge of yawning. Without realizing, I look for Aheka. Seeing her horned form nowhere in sight, I proceed to make my way to the cockpit instead.

Circe turns in his chair to look at me. His Mandalorian helmet is on his head this time, but he quickly removes it to reveal a charismatic look. “It’s you. How are you, not-Jedi?” He flips a little switch on the right side of the console and leans back in his chair expectantly. In that moment, I think he may just remind me of Kip more than Mur.

I roll my eyes without commanding myself to do so and nudge my finger to the helmet. “Aren’t they never supposed to take off their helmets?”

“Beats me,” Circe shrugs. “If you’re so curious, you could ask Adamus. Kid was born there.”

Yeah, Circe, I know. “Are you the pilot?”

“The one and only,” he chuckles lightly. “Turns out nobody else here can fly. Well, I mean Adamus can, but he gets sick. I’ve been trying to train some of the troops but there’s not a whole lot of volunteers.”

I try not to chuckle at the thought of Adamus in a cockpit, head woozy as he tries to contain his vomit. “I can fly,” I say to him. “I’ve flown a tie-fighter and a few gunships. Nothing as fancy as this though.”

Circe’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Seriously? What were you doing with those?”

“Stealing,” I retort, bounding over to the other pilots chair. There are a few buttons I recognize on the console, but this definitely isn’t the same as a tie-fighter or Mur’s ship. This is a whole different model, whole different make. Circe sees my confusion and offers up his voice.

“You know,” he sees, wagging his finger. “It’s weird to picture you stealing. But you must be a damn good pilot to fly a tie-fighter. What the hell? I’ll teach you how to handle this bad boy. Don’t worry, not right now.”

A grateful smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Thanks,” I say slowly. Circe is the only person on this ship who reminds me of something from my past. He reminds me of Mur and smuggling and rough activity. He reminds me of irony and sarcasm and smooth sailing. I’m grateful for it, even though he doesn’t realize what his affect is. I dare not tell him, though. That’s just not in my nature.

“You know, when I was little, I wanted to be like the Jedi so badly,” Circe says, putting his chin his hand. “I just wanted them to take me from where I was born and make me just as strong and glorified as they were. I was born on Nal Hutta, ya see.”

I nod my head in understanding, genuinely listening to his story.

“Eventually I got old enough to realize that they weren’t going to accept me anymore, but I still had hope. Then, one day, they come strutting down the street. Clearly they don’t belong here, I thought. So I gave them advice from the local street rat’s point of view. They thanked me for the help, and I felt like hot bantha dung. Really! Later that week, they arrested my father’s boss and my father with him. But my dad was sick, ya see. They decided to take him to jail anyway, even though they knew he would die if he went with ‘em.”

Cold. Unsurprising, and cold.

“My mother abandoned me not long after that. All thanks to the Jedi, of course.”

I lean forward, ready to lay my thoughts out for the first time. “Every action has a reaction. So how many innocents have they killed or harmed or dragged into conflict under the guise of peace?” My voice trails off into a whisper. “How many people have they abandoned, how much information have they missed? Hero is such a subjective word. I hate it.”

Circe watches me with thoughtful eyes. “They did something to you, didn’t they?”

“That wasn’t really the issue,” I admit. “I was born somewhere they couldn’t be bothered to go to, so they never took me in.” My hands ball into fists at the arms of the chair, displaying my resentment. I’ve never been so emotional or expressive, to be honest. I’m not totally sure how I feel about it. Confused, probably, on top of the anger and sadness. “If they had, maybe my life would’ve been different.”

Circe is quiet only for a second before speaking. “You know, the good part about growing up, is that your life is going to be different anyway. I mean, look at where we are. We were going to be here one way or another. Now we’re just here as ourselves. Maybe that’s the only way we should be here.”

My brain hums in annoyance- my bodies was of saying ‘enough with the doom and gloom already’. “No need to get so sentimental,” I tease. “Especially with a man of your age.” Luckily, Circe understands my humor quickly and matches me.

Circe mockingly places his palm to his chest, feigning offense. “A man of my age!”

I smile, watching his playful display of pretending to faint as hyperspace whizzes by. Even when he shoos me away to go to bed, I’m suppressing a loud chuckle. My heart doesn’t feel so heavy in my chest as I laugh, and I know this is where my heart truly lies. It lies in the world of humor and laughter and sarcasm. Circe knows that. I like him for it.

By the time I enter my room, everyone at the holotable has cleared out. Exhaustion rests comfortably on my eyes as I think about snuggling under a blanket. I almost consider taking a shower before snapping back to my senses. Wiping my face clean of any signs of joy, I watch it return a few seconds later in the mirror.

Oh, whatever. I enjoy Circe’s personality. I’ll just let myself be as relaxed as I can be, just this once. Just like the last time I was relaxed. Back on Takodana with Talik and Kip and Jarvers. They gave me that terrible drink before Mur came over and suggested a scavenging job. I feel just as happy as I did then, if I was happy at all.

Sighing, I put my head on a little pillow and drape a blue, rough blanket over top of me. I don’t even bother to change my clothes, instead tugging Adamus’s jacket closer without realizing it. It smells like him- how didn’t I notice it before? It smells like the earth and heat and work, but not sweat.

My eyes shoot open when I hear the soft knocks on my door. I jump out of bed, hand wrapping around the new lightsaber still dangling on my hip. I rip Adamus’s jacket off me, eyebrows furrowed together in aggression. Nobody I’ve encountered at night has wanted to do something non aggressive with me. I’m ready for this.

“Keres!”

Wait a minute. That’s not the voice of someone particularly cruel or vile coming to attack me. In fact, it sounds a lot like Adamus, whisper shouting through the door.

The person knocks again, a little louder. “Keres!”

Eyes squinting tiredly and annoyingly, I shuffle towards the door, unlock it and turn on the lights. The door zips open to reveal Adamus looming over me. He’s not menacing, just taller than me by kind of a lot. His soft brown hair is a little roughed up, and tired circles hang under his eyes. I can see the faded orbs as a sign of how he is in terms of sleep.

“What are you doing here?” I say, rubbing my eyes with a hum of anger. I’m peeved he’s decided to interrupt my sleep.

“The game,” he says, tone urgent. “We didn’t finish the game.”

"What?”

Adamus rolls his eyes and pushes past me, observing his jacket on the floor and the tray that Aheka previously left for me. Sitting on the bench I’ve been calling a bed, his hands ball and un-ball in fists. “Please sit, Vagor. I’m not finished with you until I say so.”

He’d cry later that night.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars story #jedi #gray jedi #grayjedi #rebellion #lightsaber

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stcky-rogers · 5 years ago

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this mean war — two

summary: shield operatives bucky barnes and steve rogers are inseparable best friends and partners. what happens when their friendship and partnership is put to the test when they both fall for the same girl and have to compete for her love and attention? movie au, this means war.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader

warnings: language, minor angst

one

you walked through the grocery store with your friends, natasha and wanda. you were in the middle of telling them about your encounter with thor and his fiancee. wanda looped her arm through yours as you followed nat through the store. “it was the most embarrassing moment of my life.” you sighed, leaning your head on wanda’s shoulder. “that’s because you should’ve said something totally different,” nat said, throwing paper towels into the basket, “you should’ve said he was getting a penis deduction.” nat shrugged.

you looked up at wanda, “is she serious right now?” wanda squeezed your arm lightly, “i’m afraid so.” you rolled your eyes before explaining yourself. “i couldn’t think of anything when i saw him. i gave up everything for him. i left behind family, friends,” you said before nat and wanda turned to you, looking like kicked puppies.

“don’t say that, we’re glad you moved out here. we have a happy life together,” wanda rushed. “i just, i thought he was my person,” you explained. “we thought he was your person, too. but, he’s the type of person who’s too busy playing with rocks instead of diamonds.” natasha said as she dropped another item in the cart.

“she seemed really nice and she’s really pretty,” you confessed, lifting your head up from wanda’s shoulder. nat and wanda made eye contact before they both stopped and looked at you, “we could give two shits about her, we care about you and your love life.” nat said, rubbing your arm. talking to nat and wanda was like talking to your mom and grandmother. wanda would console you and nat would give you the cold, hard truth and then offer comfort.

you rolled your eyes, “i’m going out, i’m dating. it’s just not working out,” you shrugged and nat scoffed, “you’re dating, but you’re not serious about it.” she said and wanda agreed. “she’s right.” you saw nat reaching for a terrible brand of dish washing liquid.

“no, don’t get that one, it leaves a sticky feeling on the dishes.” you walked over and grabbed the brand you used, “use this one, it’s cheaper and better.” you said, placing it into the cart.

wanda shook her head, “why aren’t you using your skills to choose men like you just chose that soap?”

“because, wan, it’s different. it’s my job, men aren’t.” and that’s when nat jumped in with the same thing she’s been trying to pitch to you since your breakup with thor. “that’s why you should start online dating.” you rapidly shook your head, “no, nat. i’ve watched date line. i could end up a skin suit or in a trunk.” nat begin grabbing wine bottles, placing four in the basket. “stop being so dramatic,” wanda spoke. you frowned, “i thought you were on my side, wan.”

“i’m with nat on this one, you can’t be scared to put yourself out there.” she shrugged, “thank you, wanda. you’re not going to end up in anyone’s trunk, but maybe someone could end up in yours.” she smirked, lightly tugging at your dress as you giggled. “our point is you just need to get back out there. you can’t be scared forever, take a risk, live a little. who knows, you might find a husband.” wanda encouraged. nat smiled, “what’s the worse thing that could happen?”

“skin suit, that’s pretty bad.” you said, walking ahead of the girls as they groaned at your stubbornness.

on the other side of new york, steve and bucky were sitting at a table, eating nana’s famous chocolate cake. “thanks for invitin’ me, man.” bucky smiled softly, sipping the champagne. steve rolled his eyes, shoveling a piece of cake into his mouth, “you kiddin’, pal? you’re my best friend.” bucky laughed softly, shaking his head at the blond.

nana approached the table, “why the hell are you two sitting here, by yourselves? you’re not going to make me any great grandchildren this way.” steve groaned, “nana, it’s a family gathering, no one is making babies.” bucky kicked steve underneath the table, “nana, i have already provided you with a beautiful great grandson.” bucky smiled, nana rolled her eyes. “but, you managed to mess it up.” bucky looked down, his smile faltering.

steve’s grandfather whisked wife away from meddling in the boys’ lives. bucky watched, smiling fondly, as they danced and staring at each other with so much love in their eyes. steve frowned as he looked over at his friend, “what’s going on, pal?” steve asked, taking another bite of cake.

bucky turned to face his friend, “alright, you know that i trust you, you’re my best friend and i’d take a bullet for you like you’d take one for me,” steve nodded, “now, can you imagine all of that, but with a woman?” bucky asked. steve shook his head, “no.” bucky sighed, leaning back in his chair. “it’s lovely, the way they look into each other’s eyes.” steve frowned as he stared at his friend, “i’m pretty sure that’s the cataracts.” bucky rolled his eyes at the remark.

soon after the party retired and everyone left to their respective homes. upon entering his apartment, bucky tossed his keys on the counter and began to change into something comfortable enough to sleep in. while steve walked into his home and looked up at the pool, he smirked. immediately shredding himself of his jacket and went to meet the woman, whose name he didn’t even remember.

the next day, steve spent all day in bed with the nameless woman.

and bucky, attended his son’s karate tournament. it wasn’t going so well for the poor kid. after being wailed on, he repeatedly slammed his hand against the mat. bucky gave his son an encouraging smile as he walked off of the mat.

“what are you doing here?” alex asked, his father. bucky stared back at his miniature clone, “i had some time off and i thought i’d come see you.” his son sighed, hanging his head in defeat. “i got creamed,” bucky placed his hand under his son’s chin, bringing his head up. “you didn’t get creamed, we just need to get you some more practice.” bucky encouraged causing alex to scoff.

“you’re a travel agent, what do you know about fighting?” alex snatched his duffel bag and brushed past his father. bucky sighed before following his son out to the car. just then, his mother pulled in front of them sporting a gleaming smile.

“hey! i didn’t know you were in town.” dot said, watching as bucky helped their son into the car. “yeah,” he said, closing the door and moving to the passenger window. “i had a few days off and i just wanted to come see alex,” he smiled.

dot laughed, “you know, you’re the only travel agent i know that travels.” bucky just smiled, “yeah,” he looked up.

“hey, dot, i was wondering if, you know, you, alex, and i could go out as a family. maybe the movies or just dinner is fine.” bucky rambled. dot saw the hopeful gleam in bucky’s eyes as she bit her lip before speaking. “um, i have a date tonight, buck.” she watched as bucky face fell a little. “oh,” was his response.

dot leaned over, glancing at alex who paid no attention to his parents. “but, maybe we could plan something soon?” bucky smiled, “yeah. that sounds great,” he drummed his fingers against the car, “well, i have to get going. take care,” bucky said before turning his attention to his son, “be safe, kiddo. i love you.” alex smiled up at his dad, “i love you, too, dad.” he said before they took off leaving bucky standing in the parking lot alone.

three

taglist:

@inlovewith3 / @starkxpotts / @breezy1415 / @thoughstofaredhead

#stcky-rogers fics #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #captain america x reader #captain america au #this means war au #this means war

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azaraspirit · 6 years ago

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PIII for Songs For Someone Who Doesn’t Love Me Back

hey guys!!!! im proud to be sharing the third chapter with you all! again the original fic was written by my good friend @softboy-holland! she let me continue her fic so here’s the third and possibly final chapter!

You and Peter spent nearly the entire night in your bed, talking. You felt more closer to him than ever before. And not just because you were cuddling in bed. But like, emotionally, mentally closer.

“I really am sorry about Liz…” you spoke softly.

“It’s okay, I’m over it. Come to think of it, I never really liked her that much anyways…”

You sighed, unsure of what to do. You were never exactly a girlfriend before. Was there a manual for read for this kind of thing?

“You sure about that? Seemed like you were crazy about her.”

Peter started to play with your hair. “I’m not really sure...I just feel like our entire relationship was a lie…”

You reached up stroke his cheek, your eyes met. “It’s okay to be upset about this Peter…”

You could see that he wanted to cry.

“I’m not going to get upset of this.” he said sternly.

“Okay.” you replied. “I’m just saying you can…”

“I d-don’t want to…” A tear fell down his cheek. You wrapped your arms around him as he sunk into your chest, crying. “I feel like a joke…”

“You’re not a joke, Peter.” You tangled your fingers in his messy curls.

Peter cried himself to sleep, using you as a pillow. You eventually dozed off yourself.

Luckily it was Sunday so you and Peter didn’t have to worry about school. Your homework was already done so the following morning the two of you remained in your bed, Peter still asleep in his suit, curled up next to you.

You thought about school tomorrow. What would people think? As far as they knew, Peter and Liz were still together. But you and Peter were together...You thought about what to say to Liz, because you had A LOT of words to say, most of them not very nice. She needed to know what she did was wrong and that she upset Peter.

Peter stirred himself awake, his eyes a little red.

“Hey, sleepy head.” you cooed.

He rubbed his eyes. “I fell asleep in my suit?” You laughed. “You did. You hungry? I can make breakfast and bring it up here.”

“That sounds good…” he admitted.

“I’ll be back then okay? Maybe you can take a shower while I’m gone.”

He nodded.

You kissed your boyfriend before heading off to the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo.” your father greeted.

“Hey, dad.”

“You seen Peter?”

Oh shit. No one else knows about you and Peter. So you lied. “Uh, no I haven’t. Not since yesterday.”

“Well tell him to come by today, okay?”

“Okay, dad.”

You weren’t that hungry so you just made breakfast for Peter. You said hi to a few other Avengers on the way up to your room.

You nearly dropped food you just made as you saw Peter half naked. Your cheeks turned red when he walked up to you. He already looked better than he did last night.

“You’re the best! Y/N!” he beamed, kissing you on the cheek as he took his food.

You giggled. “No one else knows your here just FYI.”

“I figured that since I didn’t exactly use the front door.” he chuckled, sitting down to eat the breakfast you made him.”

“I swear you’ve entered more windows than actual doors.”

He laughed. “You’re probably right.”

Peter ate as you got ready.

“I’ll use the front door this time, I promise. See you soon?”

When you were finished, he stood by the window in his suit. You nodded. And kissed him on the cheek, feeling the soft material of his suit.

You watched as he swung out of the window, disappearing from sight.

That’s when it hit you. You’re boyfriend was Spider-Man. HOLY SHIT.

You literally skipped down to the kitchen again. You were the only there as you made something to eat. You assumed Peter would be late as usual. Surely someone needed Spider-Man.

Instead Peter entered the kitchen less than an a half hour later.

“Hey!” you beamed as he hugged him.

He hugged you back.

“I was wondering, if we should tell everyone about us? I ask because I don’t know if I can keep my hands off you.” you laughed.

Peter chuckled. “We’re failing already.” he said, his arms still around you waist.

You blushed.

“About damn time.” Bucky suddenly spoke.

You two jumped, separating as you noticed the super soldier watching you.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know.”

“We don’t….” Peter admitted.

“You don’t hug a friend like that.” he chuckled.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Um about that…” you trailed off.

“You two are dating now aren’t you?” Bucky asked.

“Yes?” Peter squeaked.

Suddenly, Bucky rushed up to hug you both. “I’ve been waiting for this!” he exclaimed.

“Bucky!” you shouted.

He put you down, both of you trying to breathe again. “Sorry. I’m just really excited!”

“We noticed.” Peter said.

“Excited about what?” Steve asked as he walked up to them. “Y/N and Peter are dating now!” Bucky exclaimed.

Steve nearly choked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The new couple stood there awkwardly. “Uuuuh yeah. We are.” said Peter.

Steve smiled. “Well congrats you two. You are pretty cute together.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bucky agreed.

“What happened to your last girlfriend though?” Loki suddenly appeared next to them.

“Loki!” you scolded.

“Uh, it’s a long story.” said Peter.

“I hate it when you do that.” you told Loki.

He just shrugged.

“You’re not an avenger, what are you doing here?” Bucky growled.

“My brother is an avenger, doesn’t that count for something?” Loki smirked.

“Adopted brother.” Steve corrected.

“I think of you two as brothers.” Loki said.

“Thanks but no thanks.”

“Anyways, about you two-hey where did they go?” Steve was surprised to see Peter and Y/N have vanished.

“I guess the idea of us being brothers scared them. It scares me too.” snickered Bucky.

“You’re mean.” whined Loki before walking away.

“That’s only because I don’t like you.”

“You’re brutal honesty concerns me sometimes.” Steve admitted.

Bucky just shrugged in response.

“Loki still creeps me out.” said Peter after you two snuck away from them.

“He’s not all that bad.” you admitted. “I kinda like him. “We train together a lot.”

Peter just rolled your eyes. “What about your dad? I don’t know if Tony will approve...he might kill me.”

“Maybe.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“I’m kidding!” you joked.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

You laughed. Peter was such a dork.

“Well the sooner we tell my dad the better.”

“Tell your dad what?”

They shouted as Tony Stark appeared into the room with a mug in hand.

The shared a startled look.

“You guys need to tell me something?”

“Um kinda.” you said.

Tony narrowed his thick dark eyebrows.

Peter gulped. Suddenly he couldn’t speak. Instead he slowly laced his fingers with yours. Your cheeks flushed with a deep shade of pink.

Your father stared at your two laced hands. You weren’t sure of his reaction. He looked more shocked than angry.

“Oh...so you two are…”

“Together.” you finished. “Peter’s my boyfriend, Dad.”

Peter gulped, ready to flee in case Tony went into protective dad mode.

Tony smiled, something that truly shocked you.

“Y-you’re not mad?” you asked.

“Why would I be mad? I was hoping you two would end up together.”

“Uuuuh are you really Tony Stark? You sure you’re not an alien clone?” Peter asked.

Tony laughed. “No kid, it’s me. Seriously I’m stoked for you two. Just remember kid that Y/N is my daughter so I will kill you if you hurt her.”

“Dad! Don’t scare him!”

“It’s okay, I was expecting this. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark, I will protect Y/N with my life.”

“Thatta boy.” Tony sipped his coffee.

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Dinner was buzzing with excitement as by then all the avengers and Loki knew you and Peter were dating.

“But seriously, what about the other girl?” Loki pressed.

Peter sighed as he held your hand tightly under the table. “She dumped me.”

“Where is she? I will make her feel the wrath of the mighty Thor!”” Thor shouted.

“Calm down, brother.” Loki said.

“Thanks Thor but we don’t want to smite her.” you scolded.

“Still she should be punished for hurting my pupil.” Tony said.

“Dad.”

“I can make her disappear.” Nat suggested.

“I could shoot her with an arrow.” spoke Clint.

“Guys!” you shouted, surprising everyone. “No one is hurting anyone okay? I plan to have a little chat with her tomorrow.”

“You do?” Peter asked.

“Use that scissor lock I taught you.” said Nat.

You just groaned.

The following night Peter and you stood in your room by the window, arms around each other. “I don’t want you to go.” you pouted.

“I know but Aunt May will kill me if I stay the night during a school night.”

You sunk into his chest even further.

“Don’t do this Y/N. We’ll see each other at school tomorrow okay?”

You looked up at him with sad puppy dog eyes.

“Y/N I have to go.”

You gave your boyfriend a tight hug. He hugged you back. “Text me when you get home safe.” you said.

“I will.”

You reluctantly let go of Peter. He gave you a nice long kiss before putting on his mask. “Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Spider-Man.”

With that said, Peter disappeared into the night.

You were excited about school tomorrow, but also nervous. No one else knew about you and Peter. That is unless Liz told everyone. Anger boiled inside you at the thought of Liz again. You ready to tell her off for hurting Peter.

“You ready?” Peter asked as you stood outside of school, holding hands.

“Totally.” You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before entering the school.

The first ones to notice your hand holding were your two best friends, Ned and MJ.

“Dude why are you holding hands?” Ned asked.

“We’re dating!” you beamed.

Your friends stared at you confused.

“Lis dumped me the other day.” Peter told them.

“Seriously?” MJ asked. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Well she was cheating on me nearly the whole time.”

“Shit, Peter.” said Ned.

“It’s okay, Y/N and I are together now so it’s all good.”

“A little fast don’t ya think?” MJ winked at you.

You rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

Someone caught your eye. “Hey, I gotta use the restroom, be right back.” You pecked Peter on the cheek before heading to the ladies room.

“I’ll go with you!”

God damn it. You didn’t really want back up but you couldn’t say no as MJ followed you into the bathroom.

A few moments later, Liz stepped out of the stall.

“Oh, hey guys.” she greeted nervously.

You clenched your fists, wanting to punch her lights out.

“I need to say something to you.” you told her.

“Sorry, but I need to get to class.” she said.

“No, you need to hear this.” you said sternly.

Liz stood there awkwardly, unable to leave for you and MJ blocked the door.

“You really hurt Peter the other night, dumping him like that. You could have done better. You were with your ex for nearly two months. You had plenty of chances to end things with Peter properly but you didn’t. That was a dick move, Liz. He came to my room upset. He cried himself to sleep while I held him in my arms. He feels like that entire time with him was a lie. You realize how much that will hurt his confidence? I don’t think you do.” You paused. “Peter and I are together now and I know for a fact that I will never hurt him like you did, Liz.”

“Damn, Y/N.” MJ spoke.

Liz looked shocked more than anything. Her eyes were watery. “I have to go.” she managed, forcing herself through you and MJ.

“Is that why you came in here?”az

“Damn right.”

“You told her.” You and MJ did a hi-five.

You left the bathroom feeling more confident than ever, you arm laced with MJ’s.

“Welcome, back ladies. Have fun?” Ned teased.

“Loads of fun.” MJ answered.

You stood next to Peter, taking his hand again, squeezing it. You shared a soft smile, remembering your words to Liz.

“We better get to home room guys.” Peter spoke up.

With that, the four of you headed off to class, your fingers laced with Peter’s. You would never hurt Peter like that, never.

#azaras-spirit #my fics #peter parker #marvel

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lobsters-on-their-heads · 7 years ago

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Continuing Travels of Cophine, Chapt. 10

Start from the beginning here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12116799/chapters/27477684

When Sarah finally responded to Cosima's question about rescheduling, Delphine was driving them all to Sarah's house, though Cosima still thought of it as Siobhan's. Gene sat in the front passenger seat, chatting with Delphine about kelp forests off the coast of California, and Sally and Cosima were in the back, zoning in and out. It was 12:20 pm, putting Charlotte's parent-teacher conference less than two and a half hours away.

I've rescheduled four times already, Sarah texted. Two of those because I forgot. Can't do it again.

We're almost at your house, Cosima typed, needing some more time to think about this before committing. Can we talk about it then?

Cosima had never impersonated Sarah, only Alison, and that had gone south fast as soon as she needed to actually talk to people, rather than just be Alison-shaped. Sarah was the family chameleon, after all, but from what she heard, Alison could do a passable Sarah Manning, as well.

Have you asked Alison to do it?

Yeah. She's busy, and she's says it's my responsibility.

That sounded like Alison. Cosima slid her phone back into her pocket and chewed on her thumbnail.

Sarah greeted them at the door when they arrived at the house, and behind her they saw Helena trying to feed the boys in the kitchen. A squeal erupted from one of them just as Cosima and Delphine stepped over the threshold, Dr. and Dr. Niehaus behind them.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, “We're trying to convince them that throwing food's not a good idea. So far they're not convinced.”

Sally patted Cosima's back as Sarah offered to take their coats. “Oh, Cosima used to throw her food, too, you know. For a couple of years, in fact.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Cosima shed her coat and wanted to complain, but Delphine looked so utterly charmed by the image that she kept her mouth shut.

Gene nodded. “Yeah, we kind of had to feed her in a bubble and wrap ourselves in plastic. But she got better eventually.”

Once her parents were busy cooing over the babies in the kitchen, Cosima maneuvered Sarah into the opposite side of the living room, where Delphine settled onto the couch with a glass of water.

“Sarah, do you seriously want me to go to Charlotte's teacher conference as you?” Cosima hissed.

Sarah sighed and leaned against the wall. “I know, I know. It's... terrible parenting or.... sistering, or whatever. I've already gotten the earful from Alison. But, listen, it shouldn't be that hard.”

“Not that hard? Sarah, you're the guardian, not me.”

“Right, but this teacher's never met me. Just say you're me, and no one's gonna know.”

“No one except Charlotte,” Delphine said.

Sarah pushed her palms against her forehead and sighed. “Look, Charlotte knows what's up. She's a smart kid; we can explain it to her later, if we even have to. She'll probably figure out for herself why it's you there instead of me.”

Sarah wasn't wrong, but Cosima's heart ached for her little sister, expected to deal with clone swaps as a matter of course at the age of eleven. “I mean, yeah, she'll figure it out. That's not really what I'm worried about. Can't you try rescheduling your exam? Take it tomorrow in the professor's office or something?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. He's made it very clear, all semester, that we need emergency documentation in order to do that, and he gave us a list of acceptable documents. He also made it clear that child care and previous appointments do not count as emergencies.”

“Shit.” Cosima couldn't remember any professor having that policy in any of her classes, but maybe they just hadn't needed to. She looked at the clock. It was 12:55. “How far away is the school?”

“About a mile away. Charlotte takes the bus, though, `cause, you know.” Sarah gestured to her own leg. “So I never got a parking pass for the lot, and it's super expensive to park close by. Which means you'll have to walk or get Delphine to drop you off.”

Getting to the school was the least of Cosima's concerns. A mile meant she could walk there in about twenty minutes at a relaxed pace, and she had missed walking since they'd gotten back. “You said the teacher hasn't met you before, but haven't the office staff met you?”

“Only the first day, when I registered her.”

“So they probably noticed you have a British accent, and they'll notice that I don't.”

Sarah squirmed. “Yeah, maybe, but that was in August, and now it's December. That's four months for everyone to forget what I sound like.”

“A sibling guardian with a British accent isn't going to be that hard to forget, Sarah! That's two things that make you stand out from all the other adults who've registered their kids there this year. Plus, with Charlotte's leg brace, and the fact that she's in a traditional school for the first time ever, she's a memorable kid in general. Someone will remember you, and they will notice that I am different from you!”

While Sarah leaned back and rubbed her face, Sally came in, bouncing Arthur on her hip. “What's all the fuss in here, girls?”

“Nothing,” both Cosima and Sarah said.

* * *

An hour later, Sarah drove off to her final exam at the community college, and Cosima sat in Sarah's bedroom, formerly Siobhan's bedroom, papers scattered around and her laptop on her legs. Her parents were wrapped up with the babies downstairs, telling stories about baby Cosima to whatever adult would listen, while Cosima read the documents Sarah gave her regarding Charlotte's life in Toronto. She had fifteen minutes to familiarize herself before getting ready to leave.

“What the hell am I doing?” she muttered, and reminded herself that she was doing this for her sisters.

Charlotte had a social insurance card, magically created birth certificate, and all other relevant documentation in a manila envelope with her name on it. She was up to date on her vaccinations and yearly physicals, though her doctor recommended physical therapy for her leg, which Charlotte, apparently, was not interested in. There was also a note in one of her medical forms mentioning the possibility of surgery, but warning about complications in a growing girl. Cosima made a mental note to follow up on that later.

She already knew about Charlotte's grades, but she still looked over Charlotte's report cards and the notes and emails from her teachers. The most recent email, forwarded to Cosima by Sarah, expressed “ongoing concern” about Charlotte's interactions with her classmates. It came from a Mrs. Christina Moore, Charlotte's homeroom teacher, the same women requesting the conference.

“She'll be happy to see you, I think.”

Cosima turned to see Delphine come in, which meant her mother was bending Helena's ear now. “Maybe. Or maybe she'll think Sarah's just passing her off onto someone else. Which, okay, yeah, she actually is.” She tossed the most recent report card onto the pile of papers and wondered what the hell she was going to tell Mrs. Moore.

Delphine perched on the edge of the bed. “Yes, she is. But I don't think she means to.”

“No, I know she doesn't. She just... she forgets things all the time, or things don't always occur to her that should.”

“That sounds like you, sometimes.”

“I've never forgotten to take care of a kid.”

“You've never had a kid to forget to take care of.”

Cosima wanted to argue that that was not the point, that of course she would do a better job than Sarah was doing now, but Delphine was giving her that “You know I'm right” look, and at any rate it was 2:12 now, and she needed to get ready to go. She closed the laptop and gathered up the papers into the manilla envelope. “Maybe not. I just feel bad for Charlotte, that's all. She's eleven, for fuck's sake. She didn't ask for any of this.”

“No. Neither did Sarah. And neither did you.”

She leaned back against the headboard and met her gaze, then stretched out one foot to poke Delphine's knee. “I guess not. But you did. You sure you want to marry into this clone madness?”

Delphine grabbed her foot with both hands and pretended to trap it. “Positive. As long as no one pretends to be you again without giving me a heads up first. Now go. Make Charlotte proud.”

* * *

The school was a pleasant walk away, with the sidewalks all clear of snow and ice, through a neighborhood decorated with Christmas figures and the occasional menorah. Still unused to the cold after so many months down south, Cosima bundled herself in her red wool coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. At the school's entrance, a security guard directed her to the office, where she signed in and showed them Sarah's driver's license. Sarah had taken Cosima's, just in case she got pulled over for anything, which Cosima desperately hoped wouldn't happen. The woman behind the desk blinked up at her dreadlocks for a moment, then wrote Sara Maning on a visitor's pass for Cosima to stick to her chest.

“Christina Moore's in room 224. That's upstairs.” Before Cosima could even thank her, she turned her attention to the man next in line, so Cosima saw herself out of the office.

“That was easy,” she muttered.

Across the hall from the office, in a large room that looked like it served dual duty as cafeteria and auditorium, at least fifty children hung out, ran around, or looked at their phones, none of them batting an eye when Cosima entered. Three faculty members stood together in a corner, doing the bare minimum required to claim that the children were being supervised. On the opposite side of the room, on a grey folding chair, Cosima saw Charlotte, alone, her nose buried in a book. Cosima walked over.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Charlotte looked up at Cosima's voice and blinked several times, then saw the name tag. “Oh.”

“Is it okay that I'm here? She has an exam she can't really miss. But, if you want, I'll go. I don't have to be the one to talk to your teacher.”

Charlotte shrugged. “It's okay with me. I don't really know what she wants to talk about.”

“Sarah hasn't told you?”

Another shrug. “Kind of.”

“Okay, well, are you ready?”

Charlotte did not move. “For what? The conference is for Sarah – I mean, you, I guess – and the teacher.”

“The conference is about you, though. Don't you want to be there?”

Charlotte picked at a spot on her nose until Cosima gently took her hand away and crouched down in front of her. “Hey. I don't want to talk to someone about you without involving you in the conversation. You're the most important person in this whole... ordeal. If you don't want to be involved, that's totally cool, I get that, but you need to know that you have the choice. And if you don't want me to go in there and pretend that I'm the one who's in charge of you, or whatever, that's your choice, too. We can wait until Sarah has an open day in her schedule, and she can come in then. No problem.”

Tears threatened in Charlotte's eyes, but she shook her head. “It's okay. We can do it today.”

“You're okay with me talking to your teacher?”

“Yes. It's okay.”

“A'right. I'm gonna need your help, though, because as much as you've told me about school and everything, I haven't exactly been around the whole time you've been going here. Not like Sarah has. So I might need you to fill in some gaps for me.”

“Is that the real reason you want me to come with you?”

“I... no. No! I meant everything I said just now. If you want to stay down here, I'll do just fine. It would just be extra nice to have you there.”

Charlotte's head was turned and she looked at Cosima with a tiny smile. “Okay.”

“Okay, let's go meet Mrs. Moore, then.”

Charlotte stood and tucked her book away, but not before Cosima got a look at the title: The Chronicles of Pern. She didn't get to see which book in the series it was, but she pointed at it and said, “I used to love those books. My grandma always said I shouldn't read them, though.”

“Why?”

“Oh, probably `cause there's sex in them. That was my dad's mom, though; my mom's mom is way more open-minded.”

She thought she saw a hint of pink in Charlotte's cheeks, but in a moment Charlotte had hoisted her massive backpack onto her shoulders and led the way down a hallway towards a wide stairwell lined with inspirational posters. Cosima followed behind as Charlotte pulled herself up each step, her braced leg unable to help her up.

At the landing, Charlotte paused to readjust her backpack near a poster with multicolored words reading, “You never fail until you stop trying.” Cosima agreed with the general sentiment, but in this context it made her want to commit a minor act of vandalism.

“Does the school not have an elevator?” she asked.

“It does,” Charlotte said, “but it's all the way on the other side of the building, and it shakes a lot. Plus, it's really slow, and there's always a guard making sure that only the disabled kids use it.”

You are disabled, Cosima wanted to point out, but she held back. It wasn't her place to tell Charlotte how to identify, after all, and she remembered how she, herself, had hated being “accommodated” when she was sick. She still balked at the fact that Delphine had once pushed her in a wheelchair, and that was a long time ago.

In a few minutes they arrived at room 224. The door was open, but Cosima knocked anyway. Mrs. Moore turned out to be much younger than Cosima'd expected, possibly a little younger than Cosima herself. She was slender, in a conservative grey dress and white cardigan, and she reminded Cosima of a flute player she used to know in college. The room was spacious, and used mostly as a geography room, based on the maps and pictures of multi-ethnic people decorating the walls. The desks were small tables with two chairs each and baskets for student materials underneath.

Mrs. Moore rose to greet them, but paused when she saw Charlotte a step behind Cosima. “Oh,” she said with a smile, “normally, for parent-teacher conferences, the student stays downstairs in the cafeteria.”

Cosima smiled back to show goodwill, but said, “I know, but I thought it would be helpful for Charlotte to be present for this one. I want to make sure she has an active role in all of this.”

Fortunately, Mrs. Moore could roll with that. She gestured for them to sit together at a student desk while she took the one next to it. She had a folder labelled “Charlotte Bowles-Duncan,” and Cosima did not miss Charlotte's physical reaction to seeing her name there. She put her hand on Charlotte's back and gave her a smile.

“So,” Mrs. Moore began, “just to make sure I have everything right here, you're Charlotte's sister, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And she's been living with you for... four months?”

“Five,” Charlotte said.

“Five months, okay.” Mrs. Moore made a note of that and went on. “And there's one other child living in the home, your daughter Kira?”

For a second, Cosima forgot she wasn't Sarah and almost corrected her, but remembered just in time. “Um, yeah, yeah, just her. And us.”

“Okay. And Kira is how old?”

“She's nine.”

“Okay. Great, thanks. I know it seems unimportant, but knowing what's going on at home can really help when we work with students, especially for any behavioral or psychological issues that come up. And she was homeschooled before this year, right?”

Cosima was getting uncomfortable talking about Charlotte as though she weren't there, but Charlotte spoke up to answer that one. “No. I told you before, I took online classes. I wasn't homeschooled.”

“Right. Okay.” Mrs. Moore put both hands on top of her folder and looked from Cosima to Charlotte and back again. “Well, Ms. Manning, as I've told you before via email, Charlotte's acadmic work has been very good, but she seems to be having some problems with other kids here.”

Cosima nodded. She'd heard plenty from Charlotte about two girls in particular, Amy and Sophie, who made fun of her a lot. “Yeah, that's what Charlotte's told me, too.”

“Okay, good. I'm glad she's talked to you about it some.” Mrs. Moore looked encouraged, and nodded. “What has she told you?”

Looking at Charlotte for permission first, Cosima said, “She says she call her names and make faces at her, and sometimes they take things from her desk when she's not looking.”

Mrs. Moore nodded more cautiously this time, and Cosima saw another side of the story lurking around the conversational corner. Before it came, though, Charlotte spoke up.

“Sophie called me an uptight bitch this afternoon.”

Cosima could think of a few people she'd called that, privately, herself, but Charlotte didn't really fit that description. Did she?

“That's right,” Mrs. Moore said. “And what happened before that?”

“Emma Dewey was talking over everybody about whatever stupid boy on the internet she has a crush on. She was sitting in my desk!”

Cosima had a sinking feeling about where this was going, but she let Mrs. Moore ask the follow-up, “And then what did you do?”

“I told her she was stupid and he was ugly and I wanted my desk back.”

Oh boy. Cosima turned to face Charlotte, blocking out the teacher for a few moments. “You told her she was stupid?”

“She is.”

Cosima shook her head. “Charlotte.... no one is stupid. Okay? Even if you don't like them, it's never okay to call someone stupid. Especially not for, what, liking a boy on the internet? I know, these girls are a year older than you, so they might be more comfortable talking about boys than you are, but, listen, lots of girls talk about cute boys.” Cosima rambled on, feeling like she was not getting across the point she'd wanted to get across.

Charlotte tightened her lips and looked into the space between Cosima and Mrs. Moore. “You don't.”

She'd hoped that no part of the conference would swing in that direction, even if she knew Sarah sometimes dated girls, too. “That doesn't matter. I've done a lot of other things that people find ridiculous. I mean, look, it's okay to be upset that she was in your desk, right? But if that's what you were upset about, that's what you should have said. Did she ask you what you thought about the boy?”

“No one asks me my opinion, ever.”

Mrs. Moore coughed. “Actually, Charlotte, sometimes they do.”

Charlotte had no response to that. She picked at her chin until Cosima took her hand away again, and then she picked at the skin around her fingernails, like Cosima had seen Sarah doing a few times. Since Charlotte was quiet, she turned to Mrs. Moore. “Can you tell me more about that?”

“Well, Charlotte's a very bright girl, and the other students know that. They know she had some more advanced courses before, so sometimes they ask her to check their homework or what she thinks might be an easy topic for a project. They haven't asked you in a while, though, have they, Charlotte?”

Oh, boy, Cosima thought again.

“That's not asking for my opinion. That's asking me to do their work for them. They're just lazy.”

“And, I remember Simon asking you once if you wanted to play a game with him and his friends a few months ago, but you told him his game was stupid. Do you remember that?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.”

Cosima sighed and leaned her face against one hand before she addressed that topic. Uptight bitch, indeed, she thought. “I mean, I get not wanting to do someone else's work for them, but...” How could she phrase this? She already knew, from hours of talking to Charlotte on Skype, that Charlotte felt worlds behind the kids in her class, and even from the sixth graders who were her age. Was this just Charlotte's way of compensating for that?

“Can I just -?” Charlotte cut the question off short and fell back against her chair.

“Just what?” Cosima asked.

“Never mind. I'll ask you later.”

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Moore checked the time. “I'm afraid we need to wrap up for today, Ms. Manning. I would like to continue this conversation, though, after the break. I'll send you an email with some dates to consider, okay?”

Cosima nodded, wondering how differently this conference might have gone if Sarah had been able to attend. Sarah would be able to impersonate Cosima well enough for the next conference, too, thankfully.

As they made their way back down the stairs, a girl in a Canadian-flag patterned hijab bounced down the stairs beside them and gave Charlotte a wave and a smile. The girl was thin and about four feet tall, and she skipped away down the hallway as Charlotte thumped down one step at a time.

“She seems nice,” Cosima said. “Have you told me about her?”

“I dunno.”

Cosima wondered if she'd ever been this obstinate as a child. She'd have to ask her parents when they got back to the house. “Can you tell me her name, at least?”

“Her name's Latifa. She's from Syria.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah, but people say nasty things about her, too. They say her parents are terrorists, or that she shouldn't be here. Noah Watley pulls on her hijab on the bus. Most kids don't even know that it's called a hijab. They just call it her 'head thing' or whatever. And they make fun of the way she talks, but she's only been speaking English for a year, and most of them don't even speak another language!”

They'd reached the bottom of the stairs and Cosima looked down the hallway where Latifa had vanished. “That's awful,” she said.

“I keep telling you, kids here are stupid. And I know you just told me not to call people that, but they are! They're stupid and they're mean.”

It wasn't the time to argue with her, as Charlotte's eyes filled with tears, and Cosima remembered the other little girl in a hijab that Charlotte had befriended at Revival. She pulled Charlotte close and wrapped her arms around her little sister. “You can be upset,” she said into the top of Charlotte's head. “I'll never tell you you can't be upset, especially when people are mean like that.”

Charlotte did not cry, but held onto Cosima for several minutes, even as faculty and staff members wandered by and gave them curious looks. “Why can't I just live with you?” she asked, her voice muffled by Cosima's scarf.

“Come on, Charlotte, you know the answer to that.”

“Tell me again.”

She sighed and loosened her arms, but Charlotte still held on tight, making Cosima wonder how many hugs Charlotte got. How many she had ever gotten.

“You can't live with us because we're moving all the time, and sometimes we have to pick up and go to another country with, like, an hour's notice. And sometimes we're in places that would really hard for you to get around in with your leg, and there wouldn't always be much for you to do, and...”

“I can always find things to do. I'm good at that. And I can get along just fine with my leg; you've seen me!”

Cosima pulled back and gave her sister a measured look. “I've seen you walk, but you have a hard time, whether you like admitting it or not.”

Charlotte stepped back now, too, and wiggled in a little kid way, but she was smiling. “But don't you remember on the island? I walked with you for, like, an hour, through the woods, in the dark!”

“Yes, because the village was on fire! We didn't have much of a choice, and that was one time. That wasn't every day, a couple times a day.”

A group of boys walked by, looking at Charlotte but not saying anything, and she returned their silence. To Cosima, they did not seem malicious, simply curious about why the new girl with the leg brace was still here, talking to some woman with dreadlocks in the hallway. After they passed, she pulled out her phone to text Delphine.

“Delphine's gonna come pick us up, is that okay?”

Charlotte pouted, but said, “I guess so.”

“What do you mean, you guess so?” Cosima had only asked the question out of habit. She had never imagined any possible answer other than “sure” or “yes.”

Charlotte punctuated her sigh with an eye roll. “I mean I guess so. I mean it's fine. Whatever. Is she on her way now?”

“Yes, but if you'd rather walk home, I can tell her to turn around.”

“I said it's fine. Come on. She'll probably be here in a few minutes.”

Cosima stood in the middle school hallway, cell phone in hand, and watched her youngest and most vulnerable sister limp away until she reached the junction with the main hall and turned back around.

“Cosima, are you coming or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be right there.”

#orphan black fanfiction #cosima niehaus #charlotte bowles-duncan #post-canon #cophine fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

mveloc · 7 years ago

Text

To Create

Author’s Note: I originally posted this three years ago on AO3, but seeing as how we got a tiny glimpse of Cophine and a baby, I figured I’d repost it here for those interested ;)

“So... boy or girl?”

From the second they’d walked in the door, Alison had been all over them, taking their bags and coats and hanging them in the closet. She damn near dragged the dreadlocked woman over to the couch in the living room as the blonde followed closely behind, trying her hardest to contain her laughter. Her smirk was met by a death glare from behind cat-eyed frames.

“We’re not really sure,” Cosima replies, trying to hide her discomfort as Alison buzzes around her, fluffing pillows and pulling the footrest closer so that short legs can reach it.

“We decided that we want to wait,” Delphine chimes in, taking a seat next to Cosima on the couch.

“Oh, that’s so exciting! I don’t know if I’d have the restraint. I’d want to know right away, so I could start decorating the nursery,” Alison replies. “How about you? Have you started buying things for the baby?”

“Well, Delphine makes me take these fuc--” she pauses, staring over at Oscar, Gemma and Kira playing in the other room and catching herself. “Friggin vitamins. And she made me swear off In-N-Out, which I’m pretty sure is, like, a human rights violation or something.”

Alison laughs.

“No, no. I meant, like, for the nursery. Do you have a crib? A stroller? A diaper bag? A carseat? Unisex clothing?” she pries.

Cosima opens her mouth to reply, but she quickly realizes that she has no response, so she closes it again. She flashes Delphine a panicked look and the French woman smiles at her sympathetically.

“What? We need all that stuff now?” she whispers. “The thing isn’t even coming for, like, another three months. We’ve got time, right?”

“Yes, but these things creep up on you!” Alison interjects, slipping herself between the couple. “It might seem like a lot of time now, but a lot can happen in three months, Cosima. You of all people should know that. Before you know it, you’ll be in the delivery room freaking out because you don’t even have a place for the baby to sleep!”

“Oi! Stop scaring her, will you?”

Sarah finally emerges from the kitchen, a glass of wine in hand and Felix in tow.

“I’m just making sure she understands the reality of having a child,” Alison bites back. “I want her to be prepared. Motherhood isn’t easy.”

“Well, if my sister can do it, I’m pretty sure those two’ll be fine,” Felix says offhandedly. “They’ve got PhDs, Sarah’s got a criminal record. They’re already off to a better start.”

Sarah slugs him in the arm, causing the slender young man to recoil and his wine to rush out overtop the rim of the glass, a few droplets threatening to spill onto the floor. The housewife’s eyes immediately widen at the act.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Alison scolds. “No wine on the carpet! I just had it cleaned! Into the kitchen, both of you!”

As she chases the destructive duo out of the room, Cosima lets out a muted sigh of relief and Delphine’s hand finds her own, grasping it gently. She brushes her fingers overtop her knuckles, stroking softly.

“Don’t worry, mon amour,” she says, reassuring her lover. “We’ll be fine. The baby will be fine. Everything will be fine.”

“Yeah,” Cosima smiles, nodding in response. “It will, won’t it?”

Delphine leans in, pressing her lips to Cosima’s and bringing her hand to the shorter girl’s face, cupping it. The kiss is chaste in nature and the brunette is tempted to taint it with tongue, only she remembers their present company and when they break apart, she becomes painfully aware of a set of eyes on them.

“H-Hey, Kira,” Cosima says, leaning back on the couch.

Kira flashes her a toothy grin, then launches herself forward and wraps her arms around the clone’s neck, nearly knocking the wind out of her. The sudden movement surprises Delphine, but after she watches the young girl settle in Cosima’s arms, her demeanor shifts until she’s starry-eyed and smiling; the first time she ever saw Cosima with Kira, enthusiastically reading the astute child a worn down copy of “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” she knew that one day, Cosima would be carrying her child. Sure enough, that day had come.

Kira reaches forward, pressing the palm of her hand to Cosima’s swollen stomach, tilting her head in fascination like a dog hearing a sound for the very first time.

“Cool, huh?” Cosima asks. “Pretty soon, you’re gonna have a new cousin.”

“What are you going to name her?”

Her question catches both women off guard. They exchange skeptical glances, then stare back down to the child in Cosima’s arms.

“We don’t know if it’s a girl yet, kiddo,” Cosima tries to explain.

“It’s a girl,” Kira replies, matter-of-factly.

The spectacled clone has never once told Sarah that her daughter often freaked her out. Kira is adorable, but her acute awareness for the world around her is far beyond the level of any typical child-- of any typical adult, really. It is as unnerving as it is fascinating.

“Let’s go see what your mom is up to,” Cosima suggests, looking over to Delphine.

The French woman nods. Kira smiles and jumps off her aunt, rushing into the kitchen. Delphine extends a hand to Cosima and helps her to her feet. They make their way into the kitchen to find Sarah and Felix leaning against the counter, bickering with one another, casually sipping on their wine. Alison is tending to the stove, where Helena is also hovering, dipping her fingers into pots and picking at food whenever she has a chance.

“Would you stop that?” Alison asks, swatting at Helena’s hand. “You’re not gonna have any room for dinner!”

“Don’t think you gotta worry about that ever happening, yeah?” Sarah utters with a smirk.

The frazzled blonde responds with a sly grin, her tongue quickly darting in and out in a reptilian-like manner, mocking the soccer mom. Alison rolls her eyes, eventually giving up with the Ukrainian altogether, allowing her to steal tiny tastes. Kira runs to her aunt and Helena lifts her off the ground, holding her over the stove, allowing her niece to assist her with the preliminary taste test.

The sound of the front door slamming shut catches the attention of everyone in the room. Alison calls for her husband, but Cosima, Sarah and Felix all smirk when they hear the sound of heavy boots clunking on tile, knowing it can only mean one person.

“Oh. Hello, Tony,” Alison says with a tight-lipped smile, her eyes focusing on her male counterpart’s dirty boots on her pristine floor.

“Heyo,” he replies with his characteristic, cocky grin. “Where’s the grub? I’m starving over here.”

“Did you bring more wine?” Alison asks, staring at the brown LCBO bag.

“Wine? Why the hell would I bring wine?”

He reaches into the paper bag, tossing a bottle of whiskey in Felix’s direction and a beer at Sarah. They both managed to catch the gifts without dropping them and the siblings immediately light up.

“I’ve got beer and whiskey. Let’s get this party started.”

“Ah. You’re just my type of man, Tony,” Sarah replies with a grin, popping open the tab on the tall can and bringing it to her lips.

“I’m everyone’s type of man,” he says with a wink. “Don’t you forget it.”

Tony places the bag on the countertop and then finally turns to take notice of Cosima and Delphine, combing his eyes over Cosima’s figure before smiling widely.

“Shit. Baby mamma’s a good look for you, Cos.”

Cosima chuckles, opening her arms to invite Tony into a hug. He isn’t around as much as the rest of the members of Clone Club, but every now and then, he makes a point to drop in and say hello, just to see how everyone’s doing and to let them know he’s still alive. When she’d first met Tony, they’d immediately hit it off, bonding over beer and a bong. Of her extended clone family, Tony was probably the one she had the most in common with and so it was easy for the two of them to be. The only real point of contention between the two was Tony’s constant flirting with her girlfriend. Even now, as he embraced Cosima tightly, his eyes were raking over Delphine’s body with a wicked glint.

“Delphine. Looking breathtaking, as always.”

“Dude. You haven’t even stopped hugging me yet and you’re already flirting with my girlfriend,” Cosima mutters into his shoulder.

Delphine simply laughs, a light blush beginning to rise in her cheeks as she chews on her lower lip. Tony carries himself with all the same swagger and confidence as Cosima and despite a raggedy mess of hair and beard, he even shares her face.

“It’s very good to see you again, Tony,” she replies.

Tony finally pulls away from Cosima and steps closer towards the blonde as the dreadlocked clone watches with arms crossed over her chest. He finds Delphine’s hand, bringing the back of it to his lips.

“Oh, no. You’re the sight for sore eyes in this room, that’s for damn sure.”

Felix and Sarah start laughing hysterically while Cosima shakes her head in amazement. She knows she should feel jealous and maybe even agitated with her counterpart, but she can’t help but be blown away by his forwardness, especially with her standing not two feet away from him. She finds it almost admirable.

“You know, I’m standing right here.”

“Yeah, you’re kinda hard to miss these days,” he retorts, offering her a wink and another cocky smile.

It isn’t long before Donnie arrives, returning from the bakery with desert on his wife’s order. It’s been a couple of years since the initial shock of his wife’s true nature, but he’s still very much getting used to the idea of clones. It was somehow easier when it was only Alison and Sarah, but then it became Alison and Sarah and Cosima, and now there are five identical faces sitting at his dining room table and every now and then he has to remind himself to breathe, that he isn’t living in some sort of conspiracy film. Luckily enough, Oscar and Gemma have adjusted well to the news of new aunts and uncles; they light up whenever they see Aunt Sarah teasing Alison and giggle whenever Aunt Helena makes one of her many contorted faces at them; they coo when Uncle Tony lets them touch his beard or when Aunt Cosima brings a new book of experiments to try. There is a strange sense of normalcy amongst all of the bizarreness.

They all settle into dinner with relative ease, swapping stories as readily as food across the table. Tony details what he’s been up to for the four months since he last visited, mostly stirring up trouble across the east coast. Alison gushes about the renovations to the house while Donnie smiles and nods along. Helena is quiet, her eyes shifting from speaker to speaker, observing carefully as she shovels food into her mouth. Everyone asks Cosima about the baby and each time she manages to divert the conversation to the research her and Delphine are doing at DYAD, much to the dismay of the table. Since Delphine has taken over directorship of the DYAD, they’ve been able to steer their research in an entirely new direction. It’s the reason why, despite all of the crimes DYAD has perpetrated upon her and her sisters, Cosima has decided to stay on board.

“Enough science talk, you freak,” Sarah snaps.

“Yeah. I’m not drunk enough for that crap yet,” Tony mutters.

“You seriously don’t have any names picked out for the baby yet?” Alison presses.

“We haven’t decided on anything yet,” Cosima finally relents.

“I always liked Lionel for a boy,” Alison suggests.

“And I always liked the prospect of my child being able to make it past the third grade without being beaten to death.”

The entire table begins to snicker aside from the soccer mom, who glares at the dreadlocked clone.

“Auntie Cosima’s having a girl,” Kira pipes up, tugging on Sarah’s sleeve.

“You think so, monkey?” Sarah asks, resting a hand atop her daughters head and stroking tenderly.

The child nods enthusiastically and Cosima smiles. She glances to her side to find the blonde smiling back at her.

“You will be a good mother.”

Everyone diverts their attention to the Ukrainian who has set down her fork long enough to speak. Her eyes are wide and swimming, flickering in their unpredictability, but there’s an underlying kindness and innocence.

“You are very smart. And very kind. Your baby is lucky.”

Cosima flashes her best megawatt smile.

“Thank you, Helena.”

“One day, I will also have babies.”

She’d come very close before, but she’d forfeited her embryos to save the dreadlocked scientist, an act the mother-to-be will never forget. Her own pregnancy had ended in heartbreak when she lost her child early on while in the military’s hands.

“I know,” Cosima replies. “And when you do, your babies will have lots of cousins to play with.”

The blonde’s grin is small, hardly noticeable, yet the entire room takes note.

+ + + + + + + + + +

The house is alive and vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation echoing off the walls, tickling her eardrums. She closes her eyes for a second and tries to take it all in, all the sounds of life happening around her, inside of her. At times it seems too much, like when Alison is pestering her about names and nurseries, like when her body is betraying her, but other times -- times like this very moment, with Tony and Felix and their boisterous laughter, with Sarah and Helena making faces at each other through mouthfuls of pie, with the squealing delight of a bottled tornado called forth by a golden goddess, solely for the amusement of her cherub-like audience -- it seems like enough to keep going; like the flower petals and honey bees, like the stars in the galaxy and every molecule of her shared DNA, it all falls into place and carries on.

She slips downstairs into the basement, to the very place where she met Sarah for the first time, where Clone Club truly began. She smiles, reminiscing. Sure, the circumstances behind that meeting were far from perfect, but she thinks back on that night with such fondness now.

If feels like a lifetime ago.

Perhaps it was.

She was a different person then, back before she knew Sarah, before she knew Delphine, before she’d gotten sick.

She slides open the back door and steps out onto the lawn. It’s uncharacteristically warm for this time of year, the cool autumn weather a welcome relief against her skin, raising tiny pimples of flesh. She takes a seat on a patio chair and tilts her head towards the sky, trying her best to make out the faint sparkle of stars through the thick smog of pollution. She sits like that, in silent reverence, for several minutes before she hears the door slide once again and feels the presence of another person. Tilting her head, she spies Sarah maneuvering her way through the door, closing it quietly behind her.

“Hey,” she says cheerily, greeting her sister with a smile.

Sarah returns her smile with an identical one, then takes a seat in the chair next to Cosima.

“How’re you feeling?” the punk asks.

“I’m fine. Just came out here for a little air,” Cosima shrugs.

“I hear you. Donnie and Alison are bickering, Felix and Tony are right smashed, Helena’s laid claim to the bloody desert table and your girlfriend is giving the kids an impromptu science lesson. Getting a little cramped in there, yeah?” she laughs.

“About to get a whole lot more cramped, too,” the scientist mumbles.

She says it more for her own ears, but her British counterpart is able to pick it up. She grows more serious, her eyes dragging over the tattooed clone, finally settling on her stomach with a sense of awe.

“Shit. It’s hard to believe you’re having a baby, Cos.”

Cosima smiles.

“I know. Just a couple of years ago, my uterus was trying to kill me. Now there’s a human baking in there. Who would’ve thought?”

They both chuckle, Sarah reaching over to find her sister’s hand. Identical fingers dance with one another, testing and exploring, and several minutes of easy, unadulterated silence pass between them before she finally speaks again.

“You know, I didn’t even know you wanted kids.”

Cosima laughs again.

“I didn’t. Not really,” she replies. “I mean, I like kids and everything, but I never thought they were for me.”

“Why’d you change your mind?” Sarah pries.

“I guess after everything that’s happened, I kinda reevaluated certain aspects of my life,” she tries to explain. “But Delphine always wanted kids. She said she wanted to wait until she was settled in her career before it happened, though. We figured now was as good a time as any.”

Sarah nods.

“I get all that, but... but why you, I mean?” Sarah clarifies. “Couldn’t Delphine... or... you know... adoption and stuff?”

She pauses for a moment to consider Sarah’s question. It’s one Delphine asked her, as well, those many months ago. It’s one she asked herself before she worked up the resolve to follow through. When she had tried to explain it to her lover, Delphine had nodded and accepted her answer, although she doubts the blonde actually understands her reasoning. Sarah, on the other hand, possess an innate clarity that only she and a handful of others do.

“Why you?”

Why, when every molecule of their DNA is entangled with mishap and failure and heartbreak and disaster? Why, with all of the risks involved? Even with Duncan’s gene therapy rendering her fertile, there is an abundance of them. Why subject herself to it all?

“I wanted it to be me.”

She grips Sarah’s hand a little tighter, her demeanor losing its usual lightness, her smile giving way to seriousness. Her eyes narrow as she stares off straight ahead into nothing, reading the air, and Sarah takes note, watching her dreadlocked sister with a head cocked in intrigue.

“Maybe it’s selfish, but for the very first time, I finally had a say in all of this,” she says, gesturing to her body. “It’s my family. Something I chose. No... something I made. No one can take that away.”

No one can slap a patent on that.

“You know, that’s the first thing you’ve ever said that makes perfect sense to me.”

“I know,” Cosima replies with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Even in their outdoor sanctuary, they can still hear the commotion stirring inside and no one seems to take note of their absence, or if they do, no one bothers to come looking for them. Music starts to play and while neither of them can distinguish the song, the sound of Felix and Tony’s voices are all too distinct.

“Looks like we’re missing quite the party in there, yeah?” Sarah jests.

“I’m sure they can do without their geek monkey and their fearless leader for a little while.”

A reserved smile spreads across Sarah’s face.

“Fearless leader, eh?”

“Well, ringleader’s more accurate. I was trying to make you sound noble. Chalk it up to the hormones or whatever,” Cosima retorts.

“Bitch.”

They laugh in unison, Sarah leaning over to rest her head on Cosima’s shoulder. While Sarah has maintained her wild spirit, she’s settled down considerably since she first became a member of Clone Club. The dreadlocked clone suspects that her relationship with Cal as well as her custody of Kira has something to do with it. Her sister has grown in so many ways, but then they all have. As she continues to contemplate their development over the last few years, both women perk up when they hear the sound of a car pull up outside. Not expecting visitors, Cosima gives Sarah a confused look but the punk seems far less bemused.

“That’s probably for me,” she says.

She’s back on her feet, heading over toward the gate. When it swings open and Cal appears, Cosima smiles and watches as he bends down to greet Sarah with a gentle peck. The two exchange a few words the pregnant clone is unable to decipher and Cal finally peers over in her direction.

“Hey, Cosima,” he says with a crooked grin, throwing a half-wave her way

“Hiya, Cal,” she replies, returning his wave with one of her own.

The two of them walk back over to where Cosima is sitting, stopping a few feet in front of her. He gives her a once-over, his eyes wide with surprise. He chuckles to himself as he takes in her new state.

“Wow. You’re looking... very, uh, pregnant.”

“Meh. What can you do?” she shrugs.

“Do you mind if I steal her away for a little bit?” he asks, motioning towards Sarah.

“Not at all. She’s pretty dull company as it is,” she answers, waving her hand dismissively.

“Oi. Watch it, lesbi-friends, or I’ll beat that baby right out of you,” Sarah says with a smirk, a bite with no venom.

“I’m not sure how I would feel about that.”

The heavily accented voice intervenes and they all turn their heads to acknowledge the blonde who’s stealthily slipping out the door into the yard. Cosima meets Delphine’s grin with one of her own while Cal and Sarah nod in her direction. As the taller woman slips into the chair previously occupied by Sarah, the punk and her lumberjack quietly make their exit, disappearing beyond the gate and giving the two women their privacy.

“What are you doing out here without your jacket?” Delphine inquires.

“It’s not that cold.”

“Even so.”

She hands the scarlet coat to Cosima who drapes it over her shoulders. She isn’t cold, but she doesn’t want to argue with the persistently protective blonde. Delphine studies her lover’s face intently as Cosima continues to stare off towards the sky without saying a single word.

“Is everything okay, mon amour?” she pries.

Cosima nods.

“Yeah. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“About what?”

“Oh. Just like... life, death. You know.”

“How very specific of you,” Delphine teases with a laugh.

“Sorry. It’s kinda hard to explain, but it makes sense in my head.”

Delphine simply nods and accepts the brunette’s answer. They’ve been together long enough for her to understand how her lover’s mind works; she accepts the fact the Cosima’s brain functions on a level that she, nor anyone else, will ever be truly privy to. It’s completely natural to ponder the whys and hows of the universe, but for Cosima, every single breath she takes comes with a new perspective, new and unfounded possibilities.

“It’s getting late,” Delphine whispers. “Perhaps we should head out soon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

+ + + + + + + + + + +

She’s all too eager to remove her shoes the second she steps in the door, releasing a long sigh of relief as soon as her feet are free from their confines. She tosses her coat over the back of the couch, ignoring her lover’s quiet sigh of irritation at the act; being pregnant means her messiness goes (for the most part) unchallenged. Delphine quickly scoops it up, hanging it in its rightful place on the coat rack as Cosima disappears into the bedroom, shedding articles of clothing on her way. Despite being only six months along, she feels like she’s been carrying the baby for years, growing a little more uncomfortable every day; her feet are constantly swollen, her back and knees are constantly aching, and her clothes never seem to fit quite right anymore.

“Perhaps if you wore more... appropriate clothes, you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable all the time, ma cherie,” Delphine says, leaning against the doorframe and watching as the brunette digs through her drawer for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“What? Like maternity wear?” she asks, turning to arch a brow in the blonde’s direction.

Delphine shrugs.

“Yeah. No way am I rocking mom duds. You can just put me out to pasture if you ever catch me in a moo moo,” Cosima replies with a suppressed laugh, finally finding what she’s looking for. “Just because I have my own gravitational pull now doesn’t mean I can’t still look good.”

She pulls the sweatpants up her legs, then tugs the oversized Berkley t-shirt down over her head, reveling in the smallest semblance of comfort that she’s been able to find. She was always on the small side, never having to worry about her weight. Even now, swollen with a child, she’s still probably smaller than most pregnant women but it’s an added weight that she simply isn’t able to get used to. Instead of going out and buying more “appropriate clothing,” as Delphine suggested, she took to wearing skirts and looser fitting tops and sweaters, of which she had plenty in her wardrobe, determined to cling to her style.

She feels a pair of arms wrap around her waist and she smiles as the European pulls her back into her chest.

“You always look good, ma cherie,” Delphine says, planting a gentle kiss to the side of the clone’s head.

“You’re just saying that because you have to,” she retorts.

“I say it because it’s true. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Maybe it’s the excess of hormones, but she feels herself beginning to melt. She turns into Delphine, attempting to wrap her arms around her neck, although it’s a little harder than usual with her swollen stomach between them. Delphine chuckles lightly at the awkward attempt, her hands gently cupping the bulge, stroking and caressing. She slowly drops to her knees, pressing the side of her face to Cosima’s stomach.

“Bonsoir, mon petite chou,” she coos. “J'ai hâte de te rencontre.”

Cosima beams, resting her hand atop the French woman’s head, threading her fingers through golden locks while lightly scratching at her scalp. They’re both doctors and yet, something about the miracle of life seems to have thrown them both through a loop.

“Just so you know, you’re totally having the next one.”

Delphine’s smile widens. She rises to her feet once again, cupping the brunette’s face in her hands. She softly presses her lips to Cosima’s in a whisper of affection, stroking her cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs.

“Is that so?” she challenges.

“Mmhm,” Cosima replies, pressing her forehead to the blonde’s. “Given that we don’t kill this one, of course.”

“Cosima!”

Her scolding is met by a light swat to the arm and she giggles as Delphine tries her best to muster a glare, only it comes out far less threatening than the European intends.

“I’m just saying! Have you ever actually seen me with a baby?”

“I’ve seen enough,” Delphine mutters, sauntering away.

She mirrors Cosima’s previous actions, peeling her clothing away while the brunette admires the newly revealed expanse of skin. She digs through the drawer until she finds her own sleep clothes and slips them on.

“Besides. I’ve had enough of doctors tampering with my reproductive organs,” Cosima adds, walking over towards the bed and pulling the covers down so that the two are free to slip inside. “Once this kid comes out, the only one coming near my lady bits again is you.”

“So eloquent.”

“Don’t you know it. Turn of phrase-- yet another genetic gift I have to offer our child.”

Delphine tries her best to stifle her laughter at the American’s wit, but Cosima can see the corners of her mouth upturned in a smile and a grin of her own forms. She leans back against the headboard as she watches Delphine pick up the clothes she had discarded earlier and throw them in the laundry basket, trying her best to maintain some semblance of cleanliness. Once the blonde is satisfied with the state of their bedroom, she follows suit and joins Cosima under the covers.

“I wanna see you get big and fat and pregnant. Then we can see if it’s so funny when you’re the one waddling around like a constipated penguin,” she muses, tucking her head beneath Delphine’s chin and burying her face in her neck.

She inhales deeply, the European’s familiar scent easing away all the tension in her body and the uncertainty surrounding her own mothering capabilities. She knows that as long as they’re together like this, they’ll somehow manage to figure it out. Even if they both prove to be completely inept parents, even if their daughter is as clever and mischievous as the brunette, there’s no doubt in her mind that their child will be loved.

She thinks this is enough.

“You will have to bring me Eskimo Pies every night,” Delphine retorts, wrapping an arm around her lover and pulling her even tighter against her body.

“I can totally do that,” Cosima mumbles against her skin. “Although I can’t promise any of them will actually make it as far as your mouth.”

They both giggle, Delphine’s fingers dancing along the brunette’s back, tracing soothing patterns. A few moments of silence pass, their breathing syncs up as their bodies melt into each other; their typical bedtime ritual. As sleep tugs at her brain, the sound of Delphine’s gentle whisper pulls her back.

“Okay.”

“Hm?” she mumbles.

“I’ll do it.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, another massive smile finds its place amongst her face. She presses a kiss against the French woman’s jugular, garnering an airy sigh.

“Delphine Cormier, are you saying you want to have my baby?” she teases.

“Well, you’re carrying mine, mon amour. I suppose it’s only fair,” the doctor concedes.

Cosima releases a long yawn before nuzzling her face in Delphine’s neck once again.

“True. Very true.”

Delphine shifts, turning the two onto their sides so she is spooning the brunette. Her hands reach around to Cosima’s roundness and settle there, as they’ve done nearly every night for the last six months. She’s grown used to falling asleep with gentle kicks against the palm of her hand.

“We’ve got time. We’ll talk about this later,” she whispers into Cosima’s ear.

Cosima nods and settles into the warmth engulfing her.

“Yeah. I’ll ask you again in three months, when there’s a screaming bundle of joy tearing out of my vagina. Then we’ll see how committed you really are.”

“Must you?” the blonde expels.

Cosima’s lips rise

“You know me. Just trying to keep it real.”

And she does know.

Laying there with Cosima, alive and healthy and vibrant, all smiles and jokes and overwhelming presence, she is reminded of how real this is. Laying there with their child softly rapping, she realizes that despite life nearly fading away not so long ago, here it is again, only this time on the other end of the spectrum; here is life, falling into their hands and not slipping through their fingers.

It’s both human and divine.

#orphan black #cophine #cophine fanfic #fanfiction

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