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asunsetgrace16 · 1 month ago

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✧ 𝗪𝗛𝗬? ⎥ 911

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard

Warnings: This does have spoilers for 8x08.

Summary: Eddie is leaving, and Buck goes to Tommy about it.

Notes: This is my first piece of writing for the 9-1-1 fandom. I am a bucktommy shipper so if you have a problem with that then don't read this.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 1.2k

In the locker room after shift, Buck is quiet and the silence is tense. He knows that today Eddie is telling the team that he is moving, having finally bought a house in El Paso. Eddie told him two weeks ago when he handed in his resignation.

"Guys, I have uh, something I want to tell you all." Eddie says, breaking the silence. Buck is already dressed so he can leave as soon as this is over. He can’t bear to hear it again that he is losing his best friend. Everyone exchanges a look. They can tell that this maybe isn't happy news.

Hen asks, "Yeah Eddie, what's up."

"I bought a house a couple weeks ago." He tells them.

"Oh nice, is it close to us? Did you make sure to pick a good neighbourhood and school." Chim questions.

"Uh yeah I did, but it's not here. It's in El Paso."

And the silence is back. Bobby knew this was coming, so he's leaning against the lockers, calm and cool. Chim and Hen are dumbfounded, mouths gaping like fish, while Buck stands silent, staring at the backpack in his hands.

"Why are you moving back to Texas?" Hen asks tearfully.

"I'm tired of missing out on Chris's life. Now that he's there and Shannon is gone, there's nothing left for me in LA anymore. I want to be a dad to my kid again, and it doesn't look like I will be able to do that here."

Buck sucks in a breath. He wasn't expecting to hear that from Eddie. Obviously Buck knew how much Eddie misses Chris, but how can he say that LA has nothing left for him? Despite not wanting to make it about him, Buck thinks about how he has been Eddie's partner and best friend for eight years, LA can't mean nothing to him, right? What about Buck?

Buck can't take it anymore. He wheels around and stalks out of the locker room without saying anything more to Eddie. Ripping open the door to his Jeep, he leaves the station and just drives. Before he realizes it, he's only got one turn left before Tommy's house. Well, he's here now.

Inside, Tommy is 25 minutes into a movie he doesn't know the name of when someone pounds on his door. "Okay, okay, I'm coming, hold your horses."

He opens the door to find Buck, panting and face twisted with sadness, fist raised to hit the door again.

"Hey, Buck." Tommy says, and sees him visibly flinch. Tommy's heart breaks just a little more.

His voice is small and sad when he asks, "Can I come in?"

Tommy nods and opens the door wider. Kicking off his shoes, Buck follows Tommy to the living room where he gets parked on the couch. Going to the kitchen, Tommy fills two glasses with water.

"What happened?" Tommy asks, sitting as close as acceptable, despite longing to pull Buck into his arms and shield him from whatever hurts him.

"Eddie's moving. Back to Texas." His voice is smaller than Tommy's ever heard it. It doesn't fit with the exuberant, joyful man he grew to love. Tommy lets the silence sit, giving Buck time to gather his thoughts. And if he wipes a tear off his cheek, Tommy will never admit to seeing it.

"Why, Tommy?" Buck breaks the, tears threatening to fall, "Why does everybody always leave me? And logically I know that Eddie moving to El Paso isn't him directly leaving me, but when he told the team today, he said that now that Shannon is gone and Chris may as well be, that there's nothing left for him in LA anymore."

Tommy's heart shatters, listening to Buck- Evan's shaking words and breaking voice. His face cycles through fourteen emotions in fourteen seconds. "Oh Evan." Tommy finally says, softly.

"How, how can he say that? I'm here, you're here, the 118’s here, Pepa is here. I didn't want to make it about me, but this feels a lot like he's leaving me by saying that. First it was Maddie, then Abby, then you. And now Eddie." Buck is defeated. And he looks at it. Shoulders hunched in, trying to make himself as small as possible. Buck faces Tommy, with a look on his face Tommy never wants to see again. He’s going to punch Eddie for making Buck feel this way, even if it wasn’t directly his fault.

Tommy's breath catches on you. He never thought about what breaking up would do to Evan. It makes sense that he would see it as Tommy leaving him, not setting him free. Because he didn't want to be set free.

“Evan, I am so sorry.” Tommy tells him earnestly, not only apologizing for Eddie.

Buck looks at him, a look of wonder creeping onto his face. “You called me Evan.”

“Yeah, I did. And I need to say something, I shouldn’t have left you that night. I was trying to protect my heart, but in the process I destroyed yours. You didn’t deserve that. I’ve spent the last three weeks trying to justify it, but I miss you so much that it hurts.” Tommy breathes deep, collecting himself before he starts crying. “I regret it. Not what I said, necessarily, but how I said it. I should have left the conversation open so we could talk but I got scared and ran.”

“Why were you scared?” Buck asks, moving closer to Tommy.

“I fell in love with you. And it terrified me, because you don’t deserve to have someone like me, with all my baggage and flaws loving you and holding you back.”

“Tommy, I never felt that way. I’m not perfect either. And now I realize that I’ve been putting you on a bit of a pedestal, which wasn’t great, but it doesn’t change the fact that I do admire you. And I love you, baggage and all. I know I jumped the gun a bit by asking you to move in, knowing you have a whole house to your name, but what I really meant by that was that I’m ready to take the next step. Start getting into the nitty gritty stuff in our pasts, lay everything out on the table, really get to know each other.”

They sit looking at each other, having moved closer while they talked. While they confessed their love for each other. Buck is crying now, and Tommy’s not far behind.

“I don’t need to figure anything out because I want you. I want us. I know you set things at my pace before, but now we are going to go at yours.” Buck says, tentatively reaching for Tommy’s hands. Tommy's face shows surprise, and he turns his hand over under Evan’s, gripping his hand tight. They are both crying now.

“I want you too. I never should have let you go. I never want you to ask yourself why people always leave you ever again.” Tommy pulls Evan in, half in his lap, arms wrapped around each other. Evan tucks his face into that spot in Tommy’s neck where he fits like it was made for him. Evan makes a sound, curling his body into Tommy’s.

“I love you.” Buck murmurs.

Tommy presses a kiss to Evan’s curls, and whispers, “So you’ll take me back?”

“Always.”

#‣ ✦ ‣ sunset works ＞ fics #‣ ✦ ‣ 911 ＞〈 bucktommy 〉#911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #911 fic

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666silco · 1 month ago

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Okay! First “official” thought I have come up with, my brain genuinely hurts with confusion about what I just witnessed so I’m dissecting things by what confused me most.

Have been listening to Silco’s final speech to Jinx in her jail cell. Her first response of the phrase “find the will to walk away” was to literally off herself. And yes, the point was clearly that it was up for her to interpret. He was always a vague one I guess.

I think what he really meant, was that he finally realized his thought process was incorrect, that he did not really better himself. “One that started long before Vander and me.” He always had such an ego. That felt quite humble, to me. “We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Wars of self-doubt and accepted limitation.” Accepted limitation. “That day, I let a weak man die, and another was reborn.” He closed off the part of himself that could forgive, be better instead of bitter. Which is totally fair given the circumstances, but if you genuinely have the desire to be the best self you can be, which imo is something Silco was always seeking, both for himself and the things he dreamt of (Zaun, Vander, Jinx) “We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them ‘us.’ I thought I could break free of those I deemed my jailers; but Jinx.. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away.” he admits that it was all a terrible facade that he never gave up. He’s dead now, he can’t go back. He’s literally just a voice in her head now. None of that matters. But maybe Jinx can do something with that.

It wasn’t until she met Ekko again that she was able to see another route.

Silco always had words of encouragement for her, but at the end of the day, Jinx had gaps to fill. Vi, Vander, Ekko. Silco’s word is not and never was gospel to her, and thats something I find so interesting about her character specifically. Mainly because in s1, everyone deemed her to be a lost cause and completely loyal to Silco, like some sort of henchmen, when that was never ever Ever the case.

On that note, I am truly so sad we didnt get to see verbal confirmation about Jinx missing Silco in the way that she missed Vander. No flashbacks, nothing. They were different parents; but Vander got 3 “dad” titles out of the girl. It’s been hinted at for so long, and I really thought we’d get it. But I’ll take what I can get, I guess.

“You’re my daughter. I’ll never forsake you.” I think he truly meant that and she knew it, and agreed.

I am also sad we didn’t get at least one more scene about Silco and Vander’s falling out, and Felicia. That part of the story has been brought up since Act 1 Season 1, and we did not get the last pieces of the puzzle.

I adored this show, though, all of it (even the parts I don’t speak about much) and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life along with a few other special ones. I thought the ending was good.

Im just a bit confused.

That said though, it’s 6:36 am, I only just finished the show a bit ago and these are the first thoughts I have on it at all. I have the rest of my life to think and process it lol.

#arcane #silco #jinx

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f1amboyant · 1 year ago

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Ant's masterlist: charles leclerc x carlos sainz jr

most fics are explicit and nsfw, 18+ only 🔞

Single dad AU

Training Season ~ single dad Charles falls in love with the football coach

Is there some space left in that bathtub? ~ fluffiest fluff and a bathtub

His everything ~ carlos being the best dad and husband to his little family

Snippets: I give up, you won, lap

Thank you series (teammates with benefits turns something more)

Take what you deserve, baby ~ charles goes to carlos' room after the race to thank him like he deserves (post austria 2023)

I’ve got you, baby ~ charles goes to comfort carlos (post austria 2023)

Harder ~ charles seeks comfort in carlos' bed (post dutch gp 2023)

Tell me we have it ~ they are happy (post monza gp 23)

I give the orders ~ after another disheartening race results, Charles needs to get all his frustration out (post us gp 23)

Omegaverse

Happy ~ omega!charles is showing symptoms of pre-heat during a race weekend. Turns out, he's not the one going early into his mating cycle

It was fun, we were pushing like crazy ~ omega!charles has a little bit too much fun in monza racing against carlos and it triggers a heat

The worst Alpha ~ omega!carlos is in heat and goes to a very eager and very very inexperienced alpha!charles

Jealous ~ charles isn't jealous (he is) of how close carlos and roberto are

One-shots

One problem ~ carlos keeps looking at charles and charles cannot handle it

You’re doing great, honey ~ charles is bad at flirting

Corset ~ carlos wears a corset, charles likes it

Alternate Universes

He was is (but also he was not) ~ shadowhunters au

Ficlets

A man straddling your lap while you tell him how pretty he is is so charlos coded

What happened in the south of France (summer break 2023)

Friends, by Chase Atlantic ♪

If you could have had a quicky marriage with anyone, who would it be?

It's my thigh or nothing

i don't care if someone sees us (prince x thief)

charles crosses the finish line second

piano

-> Back to navigation

#charlos fic masterlist #charles leclerc x carlos sainz jr #f1 rpf #f1 masterlist #charlos

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will-pilled · 8 months ago

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Montague

Possibly triggering stuff? Self harm, CA, SA.

Montague personality (summary, due to limited information):

Montague is controlling, as is evident. He comes off as very calm and collected, and seems like a rather calculating and "pulling the strings" sort of man. Can be very aggressive. Headcanons:

He/him cis man - Unlabled but prefers masculine leaning/androgynous individuals. (British cig) It's more aesthetics he's attracted to.

He is not a huge animal person, but Oscar was okay when he was around I guess..

Fashionista and artist, designs his outfits.

Fave colors are blue, white, black, blue-gray, and silver.

Knows a lot about rocks and crystals, keeps it to himself though because he doesn't want to look dorky.

He is very French, and swears in French often as well as muttering to himself and breaking into French speaking when flustered or overwhelmed.

Loves sweet and salty deserts as well as very savory food.

Really likes knives. They're neat.

He isn't a good man. He isn't even an anti hero. But he is very easy to feel bad for.

Not a fan of children, not at all.

Kind of a sarcastic ass hole. Not kind of, a huge one. Dry humor and sarcasm. *Blank stare* "Are you stupid?"

Skin care and hygiene freak, takes pride in how he looks.

The Society was the closest he had to friends, so when they all ditched each other he became bitter as FUCK.

He does want a romantic relationship BUT he also terrified of being close to someone. He doesn't want to risk someone being in control of him or being rejected or left. he has a VERY intense "leave people before they can leave me" mentality, but isn't really aware of it.

Borderline Personality Disorder - Is extremely convinced there is nothing wrong with him which leads him to be very "anti recovery," and makes him indulge a lot in unhealthy habits and actions. Has some narcissistic traits but not enough to have Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

He *appears* calm and collected, but the moment he is sure he is alone he may fall into a hole-in-wall-punching fit of rage. Him breaking things is not uncommon. He takes his anger out on objects the most. He wants to fill the hole in his heart with objects and power. He chases the temporary highs of stealing, the chase, being in control of someone, and even perhaps drugs if he is bored enough. He only smokes in front of others, as he avoids doing most others in front of people due to more noticeable effects. He feels rather empty.

Intense need for control over himself and others, and in turn hates losing his shit. He HATES when things don't go his way for this reason as well, and his stealing also goes into this as he wants to control items and where they are.

A bit of a stalker, but not too bad. Stalking socials is his biggest thing.

(Potentially triggering? Self harm.) He did the eye scar to himself. No cool backstory or funny accidents. He did it to himself to look the way HE wanted to look. To control how he looks and what happens to his body. He never talks about how he got it, but loves it. Likely has other scars as well in intricate patterns and pictures. Doesn't really do it anymore because he honestly got bored of it. Not because he got better in any sense of the phrase.

(!CA, SA!)

Montague grew up with a very emotionally abusive and controlling father (Montague is sadly repeating the cycle it seems). He wasn't hit much by his dad, but was often picked on by peers for his queerness and being "girly." which caused his aggressiveness, though since he can do "whatever he wants" he is more open about it now. Not really "price flags everywhere" kind of open (though ngl I could see Meowscles being like that fucking bi and transgender ass cat) but more of a "clear closet"/"Is he... Y'know?" kinda open. He doesn't care for either parent much, they were both distant and let money raise him so he doesn't have much of an attachment to either of them. He has no feelings for them and when he came to the island he felt little to no grief at losing his old life other than his money and power.

He was assaulted when he was a young adult for a period of time by an employer, who had a great deal of influence and control. This is also where Montague's "I want influence and power" mindset comes from as well, so he will NEVER be at someone else's mercy again. He feels anger over it. He is no "perfect victim."

#montague hcs for twitter #I have a little community on there now :3 #montague #fortnite #montague fortnite #fortnite montague #tw sa #tw child abuse #cw queerphobia

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delphiealmond · 9 months ago

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A Fallen Apple From the Apple Tree

⋆☾⋆𓅮❦⛧⋆☾⋆

Pairing ➸ Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor

Synopsis ➸ Lucifer Morningstar believed that Heaven was a sanctuary, the best place for a soul to be in. Growing up with his brothers was the easy part, until God summoned him and his older brother Michael to guard over the portal between realms. Slowly, Lucifer begins to see how frightful Heaven really was. Sought out to defend the sinners of Hell, tragedy strikes among the Archangels. But a familiar face makes Lucifer think that maybe defending his opinion wasn't the worst idea he could've had. Does this familiar face bring him peace? Or does Lucifer end up getting stuck in another twisting cycle of lies and betrayals?

Warnings ➸ None for this chapter

⋆☾⋆𓅮❦⛧⋆☾⋆

MASTERLIST : Previous / Next

Chapter Three (1.6k)

“Luci!!” Michael shouted, shaking his younger brother. He remembered everything that happened the previous night. The discussion, the yelling, the fighting. He remembers seeing the red and black blood. He remembers the Cherubim’s. He remembered the six deadly sins.

At first, he didn’t quite know what caused Lucifer to become so frightened. He was with one of the Cherubim’s, he should’ve been protected. The other boy, he didn’t seem harmful. Though, it was Hell. He should’ve been better at this. He should’ve been with Lucifer instead of being in his dad’s arms. He should’ve shielded Luci with himself so the little demon child didn’t scare his younger brother.

He didn’t know what Lucifer saw. All he saw himself was just the fighting. The deer boy was lying on the floor, cowering while Cherubim held his weapon pointed at the child. Then Satan reacted, which caused even more of a fight to break out.

“Luci, wake up!” Michael shook the younger boy again, only for Lucifer to groan in reply. He buried his face into his blanket, before peering up at his older brother.

“What…?” He muttered.

“Are you okay?” Michael crawled onto his bed, sitting on the other side as he pulled the blankets over himself. Lucifer rolled over, facing Michael as he looked at him. His own blonde hair was a mess on his head as he cuddled the plush duck in his arms.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure…?” Michael frowned. “I… I should've been there.” He pouted, looking at the ceiling.

“What do you mean…?” Lucifer asked. “You were there.”

“I was with Father, I should’ve been protecting you.”

“You were scared,” Lucifer muttered. “And I was curious. Don’t blame yourself, Michael.” He smiled at him, and the older brother knew that Lucifer was only trying to make him feel better.

“You got scared too…”

“Only for a minute.” Lucifer pouted, sitting up in his bed. His pjs were thrown askew, as he rubbed his eyes. “Anyway, the Cherubim was there, and I didn’t get hurt-”

“The boy did…” Michael sat up as well. “He got hurt…” Lucifer paused. He stole a quick glance over to his brother as a frown appeared on his face.

“He shouldn’t have gotten hurt… I was the one who said the wrong thing…” Michael sighed, watching Lucifer try to convince himself that he was the bad guy.

“Come on, Luci, you’re not bad…” He sat up and pulled Lucifer into a hug. “He was bad, he was scary… I think he was even the son of the leader guy that was there..”

“I don’t think so…” Lucifer huffed, his cheeks puffing out as he crossed his arms, just accepting his brother’s hug, yet he didn’t hug him back.

“I have to say sorry.”

“No, you don’t.” The booming voice echoed through the room, and both boys turned their attention to the man in the doorway. God smiled at both of his children as he entered the room. He closed the door behind him, as he headed over to Lucifer’s bed.

“Father..!” Michael smiled, jumping off the bed as he ran into God’s arms.

God picked up Michael, nuzzling his head against his son’s before he sat down on Lucifer’s bed. He placed Michael in his lap as he tried to fix Lucifer’s blonde locks.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything that happened yesterday.” He spoke, yet, this time, his voice was soft and kind. “I shouldn’t have brought you both with me in the first place…” He looked down at Michael.

“Did the boy really get hurt…?” Lucifer asked, shifting closer to his father as he cuddled the plush duck in his arms. God didn’t really answer him, as he fixed Michael’s bangs.

“Father…” Lucifer asked, a frown on his usually joyous face. God sighed, before smiling to Lucifer.

“It’s none of your concern now, Luci.” He patted his head. “I hope you never have to go back down there. It’s not for people like us… Not for children like you.” He gently pinched Lucifer's cheek, yet the action didn’t cheer the boy up.

“How about the two of you spend the day with Sera?” God suggested. Michael lit up immediately.

“I wanna hang out with Sera!” He jumped off his father’s lap and rushed over to his own bed. Lucifer frowned, hugging the plushie as he rested his head against the top of it.

“Trust me Lucifer,” God gently cupped the boy’s cheek. “He learned his lesson that way. If something bad had happened to you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.” He muttered.

Lucifer sniffled, rubbing his eyes. He looked up at his father, yet, he felt even sadder.

“People shouldn’t get hurt because they’re trying to defend the only thing they know…” He frowned, only to get out of his bed as he headed over to his dresser. God sat there, taking a deep breath as he watched his two oldests. He sighed, standing from Lucifer’s bed as he headed over to the door.

“I’ll let Sera know to come by and pick the two of you up. Maybe you could go for some ice cream and a play day at the park.” He encouraged.

Michael beamed at him, a bright smile on his face, while Lucifer just nodded, pulling out an outfit from his dresser.

~~~~

War and chaos ensued around them. The orange sky lingered, the pentagram displayed brightly as the fiery balls of death slowly rose and fell from the volcanoes that surrounded all of Wrath.

Sinners screamed, cried and fought. Battles lingered around every corner, a new dead body every five minutes. Sinners were none other than selfish people who wanted nothing more than everything for themselves. Very similar to the way God was described to him as he sat up in his room, watching the only thing he knew tick by him with every second.

A knock on his bedroom door and his ears twitched. It was pushed open as Satan stood in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his son. He knew what happened yesterday was too much for the boy to handle. He was so young and he should NOT have been attacked the way he had.

“Are you okay…?” he asked. Alastor sighed, pulling his gaze back to the outside world.

“I’m fine…” He muttered.

“Al,” Satan took a step in, closing the door behind him as entered. “I apologize. I should’ve kept an eye on you, kept you close.”

Alastor sighed, shaking his head as he looked at his father. He glanced down to his arm, a white bandage wrapped around it, protecting it from infection.

“I wanted to be there,” He said, standing from his spot. “And I was the one who got myself hurt in the first place.”

“Next time, you’re staying home.” Satan said, sitting at Alastor’s desk. “I don’t want you interacting with Angels again… You’re too young to deal with this type of stuff.”

“But…” Alastor frowned, his ears laying flat against his head. “Isn’t that why I was there in the first place…? So then, if something happens to you…” He paused, looking at his father.

“It’s too soon to bring you into this type of authority. For now at least.” Satan stood, heading over to Alastor as he pet his head, fluffing up his ears. “When you're older you can learn. For now, be a kid.” Alastor frowned, yet his ears twitched.

“He was interesting…” Alastor commented. “Before all of it happened, he seemed… Almost intrigued by the world we live in.”

Satan chuckled, rubbing Alastor’s back.

“Our world is specifically for us, Alastor. Angels aren’t allowed to be down here, and that’s why he was so curious about it all. It’s new for them, just like if we went to visit Heaven, it would be new to us.”

“I don’t ever want to go up to Heaven…” Alastor frowned, yet his tail wagged back and forth. “I think it’s too… wholesome.”

Satan laughed.

“Ah, that’s my boy.” he messed up his hair before he headed over to the bedroom door. “Come down for lunch, Miss Rosie is here.”

Alastor’s ears perked up. He got himself ready, fixed up his hair and fluffed up his ears. Miss Rosie was a bit older than him, but he found her more enjoyable than other children he’s played with. She was kind, and funny. She understood him similarly to his father. He liked spending time with her, whether it be in the back garden of bushes and thorns, or walking through the streets of the Wrath Ring.

Happily heading down the stairs, Alastor was met with the lovely Miss Rosie. She smiled at him, her eyes pitched as the darkness that lingered in her soul, but her smile almost deadly.

“Alastor!” She rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled him into a tight hug.

“Rosie,” He squeaked, gently patting her arm.

“I heard what happened!” She looked down at his arm, gently taking it. She saw the black blood trying to seep through the bandage. “Are you okay?!” She nearly shouted.

“I’m fine,” He took his arm back, folding his arms behind his back as he smiled at her. “Where are we going today?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” She put a hand on his shoulder, only to link her arm in his. “Mr. Satan, I’m going to take Alastor out for a few hours, and we’ll be back before dinner!” She smiled.

“Of course! Go have some fun, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He spoke.

Alastor nodded, his tail wagging with excitement as he and Miss Rosie left the house.

Yet, Satan sat there, watching his son leave as a deep frown appeared on his face. He glanced at the overlord who stood by him, a frown on her own face.

“We have to do something about the angels.” He said. She looked at him, a heavy sigh from her lips as she nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

Notes➸

Hi!!! I hope you don't mind that I made Alastor's blood black! I thought it would be pretty cool given in this AU he's the son of a deadly sin! Also, I'm literally so excited to write about Heaven, given that Hazbin focuses in Hell??? I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do!!!

If you wanna be added to a taglist, just lemme know and I'll try to add you!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #del's creativity #alastor

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wife-of-jonathan-kent · 2 years ago

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"My lovely boy"

Jon Kent x Fem! Reader

INSPIRED BY : YES TO HEAVEN - LANA DEL REY

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

Alien

Freak

Monster

He knew they were doing that just to get under his skin, he knew that. But he could not stop it. He cried. Superboy cried. Alone. In his childhood room, cying his eyes out. He was all alone.

His dad left him in charge of Metropolis while he was gone and he was not prepared for the things he would hear. I hurted him really. Since his return to Earth, it was not the same. Losing his one true friend, years under control of Ultraman changed him. Not only physical but even mental. He hated it. His years of childhood was stolen and it will never be brought back no matter how much he wanted and tried.

But right now the only thing he could do is cry. Cry, cry, cry and it hurted. Son of Superman, Superboy, Man of Steel it didn't matter everything hurt and it was horrible.

Jonathan sat there, his cries muffled by the fast breaths coming from his throat. His head hurts and it is absolutely horrible. First time he felt powerless and damaged in the worst way possible. He is alone, all alone and broken.

"Jon?" it was like a voice of an angel. Sweet like honey, warm as summer breeze.

"Oh Jon, what happened to you?" He hears the soft steps, coming close and closer, bringing feelings of love.

(Y/n), the fifteen years old girl, who stayed at his side since the time he got from space. If you asked Jon right now, when did they met, he wouldn't know. The only important thing is that she is here. An embrace he needed.

"Jonathan what happened? Are you hurt? Did something happen to Lois? Or your dad? Love talk to me..." There it was, the soft voice fron the East. Her soft British accent, he always loves to hear.

He smiles, lifting his hand to her face, his palm gently brushing her cheek. He loves them, the softness, the beautiful (s/c) that just settles with her eyes. She is perfect. More perfect than anything.

And you are a freak. An abomination to society. A monster of destruction. Alien!

Only the thoughts of those words, hurt him. (Y/n) watches as Jonathan breaks down, crying his eyes out, his voice barely recognisable, cover in wimps and muffled cries.

"Oh, Jonathan..."She hugs him and he gladly returns it. He needs support, he needs the help and she is here, with her arms open.

"It's okay Jon, it's okay. Let it all out..." with that words, Jon couldn't stop it, his cries became louder, his eyes watering and sending crocodile tears down (Y/n) 's deculte, as she hugs him closer. It was easier for him, she knows that, what ever happened it hurted him and this was his only way of getting his pain out.

(Y/n) lent herself on the bed, getting herself comfortable on the hard wooden floor. Her hands circled in Jon's hair as his head lays in her lap. It took Jon good half an hour to calm down and still you could hear small cries coming from his mouth. He curled himself into a ball, trying to make himself smaller with his head under (Y/n) 's safety.

"What happened that it broke you so bad?" She says as she tries to change her sitting position, resulting in strong arms wrapping around her torso.

"Don't leave me. Please..."

"Don't worry about that. I want just to make myself comfortable... What if we get you to bed Jonno?" he nods, still motionless on the floor. (Y/n) signs as she puts her hands under his arms, slowly lifting him up.

Surprisingly he was lighter than she expected, but it still resulted in her dropping to bed with Jon on top. (Y/n)'s face burns bright red, her body steel, while Jon on the other hand, buries his face in the crock of her neck, hus hands cycling around her waist.

"Jon this is a little awkward.. Could you-"

"Please don't go... I'm not a monster..." her heart aches from his words. Why did he think that? Why did he even put a mind to that?

"Oh Jon, oh my darling love..."She wraps her arms around his back, one of her hands finding their way to his hair.

"You are not a monster. You are the sweet man i met."(Y/n) says as she gives him a light kiss on his head. Jon slowly moves to her right, keeping her locked in his hands. She smiles looking at his puffy blue eyes, almost red from crying. She lifts her hand to his face, loving evedy part.

"My Superman. I couldn't ask for more." Jon's broken face turns into a sweet smile, putting his forehead on hers.

"(Y/n)... Am i a freak?" she just shakes her head, hugging Jon to her, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. He lifts his head, capturing her lips in his. The sweet taste if honey and love, filling his head. He loves it. It calms him.

"Never, my lovely boy. Never..."

#jon kent x reader #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #jonathan samuel kent x reader #superboy

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emperorsfoot · 1 year ago

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Oh! You are the author of the fic I keep refreshing my marked for you page for instead of studying for an exam that can make my school longer!

I love omega Kon, and I absolutely adore your omega Kon. I think a lot of omegaverse have a tendency to feminize the omegas and your Kon and in general your omegas don't fall to that. I also feel like instinct/we-are-sentient-human-beings-we-can-think is apropriatly balanced in your fic.

Oh and I am so ready for the "We accidentally bonded" reveal. I think we are very close with Kon in the closet-nest now. I feel it is gonna be trigering to Clark. (Oh will Lex realize? How will he react? Why do I feel like he wanted to break the chain but the moment he perceived as the chain being established he went full berserk instead of trying to repair the relationship as much as he can. Does he actually care about Kon as his pup, or did I just get that because I am hungry for good dad Lex.)

And the Batman knew Clark had a pup and that he left the pup with Lex reveal. How will Clark react to one of his biggest and most well hidden insecurities being known by Bruce. Will he freak out? How will he react once he realizes that if Bruce knew, he didn't care-well, didn't care is the wrong word, that it didn't change how he felt about Clark?

Also the Kon wants to court Tim reveal. My god how will Tim, who has been keeping himself back(as much as he can) because Kon has an alpha, react to being said alpha. How will Kon, whom has been falling for both of Tim's identities even with both trying to keep themselves in check react to both his crushes starting to recipricate.

And then the reveal of Tim Drake is Robin. Will Kon be mortified (yes), will he realize both started acting more into him once Robin learned he liked Drake.

Or Tim is Robin can be revealed before Kon likes Drake. In that case would Kon think that every single drop of kindness he received from Drake, everything that made him have a crush, was because they were mated? Oh boy, you can get a whole 'nother series from that.

Man there are a lot of reveals I am so excited for! It is like identity porn×500.

I am also so excited in a fake-science way. I just love world building and science, I adore stories where 'magic' is seen as science and there is innovation and-(I cut 3 paragraphs of me rambling about how electricity is magic, from here. It ended with "WE HAVE MAGİC ROCKS(magnets)!!!!")

I am always interested in how people handle omegaverse, like whether they use some out there smell like vanillia or pinapple, softer smells like hay and chlor or just alpha/omega that is just slightly different for everyone which I think is more realistic and I have loved how you handled all of that. I kinda wanna hear more about the chemistry+biology behind the mating like

I am very excited-in the fake-science way-for the discussion about the potency of the bite(between Tim and Kon). Unless I imagined it, the amount of veins/longevity of the bite was longer then what that size of a bite waranted. I know it might just be something like the adrenalin of the fight but I dunno, I like "we aperantly are very compatible" stuff, I think that registers in my brain as soulmates in a biological sense even though that doesn't make sense.

And of course Kryptonians or any alien adds another level, weird alien biology is a good tag. And how you handled Kryptonians was also great, i just adored the difference between the nests.

(I have this multiverse Au where a more advenced "human" civilization created kryptonians+others as weapons and then got eredicted and the humanity on earth is like the left overs/exiled ones. And that's why Kryptonians have a fricking kill switch and are human looking. Now if I was creating a species as a wepon I would like to keep them from multiplying with my species and in an omegaverse setting turning which subgender triggers the mating cycle would be a great way)

Also would getting a tranquilizer agent, say one that is airborn, automatically dispensed into the room then get someone to seperate the pair work for the heat triggers rut/rut triggers heat situation. But I guess kryptonians and humans would need different doses/stuff and whoever is awake would fight against someone trying to take their mate away. Maybe an internal insuling pump like thing? I mean, if you do it like once every 6 years to just get a child a small surgery would be fine for me. Or maybe like one of those autometic tranq guns, in that case you can deliever different doses/shit as well. And I mean, either the needle would need kryptonite or they need to be under red sun lamps for a longish while but I think the second one would work if both sides are willing participents.

Having said that, there is also the fact that the mating "bite" between Tim and Kon triggered a kinda heat and rut and I think it would have turned into a real one if they spent it together. So like is that a one time/just got mated thing or like will the same thing happen every time they bite, if it is a mated thing can they like triger it again and again by just leting someone erase the mark and mating again or did they lose their chance (would the same heat triggers rut/rut triggers heat cycle happen). And how did Lex and Clark missed this in their research?

Oh and the reveal of Kon (probably)being able to have children, like, I think he internalized that he can't have children (that he can't give pups to his alpha) but nope, there is nothing wrong with him actually, he just took after his carrier. (I mean if I was him, a hybrid whom is not having a cycle like I think I am supposed to, I would assume I was infertile. Also holy fuck Lex, I know you wanted to keep how he was concieved from Kon but like talk to your child, like "Kryptonians don't get heats regularly, in Krypton a rut triggers a heat, so we triggered mine to have you" wouldn't even be a lie and I personally wouldn't assume rape from that and I am sure Kon never spoke about how he thought he was infertile to fucking Lex Luthor but sex ed my man, you have to give the speach before they ask for it, wtf?)

And also Kon's life is gonna change so bad man. Like, my guy was the heir to Lex corp, he is smart enough to be, clearly, and now? Man, there needs to be a way to get him Lex corp, like, Tim that would make a great courting gift. I just can't find a way, like, Lex probably haven't updated his will, so like... throw him permanantly in jail, like he raped an omega, force mated him, kidnaped said omega, force mated him again, kidnaped(?)his son and like That should be more them enough to throw him into jail right? Ugh, that's the one part I am not ready for.

At this point I just want fluffy nest cuddles man...

(Sorry I rambled A LOT. I am just so fricking excited, also wanna avoid studying for that exam, also english is not my first language, in general sorry)

😳

I am overwhelmed

Here. Have Clark cuddling Conner in the nest, drawn by me

#71kedi-yip #Ask #answered #renkonnairu #Conner kent #kon-el #clark kent #kal-el #timkon #superbat #fan fiction #fan art #my art #renkon draws #renkon's art

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sungam-supo · 4 days ago

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Just got done reading the last TF2 comic.

I'll be real, I dunno how to feel about it.

Think fast, chucklenuts. Spoilers below.

Now I think the reason why I feel mixed to the whole thing could possibly stem from me currently not being actively into TF2 at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I'll always love the series. It has brought so much joy into my life. It helped create so many treasured memories. I met so many wonderful people, some that I'm still friends with to this day. However, I sort of fell off due to multiple reasons. Life, lack of updates, community bs, the bot problem. Not to mention the bitter sweet memories. The painful reminders of stuff I don't think I can fully talk about here.

This game and the goofy lore that came with it has been one of my biggest hyper fixations for almost 15 years.

Anyways, the comic was not quite what I expected, but in a good way. Sort of. I'll admit I wasn't big on some of the outcomes for certain characters. The art was amazing, as usual. Some really good visuals. I loved the multiple issue covers, hinting at just how scrambled a particular character's memory had become.

I don't have the spoons to cover everything from the comic, so here are some loose thoughts on random sections:

The beginning sort of gave away that everything was gonna be fine (for most of the cast), by revealing a time skip. I know the whole issue all over the place to keep the reader guessing, but it did get a little old at points.

Not surprised that Soldier had kids. Also it ain't a tf2 comic without him getting completely naked for seemingly no reason at all.

Scout having kids was a bit more surprising. Very wholesome though. The way he's stepping up as a single dad is so cute.

Oh right... Spy face reveal. It was fine. He looks like the fan made maskless spy model that has been around for years. Guess they didn't want to rock the boat with the fan interpretations?

Scout and Pauling did not hook up. I'm honestly glad, as I felt they worked better as just friends.

Glad that there was no Pyro unmasking and/or gender reveal. They are a fire starting enigma, better keep it that way. The fandom would not survive otherwise.

Heavy looked hot with a beard. No further notes.

Really upset that both Demoman and Medic barely said/did a thing this issue. I know Medic had a lot of character moments in previous comics, so I can sort of let that slide. But my man, Demo? They did him so dirty. We don't even get any hints as to what they got up to after the time skip (granted its like that with most of the mercs). Never a good day when your faves do literally nothing.

Same could be said for Sniper, although his arc was more about finding his real parents (then regretting that decision).

Good on Engineer for ending the cycle.

Good on Pauling for ending (allegedly?) a cycle also.

Gonna get blasted for this, however- I was kinda bored with Saxton's sections. Yeah, it was important to see how his arc ended (predictably at that), I'll admit that at least.

I think they literally forgot about Olivia. Like, for real, forgot that she was a character. Her "story" was such an afterthought.

Helen girl bossed a little too close to the sun and I was there for it.

We got to spend christmas with the mercs. Best wall break ever.

Alright, I can't just sum up my feelings on the biggest reveal in bullet points.

It was fine. Almost fitting in a sense.

I was honestly a bit mixed on Helen's "motives". Mainly because she literally forgot why she did everything. Yeah obviously she was getting revenge for something. The whole lore of TF2 has been building up to this moment. When it is revealed that she's been doing everything just to spite one man, yet in the end, loses her way.

I know it is implied she did it to avenge her family (mainly parents). The variations of the cover art hint that even she cannot remember how it happened, or if it even happened at all. Hate and grief can mess with a person's head in many ways, yet there is also the fact that she's lived for many years. You know how humans aren't naturally immortal? Mainly our brains would not be able to retain every memory in detail. If a person lived for centuries, they could forget a lot of important stuff about themselves, including things like family, partners, achievements, heck... even their own names. So it is not out of the realm of possibility that Helen has truly forgotten as to why she started all of this.

That or the writers were scared that nothing they could come up with would be satisfying enough for the community.

The reason why I find this fitting, is mainly from when Engineer tells Pauling that this was all for nothing.

Because from the start, TF2 barely had anything. It was never planned nor expected for it to get to this point. At launch it almost expected to be like every other FPS that was out at the time. It had no story. Hardly any characters to speak of. Yet despite all odds, there was something that most players found charming that they kept playing. Eventually forming a strong community that created and shared thoughts, ideas and theories on who the mercs are. Valve was more than happy, yet overwhelmed with this response, as even they've mentioned that none of them expected things to develop the way they have.

So in a way, it feels to me like the writers were saying that it was honestly never meant to be deep. TF2 has hardly taken itself seriously since day one. Valve literally never thought they'd get this far. Perhaps they never had a true ending in mind, but attempted something as a way of thanks.

And I'm more than alright with that.

I know it seemed like I picked at certain bits, but honestly, I was satisfied with what we got in the end (least we got it period). This was not on my 2024 bingo card at all. I still love this game, even though I don't play it anymore (and possibly never will again). TF2 has been my longest surviving fixation and I know I have a lot to thank it for.

I think I've exhausted all of my spoons. So sorry for the rambling. Ima end it here, aha.

#don't wanna put this in the tags #just ignore my ramblings lol #its kinda bittersweet #but honestly just glad we got an ending #I know some old faces are gonna message me about this #I kinda just wanted to get this out and rest #I'm handling a lot right now aha

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myfanfic-urfantrash · 10 months ago

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goddamn who tf out here making thirsts that bad 😭 *looks away from my own* i healed from brain rot but dived back in bc i want some wholesome things on my name too

i know you’ve talked about pups already, but i wanna expand on it bc it’s a cute topic

blade would not want pups like you said, but i think if he did have one, he’d be terrified to hold them at first because he’d think his mara would affect them somehow or hold onto them too tight (strong hc that he was terrified to touch people for the longest time bc he thought he’d hurt them from not being able to control his strength). buuuut, once he was gently reassured and got the little one in his arms after a few days to get used to them, that man would not let that kid go 😭 his mate would probably have to “fight” him to hold their pup longer than five minutes bc he’s being protective

jing yuan, same thing, except he wasn’t scared to hold them. A+ dad, would 100% make dad jokes (save yanqing and jy’s mate for the love of aeons), giving his mate a break if they needed it with what he could handle (like feeding, changing diapers, etc) he would probably pout if he had to let them go bc they needed to be fed or if he had to go to back to work because fu xuan caught him slackin and realized he was lazing off at home to get out of doing paperwork

- messy nest (my brain shut off for welt and luocha, my two boys are living in my brain rent free)

Yay wholesome :D

cw: omegaverse, pregnancy mention

Blade

His omega got pregnant the day their heat/rut cycles synced up for the first time.

When he heard the news he wasn't entirely sure what to do at that point but didn't throw a fuss when his omega decided to keep the pup. He watches over them like he would if he was in rut which has almost lead to a few people(Kafka) to almost lose their limbs when they got too close to his mate for his liking.

Wasn't present during the birth as a script had to be completed but he's present afterwards and is stunned to see his smiling, though exhausted, omega with their new pup.

With how cautious he is as he approaches their side you'd think there was some sort of enemy in the room but it's just a baby. He doesn't reach for them or do much except stare at them like they could attack at any moment. His omega understanding he's simply out of his element and worried about his own strength and mara, offers up their pup for him to hold, gently guiding his hands and arms into the proper position before handing him their pup.

He actually shakes before the pup is in his arms but stills almost instantly once he feels how warm they are through their little blanket. It's a sweet sight seeing him relax and calm down from his anxiety that his omega is surprised how stubbornly he clings to them when it's time for them to nurse their young.

It's comical how he twists himself to the side to keep their hands away from the pup, Kafka and Silver Wolf snicker as they come in with gifts. He eventually relents though after all their pup needs to be fed but as soon as they're done he wants them in his arms again.

More than happy to take the pup to tend to them while his omega rests. He'll feed, change, etc his pup just good luck getting them back.

Jing Yuan #1 Dad

His omega gets pregnant the same way Blade's mate did, during the first time their heat/ruts cycles sync. Of course the biggest difference is he made absolutely sure they'd be knocked up by the time the week was over.

Made sure nothing would stop him from being present for their pups birth, he even asked Fu Xuan to divine the exact time and date to make sure he had it off. Present during the birth and his hand might be broken but details, it was worth it he tells his mate as they apologize.

Holds his pup carefully with a little assistance in getting them into his arm while Bailu mends his hand. He's absolutely smitten and pouts when he has to let go of their pup so they can be taken care of.

Best Dad award goes to him as he's taking care of his pup without being asked while his omega recovers their strength. He might get Yanqing to help so he gets used to handling the little one and learning his responsibilities as their older brother.

It's like he's been waiting his whole life just to be able to make dad jokes. His mate and Yanqing are sick of him already.

Gets into all sort of trouble because he's using the pup as an excuse to leave work. Yanqing and Fu Xuan will drag his butt back to work while he pouts having to leave the pup home. On some days he'll bring the pup with him to work including meetings. Mimi adores their pup to bits and will watch over them as they sleep, Jing Yuan has to fight them for the pup because she will not let him have them it's hilarious.

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causetheturtle · 1 year ago

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Thoughts while rewatching season 3 of Riverdale:

1. K why did Alice’s farm style slay so hard? Like she looked so great

2. Love how Archie is literally in this prison FOR FUCKING MURDER and still nobody is scared of him - they saw this man in his nice little shoes his rich girlfriend gave him and were like “yeah this man is ducking useless”

3. VERONICA STOP BUYING YOUR BOYFRIEND NICE THINGS WHILE HE’S IN PRISON! He’s just gonna get this shit stolen your dad was in jail how do you not know how a prison works?

4. It’s so sad that the normies got hold of the “epic highs and lows of high school football” line because it really is such a perfect Archie line - this man is naive and kind hearted enough to believe a game of football is all that’s needed to fix the structurally broken prison system but if you haven’t watched the show and don’t know anything about Archie then it’s obviously gonna seem ridiculous

5. Riverdale relationship drama is so funny cause it’s like “Betty had a stress related seizure due her mother and sister joining a cult and didn’t tell Jughead” or “Veronica isn’t sure of the best way to help Archie through his time in prison”

6. Kevin asking Moose if he’s embarrassed by him of course he is Kevin have you met yourself? Your literally the worst

7. Organising a musical number and cheerleading routine for her boyfriend while he plays a game of football in prison is actually the most normal reaction Veronica Lodge has ever had to any situation ever

8. Realising I talk about Riverdale the same way all of the G&G players talk about G&G

9. Imagine being an adult in Riverdale and hearing that a new bar opened up under Pop’s and going for a night out to check it out but you get there and it’s just a load of teenagers doing musical numbers and drinking mocktails

10. Why is FP’s immediate reaction to any situation ever to just grab his son’s face and yell at him? Begging for this man to have a normal non-abusive reaction to something just one time

11. Will never stop thinking about the Midnight Club. It was the first episode of Riverdale I really watched and it’s still one of my favourites. Like the way all of the parents tried so hard and came so close to breaking their moulds and forging their own paths but they never did and just fell into exactly what the world and the people around them wanted to be AND how their kids are all in the same situation now? The narrative, the cycles, the generational trauma! This episode has everything

12. Knowing now that Sheriff Keller actually WAS into guys the whole time and it was just that he didn’t want to be with Moose’s dad makes the whole situation so much funnier

13. The idea that they were all booking out the bunker for certain nights a week is so funny - like did they have physical a schedule? Who kept the schedule? Did it just sit in like the offices of the Blue and Gold?

14. I fucking love Archie and Josie together and have fully convinced myself that Josie is somehow California Women

15. It needs to be studied what exactly the Heathers episode did to my brain because that one episode of TV completely rewired my brain chemistry and changed the trajectory of my life

16. It’s so sad that the happiest Polly ever got to be was when she was part of a cult. It’s also sad how much everyone’s farm fashion went off cause they all looked so good during that era

17. It’s actually a miracle it took so long for Fangs to actually die there were so many attempts on his life

18. God Veronica running multiple businesses at age 16 and none of the Riverdale adults batting an eye and just respecting her as a business women will never not be funny to me

19. The plot twist that Alice was actually working undercover to take down the farm actually makes her being so awful to Betty make less sense. Sure, she was doing it for the greater good I guess but like she didn’t have to give away her college money or sell their fucking house leaving Betty with the options of homelessness or moving to a cult to get it done

20. FP maybe if you need to get your teenage son to regularly come and help you with your job as sheriff then you shouldn’t be doing it? Although on the other hand Jughead would’ve gone to those crime scenes anyway so like maybe it’s a good thing FP was there as adult supervision

21. GOD the cult break out and scavenger quest are such amazing finales for this season. Everyone nearly dies about ten times, Kevin and Fangs no longer have kidneys, the core four staggering through the woods in formal wear close to death together, Cheryl and Toni coming to save them all with the power of gangs and bows and arrows, it had literally everything you could want!

22. Love how Hal Cooper is canonically one of the worst serial killers ever and every woman he’s been with tells him this to his face

#riverdale

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hibewriter · 7 months ago

Text

It's a vicious cycle, baby

Masterlist Read it on AO3

Shadow & Bone | Darklina | 4.8K | E

Tags: Step Siblings | fauxcest | P in V Sex

“So it was just a phone call?”

Alina sniffed, laying on the last piece of furniture in the lower Manhattan apartment. All the boxes had already been packed, the last strip of packaging tape laid merely an hour before she’d gotten the call. She stared at the ceiling, the small patches and primer covering up the holes she’d drilled to hang her string lights turning the room more foreign than before. Her head rang in the echo of the disinterested voice on the other line.

“Is this Alina Starkov? This is Tante calling on behalf of Black Heretic Property Holdings.”

The end of it all. Her four-year relationship was put on ice by her decision to move across the country in pursuit of law school. Her apartment was neatly packed with numbers blocked and a moving truck idling in the alley next to her. Genya sat next to her, holding her hand as if that was going to solve her newest dilemma.

“Unfortunately, we’ve sold 65 Mullner’s Lane apartment complex, and will no longer be able to lease Apartment C to you as the building is scheduled to be demolished.”

“Well, maybe you could stay?” Genya sounded far away, her voice traveling through water to reach Alina’s ears. “ In Manhattan I mean. Like David and I could make room.”

Stay. In Manhattan.

And do what? Withdraw from UCLA? Take a gap year after she’d already taken two years to be able to afford it on her own? She thought of David and Genya, already cramped in the junior “two”-bed in Greenwich. Thought of them trying once they got married next year. She sighed, flopping her head back on a corduroy pillow. She didn’t want to be practice parenthood.

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. She had a truck full of all her belongings and a two-thousand-mile journey to start. “ I’m sure there’s an extended stay I could use. Maybe someone is leasing for immediate move-ins. ”

Genya frowns, her charm bracelet jingling as she pushed a hair from Alina’s face. “ I think…” She hedged, continuing the pets of her hair. “ Maybe it’s time you call your dad.”

“My dad ,” Alina repeats. Her voice shrinks in on itself, fingers already beginning to tangle together as she thinks of her father. Antonin Starkov. A man of many talents, mostly in marrying and divorcing the elite of the upper east side. Stealing their wealth for his own side business ventures as those around him grow ever more neglected and distant and cold .

All the radiators in New York could not make his condo feel like a home.

But who else could take care of her besides her father?

Antonin makes her stay with him for two months. Lets her sulk in her room alone for a full two weeks before barging in with a woman she’d never seen, a new spa set in hand, demanding she bathes and acts like a Starkov . She would’ve been offended if the cocoon of blankets purchased from West Elm hadn’t begun to smell thick and chips hadn’t fallen out when she stood. Forgotten and stale.

But she was a Starkov.

She couldn’t just sit and wallow on her bed while the world moved on. She had to get it together. Get a move on and be a person . Setbacks happened all the time. Boys break up with you, don’t think you’re worth moving over. Apartments get sold. And Starkovs still persist in shining. She’d just have to make a plan. She’d just have to grow up.

The woman, an aide named Inej, helps more than she’d be willing to admit. A strict checklist of items to do once they’d gotten it together.

Shower. Check .

Clean her space. Check .

Find a new place. Fuck .

She sits on freshly laundered sheets, staring at the blank browser of her laptop. Thinks of potential areas she’d stay, places that could offer her the modicum of reassurance that stepping outside her door wouldn’t get her killed. Not dead but close to the university. She’d seen a YouTube Lawyer speaking about staying close to campus to get the most out of law school. And it seemed smart, wasting less time on travel. But each listing seemed…wrong.

And that’s when she met Baghra.

(In all her years as his daughter – a full twenty-five, each year more difficult than the last – Antonin Starkov had exactly seven wives. The first three had been kind, if not too forgiving of Alina’s outbursts of want for her real mother. A figure that was long gone and buried. The fourth and fifth, both appearing and disappearing in the course of her high school years, had barely registered in her memory. Women who maybe made an appearance at the same time as Alina once a month, otherwise jet-setting across the globe with inheritance from their old money parents or running businesses from luxury skyrises with views of the entire planet out their windows. The sixth had lasted the longest. Entering her father’s life during her sophomore year of college, only to leave him and his money behind for a man who lived in the apartment below them by the middle of her senior year.

And now there was Baghra. Lucky number seven, as her father introduced her. Not exactly something Alina would’ve smiled at. But the woman neither smiled nor frowned. Instead, she took the opportunity to ignore Antonin’s jab, clasping Alina’s hand in hers.)

“You must be Alina,” her voice betrayed her false joy as she clasped Alina’s hands in hers. “ Antonin has spoken so much about you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to lie ,” Alina responded. “ I know he hasn’t.”

Baghra seemed to frown without frowning. Eyes crinkled with a soft downward tilt, lips tight as if in deep thought.

“Oh, you’d get along swimmingly with my daughter Ulla.”

“Does she live in California?”

She didn’t. But her son did.

Aleksander Morozov, a last name from a husband four times removed, lived in a small three-bedroom home off the edge of UCLA’s campus. A mere twenty-minute walk to the door of the UCLA School of Law. He had one car, a work-from-home job at one of the Silicon Valley tech start-ups, and a roommate who’d moved out to go live with his new husband.

The pictures Baghra sent her (a reluctant exchange of phone numbers – an act Alina hadn’t done with her father’s wives since number four had a case of doctoring messages), depicted nothing extreme. Curly trees and native plants, stucco walls, and terracotta shingles plucked straight from her late-night Pinterest boards. It’s nice, almost too nice, and fear of rent and expenses on top of school rise in her head and she wants to scream at the idea of asking her father (or worse, Baghra ) for assistance.

Aleksander’s number is sent to her in a rush, Baghra offering more false joy at the idea of their families blending . A new brother and roommate within a week.

Aleksander is thirty-four; nothing strange outside of the idea he lives so close to a college campus. He started renting the house during undergrad with his friend Ivan. Never left because he didn’t have to. He assures her via text that it would be no problem to take her in, that Baghra is always looking for her next project, and that Alina needn’t worry about the majority of the furniture she had sitting in storage. He’s been in tech since graduation, doesn’t tell her how much he makes a year, and pointedly lets her know the third bedroom is for his office. Rent is allegedly only nine-hundred dollars a month, and he already has the space cleaned out should she want it.

She’s on a flight to LA the next week.

He’s thirty-four, holds a job at home, and refuses to let her drive from LAX by herself. He arrives in a black coupe car, holds a sign written in neat block letters with her name on it, and packs her suitcase into his trunk before she can even offer to do so.

When they arrive at the house it’s exactly like the pictures. Curly trees and bushes thrive under the California sun as he shows her inside. Her room is directly next to the office and is the only room seemingly untouched by an interior designer. She is allowed to place any decorations in her room, as long as she doesn’t leave permanent marks, but Ivan had drilled wooden beams into the walls for a rustic feel and now you couldn’t tell. She wants to scream, finally across the country just days away from starting.

__________________________

The first week is nothing but restless nerves. Constant tossing and turning in a new bed with sheets laundered in an off-brand detergent that was cheaper than her normal scented one. Her decorations felt lackluster and droll, hitting the trash bin on the curb of Aleksander’s – their – street within two days. Her nights were filled with purchasing textbooks written by professors who would teach her, finding new decorations, and listening to the soft pacing of her new roommate – brother – as he worked on whatever kept him up at night.

Though she had to count herself lucky. When she had first arrived, Aleksander towered so tall she had to tap his shoulder just so he would see her amongst the crowd. When he said her name, she felt the honey-burnt rumble of his voice from her head to her toes, and an instant dread of a steady stream of girls who fell for charcoal eyes and a full beard filled her mind.

But, if anything, he was the one who insisted they give ample heads-up on all guests.

The only singular instance of unexpected guests (never a hookup or lackluster date) was an errant girl with dark hair who arrived in the thick of the night. Her incessant knocking was what woke Alina, asleep after attempting to watch reruns of The Good Wife and draped in a stolen blanket from Aleksander’s closet. She remembered feigning sleep, keeping her eyes closed tight as she attempted to ignore it. Only for the man of the hour to cross angrily to the door, yanking it open and speaking in hushed tones with venom-laced words.

“Who the fuck is that girl, Sasha?”

“Calm down Zo, she’s my sister.”

“Sister?! I’ve met Ulla, you prick, she looks nothing like her. “

“Saints, you act as if my mom’s never gotten remarried before.”

“Then why the fuck haven’t you called me back?”

The door slammed behind him as he exited to speak to her. Alina just barely fell back asleep when he walked back in, barely stirring at the small hand that brushed her hair behind her ear and the dip of the couch near her head.

“Mmphf Aleksss.” A vague mumble of words against his thigh, scooting closer to body heat.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, Alina.”

__________________________

When the semester starts, it’s almost as if they’re nothing to each other.

He’s already awake and working by the time she rises, the office door firmly closed with the muffled voices of whatever call he was on permeating through the wood. She showers, leaves with an apple and whatever leftover coffee he’d made sloshing in her Yeti tumbler from a convention long passed. Long classes drift by, only to be followed by hours studying her outline, attempting to be well prepared by the time midterms come around. All for her to arrive back home, worn and ragged, and stealing leftovers from the fridge while he continues to watch whatever history documentary he seemed fixated on that week.

Not to say every day was a perfect cohabitation of silence and drifting around each other. She’d yelled at him when he’d drank out of her favorite mug, leaving it soaking in the sink for a day and a half before she got so frustrated she washed it her damn self. She wanted nothing more than to smack him when he left a shirt (black, dry-fit like nearly everything he wore) in the middle of the living room after coming back from a run. Even with his “I was coming back for it later,” she still threw it at his head, pulling the carpet freshener and vacuum from their hidey-hole to clean the freshly soiled common area.

Not that she was flawless. She heard the muttered complaints from Aleksander on Saturday mornings when she played re-uploaded cuts of MTV music programs on YouTube while cleaning the kitchen. (It really was an excellent distraction from studying, when archaic words about property law blurred together and she needed to mentally remove her brain from the situation.) He’d also yelled, exactly once, when she’d forgotten to clean the long clumps of hair out of the drain. But stopped the second he raised his hand, clocking how her eyes widened and she made a tiny step back into her room. He sighed – defeat or simply resigning himself to a new normal, she’ll never know. Begging her to not do it again in a soft voice before escaping the confines of the house until well after she’d fallen asleep.

The couch became the neutral ground. Friday nights, after a week of pitter-pattering around each other and small arguments, she’s coaxed out with delivered Italian, the popping of a bottle of wine echoing through the entire house. He’ll hand her a plate, settling into the couch as he finds a movie.

It’s quiet mumbling, crawling to sit next to him on the couch. (Only to steal his blanket and leech some of the warmth from him – California was warm but its breezes left her thin skin frozen, her brother’s warmth the only comfort.) They’re quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. As if they’d spent all their lives merely existing next to each other. The Princess Bride was a more permanent fixture in the home than most of the furniture.

__________________________

Their relationship didn’t shift until it did.

One day he was locked in his office, hidden away from her with the door locked. The next, she had her own chair in the room, her textbooks on his bookcase, and a nice lamp for her late-night study sessions. She found herself sitting next to him, listening to the soft clack of his fingers against his keyboard, the deep muttering of his voice on various calls. It was a soothing balm for her days, his body nearby as they attempted not to disrupt the other’s work. And when the day was over they could go their separate ways.

(If she stole a blanket from his bed and wrapped herself in his scent… well that was her business and hers alone.)

Midterms and finals pass in a flurry of coffee and dramatic tv reruns. A short flight home for the holidays, hotel fair split because neither particularly wanted to stay with their parents. Apparently still sickeningly in love (if that’s what you could call Baghra’s and Antonin’s relationship). Bundled sweaters and an extra thick weighted blanket Aleksander brought especially for her. “ Maybe you’ll stop putting those icicles you call feet on my lap, Alina.” (It does not stop her, though the sting is dulled by fluffy socks and a blanket that smothers all her bad thoughts into a peaceful slumber.)

The spring arrives before she can think, another set of midterms, another set of highlighters. Sleepless and hunger-filled nights were lessened only by her brother-roommate’s lights-out policy and Postmates' premium account.

But then, just as she thought she could relax, the trip came. It was a Friday he told her. She was wrapped in the blanket he’d brought her, a bowl of kettle corn on her lap (“ Because it’s healthy Sasha!” ), and the remote already queued to their movie of the night. He’d walked in, still typing away at his phone even though they’d agreed on no more work this weekend. So she huffed, rolling her eyes as he paced behind the couch rather than sitting on it. She reached, tugging on his shirt as he passed, hoping to get his attention so they can start the night like always.

“ Give me a second, baby I’ll be right there.”

Baby. It was an echo in her head, constantly coming up when she least expected it. He’d started calling her such after New Year’s Day, waking up on David and Genya’s couch in their party clothes, his arms a better blanket than any gift he could ever give. Even when she asked about it, nervous hedging on the plane back home, he merely shrugged. “You kept saying you were baby, so I guess that’s what you are.”

Still, his affection could not quel her need for her night to start. Comfort movies, blanket swaddling, and cuddles on the couch after trying to understand archaic nonsense of property law and endless contracts and double entendres. So she whined, petulant and youthful as she stretched toward him. And he stilled, hand coming to stroke her cheek with something like reverence.

“My, uh, my boss wants us all in the office for a yearly recap,” he muttered, eyebrows scrunching, concerned. “So I gotta head out next Wednesday for a couple of days.”

She’d call it strange how quickly her frown took shape on her face, the instant feeling of disappointment flowing through her. It wasn’t like she held him under lock and key, forced to share their tiny oasis all day every day. But it felt akin to the first time her father suggested sleeping without her teddy bear – devastating and somehow cruel.

She didn't mope the rest of the night, cuddled deep into her blanket far away from his embrace on the other side of the couch. She didn't. Even when he sighed, told her to "stop being a brat, baby. I'll be back before you know it."

__________________________

She's sure he thought it was true. But that Wednesday night felt too quiet, the echoes of her footsteps too loud against the hardwood floor. She tossed and turned all night, somehow cold in the California spring.

Thursday was impossible to concentrate, her lecture breezing through one ear and out the other. The words in her notebooks were a blur. It wasn't until seven, nearly dark, that she realized she'd forgotten breakfast and lunch. That's when she itched to call him demanding he come home early instead of Monday afternoon.

She settled for a text, a simple How was your day ? She didn't expect him to respond so soon, barely switching to her own Postmates app before the notification of his response appeared. Good. Did you eat today, baby? And it should have been embarrassing. I'm ordering Thai right now. My normal breakfast and lunch may have been missed.

Missing me already?

She sighed, thumbs down emoji sent quickly. They both knew it wasn't true.

Friday came with the ringing of a doorbell. Philz coffee and fruit in a brown paper bag left delicately on her porch side table. She would never admit, even under threat of torture, how much better her morning went. It was much easier, even grabbing lunch from the pizza place down the street with a girl from her class. But still, returning to the empty home felt hollow. She could only wrestle with herself for an hour, the time it took her to shower and prepare a chicken stir fry before she made the decision.

His door was closed, but not locked. His room was orderly in the way he tended to be. Bed made, clothes put away, vacuumed the Sunday before he left. Still, she drew her weighted blanket into the room, with her laptop queued to The Princess Bride, and found comfort in the warmth of his comforter. Falling asleep as she preferred to – Aleksander’s scent washing over her while soft voices echoed in the background.

Saturday she found a shirt, black as the rest of his wardrobe, hanging from his closet door. This time there was no hesitation to slip into his space, the shirt draped over her form as soon as she stepped out of the shower. It was almost like he was physically there as she cleaned the house, tidying the space exactly as she preferred. And at night she settled in, a comedy special playing on Netflix as she dozed off in his bed. She’d put everything back tomorrow, cleaning to the room’s original status without Aleksander ever knowing just how much she missed him.

She didn’t particularly get the chance. Not stirring during the sunrise, the opening and closing of the front door lost on her consciousness. No, she simply bundled deeper into the pillows and sheets, familiar footfalls falling on deaf ears. A soft sigh escaped her as arms wrap around her waist, a strong warmth clinging to her back.

“I guess you did miss me, baby,” murmured into her ear. She nods, a dream-like haze as he pulls her close.

“You came home early,” she mumbles. Clings to him like wet on lycra, inhaling as he crowds her close.

“Clearly I was needed,” his hands found her thighs, bare and silky under his shirt, tracing circles into her skin. “I needed to come home.”

He was right. She had no need to fight him. Lets him drag her leg over his hips. Relishes the feel of his beard against her shoulder as he buries his face in her neck. Cuddled like he needed to, pressed to each other. It’s his lips on her neck that cause her to gasp, a soft touch that lingers with each pass.

“Sa - Sasha – ”

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” he murmured, soft and urgent. The begging left unsaid. But she did know. She knew for months, maybe since the day she moved in, that she’d want him. Always around. Always close. And there was no need to resist. Antonin and Baghra the furthest thing from her mind as she pushed against his head, only to drag his lips down to hers.

If she were patient she would’ve taken the time to look at him. Absorb that he was real and that she was real and she wasn’t dreaming that her step-brother’s tongue was partially down her throat. Even if she was dreaming she didn’t want to let go of the feeling. His hands spanned her ribs, fingers nearly touching as he began to press her into the bed.

He doesn’t waste much time. His hands roam, lifting his shirt on her body until he could feel all of it. Underwear gone since she crawled into bed the night before. His fingers found her slit, wet – nearly soaked – causing him to break their kiss, a groan on his lips. And she finally got to see him, the first time since he’d left Wednesday morning. His hair flopping softly, tussled from an early flight and her fingers carding through it. But his eyes, always dark and broody, were alight with desire. A flame shown within him as he looked down at her.

“ My wet, messy girl,” he whispered, something akin to awe in his voice as he leaned down. A kiss pressed to her collarbone, lips finding the skin not covered by the rucked-up shirt. She could do little else but whimper as he seemed to proceed on a one-man mission to map every inch of her skin with his lips. Each kiss was lower than the last, until he paused, directly over her mound before glancing back up at her, those eyes shining back at her. “ Tell me to stop, baby.”

She refused.

His mouth was like a spark, lips encompassing her as his tongue lapped at her, collecting wetness from her like honey from a jar. His tongue was heady, sliding through her folds and over her clit. She could feel his smirk as he was able to draw out a moan, her hands clinging to his hair. There was no use trying to look at something else, not when each lick brought a spark to flame inside her. She refused to hold her sounds, refused to think of the embarrassing oh, oh, ohs that flew from her mouth as he switched to sucking on her clit.

“Please, p-please,” she gasped, managing a spark of lucidity as he refused to relent his assault on her pleasure. Just as she thought she couldn’t hold anymore, he abruptly stuck two fingers inside. She was wet, wetter than she’d been in years , but still. The stretch was a smart burn that only faded as she got accustomed to the feel. Until his fingers pressed against something throwing her off a metaphorical cliff into an orgasm. He still only withdrew partially, keeping his fingers slowly moving inside her as he kissed his way back up her body.

Her own hands found purpose. Pushing and tugging at offending garments. His shirt, the sweats, all in the way of what she truly wanted . Hadn’t she waited enough? Hadn’t she been good and patient and waited for him to come back? But he took her wrists in one hand, not hard enough to bruise but enough for her to whine as he pushed her arms above her head. He forced her to just feel his thumb, pressed deliciously against her clit, as his fingers sought that spot inside her again.

“Be good for me, Lina,” his breath was hot against her lips. “Be good, and I’ll give you what you want.” It shouldn’t have been that easy. A whisper for her to be good against the pressure of his hands against and in her. But her body clenched down, limbs seizing as the precipice of orgasm crashed through her in a rush. Her breath barely came in pants before his lips were on hers again, finally – finally – dragging the rest of his clothing off with as much efficiency as he could without leaving her side.

She will never admit, not to God or Satan or any of the Saints, that the first feel of his cock, dragging slowly over her clit as his lips moved against hers, was the best experience of her life. There was nothing shameful, nothing that could make her repent, for the sounds that escaped her lips. Swallowed by his tongue as he rocked his hips against her.

She wants to scream. She wanted to cry. So close to him, to what they both were wanting, and he was teasing . She squirmed, wiggling, pushing her hips against him. As if she could make him catch her against her cunt and slip in. But he chuckled, laughing at her desperation as he gripped her hips.

“Let me, baby,” he whispered, lining himself against her. “Wanna savor it.”

Then, the head of his cock notches inside her.

It stings. She’s wet, no virgin, and definitely not a prude, but he was more than two of his fingers could ever adequately prepare her for. It sends only a brief shock of hesitation in her, numbed as he slowly presses forward, withdrawing an inch only to feed it back into her. His hands return to her wrist, pushing her into the bed as he forces her to just take take take.

Each rock of his hips pushes him further inside, and each time she thinks she can’t take any more. He couldn’t possibly have more to give. But each thrust is another bit, another space carved out just for him until she feels so full she’s unsure she could breathe. His hips pressed deliciously against hers, a whine falling from her mouth as he withdraws and slams back in.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hips gaining speed as she loosens to the feel of him. “Fucking dream, been hard for months —”

She cries out, nails digging into her palms as she can only hold on with her thighs. The tension, the slight bite as his hand pressed into her wrists. She knows, before she can even find the ways to vocalize it, that she’s going to come. His free hand snakes behind them, pressing on her lower back to force her to arch into him.

“So fucking good,” he huffed, chest against hers, their bodies moving together. She doesn’t even think to close her eyes. Stares into the dark pools next to her, as she feels it coming. Tears prick her eyes, each downward stroke a new push towards that precipice. A stroke, a push, his lips on hers, and she falls apart.

He doesn’t stop, groaning at the feel of her around him. He releases her wrists, grasping at her hips to pull her against him. She has a feeling she’ll bruise, but she can’t bring herself to care. Not when his thrust grows sloppy, not when his lips find contact with any skin they can find. Her shoulder, her cheek, her neck. Both moaned loudly when his hips stilled against hers, his cock a plug to keep the warmth of his spend inside her.

They lay there, his body better than a million weighted blankets, arms wrapped around each other while they caught their breaths. For a moment she wonders if they’ll talk about it. If they’ll discuss the fact that they just fucked their step-sibling before either of them even bothered to get up for the day.

But they didn’t. He simply tugged her close, nuzzling into her skin as he softened.

“I missed you, too.”

#darklina

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