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yeomongi · 1 day ago

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 — ᡣ𐭩

genre: smut!! 18+ content below cut MDNI!!!

pairing: seonghwa x you

word count: ~1.2k

warnings: unprotected sex (don’t), kinda noncon?? (y/n is sleeping but enjoys it and goes along w it,) somnophilia, cumming inside, fingering, i think that’s it! no proofread

synopsis: seonghwa had been achingly hard all day just by the thought of y/n. when he got home and saw y/n sleeping so peacefully , he couldn’t resist…

note: this was a request!! gosh the way i wish seonghwa would wake me up by fucking me… I MEANNNN!!!! anyways, i had fun writing this! i hope everyone enjoys! reblogs and interactions appreciated! <3

you'd been driving seonghwa crazy all day, occupying his every thought as he tried to focus on work. every few hours, he'd slip into the bathroom, unzipping his pants to adjust himself or even take a few hasty strokes to try and ease the ache. nothing seemed to work, though - his desire for you only grew stronger with each passing minute.

when he finally got home, he headed straight for the living room, expecting to pull you into his arms and have his way with you right then and there. but what he saw stopped him in his tracks: you, curled up so sweetly under his fuzzy blanket on the couch, fast asleep. the sight made his already-throbbing length twitch hard against his boxers. god, you looked so adorable like that...

without hesitation, he crept over to you, his eyes raking hungrily over your peaceful form. he couldn't wait any longer. gently, he lifted the blanket, exposing your body to his eager gaze. his breath caught at the sight of you, so vulnerable and trusting in slumber. perfect.

he knelt down beside the couch, fingers trembling with anticipation as he carefully began unbuckling his belt. he knew this was wrong, invading your privacy like this...but he just couldn't bring himself to wake you gently first. his mind was consumed with primal desire.

once free, his hardened length sprung out, already leaking with need. he grasped himself firmly, stroking up and down as he gazed at every inch of you. your soft breaths against the pillow, the gentle rise and fall of your chest...it was intoxicating.

he shuffled closer, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead before positioning himself between your legs. the heat radiating from your body urged him on as he rubbed the swollen tip against your clothed entrance. he bit his lip, trying to quiet the whimpers that threatened to escape. god, he needed this.

ignoring any last shreds of guilt, he slipped two fingers beneath your panties, feeling your warmth and slickness that told him everything he needed to know. with a low groan, he pushed them inside you, curving them to stroke that sweet spot within as he continued rubbing against your covered depths.

your body betrayed your unconscious state, hips bucking slightly against his touching. seonghwa fought back a grin, his movements growing more urgent. he slipped another finger into his mouth, coating it with his saliva before slowly pushing it into you alongside the others. once you took them all easily, he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his nose, inhaling your scent with a shudder.

with a final look of apology - as if you could sense his actions - he guided himself to your slick opening and thrust home with one rough push, burying himself fully inside you. your lack of awareness allowed him to set a relentless pace, chasing his own pleasure without restraint.

your body jolted slightly beneath him as he pounded away, the hazy edges of consciousness starting to pull you back from your slumber. your drowsy mind struggled to process the overwhelming sensations - fullness, friction, the warmth of his weight pinning you down.

seonghwa, oblivious to your stirrings, leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your neck as he continued his punishing rhythm. one strong hand gripped your hip bruisingly tight, while the other traced patterns on your stomach.

the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the quiet room, mingling with the soft whimpering noises escaping his lips. he was close now, the familiar tension coiling low in his belly. just a little more...

your eyes fluttered, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. a confused grogginess enveloped you as you slowly realized what was happening. beneath you, seonghwa didn't seem to notice yet. his gaze was fixed on his movements, watching where he disappeared inside you again and again.

your mind began to clear just enough for you to feel the pleasure building along with the sensation of him deep within, though you still felt too dazed to fully comprehend or respond. a hand came up to weakly push against his chest, as if trying to make sense of this unexpected interlude.

seonghwa finally noticed your hand pushing against him, but instead of stopping - he grabbed it firmly, intertwining your fingers together. he leaned closer, his hot mouth finding your ear as his breathing grew heavier.

"shhh, let me..." he murmured against your lobe before nibbling on it lightly. his hips surged forward, driving himself deeper inside you, angling to strike that sweet spot over and over.

the constant friction was sending shivers through your being, your cries muffled against the cushions. seonghwa's jaw clenched, his face twisted in intense concentration, his self-control hanging by a thread.

your body betrayed you further, your hips moving with his rhythm despite your groggy state. the pleasure was undeniable now, washing over you in waves. you felt the coiled tension in your core begin to snap like a rubber band pulled taut. tears pricked your eyes as sensation overwhelmed your senses, your body arching beneath him as if searching for release.

seonghwa sensed your response, his voice dropping to a husky timbre. "you're close aren't you, darling?" he purred, his hand leaving yours to rub circles around your clit, pushing you closer still.

"st-stop…” you manage to gasp out weakly, face flushing crimson with heat. the stimulation is too much, your mind reeling as you struggle to process everything that's happening. seonghwa, seeing you fall apart so beautifully beneath him, feels his control slipping.

"no, you look so gorgeous like this..." he growls, his gaze raking hungrily over your features. his movements become more erratic, chasing his own end now.

"gonna fill you up, make you take it all..." he promises, the promise in his voice sending another shock through you. he's right on the edge.

tears spill down your cheeks as your body tightens around him, the unfamiliar intimacy and intensity too overwhelming. at the sight, seonghwa lets out a ragged groan, unable to hold back any longer. with one final powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, finding his own shattering release as he begins to spill himself.

waves of pure ecstasy crash through you both, prolonging the intensity of the moment. seonghwa continues to ride out his climax, shuddering above you as he pours every last drop within your depths.

he collapses forward, catching himself slightly so he doesn't crush you completely. his hot panting breaths fan over your neck, body going lax on top of yours. a hand gently strokes your hair as he murmurs apologies against your ear.

"baby, I...I'm sorry," he whispers, though the remnants of blissful satisfaction linger on his lips. he seems to have snapped out of his haze now, acutely aware of what he did without your technical consent.

you feel seonghwa tense up as if anticipating your anger. but then, to his surprise, you spoke up - your voice soft yet truthful.

"it...it felt good..." you confess, cheeks burning red hot. seonghwa pulls back slightly, eyes searching your face for any signs of genuine sentiment behind the words.

a slow smile spreads across his features when he sees you weren't upset. he dips down, kissing you tenderly on the lips. "you liked that?" he asks quietly, tracing a finger down your side.

"next time, I'll make sure you're awake. watching you, hearing you...it's intoxicating." he promises, his eyes darkened with renewed desire.

#ateez smut #ateez #ateez atiny #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kpop #ateez imagines #kpop smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa #park seonghwa

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secretsandwriting · 7 hours ago

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Besties, batmom is apparently my favorite thing to write because I somehow managed to turn a drabble into 6k words???? Its 1k more then earned position idk how I did this??? Anyways, have this and enjoy.

I'm also trying to get more comfortable writing for Duke so bear with me as I figure out how I want to write his character.

Too Perfect

Not beta read

6.3k words

You smiled as you watched the Wayne kids mess around together in the corner of the gala. They looked like they were having a lot of fun together, it was heartwarming how close they looked. The way Jason had his arm thrown around Tim has they laughed at Dick teasing Damian by holding something he wanted just out of reach. Cassandra watched from her spot in Tim’s shadow. Signing away when something came to mind. Jason and Tim would translate for the other two so she was still heard while they were distracted.

Damian ended up kicking Dick’s ankle so he could finally grab what turned out to be his phone. Jason seemed to think it was hysterical and a good method while Tim sided with Dick claiming physical violence was not the answer. Cass just seemed to be trying to make everything worse, smiling when she said something that got them arguing harder.

“Rowdy bunch no matter what I do.” Bruce suddenly appeared next to you, his tone fond as he smiled at his kids antics. “Are they bothering you?” You looked away from the kids to their father.

“Not at all. I’m happy to see them able to act like kids in high society. Most lose the chance and ability to be anything other then perfect young.” Bruce hummed, about to say something when your watch beeped. “That’s my cue to leave. I have a long day of ahead of me tomorrow.”

“It is quite late. Thank you for coming, I hope you had a good time.” He gave you his famous smiled, the one that had most girls swooning.

“I did! It was quite a lovely night. Thank you for the invite!” You returned his smile before heading out the door and too your car.

A few weeks later you found yourself at your favorite cafe. Stepping carefully, you tried to avoid the ice on your way in. The recent snow storm happening almost immediately after rain had made the roads and sidewalks horrible. The plows and salt helped but it was still a disaster.

Opening the door, the warm air enveloped you. The scent of coffee and baked goods heavy in the air, producing a comforting feeling and making you forget about the snow and ice outside for a minute. The line wasn’t long but you had left early enough it wouldn’t have mattered if it was out the door.

Your usual was punched in the second you got up to the register, the barista just chatting with you instead of asking. A testament to how often you came. Moving away after you were done paying so the person behind you could order, you hummed along to the song playing over the radio. You checked your phone for any texts about work for the day and ran through your mental checklist to make sure you were ready for the day.

Your checklist was interrupted by your name as your coffee was set on the counter. Grabbing it you took a sip and sighed. It was too early for all of this. Heading out the door, you tried to be just as careful as you were going in. Tried being the keyword. You slipped on the ice, there was no way you could stop from falling so you just braced for impact.

It never came, instead you found yourself leaning against someone. They helped you back up, hand gentle on your back as they made sure you were standing without risk of falling again.

“You ok?” Turning around to thank them, you were met with Bruce Wayne. Concern swimming in his eyes. Your coffee was in his other hand, he must of noticed your glance at it because he handed it back to you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to have to go back for another one.”

“Yes, thank you for catching both me and my coffee!” He smiled as he stepped back.

“It was no trouble!” He gave you another smile before turning around and heading into the coffee shop, you didn’t notice the steaming coffee on the ground near you as you turned and headed back to your car. Thinking about how it was odd you had seen him twice in a couple weeks.

Browsing the books in the little shop, you let out a sigh when you realized they didn’t have the book you wanted. That's what you get for slacking and waiting a month after getting the notification they had it in stock. Deciding to do the best thing and leave before you end up with a stack of books you don’t need, you headed for the door. Promising yourself you would come earlier next time.

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Bruce Wayne looking completely lost. He kept glancing down at a paper in his hand and back up at the shelf. Eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find something. He had helped you at the cafe so maybe you could repay the favor.

“What are you looking for?” He whipped around like you had just jumped out and screamed at him. You stifled a laugh but your smile still slipped through. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly a little embarrassed before squaring his shoulders and looking down at his list.

“I didn’t know you worked here… Jason asked me to pick up these books for him.” He handed you the list. You scanned through the titles, all classics. He was in the fiction on the opposite side of the store from the classics.

“I don’t, I just shop here way too much. These would be over here.” He snorted as he followed you through the store. You listened to him as he talked about his kids. Laughing at the mischief they caused and smiling at the clearly fond tone as he told you about the random little things they had done. You had alway wanted kids but every time you tried, something happened. EIther breakups or problems getting pregnant. So you found yourself living through Bruce’s stories. Imaging having your own kids who pulled similar stunts or the things they would do. Once all of the books were picked out and paid for, you prepared to split ways.

“Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” Bruce asked. You stopped and stared at him, his cheeks turning a light pink under your gaze. You reached into your bag to pull out a pen and paper, jotting down your number and handing it to him.

“I would love to!”

Dinner was at your favorite restaurant, so you knew the food was good. The conversation was a little awkward but it wasn’t long until you were easily conversing. Talking about everything from work, his kids latest adventures, to politics.

He was a perfect gentleman the entire night. Opening all the doors, pulling out your chair for you, kind to all the staff, understanding of any mistakes that had happened and still tipped them well. The butterflies in your stomach had fed on that to become stronger and make you feel more sick then nervous at times.

After dinner, you went for a walk in a park nearby. The night chill was kept away by the laughter between you too as you shared ridiculous stories. When you decided it was late and you needed to leave, Bruce walked you to your car and waited until you left to leave.

“Did you walk her to her car when you left?” Jason was the first at the door to question him. Sometimes Bruce really wondered if Jason was actually going to do his whole revenge plan with how he acts with the family now. At the end of the night he was just glad Jason was alive and around to question his every move.

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Jason paused like he was searching for something to insult Bruce with as his response but Tim slid into the room and immediately started questioning him.

“Did you open the doors for her?” Bruce signed. He really should try to hide more of his dating life from them.

“I opened the doors and pulled her chair out for her. And,” He turned and looked at Damian who had just run into the room. “I asked about her day and listened.” Damian nodded like he was proud of Bruce. He just shook his head at his boys.

“But did you extend the date to go a litt-”

“We went on a walk after dinner.” Dick huffed at being interrupted but he was pleased with the answer. Bruce turned his attention to Cass so he wouldn’t miss her question.

“Yes, I did tell her she looked pretty tonight.” Cass grinned and nodded.

You smiled at your phone as you read the text from Bruce followed with a short video of Damian ranting about not being allowed to pet the tigers. You had been texting with him daily between work and whatever else you had to do ever since the date. There had been regular phone calls and now regular facetimes every night as well as your 5th date happening Saturday night.

Bruce had been nothing but a gentleman the entire relationship. Something you weren’t fully used to yet. There was nothing you would change. Communication was great, boundaries were being respected, there was no pressure, and there were no lies. It was almost too perfect.

Bruce wanted to introduce you to the kids and they all wanted to meet you. According to Bruce, despite never meeting you, they all claimed they would go with you if there was a breakup. You had just laughed it off when he told you. Figuring it was just something they were joking about as a way to tease their father.

“They’ll love you!” Bruce reassured you as you walked up to the manor door. “They were all excited to find out you were coming tonight. Dick and Jason made sure they had the night off so they could come.” You really wanted him to stop talking. He was only making this worse.

The door opened and the first thing you heard was yelling. Bruce just sighed next to you. Alfred took your coat after introducing himself, informing you it would be another half hour before dinner would be done and then leaving to go work on it.

As you followed Bruce in, the yelling got louder. You were headed towards the boys, the volume of their yelling made it obvious when you were almost there. You made it in time to see Jason holding Tim up by the collar as Damian cheered and Dick tried to get Jason to let go of Tim. Tim was interrupting Dick’s attempts to keep arguing with Jason, making his chances to get put down lower. Cass was just sitting on the couch watching everything go down, when she spotted you, she came over and offered to give you a tour of the manor. You of course accepted and left with Cass while Bruce stayed to deal with the boys.

You took the time to get to know a little about Cass, carefully paying attention when she talked slow and quietly. While you weren’t the most fluent with sign language you could normally make out what she was saying, at least a little bit. Along the way, Duke joined you, adding in jokes here and there and helping to translate for Cass when you struggled to understand what she was saying.

The tour ended in the dining room where the others waited. You felt a little better about it when Cass and Duke insisted you sit with them. It made you feel like you could do this and like it wouldn’t go too badly. After all, two of them liked you now… At least they seemed too.

Steph joined shortly after you were seated, apologizing about being late and rambling about a project she was working on. With that, Dinner was started. Along with the absolutely amazing food, you got to learn more about the kids Bruce had collected.

Dick was a police officer in Bludhaven, he had moved after a fight with Bruce that had been resolved but decided he liked it there and the freedom that came with it and stayed. He had adjusted to living on his own relatively smoothly and loved it when his siblings dropped by. He was offered a promotion recently but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He was also very glad Bruce was in a serious relationship because maybe he would back off on his parenting.

Jason loved books, especially the classics. He was the most obviously dramatic of them all and loved to play things up. He had gotten kidnapped and went no contact with Bruce when he came back. He had made up with Bruce recently but it was still a little rocky sometimes. His apartment gets regularly broken into by his siblings and he claimed to hate it but the look in his eyes told you he really didn’t mind it and truly liked that they felt safe coming to him.

Tim was the CEO of W.E, something he took great pride in. He also likes mysteries so he looks into police cases and tried to solve them before the police. He likes working with computers and figuring out bugs in programs, something he likes to do with Barbara. He really likes coffee, drinks more then he should but won’t stop. He doesn’t have a spleen anymore and somehow he managed to keep that a secret from the family until recently. And while he violently denied it, go as far to punch Dick when he suggested it, Tim was extremely protective of his family.

Damian loves animals, going as far to become vegetarian after saving a cow from a slaughter house. He collects pets and despite the large amount he had, he still took perfect care of them. His favorite subject in school is history but his favorite class is art. He likes painting and according to everyone he’s absolutely amazing at it. He lived with his mom until he was 10 when she sent him to live with his dad. He knew Jason first because Jason had joined his family after he had been kidnapped. While Damian claimed he disliked his brothers, it was very obvious he truly cared about them and loved them deeply.

Duke had recently moved into the manor and was still getting used to having enough money to spend on things other than necessities. He had started helping Tim figure out what charities to donate to the most and regularly worked with Jason on helping kids on the streets. He was part of the We Are Robin movement, something he spoke about with great pride as well as pain. He liked collecting cards for a game and was very excited when you asked to see his collection. He had also been arrested, something you couldn’t picture about the sweet boy next to you.

Steph was also vegetarian and she loves bubble tea and other fruity drinks. She regularly works with Human Rights Activists and wants to help as many people as possible. She loves going out for girls days and forcing her brothers into facemasks and other similar things. She’s big on quality time, one of the ones who drops by Dick’s and Jason’s apartments the most. She likes podcasts, apparently its all she listens to and she gives good recommendations. She also loves watching darmas for the sole purpose of laughing at the stupid plot points.

Cass loves ballet, she finds it fun and relaxing. Due to a bad childhood she struggles with talking and understanding words but she’s been working on it. She really likes sign language and was very happy when the rest of the family touched up their skills or learned it to make communicating easier for her. She’s also big on quality time, the other one who drops in the most. She just likes to sit quietly with other people while doing their each doing their own thing. She really likes chocolate ice cream and knows the best brands. She likes to randomly scare her siblings, she thinks its funny when they jump and scream.

The entire dinner, as you talked and listened to the kids, Bruce just grinned from his spot. Happy to have his kids and girlfriend all together and wishing the peace would last forever. After dinner, you moved to the living room where the talking continued until late in the night.

After the dinner, you spent more time at the manor and with the kids. Cass invited you to her ballet recitals and sometimes asked for a ride when Bruce and Jason were busy. Steph invited you to go out with her, drinks and window shopping became a biweekly thing. Damian would invite you to help with his animals, he would tell you things he knew about them as you worked. He would also requests rides from school when needed. Duke would tell you about the new cards he had gotten and their stats and would invite you to go hunting for rare ones with him. Jason started a book club with you, you would meet once a week to discuss what you had read and whatever else was on his mind. Tim would get your opinion on cases he was trying to solve, you would get coffee and try to solve the case. Dickwould invite you to join him for gossip, you would trade gossip about the cities and whatever else you knew.

Overall, you got along well with the kids. Something you were happy about and something that made Bruce fall in love with you more and more the more he saw you interact with them or when they would talk about everything they had done with you. His kids were his life, and to have you come in and love and care for them like they were your own meant more then he could ever hope to put into words.

Your relationship with Bruce was perfect. He was a gentleman who always treated you right an made sure you were well taken care of, His kids liked you and you absolutely adored them. He was the best partner you had ever had and your relationship was healthier then you had even thought possible. It was absolutely perfect.

Too perfect. Something wasn’t lining up. The injuries, the slow texts at night when you knew he had nothing planned and the kids were busy, the secret basement. Something was going on. Sp you did the only thing you could think of. You documented everything.

Every mystery scratch, bruise, broken bone, it was all written down. After a week you noticed a pattern. Everytime Batman got into a bad fight and was injured, Bruce had the same injury the very next day. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be Batman, it had to be a coincidence so you kept documenting. Hoping to get a different answer.

2 weeks in, your questions started multiplying. Steph had broken her leg right about the time spoiler was thrown off a roof by the villain of the week and had to be carried away by Red Hood. That couldn’t be right.

Week 3 had Damain getting mugged and stabbed the same night Robin was stabbed by a henchman after being overwhelmed.

Week 4 Jason was shot when helping a kid in an alley the same night Red Hood was shot busting a human trafficking ring.

Week 5 Cass broke her arm falling down the stairs the day after Black Bat broke hers in combat.

Week 6 Tim ran into a wall and got a concussion the day after Red Robin was thrown into a wall and was carried away by Nightwing yelling about a concussion.

Week 7 Dick was shot off duty by someone wanting revenge the same night Nightwing was shot busting a robbery.

By week 8 you couldn’t deny it. Something is going on and you wanted an explanation. So you set a time to meet with Bruce at the manor using the dreaded “We need to talk.” You met at the manor when all the kids were out and busy so it was just the two of you. Bruce was clearly nervous and unsure of what exactly you wanted to talk about.

You just handed him all your notes and waited. You watched as he read and all the nervousness practically melted off him and was replaced by an unreadable calm. A sinking feeling filled your stomach as you hoped he would tell you the truth and not lie like everyone else who had switched up like that. Bruce read silently, reading every line carefully before moving onto the next one.

Hes coming up with excuses.

Your mind supplied. You tried to push the thought away. Bruce hadn’t lied about anything so far in your relationship. He had just hidden something and he hid it because it was dangerous. Yeah, it was too dangerous to just tell people right away but you had been dating for 6 months so he could trust you with it now. He was going to tell you soon or he just didn’t know how to bring it u-

“I’m not sure why you think I could be Batman? Me?” Oh.

“Bruce, it’s too many coinc-”

“Y/n, I’m not batman and the kids are vigilantes either. Yes it’s definitely weird it lines up so well but it doesn’t mean anything.” He was lying, you could see the spark of panic in his eyes as he tried to convince you that it wasn’t real. It told you everything you needed to know. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke.

“You’re right. It is a bit weird, but I believe you. I’m glad I could get some confirmation.” Bruce smiled at you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “I have a meeting I need to get to, I’ll see you later.” You kissed him goodbye and went straight home, blocking his number from the comfort of your bed. You weren’t going to date another liar.

The next morning, you accepted the out of country transfer your job had offered you. You packed up and left within a week. You had gotten a few texts from the kids asking how you were and you made sure to respond to them. They seemed to understand you needed space and didn’t text you much after that first week. You were thankful they understood and appreciated that they never mentioned their father to you.

Your first week in your new home you had gotten sick. Nothing seemed to help so you went into the doctor. Turns out you and Bruce hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. The positive pregnancy test, a testament to how nothing seemed to go as planned the past month.

Thankfully your job and doctor helped you find resources to help you get along as a soon to be single mother in a foreign country. With all the help you had been provided, it would hopefully go as smooth as possible given the circumstances.

Eleven months later, you found yourself back in Gotham. Nothing seemed to change while you were gone, the city was the same dreary city with extremely high crime rates but you had missed it. As horrible as it was, Gotham was home.

A friend had helped you move your things into your new apartment, the nursery had taken priority so Penelope would hopefully be able to sleep through most of the rest of the moving. Wishful thinking, Penny had been nothing but a handful. Her favorite activity seemed to be wailing as loud as her little lungs would allow her whenever you were trying to get any sort of semblance of rest. Sometimes, you wondered if you hadn’t connected the dots, if Bruce being around would help with the stress. If it would have made your pregnancy smoother and now if you would be able to sleep a little more.

Penelope had just settled down for a nap when there was a knock on your door. You sighed as your plans for a nap were ruined by whoever was knocking, half tempted to just ignore them. Another knock, this time louder. They would wake Penny if you didn’t answer the door so you went to see who needed you so desperately. A redhead girl in a wheelchair smiled at you as you opened the door. Barbara your mind supplied.

“Sorry to drop by so suddenly but I wanted to talk to you about Bruce and Penelope.” You sighed again, you knew this would come and that you would have to talk about it. You stepped aside and let Barbara in, closing the door behind her.

“Penny just went down for a nap so we need to be quiet. Can I get you something to drink?” Barbara got settled at the table, looking around quietly while you got her drink. She took a sip of it while you sat down across from her, setting the glass on the table and turning her attention to you.

“Are you going to tell Bruce about Penelope?” Straight to the point.

“Eventually.”

“Would you consider dating Bruce again if he apologized and told you the truth first this time?”

“It depends on what the truth is and how good his apology is.” She nodded, thinking for a second.

“Bruce doesn’t know you’re back yet. I’ve managed to keep it from him and Tim. Just like I did with all your google searches about their injuries. I was hoping he’d tell you the truth then but he’s so stubborn. I’m going to tell them tomorrow that you're back, I just wanted to get your thoughts about it before I did so I could hopefully curb anything that was unwanted.” From there you talked about random things, getting to know her and catching up on everything that had happened in Gotham while you were gone. The conversation was interrupted by Penny’s crying. Barbara left, claiming Bruce should be the first to meet Penny.

“I won’t mention Penny. I’ll leave that for you to do when you're ready.” She offered you a smile before wheeling herself out of your apartment. As you fed Penny, you thought about your conversation with Barbara. Bruce was unblocked later that night.

Your phone lit up with Bruce’s name the next night. He asked to meet and talk in a park that was always empty. He promised he would tell you the truth and apologized for lying before. You agreed.

You caught up with him for a little bit before Bruce mentioned your conversation before you left. He admitted you were right and he had just panicked. He apologized for lying again and told you that he should have never brushed you off like he had, even if it had been fake.

He told you about how it all started, how he got Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Damian. How he had found Steph and Duke. About what happened with Barbara. He told you about his missions, the justice league, his paranoia, and trust issues. You listened to him silently for hours.

Hours later, once he had gone over everything. You agreed to try again.

After your second first date with Bruce, the kids started reaching out to you again. You had forgotten how much you enjoyed their presence in your life. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you had used to due to needing to take care of Penny and the price of sitters being too expensive.

You had decided to tell Bruce about Penny on your fourth date. You would tell him at dinner and invite him over to meet her. Unfortunately your sitter canceled last minute right before your third date. You considered canceling but you needed to tell Bruce and there was a high chance you would chicken out later on.

So you wrestled Penny into a cute outfit and into the dreaded car seat, the one she screamed at like it was going to eat her when you put her in. She thankfully fell asleep in the car, making it easier for you to go in faster. You were already late as it was.

Bruce saw you walk in and was about to stand up to greet you when he saw the carseat and froze. You took a deep breath and went over to the table, gently setting her down while you took your own seat. Bruce looked over to you, questions clearly written all over his face.

“She’s yours. I found out a week after I moved. She’ll be 4 months old in a week. You can hold her when she wakes up if you want.” “What’s her name?”

“Penelope Avery Wayne.” He sucked in a breath, trying to hold his tears back. Penny slept through the whole meal, giving you time to talk. Bruce asked all about her and how your pregnancy went.

He followed you back to your apartment and just watched Penny sleep as you talked on the couch. When she woke up and started wailing when she realized she was still in the horrid carseat, you gently pulled her out and handed her to Bruce.

She quieted down when given her freedom from the seat, her big blue eyes meeting Bruce’s own. She smiled up at him as she shoved her fist in her mouth, inspecting him from her spot in his arms. Bruce cooed over her as he wiped the tears from his eyes as he held his little girl for the first time.

The second his other kids found out about Penny, there was a group outside your door begging to see her and offer their babysitting services. Every single one of them adored her and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Penny soaked up the attention like a little sponge.

Cass and Duke were her favorites but she still loved all the others. Bruce was over whenever he could be to help, taking a very active roll in Penny’s care. You barely lifted a finger, only having to feed her when Bruce was around.

You eventually agreed to move into the manor with Bruce. All the kids were ecstatic. It would make seeing you and Penny easier for them. Bruce and Tim convinced you to quit your job, Tim promised you work at W.E if you were set on working and all the others offered to bring you along when they went to help out at their favorite charities and organizations.

Bruce made sure he was open and honest about everything, including his Batman adventures. The kids all came to you when he pissed them off or made a call that they didn’t like or they thought was unfair. Things were looking up and you hoped they stayed that way.

They stayed up, in fact they went higher than you thought it could. They went higher and higher and Tim was the one who started it.

“Hey mom, do you know where my black dress shoes are? I have a meeting I need them for.” You just stared at him, trying not to cry. Tim looked up, trying to figure out why you weren’t answering him and then why you looked like you were about to cry. You knew the second he figured it out, his face going bright red.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ot anything! I’l-” You cut him off.

“It’s ok Tim! You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just surprised. You’re more than welcome to call me mom if that’s what you want. You’re shoes are in the coat closet to the left.” He nodded and went to grab them.

“Thanks mom!” He called out as he stepped out the door to head to work. You couldn’t hold the tears back once the door was shut and again when you told Bruce that night. He just smiled as he held you while you cried, happy to know his family was doing well together.

Dick did it next. He had come over to celebrate finishing a tough case as Nightwing. He brushed past Bruce and came straight to you. Wrapping you into a hug, you hugged him back and waited until he pulled away to let go. Bruce let out a teasing scoff, clearly not upset but pretending to be. Dick pulled away to look at Bruce.

“I came for Alfred’s food and to get praise for my good job from Mom.” He stuck his tongue out at Bruce before coming back in for another hug. You held him tight, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He inspected you closely before breaking out in a grin. “Is is because I called you mom? Aww!” He hugged you again. “You shouldn’t be crying because I called you mom, you should be crying because it means you can never leave us. You’re stuck here with us forever.”

“That’s a good thing. I love all of you so much I could never leave you guys.” Dick hugged you tighter. You didn’t mention his teary eyes when he pulled away.

Cass started calling you mom shortly after. She used it when she signed for you. It took everything not to cry at her performance when she used it for the first time. Once she started, she refused to call you anything else. You were mom and everyone knew exactly who she was referring to when she did it with the others.

Duke jokingly started calling you “Mom 2”. He had apologized later on if it offended you. He still had his mom and while she wasn’t all there anymore she was still his mom and that title belonged to her. You had held him as you both cried, reassuring him that it didn’t bother you and you had no problems with it or with him just calling you by your name. Promising him that you would never be offended over something like this and he shouldn’t feel pressured to call you anything other than your name if he didn’t want to.

Damian was next, you knew his mom was still alive and that he cared for her greatly even though their relationship was a bit rough. So you expected him to just call you by your name, it never bothered you and was something you just never thought about. It was up to him to decide what he was comfortable calling you.

“Ummi, can we take Penny to the Zoo next week? I want to show her the baby lion the was just born.” Damian had run into the kitchen to ask, interrupting your breakfast with Bruce but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Of course, we can go after you get out of school on tuesday.” Damian cheered and went to tell Penny the news. The 8 month old having no clue what was going on but feeding off of Damian’s excitement.

“Y/n,” you turned to look at Bruce. “Ummi means mother in arabic.” You stared at him like he grew another head. “Damian just called you mother.” Bruce pulled you into a hug as you realized another one of his kids viewed you as safe enough to be their mother. Bruce gently rocked you in the kitchen as you tried not to cry again.

Jason’s happened next, you would have been more excited if you hadn’t been so terrified. You had gotten nervous with all of them out on patrols so Bruce had given you a com so you could listen and know that they were ok. Unfortunately it also let you hear everything going wrong.

You nudged past Bruce to get to Jason. He was laying on a bed, freshly patched up after a really bad mission. He had been stabbed 3 times and shot 6 more times. He was out cold but Alfred assured you he would be ok if he took the time needed to heal. You didn’t leave his bedside for 3 days while he slept. Worried that the second you stepped away something bad would happen to him.

“Mom?” You jerked out of your thoughts and looked to Jason. He was barely awake and looked scared. He looked every bit of the little boy he had lost in the explosion and it broke your heart and made you glad Bruce had stepped out to put Penny to bed so he didn’t have to see it.

“I’m here. What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” He whispered a yes so you called Alfred to up the pain meds, staying with him until he was fully lucid and kicked you out to get some rest.

Jason stayed in the manor for a few weeks and let you, Bruce, and Alfred nurse him to help. Alfred pulled you aside and asked that in the future if any of them get hurt badly again, that you weaponize the look of horror and sadness you had when Jason tried to leave early that made him stay longer. You agreed to try, especially if it would make the chances of them healing better higher.

Bruce proposed shortly after, of course you said yes and the wedding planning began. A year later you were officially married. In that one day, you got a Husband and 7 kids, making for a total of 8 children. Well 9 if you counted the baby from the test you had taken the night before the wedding.

“Say Y/n’s Pregnant!” The photographer yelled as she started snapping pictures, perfectly capturing the moment your family processed what she had said.

Things were good. You were happy with your family and you knew that even through the hard parts, you would be ok.

#dc #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #Bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #fem reader #batmom reader #batfam x reader #batmom x batfam #cassandra cain #duke thomas

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yelenasdiary · 2 days ago

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this might be weirdly specific but would you be able to write a fic where Kate Bishop is (fem)reader's best friend and she comforts reader after a breakup and it leads to romance? Could be fluff or smut, idrc

Take Your Time

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader (Platonic to Romance)

Summary: After dealing with a breakup, your best friend is here to help you get over you ex anyway she can.

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.4K

AC: I missed writing for Kate so much!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy x

It had been weeks since you and your ex-girlfriend broke up, but the heartache still lingered. You took some time for yourself trying to enjoy your hobbies once again, trying to not let the little things remind you of a love you once had. It wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms, but it still didn’t ease the feeling of your heart being broken into a million tiny pieces.

The night was young, and the city of New York was loud and vibrant with its night life. Even with the light rain that trickled over the city, that didn’t stop the city from becoming a city of magic on a Friday night. While everybody was making it clear they were glad it was Friday, chit chatter from the street floated its way into your apartment by the open window of your bedroom, you were lying on the sofa with another case of red, puffy eyes.

The throw pillow had a damp spot from your afternoon tears as trashy romantic movies played on the television, you knew it wasn’t going to help you heal but something drove you to just spend the afternoon binge watching the classics. Your phone would light up every now and then only to be ignored, your eyes not even moving from the television to see the who was trying to contact you.

Your afternoon of self-torture was cut short when your best friend, Kate, let herself into your apartment. “Alright, let’s turn this crap off” she said, reaching for the television's remote and turning the screen black.

“Kate! I was watching that” you groaned, slowly forcing yourself to sit up.

“I know but” she paused, dropping her backpack to your feet and taking a seat next to you, making herself comfortable, “I think you forget that having friends around you in a time like this helps. So, here I am and in that bag is plenty of snacks, mostly your favourite ones” she continued with a soft smile.

You sighed lightly, defeated by your friends kindness, “I guess you’re right” you said before reaching for her backpack. “Of course I am, you know who I am, right?” Kate joked, making you laugh for the first time in what felt like a very long time. “So, you’ve had a break from the world and now you’ve locked yourself away in this apartment. It’s time to have some fun!” She added.

“Honestly, I’m not really up for… um, fun right now” you replied, your eyes stinging with every blink.

“Fine,” she said dramatically, “then we’ll just sit here until you realize how amazing you are and how ridiculously terrible your ex was” Kate teasingly smiled.

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, and Kate seized the opportunity as she nudged you with her elbow. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh more than once” she said proudly as you playfully rolled your eyes at your friend before opening up a bag of your favorite potato chips. “Okay, fine, you can stay but under one condition” you replied before munching on a few chips.

“Go on?” Kate questioned.

“We don’t talk about her, like ever” you muttered, your mouth still somewhat full. Kate let out a chuckle, “fine by me, I came over here to watch a bulk load of action and comedy movies, eat some pizza and tell you about this thing Clint did on a mission last week!” Your friend smirked as she reached for the television remote again.

----

As the night went into the early hours of the morning, losing complete track of time as you watched movie after movie with your best friend. Your coffee table littered with rubbish of pizza boxes, empty soda cans and juice boxes, empty bowls of melted leftover sundaes, chop sticks along with the small take-out boxes from the Thai restaurant a few blocks over, it was truly a mess.

You couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to even for a moment to forget just how much fun you always had with Kate. Each movie you guys watched; she’d have you laughing to the point of tears by her like banter with the different characters. With both your stomachs full, the night life of New York City slowly fades from the chit chatter of pedestrians on the street to loud truck horns and trains on the train line.

Not only did the city start to calm down but so did your apartment. Tiredness would soon start to hit you, reminding you just how late in the night it was. Gently, you rested your head on Kate’s shoulder, “thank you for making my day” you said softly, your eyes focused on the movie playing on the television. Kate smiled softly to herself, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at your actions.

“You’re welcome” she replied, “I know break ups suck but you can’t wallow in it forever” she added.

“I know, I guess…I guess I just hated not knowing what to do. You always hear stories of people growing apart, but I never thought I would relate to that” you admitted, sighing heavily to yourself.

“You deserve so much better” Kate spoke softly, “I mean, who breaks up with somebody over text? To me, that kinda says they didn’t care too much. You deserve somebody who loves you for you, who’s stomach gets all twisted and full of butterflies whenever you walk into the room, you deserve somebody who’s face feels warm when you la-“Kate stopped herself mid-sentence abruptly and quickly reached for her drink. Her sudden shift made you frown ever so slightly.

“Kate?” You said calmly, “are you okay?” You asked.

Kate turned to you and smiled softly, “I’m good, I guess I just missed hanging out with you” she replied, feeling her stomach turn on her. Her eyes quickly moved back to the television, leaving you to watch her become slightly nervous.

Gently, you placed a hang on top of her knee, allowing yourself to sit up right again. “Kate, come on, what’s going on?” You asked her. She took a sip of her soda to give herself that short extra seconds to panic on the inside before she nervously swallowed the mouthful of soda and looking at you once again, this time struggling to keep eye contact.

“Please don’t freak out, I know things at too soon and look at me go, good one Kate! About to mess things up!” She rolled her eyes at her own frustration, “I never really liked you being with her becau-“ she paused once again as she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but care and patience as you gave her the time she needed to gather her words. “because I think you’re incredible and they never deserved you in the first place….and I think if anybody is going to spoil you and love you for who you are….I want it to be me” she continued. Her eyes dropped once again; this time worried for any form of rejection.

Carefully you cupped her face with one hand, wanting her to look at you. She looked at you like a lost puppy who’d thought they had done something wrong. Her eyes making you smile softly at her as you crushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you didn’t mess anything up Katie” you started, “I’ve always been in awe of you but in all honesty, I didn’t think you would ever look at me more than just a friend” you added, making Kate smile softly at you.

“Would it be awful of me to say that I’m so glad a broken heart pushed a confession out of me?” The archer asked nervously. Her words made you chuckle, “I’m starting to think of it more a of a bless of some kind. Maybe it this was exactly how things were supposed to go” you replied, your eyes sparkled from the glow from the television giving Kate another reason to admire your beauty without the worry of being caught.

Kate took a deep breath, “so, what now?” She asked.

“We take our time, enjoy this new chapter... and see where it leads us,” you replied, “if that is something you’d be interest in of course” you quickly added, your own fear of rejection suddenly creeping in. Kate gently took a hold of your hand, removing it from her cheek “I’d like that, one moment at a time” she spoke softly. “Maybe next week I could take you out on an actual date?” Kate asked, feeling the warmth of your comfort embracing her as you gave her a soft nod, “it’s a date, Katie” you said before placing a kiss on her warm cheek.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #Kate bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x you #hailee steinfeld

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ghostgirl-22 · 1 day ago

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Idk if you write this kind of thing but i have ocd and i always see art as having it. Im just imagining Art spiralling, becoming neurotic and obsessive over his appearance, hygiene, schedules, social interactions ect til he has a nervous breakdown/panic attack

Mostly just imagining patrick being there for him over the years, calming his attacks, distracting him, helping him loosen up and telling him everything is okay and he loves him, he can always tell when arts mind starts drifting again and he squeezes his hand to ground him and remind him hes there ❤

Ooh lovely anon sorry this took forever <3 I wrote the whole thing from Arts perspective and realized I really don’t have much (read: any) experience with ocd and didn’t want to go to deep into thought processes so I just decided to scrap everything and try it from Patrick’s pov. I probably still fucked it but I hope that you will forgive me and let me know if I’ve harmed you in anyway by writing this. It is definitely not my intention so I will happily fix any issues<3 I will say some of Patrick’s language and reactions are awkward on purpose because he’s not a trained psychiatrist just some guy trying to be there for his friend.

Anywho! This is SFW. The smallest hints of homoerotic tension but that’s because this is challengers yall!! it’s not conclave which is also a great movie btw!

Everything is romantic 💝

—-

Patrick doesn’t always understand it. He remembers the first time Art had a panic attack in front of him. They were 12. Art had heard news that his grandma had fallen down and was in the hospital. Patrick didn’t know that but he woke up to Art trying to catch his breath. He was soaking wet, just out of the shower, splotchy red, still in his towel. Head down between his hands. Fists clenched around his ears, shaking like he couldn’t get comfortable if he wanted to. Patrick had panicked a bit, thinking he was having a seizure or something.

He hurried out of bed and sat next to Art on his, asking what was wrong. Art could barely get the words out but he grabbed onto Patrick when he got up to alert their floor monitor. “Please no, s-stay with me.” Art gasped.

And so Patrick did. He felt a little uncomfortable at first and started making stupid, tasteless jokes about celebrities just to cut through the heaviness. Surprisingly it got Art to smile and relax his fists just a little bit. He even brought up the time his sister dared him to dress up like Britney Spears and do the dance. That really made Art laugh. “I want to see a picture.”

Later on Art admitted he was afraid he’d caused his grandmas accident because he’d done something dirty (touched himself) the night before she got hurt and maybe God was punishing him. He’d been scrubbing himself raw in the shower trying to redeem himself. Intrusive thoughts in his head about her getting an infection, thoughts about her dying if he didn’t get clean.

“No way, you don’t have that kinda power,” Patrick said gently. “Besides God has so many people to worry about. I don’t think he’s sending all his punishment to a random kid for touching himself when there are murderers out there getting away with it.” He didn’t think Art really believed him but he was definitely calmer before they turned off the light. Luckily his grandma was fine. Just a broken wrist, no surgery required and she went home a few days later.

It wasn’t always related to something as serious as his grandma’s health. Coach told them a few years later that they were on the shortlist to earn recognition for being advanced players (especially for their age) during the end of year banquet. Patrick enjoyed the attention but he didn’t need recognition to have fun on the court. He and Art had managed to become a well oiled machine as doubles partners, they were 14, playing kids who were 17 and the best in their state and beating them. That was enough recognition for Patrick.

Oddly enough Art didn’t take the news well. He was already very strict about his training routine but he went a little crazy at the idea of earning that award. He was up everyday before dawn for two weeks. Running himself ragged in training.

By now Patrick had been roommates with him for 2 years and he could somewhat recognize the signs of an impending breakdown. And inevitably it happened after practice. Everyone else was exhausted, in the locker rooms, showering, changing eager to go home and get food. Art stayed on the court, hitting against the wall. Patrick cleaned up and when he came back out to convince Art to come with him to the mess hall, he noticed that Art was breathless, crying, slamming tennis balls against the wall over and over with all the force he could muster.

“Hey!” Patrick called several times trying to get his attention. “Hey, Art! Stop. Stop,” Patrick said when he got close enough that he could wrestle the racket away from him. Art sort of crumpled in his arms. Breathless, sweaty. His body tense.

That time Patrick sat on the tennis court with him until he started to calm down. Talking nonsense as it started to get dark around them. After a while Art finally admitted he didn’t feel like he was good enough for the award. He’d missed a few backhands while they played in the tournament against Piney Creek Academy and he’d been beating himself up ever since, forcing himself to get it right. “I feel like you carry me. Like I’m not even fucking good.” Art mutters.

“Dont be ridiculous. Yeah, I’m a little bit like a crazy person. But you’re a fucking machine. And I mean that in a good way.” Patrick explains.

Art snorts, little fireflies are beginning to light up around them, the cicadas and crickets are singing. “I don’t think that’s a good thing.” He says.

“In tennis it is…look at Federer. Look, nothing phases him. That’s just like you on that court when you’re not in your head. When everything…like all your mental whatever…when that leaves your head and you’re really playing… it’s like nothing can shake you. Least of all me. I fucking need you baby. Fire and ice. That’s us.”

Art smiles. “You’re comparing me to Federer?”

“Dont let it go to your head but yes. Hell fucking yes,” Patrick says. He still can’t figure out whether or not he’s saying the right thing. He read somewhere talking through it and distractions helped with panic attacks but it doesn’t specifically mention what to talk about. He probably shouldn’t be waving off Art’s very real mental thing as “mental whatever” but he does seem more relaxed. Enough that he’s finally ready to go inside for food. Which Patrick is starving for.

He’s aware of a lot of Arts ticks by the time they’re at the top of the school. He knows about ocd, he’s read a lot about it over the years. He can identify the types of things Art obsesses about. Even the compulsions. He’s still a little sucky at figuring out when he’s contributing to Arts anxiety but he’s really trying not to. And he’s really good at identifying the panic attacks. He’s even been able to stop a few before they got out of control.

When they're on the bus back from an away game and everyone is excitedly chatting about prom that night. Who they’re going with and how fun it’s gonna be. Patrick notices it when Art starts dissociating, when his eyes go glassy and he starts to rock back and forth anxiously in the seat beside him. Touch usually helps a lot to ground him back in reality. So Patrick grabs hold of his thigh, making Art aware of his presence. Maybe too aware. It brings him back down to earth but with how close they were…Patrick couldn’t help but notice it woke up something else. He didn’t want to freak Art out so he decided to ignore it for now, though he grips Arts fingers instead.

“You feel better?” He asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, clearly grateful that Patrick is pretending not to notice as he adjusts himself. “Um it’s a whole thing about prom and expecting to embarrass myself and the thought of that making me panic and then the idea of panicking in front of everyone being embarrassing and then panicking about that yeah…I’m…” he makes the crazy gesture. He’s much more comfortable talking about it to Patrick now. He’s been in therapy and also Patrick’s been there with him since they were little.

“You know Maddy’s not perfect, right?” Patrick says amusedly talking about Arts prom date.

Art nudges him playfully with his leg, “I know.”

“Try to relax and have fun. And remember she came in 10th place in the girls round robin. Dude Stevie Miles beat her.”

Art laughs and takes a breath, continuing to smile fondly. “Yeah…okay thanks Pat. Sorry about—“ he gestures awkwardly to his lap.

Patrick brushes it off. It does intrigue him but he figures now isn’t the time or place to press. “It’s no problem.”

“And I mean thanks for always… I don’t know. Thanks for not freaking out when I…even when we were kids. I’m so glad I got you as my— thanks.”

Patrick shrugs, swallowing on something in his throat. “Listen dude go easy on the punch tonight,” Patrick says, changing the subject. He wraps his arm around Arts shoulder talking a little quieter. “We’re gonna spike it.”

“You’re not,” Art says, eyes wide.

“Dont look so innocent you heard us planning it.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“When am I not serious?” Patrick smirks.

“Whatever just don’t get expelled you idiot. If I have to play those Austrians with Miller as my partner at the Open I really will freak out.”

“Oh no don’t worry,” Patrick laughs like it’s fool proof. “I’ll be there. I’ve got you.”

(I ask that you suspend your disbelief because I needed to put Serena/federer/Nadal and Murray into a previous tennis generation so I don’t have to think about the idea of Art beating Nadal on a clay court cause my imagination is not that big lol. Also I can’t recall who Art and Pat played against in the junior us open. I should probably rewatch the movie 😅)

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art x patrick #artrick #dani’s inbox

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knavcsblade · 2 days ago

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hullo!

hope you're having a decent enough day/evening. i read your latest arlecchino oneshot and mm. yes. "amateur" writer my ass.

i have come by dint of the sheer scarcity of f/f sub!yae miko content. (they ask you how you are, and you just have to say that you're fine, when you're not really fine—)

anyway, thank you for your time! happy late holidays, if you celebrate.

- 🫠 anon

worry not, i'll indulge you, anon. i hope this is to your liking.

woven tails.

+18!

cw: sub!yae miko x (dom)f!reader. overly descriptive. cunillingus. fingering. slightly public sex, if you squint. overstimulation.

wc: 3.0k

summary: you have missed your playful kitsune so much you decided to pay her a visit at the shrine.

a/n: oh, how i love this woman. this was pretty fun to write! i did quite a bit of research on kitsunes and japanese culture for this… send help, thanks!

Sunsets had always been nothing short of beautiful at the Grand Narukami Shrine—truly a sight to behold. The sky’s hues shifted from bright blue to a stunning mixture of pink and reddish-orange in the blink of an eye. Or well, that is how the Lady Guuji would describe it, at least.

She idly stood beneath the ether, taking in its magnificence with twined fingers as the soft breeze washed away any lingering thoughts in her mind. The feeling of her rosy locks being brushed by the wind was almost a lullaby of its own.

The sole reason for her sudden distraction from the moment were the sound of footsteps approaching her, ones she recognized faultlessly. She could even feel you coming from a mile away if she paid enough attention.

“Always the unexpected visitor, aren’t you?” Her voice was laced with that usual wit of hers while she turned to face you. Her elegance was something you had always found intensely alluring, no matter how long it had been since you met each other.

You couldn’t help but watch her for seconds that felt like an eternity. Your eyes lingered on the intricate details of her stunning kimono-like outfit before you even dared to speak. What a breathtaking woman she was.

“Yes, well… I have missed you.”

Her eyebrow arched in pure amusement at your unexpected comment—that little smile of hers only enhanced her reaction. Every mannerism of hers was soft and graceful, and the sight turned perfect as she crossed her arms and you caught the way the cherry blossoms adorned the scene surrounding you both.

She wasn’t used to such vulnerabilities from anyone, even if you had been more open about your feelings in the past yourself.

“My, how bold.” Perhaps it was the dim lighting emanating from the sun that made her almost perceive a faint glow posed on your irises, or it was all a mere figment of her imagination. She knew that look on your face better than she would like to admit, however. “Your words are… delightfully quaint, I must say.”

Your surprise was even greater than hers had been towards your first sentence. She spoke with nothing but the truth, which was fairly uncommon—she had always enjoyed teasing and pranking you. At the end of the day, that was her nature.

Miko’s hum filled the silence as she took a few tentative steps towards you, a slight tilt of her head only demonstrated how occupied she was examining you internally. She knew why you missed her—what you missed that only she could give you.

She circled you slowly as she took in your looks. Her arm crossed loosely right below her breasts, the opposite elbow now casually resting against the back of her hand as her chin was caressed by her index with sluggishness. It was clear she knew just how seductive you found this whole ordeal.

“Are they?”

If only she knew how much you truly missed her… all of her.

“They are indeed,” the smile upon her features was one you could almost hear even though she was right behind you. “What an intrepid little thing you have turned out to be.”

After some time, once she got bored of her eyes roaming all over your frame, she stood before you with the corners of her lips generating that mischievous expression she carried around at every moment. Your presence made her heart pound in her chest, though she would never say it aloud.

This relationship you had with the kitsune was quite complicated in its own way. You belonged to each other in a style neither of you could describe, but enjoyed greatly each time you were face to face. It had taken you such an awfully long time to get her to show her different facets, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I expect you to understand how preposterous it is for you to meet me at the Shrine for such reasons, however. Your cloying excuse is… as endearing as it is foolish.” Her velvety tone only served to make you shudder.

You knew it was ridiculous for you to show up unannounced and expect her to share her warmth, though you didn’t seem to mind it as much as she wished for you to by the way you exhaled loudly through your nose and wrapped an arm around her waist to squeeze her close.

Just how audacious could you really be?

She somehow maintained her poise despite being caught off-guard by your actions. All she could feel was the way your breasts pressed against each other’s and your hot breath against the skin of her soft face. She was grateful her clothing covered the goosebumps you had inflicted upon her—she wouldn’t want you to see the effect you had on her that easily.

“I’m aware of it, Miko. I simply can’t find myself caring when, as I said, I miss you.”

She hummed, hands now resting on your biceps in an attempt to find some balance. “You’re aware, but you don’t care? How charming… Well, perhaps, you should rethink that stance, for your own sake.”

Always the playful one, her lips remained locked on that little smirk you couldn’t stop yourself from finally savoring after such a long time apart. Once more, you caught her utterly unprepared with your sudden kiss, one she would’ve pulled away from if only it weren’t yours. She caught onto all the feelings you poured into it the instant the shock washed away and she allowed herself to flutter her eyes shut—longing, desire, and pure appreciation.

How sweet.

Needless to say, the sight was one that seemed to have been plucked out of one of those sapphic novels Miko often read thanks to you. Pink petals surrounding you due to the soft breeze of the island, the gorgeous sunset highlighting both of your features, and the meeting of lips from two lovers too lost in the moment to remember this was a public setting.

She always allowed you to explore her mouth as much as you wished since she knew just how much you enjoyed it. It was so obvious you needed this from the way your fingertips sunk into the fabric of her obi so she wouldn’t escape from your affections.

She would never.

You were just so, so rushed to feed her your unwavering love with a silver spoon you wouldn’t have even noticed if the shrine maidens were around. You had mindlessly busied yourself with making up a dance with your tongues right after you had licked her lower lip to ask for permission.

It was maddening to withdraw from her at long last, though absolutely necessary. She couldn’t have you running out of breath just from a mere kiss, could she?

“Hm,” she swallowed hard as she took a good look at you, her lips and yours now swollen and glistening with saliva, “Alright… alright. I suppose I can indulge you, just this once. Don’t let it go to your head.”

You could tell she wanted it as badly as you did from the way her eyes were half-lidded and there was a hint of blushing on her cheeks. She could always deny it, but her body betrayed her each time, and it was truly adorable.

Your reaction was quick to the compliance of the kitsune—you twined your fingers with hers just to feel the heat radiating from her body as you pulled the both of you into the inside of the Shrine. You could have easily proven to her how much her absence had been weighing on you right there and then, beneath the Sacred Sakura, but you knew it wouldn’t be to her liking for your intimacy to be so public.

The walk towards her quarters was silent, awfully so. She followed close behind with that wicked grin upon her features as she watched the way your fingertips were digging into the smooth skin of her hand. You were holding back only by a thread, and she began to find your desperation strangely enticing.

After the agonizing moment of tension, Miko’s steps came to a halt against the tatami flooring once inside her personal area. You had been there quite a few times before, but never so late in the day for a reason as superficial as this.

She poured all her focus on how you slid the fusuma shut, though her gaze lingered on the way your clothing draped your figure so gently. It was mouthwatering, in fact—she wanted to sink her teeth and claws into your warm body already. It was difficult to resist, but she managed.

Her composure wavered ever so slightly seconds later, however. This time, she was anticipatory of your actions, though still affected by them. She could see the determination in your strides as your hands rose to cup her jaws and pull her in for a new searing kiss, and the poor woman had to take a couple of steps back from how forceful your grasp was.

Verbal communication wasn't needed there and then. The only sound echoing through the shoji panels were that of the sloppy clicking of your tongues, and it unconsciously filled her belly with a bubbling heat. You were oh so messy it made her tingle.

You forced the Head Priestess to stumble backwards unpremeditatedly, already knowing where that expensive futon of hers lay in the room. Of course, you helped her down on it with gentleness and care, though the contrast of your rough kissing made her realize you would be everything but lenient with her.

She wasn’t the type to surrender so easily to someone—you were that one exception.

You immediately found yourself pressing your moist lips against her neck to savor the soft texture of it, hands working on releasing her of her garments with practiced ease as you relished the jagged breaths she let out.

“So… primitive,” you heard above your head the instant you finally rid her of her robe, which would be situated beneath her at all times until you were done with her. You truly didn’t feel like throwing it away carelessly—it would make the scene less sensual, you thought.

The only vexing piece of fabric that separated you from her fully exposed form was that of her soaked undergarments, which clung to her pretty pussy like a second skin. Your gaze traveled downward to scan this image she provided you in such a selfless manner, and it was so delicious to witness that you contemplated the idea of eating her out over the white material.

Never mind that—you wanted full contact. That barrier would only make it worse.

You had fully ignored her previous comment to wrap eager fingers around the hem of her underwear, thanking Celestia above she never wore a brassiere. Her tits were on thorough display just for you, and you could see the way in which her pink nipples perked up when her hips rose to give you leeway to undress her.

It was almost frustrating how beguiling she was.

“You are enjoying this far too much, aren’t you?” She started, her tone as frolicsome as it was soft, “I suppose I should let you have your fun, hm?”

She expected an answer with the corners of her plump lips lifted slightly upwards, though you managed to catch her off-guard again. She didn’t understand how you managed to do that every time, but it was refreshing and new to her.

The moment you tasted her, that smile of hers dropped to introduce an expression you were familiar with: arched eyebrows and mouth agape as her breath caught in her throat. Where was that playfulness now? She seemed at a loss for words.

Your eyes could’ve rolled to the back of head at the mere feeling of those tangy, slick folds on your tastebuds. Never had you savoured something as delicious as her drenched cunt, and it drove you wild each time.

You made sure to hook your arms around her thighs to keep her close, meeting her gaze throughout the entirety of your favorite meal while her rosy cheeks gave you a sense of pleasure rushing through your body. You loved to see the way her hands grasped her own breasts to massage them while your tongue searched for new sensitive spots on the area you had previously explored several times.

Miko wasn’t a moaner, but rather a woman who would huff, puff, and whimper gracefully at every jolt of pleasure she felt thanks to you. She would attempt be even quieter this time due to how the thin walls of her quarters could easily allow the maidens to hear just how, with no effort, you could make her experience divinity with your lips.

“My…,” the syllable dragged on quietly for an instant, only because she had to silence herself by catching her own lower lip between her teeth. The sight of you amidst her legs was one she could admire for eternity.

You found that delectable bundle of nerves with your flattened tongue after taking your sweet time, something that made her fuzzy ears twitch upwards at the feeling and a gasp escape her unconsciously. Her face contorted while you slurped her juices and sucked on her sopping pussy, which began to clench around nothing as her head tipped back. Her reactions were always so elegant despite the unrefined nature of the situation.

You were aware of the fact that she was in need of more contact—more satisfaction. Who were you to deny her of this?

To her delightful surprise, one of your digits made its way inside her, and this combined with the way you were eating her out, the lewd noises from your mouth, and the heartbeat she could already feel on her cunt, it had been just a matter of time before she allowed herself to moan.

You adored those sounds. They were just as precious as her.

Her walls quickly throbbed around your finger, the intensity of it growing the moment you added a new one and pressed the tips against that spongey little spot on her core. You were driving her insane with each flick of your tongue and the latest movements of your hand.

It was borderline torturous. You suckled her pussy so disgustingly well while your fingers forced that feeling of release to grow in her lower stomach to the point of her legs already spasming. She was so flustered as a thin layer of sweat coated her and made her look heavenly—way better than the evening sky right outside the building.

Her eyes rolled back the instant her vision was blurred by a white flash, and she could swear she saw stars once her orgasm washed over her. All you observed was the way Miko’s back arched, her eyes glowing pink before disappearing behind her eyelids as her long claws buried into the soft flesh of her overly abused breasts.

Maybe your newest idea would make the moment more overwhelming for her, though you didn’t seem to mind it much—you wanted to worship her thoroughly, no matter the consequences.

Your digits continued to pump in and out of her sensitive cunt, tongue savoring each drop of her saline nectar as you exploited her poor, swollen clit. Of course, this drew a mewl from her; she was trying her hardest to come down from her high and you just kept her riding it like it was nothing.

“Darling!” She moaned out, glowy eyes meeting your hungry ones as her features still held that lovely fucked-out expression that made you even wetter than she was.

Her legs continued to quiver around your head while your nose nudged her mound with each soft shake of your crown, and she knew you didn’t plan to pull away until you gave her a louder climax to quench your thirst. Insufferable even at a time like this.

Naturally, one of her hands abandoned her tits to grasp your hair and try to make you calm down, but the sudden, electrifying sensation traveling up her spine forced her to shudder and whimper. Tears were starting to prickle her eyes now, the feeling of vulnerability overly new, though not unwelcome.

She was dripping wet, so much so your fingers were having a hard time keeping themselves inside her—of course you added a new one to continue overstimulating her delicious core.

Oh, she was gone.

Her soft cry was so obscene you would have found your own release from it if only you weren’t so busy helping the woman reach hers. All she could think about at this point was how good you were, how dirty but determined you could be just for her.

Her digits twined with the messy locks of your hair, drawing you impossibly closer to her swollen cunt to almost use you to climax once again. And once she did, her grasp grew stronger and her thighs squeezed your head so firmly you wouldn’t have minded having her asphyxiate you right there and then. It would be the perfect way to go, wouldn’t it?

She moaned in a way you hadn’t heard before—fascinating. It was such a smutty and loud sound everyone in the entire nation could’ve heard her if only they paid enough attention.

Once her hips had stopped their twitchy motions, Miko’s ragged breaths filled the room while your damp lips pressed soft kisses on her inner thighs to soothe her as best as you could.

“Well done,” was all you said as you held her legs in place to rise from your spot and meet her lips with yours. The aftertaste of her orgasm was delicious, you simply wished to share it with her.

She hummed at this, finding it amusing through the haze she felt. She enjoyed the praise, though quietly, of course.

“Hm…,” it took her some time to find her voice as her trembling hand traveled up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Sweetling… do you ever stop to think about how fortunate you are to have me by your side? Only I coddle you this way.”

You seemed to have stolen her playfulness by the way you wickedly smiled at her words, holding her sides gently as your thumb rubbed mindless patterns against her boiling hot skin. “Yes. I think about it every night and day, Miko.”

You weren’t lying. This sweet kitsune of yours was the only thing that flooded your brain constantly—and she would only continue to do so after this glorious encounter.

#–𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.#genshin x reader #yae miko x reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x female reader #yae miko x y/n #yae miko genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin impact #yae miko smut #genshin women x reader #genshin women smut #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #x reader #genshin wlw

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rlbbackup · 2 days ago

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A year in review - 2024 (SxF)

So, after reading the lovely @unhappy-sometimes's 2024 retrospective (which I highly recommend you read!), I thought I'd do something similar!

This will be pretty long and have lots of links and tags but I hope you enjoy this little romp I took down memory lane about all the fics I wrote this past year!

All for Naught

This was a fic that was inspired by a conversation with @glacialdawn and I wrote it up completely in 12 hours. I’m not exaggerating! We were just goofing off in dms and we got on the topic of Yuri’s decision to become an SSS officer and how it relates to Yor’s raising him…and it evolved from there.

All in all, I’m VERY proud of how this fic turned out. Having it be solely from Yor’s POV and forcing her to deal with an abrupt change in how she views her brother was a lot of fun. Of all the reveals that may or may not happen in SxF, I personally feel that the Briar Siblings reveal will be the most critical. Yeah there’s betrayal involved in the TwiYor one and Anya’s reveal will likely end in bloodshed, but Yor has hid what she needed to do to raise Yuri for over a decade and a half at least. And while she admits that her brother is intense, seeing him in his work environment would probably shatter something within her. The work of the SSS isn’t glorious. Neither is that of an assassin.

All this to say that with this as the start of my fics in 2024, I’m not surprised how later fics turned out XD

Hypothetically…

While my Post-reveal, Pre-relationship series has been written almost entirely out of order, I really enjoyed the inspiration that led me to writing this one. When I saw this post by @itsmechini, the words almost poured out of me. Twilight and Yor have had a lot of things taken from them in life, things that ultimately made them who they are but they didn’t have a choice or say in the matter. Having the choice to reveal who they truly are to each other and accepting the other for who they are feels like a healing of that particular wound and I couldn’t help but put pen to paper.

I was also inspired by the writing style of the lovely Puolain while writing this, leading me to use different scene change styles and I think it flows better because of it!

I will also admit that I cried several times while writing this, especially at Yor’s answer to a hypothetical question asked. Beyond that, this was a really cathartic fic to write and I’m glad I got to share it with you guys!

Side by Side and Locked in Tight

THIS FIC.

It’s been bouncing around in my head for a long time now, since I love the song that inspired this (Cop Car by Sam Hunt - there is also a version by Keith Urban, but the Sam Hunt version feels softer so I’m going with that one XD). I had an early draft of this fic existing in my Google docs since… 2021 I think? Right after I fell down the Ken/Anya shipping cavern and haven’t wanted to climb back out.

But actually writing this fic was a STRUGGLE until talking prompts out with the people in the SxF Rare Pair server. While it was a NSFW prompt, handcuffs just broke through the fog I’d had regarding this plot idea and BOOM I was finally able to post it.

While Ken has some of the shortest character involvement in SxF, I love this kid. I get he’s practically an OC at this point, but I’m okay with that and I love playing around with how he’d interact with the Cecil Hall Gang. I want them all to be friends. Anya should have more friends!

Anyway! I go back and read this fic from time to time and I’m still happy with it. Especially the twist at the end XD

Don’t forget to lock the door

Another fic created with the help of the Rare Pair Server! (love you guys!)

One thing that makes me laugh constantly in SxF is the fact that the Forger’s apartment has a deadbolt but it looks like the Forgers never use it XD. Imagine all those times people barged into the apartment stopped by a simple use of a sliding lock 🤣So, why not make it a plot point of a fic!

I blame @creativwit for this ultimately. Though it was a pleasure to write Twilight and Franky needling each other and Yor soothing both of them. On a second/third/however many times I’ve read this thing, I still love how they are soft with each other in their own ways.

Little Black Number

A fic inspired by my own art!

Sometime in 2023, I was talking to some friends on discord when I was reminded of Princess Diana’s “Revenge Dress” that she wore after then Prince Charles’ “Tell All” interview where he sort of hinted at being unfaithful to her during their marriage. This spiraled into “I’m pretty sure Yor would look fantastic in the Revenge dress” and going from there.

Now, based on anecdotal evidence, it’s believed by myself and others that SxF takes place mostly in an alternate version of the 1960s. Endo-Sensei does mix things about the world regarding technology in his story, but the fashion is straight out of 1960s fashion magazines. So, the revenge dress is way out of the possibilities. Still. I think the dress would look good on Yor and drew it!

The dress I describe in the story is notably different (namely that the skirt is ankle/floor length versus the above knee design of the inspiration).

To the story itself, I really want Yor to have friends and while I’m still wary of Melinda I think the two of them could be close! So I wrote about them having girl time together, bonding even when they are in two different social groups and where they can compromise on things. It was a quick and fun write! I really loved this one!

A moment of weakness

This fic was inspired by @/usleepover's art on Twitter!

Like most of the other fics mentioned here, this was inspired by chats on Discord. I have USleepover and @astersugar for this. Long before ch. 109, we were wondering what would lead these two to interact, and guessed that it would probably involve Dr. Forger’s office. Now…that conversation spiraled into something wildly different from what I did in this fic, but it did inspire me.

As a little more background, I have had a fic in the background for a year and a half now where Yor experiences a medical emergency and how the Forgers’ lives change as a result. I have no idea when or if I will ever post that fic since it’s…heavy. Emotionally and mentally heavy. But I was able to write this in relation to it. While I’m not specific in what ails Yor, I did leave enough for one to guess. Like it’s larger, heavier sister, this fic took an emotional toll on me. Having someone you love in the hospital and not being able to do a damn thing to help them is…difficult. I can’t put into words exactly how difficult that is. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, that’s how bad it is. So writing Loid and Melinda come to terms that they are out of their depths and still want to do something for Yor was cathartic in a way. I’m really happy with how this one came out and still reread it on occasion.

Rendezvous

I half blame @sister-cna-reader for this 🤣Her Hidden Under Roses’ Au with McMahon and Sylvia has me in a CHOKE HOLD and I was sunk for this ship from the start. So I decided to write about it. The other person I “blame” for this is @/Ari_Gateau on AO3 for encouraging me and ultimately giving me the prompt idea in the first place! You both are wonderful and I love you dearly!

I went back and forth on where in any timeline to put this, but ultimately decided that my PRPR verse was the best place. With Twilight and Thorn Princess revealed to each other, I could see their handlers also involved in that. Handler and Director aren’t exactly friends, but they are allies enough to watch each other’s backs if they find themselves on an assignment where they have aligned goals.

Leaving this fic with the ending I did was a choice I also debated internally but I like it! And I guess that’s what matters 🤣

Pink Sakura

OH BOY THIS FIC.

The inspiration for this hit me upside the head very suddenly on Kiss Day (May 23) and I decided to choose violence. Like with Side by Side and Locked in Tight, I pulled my “canon but mostly an OC” buddy Ken back for some hanahaki “fun” 🤣This one is in the same universe as Flowers and Thorns, but this is clearly the angster younger sister. And once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. I wrote for almost three days straight before I was ready to post this. But it was worth it.

Adding Anya’s chapter wasn’t something I had originally planned (not that there was much planning involved in this fic 🤣) but once I finished Ken’s chapter, I realized there were some pretty glaring plot holes. So I used Anya to fill them and I think that worked out really well! I know hanahaki isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoy it and I’m glad I wrote this one!

New Moon Blues

I return to my Myth Au! 👏 I’ve mentioned this in my author notes, but this whole au was developed by several people (@httplovecraft1890 , @gonnahypatia, @whatroguewrites, @awphooey2u, @juuyeah and @connoisseursdecomfort) and started by @foxtamer113. I couldn’t have made this without everyone’s inputs!

This one was a plot we had discussed ages ago. I think once we nailed Loid and Yor’s roles down, we almost immediately started brainstorming how Anya fit into their lives. We pretty much made her their biological child from the start (if my memory serves me), which I genuinely love in Aus. We did debate over HOW she was born, even though we agreed that she would be a baby goddess. One of the ideas mentioned was something about mingling blood and tears but we decided that the "Athena" route was much more fun to play with. In the end, I altered it just a bit mostly because of inspiration from a comment on the story before this one (Soothing Rays). (thank you to that commentor! I can’t find it right now, but you are amazing!)

Floodgates / Throwing Away Fate (just to keep you safe)

These fics are a RIDE my guys.

First off, Floodgates was originally a gift from the lovely @creativwit and I hijacked it because of conversations about this au on discord 🤣(like several others on this list amirite??) The idea of Kasper came from those conversations and we’ve grown insanely attached to him. Originally, he was going to be the contact that Garden silenced in ch 43, but we loved him too much to do that.

Since then, we had this idea of what would happen if Franky really did end up in Garden’s crosshairs, and Wit wrote the first chapter of Floodgates as a start. I’m pretty invested in Yor as a fault, so I kept thinking about how she would handle this situation and ended up writing the “interludes” for this fic. I’ve since renamed those chapters to the lyrics of Loyal, Brave, True by Christina Aguilera since that’s the song I primarily write these chapters to.

Throwing Away Fate is a prequel (hence why i’m mentioning it here) and was pulled from those same conversations. I love the idea of Kasper already been head over heels for Franky before the real action gets going in Floodgates, so I wanted to explore how he found Franky and went on this adventure running from Garden. Originally, I had wanted to write more (up until they are found in Floodgates ch. 1) but I was running out of steam and didn’t want to force myself any farther. Maybe one day I’ll (or wit, or both of us together) write the scene where Shopkeeper finds Kas. That might be fun 😈

Crosslegged in the Dim Light

Unlike the song this title is drawn from, it’s pure fluff! I saw this art by EvuriKigen and immediately started writing. There wasn’t much thought put into the development of this fic since I just started writing. The only thing I did think was that I wanted this to be in my Post Reveal/Pre relationship series, where even though Twilight and Yor have all their cards on the table, sometimes they don’t need to talk about the specifics of their jobs. They know and trust their partner, and that’s really the point of this story. 🥰

Inferno

Shifting gears pretty abruptly, we once again dive into my chats over discord 🤣While I will grumble about how Yuri’s superior doesn’t have a name 😒, I love the dynamic Endo-Sensei set up for the First Lieutenant (I know in the English version he’s called “Captain” but the Japanese says “First Lieutenant” so that’s what I’m going with!), Yuri and Chloe. So I wanted to expand on that outside of their tracking down WISE agents.

And while I know there is no evidence of any of them being closer than colleagues, my shipping brain just loves the idea of Chloe at least admiring her superior. Hence This fic.

Like Crosslegged in the Dim Light, I wrote this one very quickly and with little thought about plot. I’m pretty happy with this one!

7 Minutes in Heaven

This one was a beautiful joint venture with @cambot77, @sister-cna-reader, @strangeduckpaper and @creativwit! As with several of the last fics, this one started it’s life on discord. It was our original hope to have this done by Kiss Day (May 23) but that changed as we all kept writing. It was a blast!

Writing out a list of all the pairs to start off was a treat because I kept randomly forgetting some of them XD. But we got them all and planned out a vague idea of what could happen in each chapter. Then I used an online spinner to divide up the ships that hadn’t been previously claimed. After confirming that everyone was happy with what they had, we made the order.

Ao3’s Collections and Co-author features really helped us here and reading everyone’s chapters brought me genuine joy. It’s so wonderful watching how all of our different writing styles and takes on the characters fit together as a whole. I honestly cannot pick a favorite chapter since I love them all. Thank you all again, my dears. This project was so much fun!

Complicity

The fact that it took me 9 months to finish this one is still astounding to me 🤣I had planned for All For Naught to be a stand alone, but then I saw a prompt on the @dailytwiyorprompts tumblr and that quickly flew out the window!

Seeing everything from Twilight’s perspective and going through his mental gymnastics was honestly a blast. Not sure if there will be a follow up to this duology or not, but anything’s possible.

Psyche

The last fic I started in 2024. This is a gift for the lovely @cantareincminor and was something she requested specifically. Her prompt was: “Mole hunt arc with a twist: Garden sends Thorn Princess to Shellbury to assassinate Wheeler. Instead of Nightfall, Thorn Princess is the one to stumble upon Wheeler and Twilight. She absolutely mops the floor with Wheeler and saves Twilight. Up to you whether his mask is off or on—could be awesome either way if she believes her husband or her brother is in danger.”

No going to lie, I was completely surprised when this developed into a 10k first chapter. The second chapter is still in the works and looks like it may also end up about that length and there’s no clue about the 3rd. But I want to talk about the inspirations behind this fic beyond the prompt.

The title for this fic changed multiple times as I was writing it and probably spent more time as “untitled” than anything else. But within the day I posted it, I was struck by Orpheus by Cantare herself! I honestly love mythology (as my Myth series shows I hope 😅) and considered the wider plot of where this story would go. Without giving away too much, the story of Eros and Psyche just fits. Yor is the wife that doesn’t truly know her husband and through some twist of fate ends up finding out. While this story won’t be a one-to-one retelling of the myth, there may be echoes found within it until the end. And I’m really excited to share that with you all!

Honorable Mention: Sleeping with the Telephone

While I started this fic back in Nov 2023, a lot of it has been written in 2024. This fic has been an honest to goodness rollercoaster to write…and it’s not done yet.

In my author’s note, I mention that I originally wrote part of the first chapter as a one shot on my RP blog, but it has developed moreso than I could have anticipated. There are a lot of themes in this, from draftees suddenly leaving their children and spouses behind, to family dynamics and the struggles therein, how war impacts relationships as a whole, and the like. Of course most, if not all, of these are addressed in Spy x Family, but bringing the war back to Ostania and having them fight another country entirely was interesting.

Unlike the phenomenal @niregonnagiveyouup’s Not a Vein of Stars (which i HIGHLY recommend), I wanted to base this story around some of the hot conflicts during the Cold War. The US and USSR were infamous for recruiting other countries to help fight “their own” wars (like the Philippines sending troops to South Korea and The Warsaw pact sending troops to fight with the USSR in Albania). This still happens in the present day (such as the UK sending troops to Afghanistan and Belarus to Ukraine), even if it’s not to the same insanity that WW2 was. I don’t like it. I never have liked war, and writing this story from the perspective of a family being caught in the proverbial crossfire helped me hate it all the more.

But this story is a passion project of mine. I’m at the home stretch and re-reading this story to center myself for that happy ending I’ve promised myself really helps me love it all the more. Someday soon that fic will have a complete next to it’s name and I can’t wait.

I know this was long as heck, but thanks for sticking with me! I didn’t realize I had written so much this past year since I took a break for a good chunk of it. But in hindsight, I’m really proud of how all of these works turned out and want to thank everyone who read, left kudos and/or comments. You all are wonderful!

Happy 2025 everyone! Here’s to more stories! 🍾

#long post #Like TOO LONG #Year in retrospect #spy x family #rachel writes things #sxf fanfics #my works #behind the scenes

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use-your-telescope · 1 day ago

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*walks in absurdly late with Starbucks to reply*

CLEO!! HELLO!!!!

*strolls in six months late with Starbucks* is my modus operandi — you are in good company, my friend (also, I hope you never think I am sitting here tapping my watch waiting for reactions, because I’m simply happy you enjoyed enough to reblog!)

Anyways, onto replying:

Look, I love Shuri. Like, LOVE Shuri. The fact we didn’t get more of her earlier in the MCU is a goddamn crime. So this is my humble attempt to remedy that (though I would not dare claim I have captured her character — she is way, WAY cooler than I will ever be!).

Northern Michigan!! The amount I have learned about the UP in the process of writing this story has been a bit wild, but it also has been really fun — hubs actually suggested we take a vacation sometime and visit so I can actually experience this place I have researched and written about! But that requires the schedules align (among other things). I have been close to the UP, but not quite there (based on other convos we’ve had, I know you get what I mean).

Anyways, TLDR: I appreciate you and your kind words

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 5: I'm Looking for a Sign

Summary: Theo begins the onboarding process for becoming an Avenger, and finds some time to sneak away.

Author's Notes: Sorry this is so late in the day! It has been a hectic weekend. This chapter (and the next) really focus on Theo, so there isn't much Loki... but he will be back soon!

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3 Also, feel free to send me a message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Next chapter should be coming November 12th!

Content Warnings: Canon-typical fighting (there's a training session).

Word Count: 5,525

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Good to Be Alive - PVRIS

Learning how to swim but the lands are dry Feeling like a shark, If I stop I'll die Things are lit and the blood's on fire Underneath the buzz of the telephone wire All my friends are doing fine While I’m looking for a sign Is this body even mine? Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

Onboarding with the Avengers was akin to drinking from a firehose.

Every waking moment was full - between orientation at the SHIELD Hospital, procedural trainings, mission briefings, and combat simulations, Theo hardly had a moment to breathe, much less think.

Either way, Theo had no interest in showing that the rapid pace was throwing her off her game. Instead, she bit her tongue and kept her wits about her, vigilant for even the slightest indication that something was amiss. Theo wouldn’t speak unless spoken to, and if spoken to she gave the impression of polite compliance - now that she was in the thick of things, stirring the pot would only make it harder to get this over with.

However, there was one element which she protested… Despite her insistence otherwise, part of Theo’s onboarding required being equipped with new armor.

She hadn’t needed armor before, so it seemed silly. If anything, she needed clothes that let her move freely and without detection. However, Fury insisted that Theo needed additional protection in the event that her magic wasn’t enough. The result was Theo, standing in Tony Stark’s lab, regretting every decision that led her to that moment as the overly smug engineer combed over her appearance with a shit eating grin.

“So, Rapunzel-” Tony leaned back against a table in his lab, crossing his arms. “I hear you need some armor.”

“That depends on who you ask.” Theo’s eyes scanned the room as she crossed her arms, leaning her weight on one foot. “Fury sure thinks so. I’m not convinced.”

It seemed like a standard engineering lab. A mixture of concrete, steel, and glass surrounded them, while harsh lights glared down from above. Scattered around the lab were more computers and machines than anyone knew what to do with, and various employees mulling about as they worked on assorted tasks. One person sautered metal, while another ran tests on what Theo could only assume was the newest rendition of Tony’s infamous suit. Clattering keys, clanking metal, and multiple beeps echoed throughout the sterile space. A metallic smell, tinged with chemicals and burning filled the air.

“Well, that’s where I come in.” Tony winked, picking up some kind of glass tablet and waving it at her. “If you ask nicely, I might even let you customize it.”

Theo rolled her eyes. “Asking you nicely sounds like too much work.”

“Don’t listen to him.” A woman appeared from around the corner, walking up to the pair with a swagger and a blinding smile that contrasted her umber skin. Her braided hair was twisted up into space buns, which combined with her brightly colored outfit made it painfully obvious just who Theo was speaking to. “I’ll make you better armor, and I’ll let you add whatever features you want without having to ask.”

Shuri Udaku, the princess of Wakanda.

For the first time that Theo could remember, she was, officially, starstruck.

“We haven’t officially met…” Theo offered a wry smile and nod to the princess, doing her best to keep her cool.

“I’m Shuri, princess of Wakanda and head of the Wakandan Design Group.” She stuck a hand out to shake, smiling brightly with just a hint of something amusing in her eyes. “Colonizing gave him a big ego, but what he would make is nothing compared to what I can make you.”

Theo couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled out of her from the dig at Tony.

“Oh, I like you. I’m Theo.” She took Shuri’s hand, offering a firm shake while praying her hands weren’t too sweaty.

Tony pouted, giving Shuri a dirty look; Shuri smirked at him.

“So what does this armor making process entail?” Theo glanced between the pair, waiting for further instruction.

“First, we’ll have you spar with one of our guys; get a sense for your style. From there, we’ll draw up a base set. You’ll give it a trial run, push the boundaries so we can see what works and what needs adjusting.” Tony explained, watching Theo as she continued observing her surroundings. “Then, we’ll make a final version.”

“Okay…” Given Shuri’s comments on building better armor, Theo suspected Shuri wasn’t her partner. Then again, it didn’t look like anyone there was ready to practice fighting - certainly none of the lab staff, who all but ignored Theo’s presence. Maybe she would be fighting Tony or one of his robots?

“Okay what?” Tony tapped on the tablet a few times.

“Am I sparring now?” Theo raised her eyebrows at him expectantly as she shrugged, glancing around the room. “I don’t see anyone who looks like they’re ready to fight, much less a space to fight in. Unless you want me to break your equipment, which is probably pretty expensive… Then again, you’re the Avengers’ Sugar Daddy. It’s probably pocket change for you to replace these.”

Shuri snorted at Theo’s comment.

“You’re not fighting here.” Tony rolled his eyes, pressing away from the table and gesturing for Theo to follow. “We have a training lab. Your partner will meet you there.”

That explained why she was told to come to the lab in clothes she could exercise in. Theo trailed behind, almost having to jog in order to keep up with Tony. “Who am I sparring against?”

Tony stopped in front of a door, pressing some sort of code into a keypad on the wall. The door hissed as it slid open, revealing none other than Captain America himself.

Oh shit.

Steve smiled, waving to the trio as they entered. Theo, on the other hand, froze in place, her stomach dropping into her feet. Couldn’t they have picked someone with magic, at least?

“He’ll go easy on you to start.” Tony winked, turning to lead them into another room.

Theo’s face must have betrayed her reaction - this was not going to go well, but not for the reason Tony Stark thought.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Theo gulped, eyes darting between the others.

“We’ll start simple.” Steve reassured her, following along with the group.

Fury must have held back on explaining Theo’s abilities if he was so calm about their impending duel.

The room that Tony brought them to was empty, save for a collection of cameras around the room and a table filled with sheets of stickers, each no larger than a pea. Mats covered the floor, presumably so that anyone who went down fighting was less likely to be hurt.

Cute, but a few mats weren’t going to be much help when it came to fighting a mage.

“So, how this works: the cameras will track your motion.” After gesturing to cameras around the room, Tony held up a sheet of stickers. ”These will be stuck to you so we can get a sense of your movements. You fight, then we use the data to design your gear.”

The thought of sensors stuck all over her body made her cringe. Of the many roles she expected to fill, lab rat was not one of them.

Fury fucking owed her for this.

“Oh joy...” Theo sighed, resigning herself to her fate. “Fine, let’s do this.”

Shuri brushed past Tony, grabbing the sensors. “I will handle this - I have just the touch.” She smirked at Theo. As she began to place the sensors, she leaned into Theo and whispered, “Kick his ass - I can fix broken white boys.”

Yes, Shuri was her kind of person.

Theo snickered, but held still so Shuri could continue placing sensors. Shuri made quick work of the task, her touch gentle but firm as she secured each device to Theo’s skin.

Once all the sensors were in place, they were ready to begin.

“In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve never ‘just sparred’ before.” Theo spoke up, circling around Steve.

She absolutely had sparred before - hundreds of times. But this way, if she accidentally went too far, she had an excuse. Besides, Steve didn’t have magic, and only fought with a shield.

Really, this was not a fair fight.

“I’m durable, don’t worry.” Steve offered a charming smile. “I can do this all day.”

Theo shook her head, gesturing with one hand to conjure her weapon. Runes slid down her arm, twisting around each other in the air until a blade of shadow appeared in her hand. “I’ve dulled my weapon so it’s not going to slice you open, at least.”

“Awfully kind,” Steve winked, lowering himself into a ready stance. “Ladies first.”

Well, here goes nothing.

Theo took a deep breath, stepping forward and offering the first swing.

Steve leapt back, darting forward to attempt a blow of his own.

Theo nimbly jumped to the side, swinging her blade down and landing clean on Steve’s back.

As Steve was knocked to the ground he spun around, attempting to kick out Theo’s feet from beneath her.

Theo leapt over his kick, pressing forward to a somersault in time to pop up and block a punch, taking another swing with her blade.

The two fell into a rhythm of trading blows. Steve certainly had his merits as a fighter - if they were in hand-to-hand combat, he easily could have kicked her ass. But this wasn’t hand to hand combat - Theo had her weapon to give her some distance, and if nothing else she was damn good at dodging anything and everything that attempted to hurt or kill her.

If this was all that was involved, she could do this all day… Well, as long as her lungs held up okay.

“Are you going to use any of your magic?” Steve grunted, dodging a blow from Theo as he kicked at her.

“I try to only use it against other magic users.” Theo replied, bringing her blade down to block the kick.

As if he took Theo’s response as a challenge, Steve picked up the pace. Still, Theo had yet to break a sweat. What she lacked in brute strength, she more than made up for in endurance and agility.

The sensation of being watched by someone new led Theo to do a scan of her surroundings as she blocked a punch from Steve.

Her instinct was spot on - not just one person, but three new people. Maybe it was a bit of ego, or a flair for the dramatic, but if there was a larger audience… Well, Theo could show off a little bit and it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“It seems we have an audience…” Theo commented, tumbling backwards before teleporting behind Steve and hitting him from behind.

“I thought you didn’t use magic against non-magic users.” Steve coughed, then spun around to find her smirking at him.

Steve threw a punch, only to have it go right through her - it was an illusion. He frantically scanned the room again to find Theo leaning up against the wall, arms crossed as she dangled her sword from her right hand.

“Well, we have an audience.” She repeated with a wry shrug, pointing to the new arrivals with her blade. “Can’t let the new girl disappoint.”

Standing in the entrance, Wanda, Bucky, and Loki watched the two spar. Wanda appeared to be amused by the interaction; Bucky was laughing at Steve, and Loki…

Well, Theo wasn’t sure if he was amused, unimpressed, or bored.

“Alright, so this should get interesting now, right?” Steve turned to face Theo again, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.

“Perhaps.” Theo kept a straight face as she pushed off the wall, preparing for Steve’s next move.

“Theo, remember what I said – I can fix broken white boys!” Shuri jeered.

A smirk flickered across Theo’s lips.

Bucky doubled over, howling with laughter as Steve let out a huff.

As long as she stuck to the celestial magic, she’d be fine.

Steve rushed towards her.

Adrenaline rushed through Theo’s veins. It had been a while since she’d really had a chance to show what she could do; the prospect of flexing her skills felt almost liberating.

No, she needed to keep it under wraps.

Singing under her breath, a wisp of white shot through her sword. Once Theo stopped, the melody continued to reverberate from the blade, haunting yet almost impossible to hear.

Steve launched forward to throw a blow, but Theo was too quick - she spun and took him down from behind with the hilt of the sword.

“Is your sword singing?”

“Magicians don’t reveal their secrets,” Theo winked. She jumped back, curling her fingers to gesture for Steve to come get her.

Steve rushed forward, only to find himself shocked with cosmic energy. What the-?” He froze mid-motion, dropping to the ground. “

Shit.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?” Theo dryly inquired, cocking her head to the side.

That was too strong.

“Well, it wasn’t pleasant…” Steve shook his head, staggering briefly before he returned to his feet. “It’s fine - I can do this all day.”

Yeah, that was stronger than it should have been. But why?

“Sorry, I’ll try to temper it a bit,” Theo apologized, while praying it wasn’t obvious that she used more than she intended.

“Don’t go easy on me.” Regaining his composure, Steve resumed charging at her and throwing blows. Theo took a more defensive approach, focusing solely on dodging blows instead of doing damage while she tried to figure out what made her spell so potent.

“Not to be weird, but what phase is the moon in right now?” Theo tried to make the question as casual as possible, hoping it would come off as small talk and nothing more.

“Don’t tell me you do that horoscope shit.” Tony groaned from the sideline.

“There’s nothing wrong with horoscopes, grandpa.” Theo feigned offense, but she was grateful for Tony’s ignorance as to why she might ask the question. “Besides, Astrology is more real than the stock market.”

Shuri snorted.

“It’s a new moon tonight,” Wanda answered. Theo glanced over to catch the Scarlet Witch staring at her phone, lips pursed as she studied whatever was on the screen.

Well, that explained the magic surge.

“Good to know.” Theo kept a casual tone to her voice, rhythmically moving as she dodged and parried Steve’s attacks.

They sparred for another few minutes; Theo continued to stay away from offensive spells, but occasionally threw in an illusion or teleported so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Even if she wasn’t giving them the best data to build her gear with, she wasn’t going to pull out all the stops until it was actually necessary.

Besides, she didn’t really need the armor in the first place.

“Alright Rapunzel, I think we’ve got enough data to start.” Tony announced, tapping the screen of his tablet with a flourish..

Steve dropped his offensive stance, straightening up while he caught his breath.

“Good match.” The friendly smile Steve flashed indicated that he didn’t seem too upset about being shocked.

“Likewise.” Theo returned the nod as her shadow blade vanished.

All in all, it wasn’t the most intense workout she’d ever had, but she did get a bit sweaty and was a little out of breath. Maybe Steve was stronger than she gave him credit for. After all, he was a super soldier.

Then again, she assumed that fighting a super soldier would require enough exertion to make her asthma flare up; given she was still breathing alright, perhaps he also went easy on her.

Whatever - she wasn’t going to dwell on the subject.

Shuri returned to help remove the sensors.

“You held back on him.” She raised an eyebrow at Theo, sending the sorceress a pointed glance before stepping behind Theo to remove the sensors on her back.

Unsure of how else to respond, Theo simply shrugged. “I don’t need to add to my body count.”

Shuri sighed, skepticism written on her features as she leaned around Theo to set the sensors on the table. Perhaps the princess had a better sense of Theo’s powers than she let on. “I told you, I can fix broken white boys.”

Yeah, but she couldn’t fix a pile of dust.

“I don’t think killing Captain America would be a good way to start my tenure as an Avenger…” Theo raised a challenging brow.

Shuri laughed; apparently she thought it was a joke. Theo offered a thin smile.

“One of these days I will get you down here and test you without limits so I can design you the ultimate armor.” Shuri chided, though she still smiled at the newcomer.

Theo offered a curt nod. “Maybe.”

Shuri’s expression told Theo that she took the answer as a challenge.

At the sensation of a bead of sweat trickling down her temple, Theo grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it up to dry her skin. As she dropped the fabric, she caught Loki studying her. A sense of curiosity peeked through his piercing gaze, cool green eyes glinting beneath the lights.

Theo wondered what ran through his mind. Was he trying to figure out if she was actually a threat? Or was he more focused on where she came from?

Once the sensors were off, Theo started towards the door. She had no interest in socializing, plus she wanted nothing more than to shower and wash the sticky, gritty sweat off her skin.

“Hey Theo, we’re about to head to dinner - do you want to come?”

Enthusiasm colored Wanda’s voice; when Theo turned to face the witch she found Wanda smiling hesitantly, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m going to pass,” Theo feigned an interest in the invite, even as she turned it down. “I’m still getting settled in and all.”

A pang of guilt shot up in Theo at the sight of Wanda’s falling face. She could empathize with the pain of rejection; there were countless times when Theo was a little girl when she asked Rae to play with her, but Rae would decline because she was busy with lessons and far too old to play games. Back then, Theo was too small to understand why, but she could still feel how her chest would twist from being turned down.

This, however, was different. Between the appearances at her show, the game, and the invites to hang out, it was obvious that Wanda had ulterior motives. After all, Theo was there when Fury told the Avengers that their mission was to get Theo to stay - and what better way to rope her in than to try and be her friend?

Rather than dwell on the matter, she offered a small wave and hurried out of the lab.

This could not be over fast enough.

Lost big dreams that I really don't need Everything I love is gonna find a way to leave Got good friends that I never can see Always on the run while my plans are free I been staying up all night Shaking needles out my spine But the doctor says I'm fine Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

Living on-site was a non-negotiable of the deal (much to Theo’s dismay), but she had to admit it was convenient - she never had to worry about shit going down on the subway when her workplace was an elevator ride away.

Regardless of where she actually lived, there was one thing she needed to do before anything else: set up a portal to her Mémère’s house. The ritual of creating one long-term portal was tedious, but once set up the long-term portal’s convenience far outweighed the nuisance. Theo visited the family’s matriarch often enough that having a travel method faster than public transit was a necessity, especially with the distance between them. After all, it wasn’t like she had the time to fly back and forth between northern Michigan and New York every weekend.

Creating the portal wasn’t hard; the big challenge was figuring out where to put it. She didn’t want it in her bedroom, since Mémère and Max occasionally used the portals she set up to come visit and the last thing she needed was for them to walk in on her in any number of compromising positions. However, she didn’t want to set it in a location where people would question why she had a misty oval in her wall. After an unnecessary amount of debate, she opted to place it along one of the walls in her main room and take advantage of some well-placed curtains to hide the addition.

With the portal in place, it was time for a field trip.

The crisp air of northern Michigan was a far cry from New York’s heavy, thick skies. It was easier to breathe - not just because there was a lot less pollution, which was notable for someone like Theo, whose lungs were sensitive to smog - but because the nearly silent, still world around her made it easier for the tension to melt from her shoulders and to relax with each inhale and exhale. Michigan was the opposite of New York City, a constantly bustling metropolis where it was all too easy to get lost in the shuffle.

Theo stepped through the portal to find herself in her grandmother’s equipment shed. That was intentional - no one would think to look there for a portal. Weaving between the farm equipment, she pushed the worn wooden door open and stepped outside.

Around her, the evergreens that towered above swayed in the breeze, wind whispering through the branches. In front of her stood the farmhouse, with white weathered siding, wide windows, and a wraparound porch that Theo had spent countless nights sitting on. To her left, a worn path led from the porch down to a small beach with a dock, while the waves of Lake Superior lapped up on the shore. She didn’t have to look behind her to know an old, worn out barn stood in its same place, though it had been years since any animals were kept inside.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted two vehicles parked along the dirt drive - a red pickup truck and a green subaru outback.

Max must have been visiting.

Theo crossed the distance and ascended onto the porch, approached the front door, gripped the worn brass door knob and turned the handle, pushing her way inside.

“Hello?” Poking her head inside, Theo glanced around the living room to find it empty. She stepped inside, closed the door, and toed off her shoes. The sound of clattering dishes echoed from the kitchen, while two voices floated above in animated conversation.

“Ah, my bichette!” A raspy voice called out, followed by the shuffling of feet. Just before Theo reached the hallway, a petite elderly woman appeared.

Mémère had seen more than her fair share of life in her many years on Earth, and it showed. Her tan, papery skin held deep wrinkles and age spots dotted themselves across her cheeks and forehead. In the almost fifteen years since Theo had left for college, the matriarch of the Durand family had aged considerably - every time Theo saw her, she swore that Mémère shrunk another inch. Mémère moved considerably slower than in the past, undoubtedly her advanced age catching up to her. Still, she had a bright spark in her amber eyes and a sharp wit that could not be deterred.

“Hi Mémère,” Theo greeted, embracing her grandmother. Though it had only been a week or so since they’d last been together, it seemed like the elderly woman’s bones were even more prominent, jutting into Theo’s flesh as they hugged. “I saw Max’s car outside - is he here too?”

“Of course I am.” Max appeared over Mémère’s shoulder, arching an eyebrow at his older cousin. “One of us has to keep things in order while you’re off playing superhero.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like–”

“Now now, I do not need you two squabbling to take up my Saturday,” Mémère said, pointedly glaring at the cousins before gesturing for everyone to enter the kitchen. “You both are doing wonderful things, and I’m happy to have you both home. I’ll put some coffee on and we can all catch up. Leenie, have you had lunch? I don’t have many options at the moment, but I can make sandwiches.”

“You’re not going to ask if I’ve had lunch?” Max scoffed, to which Mémère rolled her eyes.

“My caneton, you’ve been here all morning. I know you haven’t had lunch.”

“Sandwich sounds lovely.” Theo answered, trying not to laugh at Max’s feigned offense.

As they stepped into the kitchen, everything was familiar - the same butcher block countertops, the same painted cabinets. Holiday cards were stuck to the fridge with magnets, and a picture of Theo at her college graduation still hung on the door. Things were so much simpler then.

“So, tell us all about your first days as an Avenger - are you settling in? Have you made any friends?” Mémère gave her a knowing wink, making her way to grab sandwich meat and cheese from the fridge. Theo retrieved plates out of the cabinet, setting them on the counter.

Theo couldn’t stop herself from laughing at Mémère’s questions. “I’m not really there to make friends, Mémère.”

“No, but you have to live and work with them.” Even if she moved a bit slower than she did ten years ago, Mémère was still sharp enough to pick up on Theo’s unspoken hesitations. “You’d be smart to befriend them, or you may be miserable for the foreseeable future.”

Sure, Mémère was probably right, but Theo was not about to admit that aloud.

“How are you handling things out here?” Theo changed the subject. “The shed looks like it’s seen better days.”

“Oh, things are fine - Max comes by almost daily to help with things around the farm; he also helps with running errands and such.” Mémère waved a hand dismissively, while Max gave Theo a shit eating grin. “Father Tim - you remember him - he’s also around a lot to help with things.”

Surprisingly, Max did not interject with some snarky comment.

Theo nodded. “And you’ve been okay, health-wise?”

Mémère smiled, though Theo picked up a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I’m fine, bichette. Still kicking. Still here to tease you endlessly.”

Theo laughed softly, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine you doing anything else...”

A silence fell in the room as the final condiments were set out on the countertop.

“This is less fancy than the restaurants you probably go to in New York, but hopefully it still tastes good.” Mémère joked, gesturing to the spread of sandwich toppings. “I’ll let you build your own, so it’s just how you want.”

Theo laughed. “Just because I agreed to join the Avengers doesn’t mean I now scoff at a sandwich.”

While Theo and Max put their sandwiches together, Mémère made sure they each had a cup of coffee poured and at the table. Once the trio assembled their meals, they each took their regular chairs at the kitchen table.

“What have you done so far?”

“Nothing exciting, really.” Theo palmed the ceramic mug in front of her, eyes following the curls of steam as they floated upward. “A lot of onboarding crap. I was supposed to spar with Captain America and that was, uh, interesting. Next week I’m supposed to start doing interviews and shit, but I don’t really get why I’d waste my time with those when I have actual work to do.”

“Told you, playing superhero.” Max interjected, to which Theo scowled.

“I don’t think it’s a waste.” Mémère mused. “Now the world can learn of your gifts. You’ve spent far too long trying to conceal them.”

Mémère always thought the best of Theo, and that went for her magic as well. Despite disagreeing, Theo gave up on trying to convince her otherwise a long time ago.

“Are they gifts?” Theo pondered, studying the barn through the window panes. “There are a lot of people who think they’re curses.”

“They are what you choose to make them.” Mémère reminded her granddaughter. “You’ve chosen to make them gifts, to use them to help people.”

Theo nodded, though she didn’t entirely agree with Mémère’s assessment. She knew Max probably didn’t agree either. The council certainly didn’t.

“How’s work, Max?” Theo tried to change the subject.

“It’s fine.” Max paused to take a bite of his sandwich. “No complaints.”

“And Ellie, Katie? How are they?”

“Good. Katie’s daycare is now preparing her to start preschool.”

Theo nearly dropped her coffee cup at the news.

“Seriously? She’s a toddler.”

“She’s three, and she’s way ahead of her developmental milestones. The staff think it’s a good idea. Ellie agrees. She’s a pediatrician, so it’s her job to know that kind of stuff.” Max shrugged as if he was completely unaffected by the prospect of his child starting preschool.

“This is what happens when two doctors have a baby, I guess.” Theo muttered to herself.

Theo may have been the one in the Avengers, but Max was always the responsible and cautious one. It was pretty common for the council members to lament that Theo was the next in line - they claimed it was because she was a loose cannon and unpredictable; that wasn’t the real reason, but none of them would admit the truth to Theo or Mémère’s faces. Still, they weren’t wrong when they pointed out that Max was steadfast and rational. He naturally embodied the characteristics of a wise leader.

Maybe that’s why he was so pissy about her accepting the Avengers gig - until that point, Theo was the one living in Max’s shadow.

Mémère must have sensed the tension between cousins, because she took over the conversation from there. Even if things between Theo and Max were always tense, conversation with Mémère came easily. Beyond trying to catch up on what had happened in Michigan since Theo’s last visit, Mémère had plenty of her own questions about Theo’s transition to being an Avenger.

Even if they weren’t Theo’s favorite questions, she owed Mémère real answers.

Once they finished their sandwiches, Theo stood and collected the dirty plates, bringing them to the sink so she could wash them.

“How long are you visiting for?” Mémère asked, still sitting at the table.

“Just the afternoon - figured I’d use my first moment of free time since starting to see how things were here, plus grab some stuff to bring back with me.” Theo said, letting out a sigh. “I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving, so I imagine I don’t have long before they start looking for me. They’re kind of obsessive like that.”

“Well, you know where your room is - It’s always ready, whenever you need it. Feel free to head up whenever.”

Given Theo could hardly sneak away for an afternoon, she found it hard to imagine she’d need the bed anytime soon.

Setting the last plate on the drying rack, Theo made her way upstairs. Over all the years she had been here, the whole house had barely changed - same furniture, same photos, same faded wallpaper covering the walls. Her feet carried her down the hall, almost on autopilot as she made her way to her old bedroom. Standing in front of the entrance, Theo took a deep breath, turned the knob and opened the door.

Inside, the room was still a breath of fresh air - pale yellow walls, big windows with sheer curtains. A queen size bed with a patchwork quilt sat in one corner; one of Theo’s old guitars from when she was here before remained in another corner. Her old Van Gogh poster was still on the wall above her dresser.

Despite remaining exactly as she left it, there was no dust to be found - Mémère must have cleaned the room while she was gone.

She always kept the room ready in case Theo needed to come home.

Theo’s heart twisted at the thought. It was almost enough for her to say “fuck it” and stay – at least for one night. After all, it had been a long time since she actually visited for more than a day or two, and the Avengers needed her, not the other way around; she could make them wait.

However, her cell phone quickly reminded her that wasn’t an option.

“Anyone seen Rapunzel?” The Avengers group chat lit up.

Theo rolled her eyes, but replied anyway. “Visiting a friend. Be back later.”

Whether she wanted to or not, Theo knew - the show must go on.

So tied up and tired of this self-inflicted fight In spite of, I light up, to leave my demons I tell myself I'm fine while I'm looking for a sign Is this body even mine? Feels good to be alive but I hate my life

#e replies to reblogs #wemtbb #Loki fic #Loki fanfic #Loki fanfiction #when everything's made to be broken #Loki slow burn

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wordyneonlights · 5 months ago

Text

Strawberry Flavoured Love

Ahahahahah heyyy. I did a rewrite of season 4 episode 5 kind of. purely based on @golden-redhead 's post about five getting a thank you and a genuine hug from his siblings. Sorry if you hate this though, I've never written for tua before!

6 years five months and one day.

Five turned over to see Lila sleeping a smile playing on her lips. This past month, that had been the only time he'd seen her smile. When she was dreaming.

It had been a sort of strange adjustment for her, he supposed. Being stuck so long never sat too well for Lila whether it was as a suburban mom or in this subway hellscape.

Five had adjusted remarkably well to their predicament... Lila had adjusted better than most. He could imagine being down here with someone like Diego who would have broken dowm months if not years ago.

Out of all his siblings, he figured Klaus would be the most enjoyable to spend this time with, him or Viktor.

That being said, Lila had proven to be more than mediocre company. He'd even go as far as to say, she was an almost pleasant person to be around.

She hadn't said a word about his reaction to seeing Dolores after all these years. His outburst had surprised even himself.

She'd just hugged him, wiped his tears and made rat stew. They hadn't talked about it since. He was sure he had to do something to thank her, something to show his appreciation and it found him in the form of a strawberry farm.

"I've got something to show you," he told her once she had woken up

"I'm guessing it's not a portal back home,"

"It's a shower and a bed to sleep in,"

She frowned slightly before eyeing five, "You're not giving up are you? Because I'd hate to do this whole thing on my own,"

Five rolled his eyes, "I'm giving you a chance to shower, trust me you need it." Lila eyed him before shrugging, "Ok then,"

It was about an hour later when they found themselves situated, behind the strawberry plants picking and occasionally eating in silence.

"Grace loves strawberries," Lila whispered softly and five's heart hurt for her. He'd spent more of his life away from his family than with them but he understood how she felt. Helpless but driven, tired but still willing to keep moving.

He turned back to his own strawberry plot, "We'll just have to pack some to take with us," he replied simply, pushing some of his pile to the side and placing them in a makeshift bag before turning to face her, "We're going to be back soon, you will see your family again," he said and she laughed wryly

"You said that yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that,"

"And I'll keep saying it until we get back,"

Lila sighed, and Five shifted on his feet. He suddenly wished that Diego was here. They were going through their troubles but Five sort of applauded his older brother.

They had had an awful blueprint for relationships, and that was putting it lightly. It was surprising but admirable that Diego was able to have a family like that; weirdly, Five was kind of proud of his brother.

"About Diego," he started and Lila frowned before her expression melted into something more wistful. "He's... my brother,"

Lila rolled her eyes, "Oh really?"

"In the sense that he's annoying and rushes into stuff and he can be brash, but he's a good guy,"

"I don’t know Five. It's great being able to see my parents again, being able to know my family? That's something I never even dreamed was possible. And I love my kids ok, I love my kids but marriage? That's- "

"Marriage only works as long as you’re willing to make it work,"

"Yes but-"

"Are you willing to make it work?"

Lila paused, looking down at the strawberries for a while before responding "Yes I am,"

"And so is Diego,"

Lila scoffed a small smile playing on her lips and Five smiled inwardly. He felt strangely accomplished.

"When'd you get so wise about marriage? Huh old man?" She joked elbowing him

"I guess Dolores taught me a few things," Five responded, sorting more strawberries.

"That she did."

6 years 5 months and 2 days

There was something beautiful about finally cracking a code. He'd personally never been involved in the world of drugs but Five supposed that this would be what a hit felt like.

Out of this fucking world.

He stumbled over to Lila shaking her, "I've got it!" He said, "I've cracked it we can go home!"

Her eyes opened and she blinked at him blearily, "What?" She muttered

"We're going home," Five responded placing a hand on her shoulder, "You're going to see your kids again"

"Am I dreaming- ow!" She asked before glaring at Five who had punched her hard enough to let her know that this was real.

"C'mon, we don't have much time left,"

"We never have much time left," she muttered getting up.

The walk back was full of tension, on Five's part he wasn't that worried. For his siblings, this had been a couple of hours. Lila however was fretting.

"Do you think they'll remember me? My kids, my family, Diego..."

"It's only been a couple of hours for them remember? They probably think you went out or something, d'you have the strawberries?"

She nodded, wiping her palms on her trousers before walking up to her door.

She was about to put her key in the lock before the door opened revealing Diego.

"Where've you been? I missed you!" He exclaimed and both Lila and Five's eyes widened. Did he somehow know something?

He embraced Lila who was fighting back tears, burying her face in Diego's shoulder.

"I missed you too,"

Five walked inside not trying to get in the middle of their moment. Walking into the living room he caught sight of the rest of his siblings. He hesitated, thinking about the subway. It was probably something he should tell them about.

"You alright Five you look kinda pale," he heard Luther ask

"Doesn't he always look kind of pale?" He heard Allison whisper

"This is a more... haunted pale than his usual pallour," Klaus chimed in

"Guys..."

"Five!" He heard, turning around to see Diego, he was about to say something when Lila noticed Grace and immediately ran to her.

"Mommy, you're squeezing me too tight!" The girl exclaimed to which Lila hugged her even tighter before loosening the hold, "Where are the twins?"

"Kitchen, come on!" Grace responded tugging on her mothers hand.

Five watched the scene unfold a small smile on his face reaching for the strawberries before he felt a hand on his back.

"Lila told me everything, I just... I want to say thank you,"

Five turned to face his brother, nodding but before he could speak, Diego had bent and wrapped his arms around him. "And thank you for everything else you've done. For us I mean, thank you for saving us, thank you for choosing us. We do love you Five, I hope you know that."

Five was (to say the least) shocked. The last time he had hugged any of his siblings was... could he even remember? Not any time in the last six years... or the six years before that.

He reciprocated the hug anyway although he still felt awkward

"You're family," he said, "I'll always choose you,"

Diego just hugged him tighter in response, staying that way for about a minute before pulling apart. Five barely had a moment to breathe before Klaus pulled him into another hug.

"If Diego gets a five hug, I get a five hug," he said simply to which he got a small smile in response

"Well now I feel left out," Luther complained standing up, and looking at Five who rolled his eyes in response before sighing and opening his arms.

Luther, as he would later admit to himself, was probably the best hugger out of all his siblings.

"Alright," he said turning to face the rest of his siblings, "Are we done?"

Allison and Viktor eyed each other before looking at Five. Viktor got up first awkwardly surveying five before wrapping his arms around him.

"Guess that was about as awkward for you as it was for me," he said pulling away

"I've been through worse things," Five mused to which Viktor laughed

"I guess we all have,"

"Well?" Five said facing Allison, "I've got about one left in me,"

"A five hug is the best type of hug," Klaus commented giving Allison a look

"Plus we've all done it, you don't want to feel left out," Luther quipped

Allison sighed before getting up and walking towards five. She bent down and hugged him gingerly.

"I am sorry for everything," she whispered, Five nodded in response and she pulled back.

"Now that everyone's done, Lila and I have something to tell you."

It was strange how six years five months and two days could be condensed into five minutes and about a half bowl of strawberries. Five almost smiled and the strangeness of it.

"It seems like you're always finding your way back to us," Luther mused as the weight of his and Lila's revelation eased slightly.

"I guess it's a good thing, that way we stop the world from ending," Allison said

"Ending huh," Viktor muttered

"Either way, you always end up saving us," Luther finished, "I'm not sure we've ever thanked you for that,"

"Well, staying alive is thanks enough," Five responded

"No, no, the big guy's right," Klaus chimed, "Our thanking should be oratory, expressive. You've saved our lives so many times now,"

"And you spent like forty years in the apocalypse," Viktor said

"Plus six years in the subway with Lila,"

"I think what we're trying to say is thank you," Diego finished

"Merci merci Five-a-rino, I suppose we owe are lives to you," Klaus added.

"Thank you Five," Luther said, squeezing his shoulder.

"Can't promise I won't fuck it up again but thank you," Allison echoed

"If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have been able to get closure with dad so... yeah thank you," Viktor mused giving Five a half smile.

Five himself wasn't really sure what to think about the whole situation. Appreciation was always welcome, but for his siblings to all be in agreement and sincere... that touched his heart somewhat.

"You're welcome," he replied. The statement felt perfunctory in the wake of the others' vulnerability so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"I mean, all this is... I would do it over again. You all aggravate me to no end but at the end of the day there's really nothing that means more to me than you all,"

There wasn't much to say to that, but there was an agreement that nothing more really needed to be said. For once, the siblings were at peace and Five was ... well he was happy.

He wasn't sure what would come next, if there would even be a next but he knew that sitting here he felt more ok than he had in years.

And really, what more could an old man want?

#am i getting better at endings guys??? i actually can't tell #anyways hope you enjoyed this!! I had fun writing it #sorry if all the characters aren't 'in character'if I write tua again i'll make sure to work on it #added some five praising diego moments because why not????#tua #tua season 4 #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #just realised that ben isn't in this... oops #let's just pretend he's happy living life with jessica:)

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noxious-fennec · 9 months ago

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3 years and I'm STILL IN THE FUCKING BUILDING... unbelievable... anyway happy re-bday to my pathetic cringefail politician

Alt ver. under the cut

***Massive disclaimer: i do not support the cc this is strictly about the fictional character

#cwilbur #c!wilbur #dsmp fanart #my art #woah hi hello how's it going #still in this hellhole i couldn't claw my way out my fingernails are too short #still had to do smth for this guy i mean cmon. major influence over my life for years #speaking of which hey major redesign. you know why.#nothin much to say. random outfit. face based on gregory peck tho it's not rly clear here #lives tattoos i thought were fun. tried to make the revived life look like a shitty stick n poke dont know if that reads well #aro ring but on the wrong finger whoops. dont care enough to fix it #anyway hope you enjoy :p fangs for sticking around xoxo #OH and first time writing an image desc. hope it was good!! ik its like a mile long but idk how to be any more concise #fennec.art

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thefrogdalorian · 10 months ago

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Ner Aliit

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian.

Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.

Word Count: 5.4k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader kills someone with a blaster in self defence (Nothing is described in graphic detail) and subsequently deals with anxiety/panic attacks. ✯ Author's Note: Today is four years since I watched Mando for the first time so I wrote this to celebrate! Inspired by a little daydream I had while looking at my own Mythosaur necklace. It's an AU where Din never had Grogu but still had shiny beskar, allow it ahah. Really hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading! 🤍

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

You can already tell from how Din’s footsteps thud a little heavier than usual against the ramp that something has angered him during his latest hunt. Perhaps he will share what precisely has troubled him later when you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro. For now, you head towards the door, ready to help Din haul his latest bounty into the antiquated ship you call home.

Except, the man who stands before you is not Din Djarin.

Instead of the gleaming beskar you had been expecting to greet you on the ramp, a gloomy silhouette moves into view. There is something far darker about your presence than the man you had expected to see. It is not just the grimy, worn clothes he wears that send a shiver down your spine. Nor the way his beady eyes bore into you. They are sunken in his wizened face with a look of pure malice which sickens you to the pit of your stomach.

You are initially so shocked by the fact that the man standing before you is not Din, your eyes frantically examining the features of this stranger, that you almost fail to notice the weapon aimed at you.

Your heart skips a beat when you notice that the man is holding a blaster up at you. He stands unmoving, with his long, grungy fingers curled around the dark handle. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. However, there is something even more terrifying than the reality of having a blaster aimed squarely in your direction.

It is the expression on his face.

His glare is unrelenting in his coldness as his finger hovers over the trigger. You do not doubt for one moment that he will pull it.

Throughout your life, you have been exposed to danger many times, even before you met Din. Such brushes with death only increased when you started travelling through the galaxy with a bounty hunter. It was to be expected, of course. You think of the numerous occasions when you witnessed Din becoming embroiled in terrible binds and scrapes while you sat back and watched the carnage unfold. At first, you had been terrified by such violence. Now, you have come to expect it.

Perhaps before you met Din and began travelling with him, someone holding a blaster at you and gazing at you with such viciousness as the man before you would have been utterly petrifying.

However, it seems that the best bounty hunter in the parsec has somewhat hardened you to the realities of the galaxy.

After the initial shock, you feel yourself accepting your current predicament with remarkable quickness. You assess the man's vulnerabilities and weak points, as Din once trained you to do. You notice a slight quake in his hand, the greyness of his scraggly beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He is not invincible. Soon, the terror you initially felt is replaced with anger; a simmering feeling in your gut as you are incredulous at the audacity of this man to threaten your life in this manner. You are furious at his attempt to intrude into your and Din's safe refuge like this. You are disgusted by him.

You have encountered plenty of unsavoury characters throughout your travels across the galaxy with Din. This pathetic coward does not faze you.

"Where is he?" the man finally speaks. His voice is gruff, his tone sharper than you imagined. It matches his wizened, wrinkly face, seemingly hardened by the decades of experience he undoubtedly possesses.

“Who?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

You know that the man will not buy your plea of ignorance regarding The Mandalorian. Yet, your act will buy you a few precious seconds to execute your plan. Plus, the more you converse with the man, the higher the chance his nerve may waver and that his sympathy for you might increase as you humanise yourself. You hope that by talking to him, his determination to mow you down in cold blood may decrease.

“Don’t play with me and give me a story full of bantha crap,” the man snarls, jabbing the blaster towards you, "I know you know where he is."

“I’m sorry,” you respond apologetically.

You know you must diffuse the situation and undo the damage you have caused with your blatant lies. Without hesitation, you raise your hands in a submissive gesture. Then, when the man does not take issue with a simple movement, you begin backing away from him. Fortunately, he lets you go. You can barely contain your grin as you know what you have in store for him.

Unknowingly, this man is playing right into your hands.

This old rogue may have thought he could get the upper hand on The Mandalorian by returning to his ship and threatening his travelling companion. Unfortunately, he has underestimated the advantage you gain from knowing the Razor Crest inside out, including all of this old ship's quirks.

When you are satisfied both by the distance you have placed between you and your assailant and your relative proximity to the control panel, which is the key to your plan's success, you fake a stumble backwards. Your hand collides with the button that, when depressed, rapidly releases a cloud of pressurised gas into the hull. The jets that shoot out of the walls soon fill the Razor Crest and form a temporary barrier between you and the man that obscures you from his view. The distraction gives you just enough time to grab a blaster from Din’s workbench and aim it towards your surprise visitor.

Then, without really consciously thinking about the consequences, you squeeze the trigger.

The sickening thud of the man’s body hitting the floor is the last sound you hear before you retreat up the ladder to the cockpit and seal yourself inside behind the secure door. You are pretty sure he will no longer prove a threat to you, but you have no desire to stick around and find out for definite. The reinforced door will provide sufficient protection, hopefully long enough for Din to return.

Given that someone managed to reach the Razor Crest and callously threaten your life, you cannot imagine that Din will be far away. If the man has accomplices, you do not doubt Din's capability to take them out before he returns to ensure your safety.

Yet, as the minutes pass by Din is nowhere to be seen.

You are unsure how long you sit on the hard floor with your back to the door, trembling as you sit there. At first, the tremors that have overtaken your body may well be thanks to the frigid metal. Its coolness certainly does not help. As the adrenaline wears off and the realisation of what has just transpired dawns on you, you rapidly become reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck.

Your state of mind following the skirmish is made worse by the paranoia which overtakes you.

Initially your primary concern is for your own safety. You brace yourself for the companions of the man whose body lies below you to barge in and finish the job their ringleader started. You wonder which weapons they may possess.

Would you try to fight them off, or should you flee?

You wonder whether you could even begin the launch sequence of the Razor Crest and fly away in search of Din. He has attempted to teach you how to fly the ship for emergencies such as this, but to your presently terrified brain, the dashboard looks like a confusing conundrum of buttons.

At the first thought of him wandering through the forests which cover the planet’s surface, your overactive imagination now runs away with the worst scenarios of what could be happening right this instant, elsewhere on this planet.

Visions of the Mandalorian you love, lying in a ditch somewhere on this forest-covered planet, injured and frightened after being ambushed by the same band of dastardly scoundrels overwhelm your senses.

The fear that Din will never return to you, that the depth of your feelings towards him will remain unsaid forever, shatters you.

You are unsure how long you sit there. Each creak and noise of the ship, noises that you are usually so familiar with and accustomed to now work against you, startling you each time. It is a constant cycle of alarm as your breathing rate picks up and your pulse rate thunders in your ears each time there is a faint thud. You feel your resolve draining with each disturbance.

So when you hear the sound of the Razor Crest's ramp whirring as it lowers to the ground, you barely have the energy to react. Instead, you are relieved that you are now seconds away from meeting your ultimate fate. One way or another, you will finally be put out of your misery. Whoever enters the Razor Crest will not be met with much fight from you, whatever their intentions.

When you hear footsteps this time, you believe that the thuds are indeed the familiar rhythmic, certain sounds of your favourite bounty hunter. Until you lay eyes upon him, however, you will not allow yourself to believe that fact.

Fortunately for your anguished soul, you get confirmation of Din’s return before ever laying eyes upon him.

“Cyare?” Din calls, his deep voice cuts through the ship up to the cockpit where you continue to cower in the cockpit, “Are you alright?”

You are so relieved to hear him that you could almost burst into tears. Before that happens, you must give him some acknowledgement that you were unharmed in the skirmish.

“I’m up here in the cockpit, Din,” you respond, alarmed at how your voice trembles as the adrenaline has worn off, “I’m alright.”

You push yourself up on shaky limbs to stand and prepare to reunite with the man you have grown so close to. You aren't entirely sure when it happened, falling in love with Din. You certainly never intended it, nor did you imagine that the aloof bounty hunter who was so stoic and barely spoke could reveal himself to have such a beautiful soul beneath his cold, metallic armour. Yet, somewhere along the way, as you hurtled through hyperspace together, you did fall in love with Din.

It was not one moment but rather a collection of smaller fragments which, when pieced together, form the warmth that spreads in your chest each time you think of Din. It has been the late-night conversations sitting in the red leather chairs of the cockpit, reminiscing on your past lives. The ability that Din possesses in never failing to make you laugh. Even on days when you feel despondent. It is how considerate Din is of you; he never fails to check on your well-being and ascertain whether you can handle one more job or whether you should return to Nevarro for a few days of rest.

All of those moments and more contributed to your present feelings for Din.

You realised how deeply you cared for him when you first noticed your overwhelming desire to please him. The fact that, without even realising it, you had learnt how he liked his ration packs prepared even if you could never enjoy a meal together, given the helmet restriction. You realised that you had attentively watched how Din polished his weapons and studied how he stored them so that you could alleviate some stress when he returned from another hunt and needed to rest. You have noticed that, even though your lives are in many ways different, you both retain the same core values and principles. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are traits you both hold dear.

Only moments ago, it had crushed you to think you would never get to enjoy such moments with Din again.

Now, you stand here, practically bursting with joy as you realise you will soon be back with the man whose presence you yearn to always be in. You can hear his feet hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up to the cockpit and take a deep breath to steady yourself, even though your entire body quivers with the last dregs of adrenaline and the anticipation of seeing Din again.

The door opens. The familiar glint of the Beskar you had been expecting to see earlier finally comes into view, soothing your nerves instantly. Din surges towards you. You barely have time to react before his arms are around you. He brings a gloved hand up to your chin, holding your face in one hand while he secures his other arm snugly around your waist. You are grateful that he is holding you so tightly. Without his strong arms, you are unconvinced whether you could remain vertical.

“Oh, cyare," Din exhales, his voice trembling under the weight of his emotions. "I was so worried when I saw the body down there. What in Maker’s name happened here?” Din asks, deep voice full of concern.

“I heard footsteps that I assumed were yours, but when I got there, the door opened. You weren't there, Din. I was so scared," you confess, your voice trembling too.

"Dank farrik!" Din harshly exclaims. You startle in response, and he tightens his hold around you, bringing your chest flush to the cold metal of his armour, before apologetically adding, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, Din," you whisper in reassurance.

"Forgive me for my outburst. I was just frustrated that I couldn't be there for you. The same group, I assume, ambushed me. It took me a while to fight them off. I should have been here," Din shakes his head, "Anyway, do you want to tell me about what happened?"

You nod, your bottom lip trembling. You take some breaths to steady your nerves as you try your best to ignore your reflection in Din's helmet. If you pause for too long and perceive how fragile and broken you appear, you know you will crumble entirely.

"Well, I stepped up to the top of the ramp expecting to see you. Instead, that man was standing there. He held a blaster up at me. I was so scared that he was going to shoot," you squeak, voice barely above a whisper now. Din moves his hands up and down your back in soothing motions, comforting you enough to continue: "I managed to distract him enough to retreat with my hands up. Then I pretended to stumble and push the button on the control panel, which discharged the pressurised gas. It gave me the cover to grab your blaster on the workbench. And then, well, you saw...” you squeak out as you feel hot tears trail down your cheeks.

You permit yourself to fall apart now, knowing that Din is here to pick your pieces up and place you back together. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. A smile ghosts across your lips at the sensation of the buttery texture against your skin.

“You did so well, cyare,” Din whispers. "I promise you, you're safe now. No one will hurt you," he adds soothingly.

Din brings your head into his cowl. He gathers you to him and protects you from the anguish. From this position, you can faintly feel the warmth which emanates from the man beneath the beskar through the coarse yet soft material. The dark brown material is a sharp contrast to the hard, coldness of his armour, a sliver of humanity amongst the many facets of the formidable Mandalorian warrior. You never feel safer or more protected than when Din takes you into his arms and holds you close. The relief is immediate, but it does not stop the emotional outburst. Tears continue to stream down your face.

“I was so scared Din,” you manage out between the sobs that have suddenly overwhelmed your fragile state of mind.

“I know, I know. But I’m so proud of you,” Din says.

His ordinarily steady voice trembles with emotion except when he emphasises how proud he is of you. To know that Din Djarin himself is proud of you makes your chest ache with joy. You have made this strong, stoic warrior proud. It makes your head swim with glee. Yet, it only adds to the myriad of emotions which overwhelm your trembling body.

Din holds you close, but you cannot stop crying. The embarrassment you feel at your outburst further contributes to your distress. The tears flow in earnest now, Din’s cowl surely becoming damp with the moisture that has escaped your swollen, irritated eyes.

“Shhhhh my love, ner kar'ta,” Din soothes as he rocks you, “You’re safe now. I've got you. You’re safe.”

With his comforting words and the way Din holds you, your sniffles eventually subside. Still, Din holds you until you can barely stand anymore.

When you can stand no longer, when your body finally succumbs to the emotional toll of the day, Din is there to coax you into moving. Somehow,

Din manages to skillfully manoeuvre you into descending the ladder. You are too tired to question quite how it happens. The next thing you know, you are tucked up in the bunk. There is barely enough room for Din, yet he manages to lie beside you, holding you until you drift off.

Finally, you allow yourself to fall into the warm embrace of sleep…

✯✯✯

You remain confined to your bunk for most of the return trip to Nevarro. The skirmish took its toll on you. In your lethargicness, you struggle to have the energy to do anything other than sleep. Din is patient and attentive with you, taking care of all the maintenance jobs and meal preparation that you usually assist with.

Yet, it is not just the stress of events and the inescapable fact that you have claimed your first life which weighs on your mind. It is trying to figure out what the future looks like for you and Din.

You have never met anyone like him. He is intelligent, caring and skilled in anything he turns his hand to. He provides for you. Since you began travelling together, you have wanted for nothing physically or spiritually. Din is diligent and attentive, always on hand to pick you up if things prove too much. He makes you laugh like you never have with anyone else you have met. Until your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning. You think of the hours spent together sitting in the red chairs of the cockpit as the blues and silvers of hyperspace streak outside the windows, illuminating Din's armour in a way that leaves you mesmerised.

When you first started travelling with Din, you were sceptical that you would ever grow close to a man who kept so much of himself a mystery. His face was hidden behind a helmet and you knew him only as Mando. How could you ever form a bond with someone so elusive?

Now, you understand that you do not need to see a person's face to know them entirely. There is no doubt that you completely understand who the man underneath the beskar is. You trust Din Djarin with everything you have.

Although it took him long enough to honour you with knowing that name, now you speak it often. While he vows that he will know yours eternally, for it is the Mandalorian way to say, “I love you.”

You cannot imagine your life without him.

However, as much as you care for Din and are certain he cares for you in return, you know you will never have what it takes to become Mandalorian. It is why you have held back from your feelings, never permitting yourself to return the sweet words and affectionate nicknames. Your destinies lie in opposite directions. You will never be truly worthy of his love.

It is a thought that leaves you thoroughly despondent as you lie in the bunk. If you are this distressed after taking a life in self-defence, how would you ever be able to participate in his culture, his identity, which is so dear to him?

Without that fighting spirit within you, you are sure you would never be able to be Mandalorian. Without being Mandalorian, it will be impossible for Din to build a life with you.

Whatever relationship the two of you have is more than likely fleeting. You will part when it becomes apparent that you are too fundamentally different to prove a compatible pairing. You know that.

Yet, it does not stop the melancholia that such a fact provokes in you.

You understand that one day, Din Djarin will leave your life.

Knowing that evidence of your fundamentally opposing ways of life will become evident once more shortly leaves you inconsolable. Once the Razor Crest lands in Nevarro so the bounties can be offloaded Din will leave you alone for an indeterminate amount of time to be with his covert.

Since you are not Mandalorian, you are forbidden from joining him.

The thought of not being with him devastates you. Yet, the prospect of being alone on a planet without Din downright terrifies you after your brush with death.

Although you are frightened, you are determined not to let him see your discomfort.

After all, it would be unfair of you to hold Din back from spending time with his tribe.

You know you will never be able to join him, yet you still respect Din's creed. You admire his devotion to his Way. You do not judge him for it, even if you are baffled by some rules Din must adhere to.

Yet, there is another reason you keep your emotions to yourself.

You do not want to worry Din any further.

Following your brush with death, Din has been fussing over you so much that you almost feel smothered. He is watching you intently to check that the fact you have taken another’s life does not leave a scar on you. He constantly reassures you that it was self-defence and that you did the right thing. When you wake up screaming after terrible visions haunt you, Din is there in an instant to soothe your anguished soul.

Even though you are grateful for how much he cares, you want to be left alone. You feel guilty, as though you are a burden to him. Here you are, taking up so much of his precious time and energy when you are not even a member of his tribe.

So, when Din informs you he will depart the Razor Crest to join up with his covert after the old ship finally touches down on Nevarro, you are glad to see him go.

Even if being on such a skughole makes you unsettled. You wish that you had Din’s comforting presence around to soothe your soul. But non-Mandalorians are not permitted to enter the covert’s hideout, and you respect that rule.

So, you are alone.

You pass the time polishing and reordering Din's assortment of weapons so they are exactly how he likes him upon his return. It is penance for the tremendous amount of extra effort he exerted in taking care of you during your journey here.

After you finish cleaning Din's most prized possessions, you stand before the weapons locker, adjusting each blaster and rifle until they are arrow straight. Din is fastidious when it comes to organising his armoury. You want to please him.

It is a task that you are still engaged in when you hear the ramp whirring. The noise makes you panic initially. Until, for your benefit, Din calls your name to reassure you that it is him returning; no one is here to harm you.

Your initial anxiety is soothed instantly by the sound of his deep voice. The apprehension is replaced by a smile at the way the syllables of your name warble through his vocoder.

You hastily close the doors to the locker. You weren't quite finished with your task yet. You do not want Din to catch a glimpse before everything is perfect.

"You're back quicker than I expected," you observe, greeting him with a look of surprise across your features.

"There was only one matter I wished to settle," Din shrugs.

"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows, wondering if it is connected to the drawstring pouch made of dark material he carries in one hand.

"Concerning you," Din simply says.

You are rendered speechless. Your initial concern is that Din has confessed to travelling with a non-Mandalorian. Perhaps it is forbidden for his tribe to befriend outsiders. Your stomach drops as you panic that Din has been forced to leave his covert in disgrace.

What if, after the skirmish, Din decided to leave you behind here on Nevarro and simply needed to ask his tribe's leader for advice so his nerves did not waver?

Your frantic train of thought halts at the thuds of Din's footsteps approaching you. Mercifully, it seems you are about to discover the nature of their conversation.

"I have something for you," Din explains as he reaches into the drawstring pouch and produces a shiny object attached to a string.

You are curious about the mysterious relic before you. You do not hesitate to reach your hand out, your palm up, ready to accept it. It glints in mid-air before Din places it into your palm.

The sensation of the cool metal of the mysterious object

proves to be an intriguing yet comforting presence in your hand. It soothes you instantly. It is a grounding sensation you badly need. Especially after the dark places your mind has wandered to. Terrible visions and eventualities your imagination has frequented a lot recently since your brush with death.

You realise now that it is in your hand that Din has brought you a necklace. Peculiar. You wonder what in the galaxy an item of jewellery could have to do with his covert.

The metallic pendant is a shape you do not recognise; there is a long, thin strand of dark brown leather attached to the charm.

“Do you know what this is?” Din finally asks after he has left you alone to survey your gift.

You shake your head, looking up at him questioningly.

“This is the Mythosaur, an ancient creature our ancestors once rode. It is a symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din explains, gesturing a gloved fingertip at the shiny object.

You see now that the metallic outline appears to be the skull of a creature you have never heard before. With its sunken black eye sockets and intimidating, sharp features; the Mythosaur is a little intimidating. Still, you are mesmerised by its pointy teeth and long tusks. It is quite unlike anything you have ever seen. You run your thumb over the ridges, enjoying the sensation of the metal in your hand.

"I had it forged by my tribe's Armorer from the excess beskar of my new armour," Din explains, "The chain is taken from a strip of my bandolier, too."

"The craftsmanship..." you whisper, awestruck, "It's beautiful."

Then, Din says something which catches you completely off-guard.

“I want you to be part of my Clan, cyare,” Din announces.

Your mouth falls open. You look up at Din, stunned at his declaration. He does not want to leave you behind or cast you out. He wants you to be with him forever. You begin to feel the rumbling of tears somewhere deep inside your gut. You almost allow yourself to smile.

Almost.

Your moment of happiness shatters when you realise joining Din's Clan likely comes with an expectation to be Mandalorian. You hope the necklace does not come with the assumption of committing yourself to something you remain unsure that you want for yourself.

Yet bringing that up to Din would surely disappoint him, a terrible prospect. His Way is of utmost importance to him.

“But, Din… I’m not Mandalorian,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as you remind him of your differences.

“It doesn’t matter,” Din shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" you breathe, stunned.

"I'm positive, cyare. You can take this necklace to any Mandalorian and say my name. If you present this to a Mandalorian covert and tell them Din Djarin set you, they will ensure you are protected and safe for as long as you need. No matter where you are in the galaxy.”

“Even though I’m not Mandalorian?” you whisper, astonished.

“Yes. One does not have to walk The Way in order to be protected by us," Din nods.

You are stunned. For so long, you had mistaken Mandalorian covertness for exclusion. You had believed they disliked and distrusted anyone who did not follow their way of life. Now you realise that you had entirely misconstrued their seclusion. Mandalorians, it transpires, are fiercely protective over anyone they care about, an honour not restricted to their own kind.

"After what happened, I want to feel reassured by knowing that you would have somewhere to turn to for refuge if something like that were ever to happen again. More than that, I want you…” Din sighs, steadying himself. “I want you to be part of my Clan,” he adds, his voice full of certainty.

“I couldn't possibly be worthy of such a thing,” you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, "I shot one nerfherder in self-defence and look at the toll it took on me," you scoff, fiddling with the necklace and avoiding Din's gaze.

Din is unsatisfied with your words. He brings his hand to your chin and tilts it upwards until your eyes are level with the steely gaze of his dark T-visor.

“You are absolutely worthy,” Din adds with finality and certainty in his voice that causes your chest to constrict, “You have shown as much fight and resolve as any Mandalorian warrior would be proud of. You may not be Mandalorian, but you have our spirit. Our manda, our soul. You do not have to be Mandalorian to be loved by one. So, it would be the honour of my life if you would join my Clan, cyare,” Din adds solemnly.

He takes his hand from under your chin and balls it into a fist. Then he raises his clenched fist to his chestplate and holds it over his heart. He bows his head in your direction, wordlessly demonstrating his affection for you.

With his beautiful words and deferent actions, how could you refuse such an offer?

“Then, I will happily join your clan, Din Djarin,” you whisper.

You watch with curiosity as Din takes the necklace from your hand. Then, he softly places a gloved hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You realise what he is doing when the pendant slides down over your chest. You smile as you feel the cool metal make contact with your skin through the cloth of the simple clothes you wear. The thin leather is a comforting presence around your neck, especially when combined with the weight of the Mythosaur.

You turn around to face Din once again. You are unable to prevent the grin that spreads across your features. For the first time since that terrifying encounter with that ghastly man, you feel a true sense of tranquillity. You no longer find yourself plagued by fear for the future.

You realise that you should probably make some profound speech of gratitude. Instead, you sigh in contentment as you stand before Din. You are too happy to find words, perfectly content merely to stand before the man you adore. A man whom, thanks to the necklace you wear around your neck, you are now bound to.

Din brings his hands to your sides, resting them against your body as his thumbs rub fond circles into your hips. There is no fear, no uncertainty anymore.

The future for you and Din is bright.

Din eventually sighs fondly, cupping your chin with his gloved hand.

“It suits you,” he nods in approval.

You smile at the gesture and turn your lips into his fingers, placing a kiss on the soft leather there. Then, Din brings your forehead to his helmet in a gesture he has assured you is akin to a kiss in his eyes. For now, at least, it is the only way he can kiss you.

You stay like that for a few moments.

Eventually, Din's deep voice breaks the silence.

“Ner aliit,” Din whispers. Then adds in basic, for the benefit of your ears:

“My family.”

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #i had a blast writing this on the whole even if getting it juuuuust right did at times make me want to tear my arms off #and beat myself to death with them #but no like honestly writing is so fun!!!!!!!!!#anyway hope i succeeded and you enjoyed this one!!!!

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skyloftian-nutcase · 9 months ago

Text

The Pirate (Dad Squad)

EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!

Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.

Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.

Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.

Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.

A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.

What in the world...?

The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."

"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"

The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"

Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"

"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.

"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"

The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"

Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.

"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."

The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.

Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"

"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"

The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"

Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.

"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"

"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"

Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.

Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."

Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"

Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."

Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"

"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."

The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.

"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.

The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."

"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."

"It is my title," Fierce clarified.

"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"

This man talked entirely too much.

"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.

"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."

"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.

"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.

Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"

Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.

Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.

And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.

Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.

Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.

The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.

Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.

Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."

"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--

"Intruders!!"

Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.

"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.

Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.

"Did--did he just--"

"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.

Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?

Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"

"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.

"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.

"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.

The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.

He nocked another arrow.

"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."

Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.

Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."

Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.

There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--

Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"

I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."

As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"

Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.

Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.

Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"

"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."

Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.

There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.

"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"

"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."

Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."

"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"

Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"

Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."

Link?!

No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--

Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.

"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."

"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."

The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.

"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."

Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"

"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.

Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.

Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.

Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."

"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.

"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."

At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."

"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"

Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."

Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.

Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.

At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.

Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.

Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.

They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.

Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.

Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.

Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.

He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.

Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.

Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."

Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."

"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.

Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.

It was official. He despised sailing.

But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."

The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.

Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."

Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.

"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.

Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."

If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.

The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.

"How did Link become part of your crew?"

"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."

Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.

"He's a good kid."

Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."

Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"

Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."

"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"

"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.

Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.

Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.

But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.

Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"

Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"

He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"

"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.

"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."

Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."

Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."

The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."

"The--the what side?"

"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"

The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"

Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.

Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.

Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"

Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.

When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.

Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.

"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.

Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."

At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.

At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.

Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."

Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.

"Link!"

Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.

Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.

The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.

Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.

And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.

"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"

The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."

Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.

Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"

Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"

Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"

Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."

Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."

"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.

"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.

Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."

The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."

With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."

Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.

"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"

"Of course it is, I stole it!"

"But then why is your ship over there?"

"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"

"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"

"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.

Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."

With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.

#Tetra and Ciela were with Aryll and Grandma because there are only so many characters I can write that I don't know much about lol #I feel like Rusl might get annoyed with Linebeck occasionally but overall can see right through his little act #Abel on the other hand... whether he can tell it's an act or not he'd drive him nuts LOL #Fierce is just like “he isn't a threat and he's helping me so ok”#I feel like if Linebeck had stuck around and become a permanent member of the squad Fierce would've eventually inadvertently called him out #Fierce: Why do you choose to hide your concern and care behind meaningless words and bolstering bravado? Does it make you feel powerful?#Linebeck: *spluttering*#anyway Linebeck is an excellent sailor thank you for coming to my tedtalk #no matter how goofy or immature or cowardly he is this man is king of the seas and even Abel can respect that #Let Linebeck Be Cool 2024 #and then let him be a goof again lol #this was SO much fun to write oh my gosh #sorry it took a while to write but here it is :)#hope y'all enjoy <3 #also hope Linebeck feels right #Dad Squad #abel #rusl #fierce dadity #linebeck #phantom hourglass #legend of zelda #writing

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leonardalphachurch · 16 days ago

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@redvsbluesecretsanta for @eyeaball!

they asked for something with donut, or with kai and caboose being friends, so i kinda melded those together into this, and then the rest of blue team wanted to participate…

the formatting for this was done using @sabotourist's chatlog formatting code! ty again so much raven for helping with troubleshooting! i know usually i like to put my writing both on here and on ao3 so ppl can choose where to read it but bc of the formatting this can only be read on ao3.

#rvb secret santa #red vs blue secret santa 2024 #frankin donut #michael caboose #kaikaina grif #rvb #chromatic writing #its still the 26th in some places okay. im on time.#i saved all the editing and code stuff until right before i was uploading it. which should have been fine. two days is more than enough tim #except for the fact that yesterday i had a fever of over 100 and my throat is so sore and swollen i can hardly speak...........#and now i have to switch with chi so he can put the finishing touches on his piece and upload it..... lol.......................#its my fault for procastinating but without being sick it really would have taken me like 2 hours tops. oh well.#anyway i hope you enjoy it was fun to write. i LOVE trying to nail down characters texting voices #i hope they come through #you know me i could go on and on about the decisions i make in my writing lol

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cuz-reasons · 2 months ago

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Summary: Emmet visits his brother's grave.

Guess what time it is!

#submas #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #this is the chapter that made me do twice a week updates due to the fact its posting falls so close to hallowen #it felt too good to pass up #esp when i basically had the whole thing written out when i started posting it #honestly this is one of my fave things ive written in a bit #i love everything ive posted but this one has been a lot of fun to write and post #anyways #hope you enjoy!#forgotten beneath the subway seats

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henwilsonmd · 2 years ago

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post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

read on ao3

Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

#I'M BACK BABY #ofc i HAD to write a coda for this one come on #if this gets interaction i'll probably post on ao3 bc it's pretty long so i'll come back and edit this post if that's the case #anyway i have a LOT of wips that i'm planning on finishing and i want to be more active on here/make some friends #so drop a follow if you want to see any of that lol #anyway this was just a fun little thing that i hope y'all enjoy!#911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 6x18 #911 6x18 coda #writing #drabbles #even though it's not really a drabble i want it with the rest of my codas #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 21 days ago

Text

the needle gathering dust

hi! this is my gift for @swiftiefirefighters as part of the @buddietommydaily gift exchange :)! I had fun with this silly idea - and it kind of got away from me. Sorry to drag it on, but there will be a second (hopefully not a third) chapter in a few days lol. Tommy wanted to keep running into his loves instead of moving the plot forward, so here we are lol.

I hope you enjoy!

(title from Blues for Almost Forgotten Music by Roxane Beth Johnson)

“Agent 21! It’s been too long.”

Tommy sighed. Not again.

Sure enough, when he turned around, there stood Agent 115 and Agent 105. Matching suits, matching “hidden” guns, and matching cocky grins. Tommy was waiting for the day Agent 105 came in with scar matching Agent 115’s. Agent 115, who had spoken, had a key in his hand – that must’ve been how they got into the room. Tommy had double checked that the door was locked, but it didn’t matter when your opponents had keys.

“15, 05,” he responded dryly. “It’s been two weeks.”

Agent 115 looked deeply offended.

“He can’t even say the first digit,” he said mournfully. “Our poor ‘1’s.”

Agent 105 nodded, then added: “And two weeks is a long time for us.”

Tommy sighed again. They were almost always on the same missions as him, somehow. Half the time it didn’t even seem like something the A.A.H. would be interested in, given that they mainly focused on information over technology. Yet here they were.

“Listen, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tommy said, not able to stop the exasperation from bleeding into his voice. “All I need is the crystal.”

Agent 115 grimaced and Agent 105 sucked in a breath.

“Unfortunately,” said the former. “That’s what we’re here for, too.”

Agent 105 nodded.

“We could always team up to get it,” continued Agent 115, a hopeful smile on his face.

Tommy blinked.

“There’s one crystal.”

“He’s got a point,” Agent 105 said quietly. Tommy started edging towards the other door as they whispered a few things to each other. They were like an old married couple – half the time, Tommy wondered if they were one. But hey – if it distracted them, it was all the better for him. Just a few more feet. . .

A shot sounded, and a metallic bang. Tommy dropped to the ground automatically, but no other shots came. He looked back at the door, only to see the handle blown off to who knows where. He growled in frustration as he turned his gaze back to the agents.

“Sorry, 21,” Agent 105 said, and he almost sounded regretful. “We can’t let you do that.”

“Seriously?” groused Tommy. These guys couldn’t mind their own business. He rolled to the side and hopped to his feet before tossing a charge at the door, then drew his own gun while waiting for the door. It never paid to be overly trusting with the A.A.H., especially with Agents 115 and 105. They always managed to cause trouble. Within seconds, both of their guns were out as well.

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” Agent 115 joked with a smile. That’s what they thought.

The door blew. A few small pieces of metal went flying, but luckily his aim was true – most of the door was still intact. The other agents stumbled away from the direction of the smoking door, but Tommy jumped towards it, kicking what was left of it in.

“T-” whichever one of them was speaking cut off with a small cough. “Agent 21, wait!”

He considered tossing a teasing reply back at them, but he didn’t have time. He had to get to that crystal before they got their wits about them (and apparently, their lungs – it really wasn’t that much smoke).

Still, a small smirk graced his face.

“Agents, what can I do for you?” Tommy asked dryly.

The two men startled just slightly, before whipping around to face him. Smiles lit up their faces – yugh, they were unbearable.

“Agent!” Agent 105 greeted. “We’re just browsing. How are you this fine afternoon?”

“It’s 9 P.M.”

“And?” asked Agent 115.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I’d be better if you weren’t trying to steal my score, again.”

“There’s no way we didn’t get our assignment first,” Agent 115 argued. “Tw-” Agent 105 elbowed him in the side.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that,” the former finished. Tommy fought back a smile. If he had to have nemeses, at least they were kind of idiots (and just a little funny, but you’d never catch him admitting that). It certainly helped make up for the annoyance they caused while trying to do his job.

“Step away from the computers,” he said, serious now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That wasn’t entirely true; he did want to punch them sometimes, and– well, oddly enough, that was about it. Nothing else. The thought made something deep inside his brain squirm, which was decidedly not comfortable, so he brushed it aside. He couldn’t be distracted while in the field, even just for a split second. He refocused on the agents in front of him.

And they—they had a look, something between wan and heartbroken. Tommy frowned just slightly.

“We know,” Agent 105 said softly.

What?

But then smiles slid back onto their faces, eyes shuttered, and the moment was gone. That was also decidedly uncomfortable.

“How kind of you,” Agent 115 said cheerily.

“But, we’re just about done here,” Agent 105 completed. “So–”

Tommy drew his gun and shot one of the laptops they had set up. Both A.A.H. Agents jumped and ducked away from the shrapnel.

“Seriously?” complained Agent 115.

“Couldn’t let you get away with everything,” Tommy replied, gun trained on them.

Before anyone else could speak, the other agents’ watches started blinking. They both glanced down (now, now, he could take them out right now), then looked back up at him. There was something in Agent 115’s eyes as Agent 105 started collecting their other equipment.

“Well, looks like our visit’s going to have to be cut short,” 115 said with a fake frown. The smile quickly took over his face again as Agent 105 tapped him on the shoulder, equipment packed up.

Agent 115 nodded to 105, then to Tommy. He grabbed a rope that was laying on the floor, leading to– the window. Of course. The other end was attached to the sill. With a mock salute, he jumped out the window.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Agent 105 said, before following his partner.

Tommy lowered his gun and sighed. That uncomfortable moment was still sitting in his shoulders, tension he hadn’t yet shaken. But he could still get at least some information from this mission. He holstered his gun and started plugging his own devices into the computers, trying to roll out his shoulders as he did.

But somewhere deep in his chest, past the harsh feeling, some part of him couldn’t help but feel comforted.

“I just keep running into them on missions,” complained Tommy. “It’s like we have a rivalry that I don’t know about!”

Lucy laughed. “Do you know how many people would kill for a nemesis, let alone two?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and picked at his salad. It was dumb.

Lucy closed the cupboard and turned back to him as she set her plate on the counter. She started dishing herself lasagna as she spoke.

“And look at you. Here you are, complaining about them. They’ve been your rivals for a while now.”

And they. They had—

“Okay, sure,” Tommy acknowledged. “But it still feels like they’re way more invested in it than I am.”

Lucy shrugged, rolling the foil back over the pan.

“I think A.A.H. agents are just extra like that,” she said as she put the lasagna back in the oven.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

“What does A.A.H. even stand for?” asked Melton, entering the kitchen. There was a coffee cup in his hand and a tired look on his face – which made sense, given that Tommy was pretty sure he’d just gotten off of a 24 hour stakeout.

“It doesn’t stand for anything,” Lucy answered, sounding exasperated. Tommy hid a smile. Melton had definitely asked this before (though again: 24 hour stakeout). “It’s a designation number.”

“Ohh, right,” Melton said. A look of understanding lit up his face, and then something more sheepish. “I’ve asked that like, four times, haven’t I?”

“Six,” Tommy cut in as he stabbed a few pieces of lettuce. He ducked the coffee packet that went soaring at him with a laugh.

“In my defense, I’m always the one on stakeouts,” Melton said with mock-offense. Probably.

“Not our fault the boss hates you,” Lucy joked, taking a seat at the edge of the island.

“Hey, I like stakeouts! At least I’m not diffusing bombs all the time. It’s like they want you to blow up,” shot back the other man.

Tommy just watched as the other two bickered, smiling into his salad.

Tommy swung his gun to 115.

“There’s no need for us to be stupid about this,” the other man said.

“I’m not the one who said ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be a good idea to call the police?!’” Tommy practically shouted.

“Okay, well– ah, yes. But,” 115 stuttered.

Tommy switched his aim back to 105, and he could see both of their guns shift slightly.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” 115 finished exasperatedly.

“But you did do it.”

“You’re on his side?”

Tommy let them argue for a moment as he tried to figure out a way out of this. They couldn’t have more than 5 minutes before the police got here, and they couldn’t stand here in a stalemate forever. It would take at least 2 of those to even get out of the building, let alone find the ID he was looking for. He growled in frustration.

“You triggered the alarm,” he interrupted, gun swinging back to 115. They stopped arguing to retrain their weapons on him and he rolled his eyes.

“Only because he pushed me,” 115 said. Tommy went back to 105, and they followed him.

“To keep you from hitting your head on the fire extinguisher!” 105 shot back. Tommy switched again. They followed.

“How are any of us supposed to do this now?” Tommy said, and turned his gun back on 105. 115 and 105 turned their guns towards each other.

Tommy blinked.

“Wait,” 115 said.

Tommy started laughing, the stress combining with the absurdity of the situation.

“Okay, okay, stop!” 105 shouted. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. Can we all just put our guns away?”

Still laughing, Tommy clipped his gun back into its holster. He paused, surprised. Not only was he laughing, he actually put his gun down. Just because 105 said so. Hm. He didn’t like that.

Tommy cleared his throat and composed his face again. The other two sighed as they holstered their own weapons.

“Now,” 105 continued. “We have–” he moved to check his watch, but 115 interrupted with “Four”.

“--Four minutes before the police get here,” finished 105.

“Not enough time to get the folder,” 115 added.

“So you’re proposing we. . .” Tommy trailed off. Wait. What? He was sent to get the ID of an employee in this building.

“The folder?” he asked.

Both agents turned to him, confused looks on their faces. “Yeah?” 115 said. It took another second for them to both freeze.

“You’re here for something else?” 105 asked. His face was pale, his eyes were wide.

Tommy shouldn’t have said anything. He could’ve let them believe he was here for whatever the folder was and they wouldn’t suspect anything with the ID. But, it did tell him that they had no idea he was looking for something else. Which meant that the A.A.H. was farther off than they had thought.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here,” he said brusquely. “No one’s getting what they want.”

115 and 105 were still looking at him as he made sure all of his equipment was secure. There was something in their eyes again.

“What?” Tommy asked gruffly.

There was a moment of silence where they were just staring at each other. The alarm had stopped ringing shortly after 115 triggered it, and without their voices there was nothing but the hum of the air conditioning. No one moved.

Distantly, sirens faded in. Tommy shook himself out of the staring contest, and Agent 105 spoke.

“Nothing,” he said, just softer than a normal speaking volume.

Tommy didn’t have time to figure that out. He turned, offering an annoyed half wave to the other agents, and started running back the way he came. Luckily, they’d gotten in different ways. Their paths collided in that room, but otherwise, they didn’t cross. He could just get out of here. And, luckily, two more lefts and he was.

He skidded around the second to last corner, ready to– camera. It took a few more steps to come to a stop, but by the time he had, his gun was out. Crack. Luckily, his silencer was on, so it was more of a slap than a full volume gun shot. The camera flopped, attached to its body by a straining handful of wires. Tommy didn’t even bother putting his gun away before he started running again. It took him a few tries while running and not looking at it, but he managed to get it clipped back into place as he made the last turn.

Right before his hand was on the fire escape door, another alarm started blaring. It sounded different from the one 115 had triggered (which still had blinking red lights going off along the top of the wall every few yards). Uh oh. Tommy swore he could hear footsteps and yelling, but he was so far from the main entrance it probably wasn’t possible. Ignoring it, he pushed open the fire escape (he’d cut the alarm wires on his way in) and burst out into the sunlight.

Lucy kicked the burnt. . . something lightly. Tommy thought it looked like a computer, but he honestly wasn’t sure.

The place was crawling with B.A.G. agents. Floodlights were being set up, items were being bagged, burnt and crushed items were being studied. It was a flurry of activity, but Tommy could still see what happened here.

“This was definitely them,” he said. Lucy looked up from the wreckage in front of her.

“Who?” she asked with a small frown.

“Agent 115 and 105,” Tommy answered, crossing his arms. He nodded towards the pile of burnt items. “I’ve seen them do that.”

Lucy blinked at him. What?

Eventually, she said: “Okay, Mr. Nemesis. I don’t even know how they would’ve done this, though.”

“They have an explosive that reacts to the coolant inside computers,” Tommy supplied immediately.

How did he know that?

Lucy stared at him again.

“How do you know that?” she asked incredulously.

The question of the hour. Had they mentioned it? Had he seen plans for it, even on a mission they weren’t on? He– Tommy had no idea.

He swallowed. “I heard them mention it.”

Lucy snorted as she looked back down at the (presumably electronic) remains.

“Your nemeses have big mouths,” she said.

Yeah, sure. He was pretty sure he was the one with the big mouth.

“They were gloating,” Tommy answered numbly.

“I guess. Still kind of dumb,” the other agent said. She shrugged. “But, it doesn’t matter. It’ll all get tested and we’ll figure it out. We’re B.A.G.”

Maybe it would be better if they didn’t. Then it wouldn’t prove Tommy right.

Tommy nodded, but couldn’t get his vocal cords to work.

Lucy walked away towards a group of lab techs, and Tommy just stared after her.

“Can you pass me the blue?”

Tommy smiled. He always used blue, in any craft.

“Here,” he said, just a hint of teasing in his voice. There was a small laugh from behind him, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“You two need to stop ganging up on me,” he said with mock annoyance.

Tommy has to physically restrain himself from making an innuendo as he turns back to his own work. Evan does take the blue, though.

“Never will,” Eddie responds. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Yep,” Tommy confirms, glancing back at Evan. The love in the other man’s eyes nearly takes his breath away. Even through the joking, and even after this long, it still leaves him speechless.

“Good,” Evan says after a moment, a smile on his face.

Tommy woke up to darkness and a beating heart.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, like the time he fell out of a second story window. There was a memory, of stark clarity and yet impossible to describe. A dream. Of a—a house, or a kitchen, or maybe just a weird realm of light. And something in his hands. A mix between a paintbrush and a pen, and maybe sandpaper. There was a person to his left, that he couldn’t see, and a person to his right, that was—Lucy, maybe. Or Derrick from accounting, or an A.A.H. agent he met once, or a mix of all three. And his chest was on fire but his hands were freezing. It didn’t make any sense.

But now his chest was tight. His shoulders too. There was sweat on his back, and his legs, and it was too warm and that must’ve been a nightmare, because he now felt terrified. There was a pinprick ache in his temples, like he was grinding his teeth.

And nothing made sense.

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