#but after one bad fall that scares his children to tears and prompts a fair amount of cuddles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

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I LOVE ur blog SO MUCH!!!

Thanku fr Writing amazing hcs!! Keep it up!!!

If you don't mind...

(Kuroko no baske)

Thanku so much!! Lots of love xoxo

(reader insert may not be necessary!😉)

Awwww!! Thank you!! I’m glad you enjoy and appreciate them ( ´ω` ). Went a little off the rails with this as I was feeling inspired and did full scenarios. I hope that’s ok!

GOM Boys + Sending their kids to school (prompt)

Akashi

“Why don’t you want to go to school?” Akashi asked, holding his son’s hand, as they arrived at the building.

His son, looking positively adorable in his little blazer & tie, looked up at him with big, bright, golden eyes before looking back down. “I don’t want to go.” He repeated quietly. “It’s scary.”

“Scary? How is it scary?” Akashi asked. “You were fine when we did the tour the other day. It’s just like that.”

“But you won’t be with me Papa.” He replied in a soft voice. Worrying his bottom lip and eyes starting to get very wet. “I’ll be all alone.”

Akashi sighed as his son began to sniffle and knelt down in front of him. “Stop crying. Akashi men don’t cry over things like this.” He pulled out his handkerchief to clean the few tears that had fallen. His son giving a small hiccup as he stopped crying. Then Akashi smiled at him. “You won’t be alone. You’ll have a whole room of classmates to keep you company. I was like you when I was little. I was scared I wouldn’t make any friends, or that the other students would hate me. But that didn’t happen. I made friends. I got to spend time with people outside of the house. Uncle Kuroko and Mama were all people I met at school. Don’t you want to make friends like that?”

His son beamed and nodded once before looping his arms around Akashi’s neck to hug him. They then finish walking into school and dropping him off at class. He then walked back to his car alone. Sliding into the back seat when the driver opened the door for him.

“Shall we head to the office now sir?”

“In a minute,” Akashi replied. Leaning back in his seat to rest his head back against the rich leather. A hand over his eyes. “Circle the block a few times. I don’t want to leave them alone just yet.”

Aomine

“Hn? You don’t want to go to school now?” Aomine asked as son stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Digging his heels in about not wanting to take one step further. “But you have to go to school.”

“No I don’t! And you can’t make me!” The mini-Aomine yelled back. His father sighed.

“Yes, you do. It’s the law and, I would know, I’m a cop.” He pointed his thumb to himself, wearing his uniform, as this was supposed to be a quick drop off before he went in for his shift. “Do you want me to arrest you on your first day of school?”

“You wouldn’t do that!” The little boy replied. All bravado like his father, before his shoulders sank and his bottom lip stuck out. “I don’t want to go. School is boring. And what if the kids are mean to me. I’d rather stay home with Daddy….”

Aomine sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He couldn’t really argue with the school being boring part. He hated school when he was a kid, but he had to go. “Listen, Daddy can’t stay home with you today because he has to go to work. And you can’t come to work with me because, if you do, we’ll catch all the bad guys and then what will I do for work the next day.” The mini-Aomine snickered.

Aomine then leaned down to get eye level with his son. “I’m sure the kids will be nice. There’s bound to be one good egg in the bunch. Maybe you can even find someone to play basketball with.” His son’s eyes sparkled at that. “But, if any kids are mean to you, you tell me and I’ll come back and arrest them.” He held out his handcuffs to make a point. “Sound good?”

His son giggled again and told him, “deal!” before they both walk into the school for drop off. Thankfully, no one at the school was arrested that day. School was his son’s new favorite place. At least for now anyway.

Kise

“Are you sure they have to go now? Maybe we could keep them home for another year??”

“Ryo….” His significant other warned as they got their daughter up to the school, each holding one of her hands, for drop off.

“Don’t worry Daddy! I’ll be fine!” The little girl chirped. Practically skipping the whole way there she was so excited.

“Really? Are you sure princess? Because, if you want to start school tomorrow, Daddy would be totally fine with that.”

“Ryouta!”

“No, that’s ok Daddy.” She replied with a big grin. “I want to go and make new friends! I’m excited to show everyone my new dress you got me.” His princess did a little modeling twirl they had practiced, and Kise’s heart broke into a thousand pieces only to be reformed instantly again with love. “I’m gonna go inside now. See you after school!”

“Do you want Daddy to walk you to your classroom?!”

“No!” His daughter called back. Unaware she had just stomped on her father’s newly reformed heart.

“They grow up so fast….”

“Honestly Ryouta.” His s/o said, shaking their head, as they offered him a tissue. “It’s the kids that are usually crying on the first day. Not the parents.”

Kuroko

“Sweetheart….you have to go to school.” Kuroko tried to reason with his daughter, who was holding her backpack and her breath until Kuroko ‘gave up’.

Of course, she couldn’t hold it that long in the end. Her lungs were very small.

She let out a gasp of air, quickly inhaling new breath into her lungs as fast as she could fill them, but still pouted. “Why can’t you be my teacher Papa?!”

“Because,” Kuroko reasoned, as if they haven’t been over this a hundred times, “you need to have someone else be your teacher. It’s not fair to have Papa be your teacher.”

“But it’s not fair that other kids have Papa for their teacher!” She argued back. “I don’t want to go if I can’t see Papa and have to share him….”

Kuroko sighed before offering them a smile. “We’ll still be at the same school. So I’ll see you at lunch time or on the playground. Ms. Himora is really nice too. You’ll like being in her class. I’ve told her all about you and she’s excited to see your drawings.”

His daughter perked up at that. Art and drawing being one of her passions.

She agreed to go, but only on the condition that she wanted to see this other teacher’s art supplies. Ms. Himora of course showed them to her, and let her color the whole afternoon. Kuroko tried not to seem irritated that by the end of the day his little girl was calling her her favorite teacher.

Midorima

“Do you have your notebook?” Midorima asked as he walked his son to school. “Pens? Paper? Pencil?”

“Yes Dad…” His son replied sullenly, walking beside the taller green haired man as they come up to the school. When he saw the brick building, however, he tightened the hold on his hand.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Dad I….I don’t want to go to school.” Midorima gave a surprised ‘hn?’ in response, but his son just looked down. Fidgeting with his glasses. “What if….what if the teacher is scary? What if the other kids don’t like me? What if no one wants to play with me?” The young boy began to spiral and sniffling, thinking about all the things that could go wrong.

His father sighed and knelt down in front of him. “What do we always say?”

“Man proposes, God disposes.”

“Right.” Midorima replied. Not seeming phased by how his life’s motto sound so much less intimidating coming from such a cute, small voice. “We have to do our best to make sure things work out. We can’t worry about what could go wrong. That’s God’s job. We focus on the now.” He pulled a key chain out of his pocket and handed it to his son. “Take today’s lucky item with you. It’ll keep you safe.”

“But Dad! What about you?!”

“I’ll be alright. You just make sure you get to class on time and have a good day.”

His son came home later that afternoon to tell him all about the amazing day he had at his new school. His teacher was nice. His classmates really liked him. They even served his favorite in the cafeteria!

Midorima was happy for his son, and choose not to tell him that he had had the day from hell without his lucky item. From that day forward they each got their own.

Murasakibara

“Eh…? You don’t want to go to school?” Murasakibara looked at his daughter as she shook her head. Scuffing her new shoes on the sidewalk. “How come? You have to give me a good reason to skip your first day.”

“I…I don’t want to go…” She replied softly. His little girl incredibly shy. “What if the other kids make fun of me?” Murasakibara hummed a little. He supposed that was a good reason.

For better or worse, his children had inherited his height. It wasn’t so bad for her older brothers. Being tall was an admirable attribute for boys. For girls though…..well….it just made his angel that much bigger of a target.

“If the kids make fun of you, tell them your dad is even taller and he’ll stick them in a tree and leave them there if they make fun of you.” The little girl giggled, clearly picturing the image, but still didn’t seem convinced to go. Murasakibara knelt down so he wasn’t towering so much over her and patted her head. “School is important. You need to go so you can be smart like you Mom. Not a dumb dumb like your Dad.” He smoothed out her hair from ruffling it. It had taken them a while to get it right, and he didn’t want to ruin it. “But, I’ll be here when you get out today and we’ll go get ice cream as a reward. Our secret.”

His daughter beamed at the promise of ice cream and nodded eagerly. She then went off to school without any complaints. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. You could get him to do anything for ice cream too.

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commonwealthoccurences · 4 years ago

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Companions React: Finding An Abandoned Child

Request: Hi, I really love your writing! Could you maybe do companions react to finding a crying child hiding in like a car or an abandoned building?

TW: Child abandonment, trauma, PTSD in some characters, themes of child neglect and abuse

The Scenario: Sole and their companion are travelling through the wasteland, looking to collect scrap for the latest project. They were on high alert, of course, considering it was the wasteland, guns drawn by their hips as they crept forward into another abandoned building. It seemed to be relatively untouched, which was promising. That is, until the companion rounded a corner to head into one of the nearby doorways, and was met with the sight of a small child silently weeping in the corner. Alone.

Cait:

The image of that child alone, covered in grime, their face coated in tears, is forever seared into her mind from that moment on

She wasn’t allowed to cry much as a child, it was considered whining, but if there was one scene that could represent how she felt her entire childhood, it was that

She was rushing forward before she could even think about it, almost failing to consider how frightening that may be to the child

Luckily, she remembered shortly after her impulsive actions, and slowed down, kneeling a few feet away

“Do you need help?”

As soon as she can coax the child into trusting her and letting her pick them up to get them out of there safely, she struggles to let go

Even when Sole’s trying to check the child for injuries, she has to fight herself internally to let go of them

After a long talk with Sole, that child becomes priority in her life; sometimes the people who’ll mean the most to you find you in confusing ways

Curie:

She doesn’t think much about the possibility of accidentally frightening the child

She’s already in front of them and checking them over to make sure they don’t have any life threatening wounds

If she accidentally scares the crap out of the kid, she realizes her mistake and backtracks

Kind of forgets that Sole exists at that point until it’s time to carefully pick the child up and get them out of the building; they’re the designated body guard

Once they’re back at Sanctuary she confers with Sole on how to make the child most comfortable

They discuss whether or not it would be better for the kid to stay with them, or in Sanctuary in general, or to look for suitable adopters; their decision relies on where Curie’s at in figuring out herself and where Sole’s at in the main story (if Sole is canon-compliant)

Danse:

There’s supposed to be a protocol for similar situations according to the Brotherhood

He has a moment of weakness, seeing a child so helpless like that

He gets hit with anger, surprisingly; he tries his best to remain detached, and he’d like to think he’s pretty damn good at it, but the idea that someone could abandon their child like that?

He suppresses it long enough to have Sole carefully approach and check the kid over (he knows his armor isn’t exactly the most relaxing sight)

He’s somewhat silent on the way back to the Prydwen

Handing them over to the medical staff is difficult for him and he needs to take a moment, but at the same time struggles to leave the child

He asks Sole to stay with them so they have a somewhat familiar face and steps outside for a moment

Pulls some strings to get them adopted onto the Prydwen: he tries to keep a semi-detached relationship moving forward but definitely has some bias towards the child as they grow up in the Brotherhood and checks in on them

Deacon:

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time this has happened; he’s travelled for most of his life, and hiding out in abandoned locations was part of that

Child abandonment is more common than other people would like to believe, so he’s gotten used to sorting things out, and honestly, it’s not all that different from his work in the Railroad

Regardless, he’s had practice

He approaches slowly and quietly, but talks so that the kid is aware of where he is

He walks them through what he’s doing as he checks for any obvious injuries, asks a few questions if they’re verbal and not completely dissociated, and wipes their tears

Asks Sole for any sort of blanket or spare shirt they may have and wraps the child in it for comfort before asking to pick them up

Any conversation about the kid is done out of earshot- it’s not exactly comforting to hear strangers discuss how messed up you and your situation is

Instead he has Sole stay alert as he mindlessly tells lighthearted stories for the child to listen to if they can hear

Once they get back to Railroad HQ he stays nearby, tells jokes, can provide signing if they’re deaf, makes sure they give consent to every part of being treated, gets them some food, etc

Needs a moment once he’s told that they’ve found somewhere for the kid to go

One of the rare times he gives Sole a hug without prompting

Gage:

Has no clue what to do or what’s going on

Makes Sole approach the kid; “What if it’s a tiny feral ghoul?” “Gage, you’re an idiot”

Keeps his distance for the most part unless Sole asks him for help

He will pass the child some food or water, silently, in order to try and bond or something

Very much uninvolved in the process as long as Sole has things covered, but he does get extremely vocal in the fact that the child needs to go to a good home

Haylen:

Uncertain in how to approach, but once Sole tells her what they plan to do, she’s willing to help

Asks a few questions about why they’re there and what happened to them, but if she’s not getting answers, she knows to back off and focus on what might be going on physically

Once they’re both sure the child has no injuries and can be moved, Haylen uses cloth they collected to fashion a sort of back-carrier; the most practical thing is for both of Sole’s arms to be free for protection

Has a long chat with Sole about what to do once they get back to the Prydwen and briefs the medical staff, but after that, she lets Sole take over

She knows that spending more time with the child means she’ll get attached and that’s the worst thing she could do to either of them

Will ask about what type of home/community the child went to after they’re gone and feel reassured once Sole explains

Sometimes she randomly thinks of them and reserves a moment to send them her best wishes, but other than that, tries not to care

Hancock:

His heart absolutely shatters, but he knows that approaching may make things worse; after all, they’ve probably run into feral ghouls depending on how long they’ve been on their own, and his appearance won’t help their distress

Instead, he sends Sole forward to check up on them and build some repertoire

Sole has to have a small chat with them about how they know that there’s bad ghouls, but there’s also very nice ghouls, and that Hancock is the nicest ghoul they’ll meet

If the kid freaks out once they spot him he feels sick to his stomach, but if they don’t, he’s relieved

Has Sole carry them just in case the child changes their mind and freaks out after calming down, but will talk to them

Doesn’t really want to bring them back to Goodneighbor, but if that’s the closer option, that’s where they go instead of Sanctuary

Either way, he finds himself extremely attached already, and once the child receives medical attention, he’s bending over backwards to get them whatever they want food, drink, and comfort wise

Once the kid falls asleep, he sits Sole down to talk; (if they’re close) do they think they could co-parent?

Really doesn’t want to let the child go to another home; he’s seen the shittiest of shitty of the wasteland, and doesn’t trust anyone else to raise the child right, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he’d be a good parent

If Sole reassures him and is willing to take on the job, the pair adopt the child. If not, they bring the child home to Sanctuary and discuss with different settlers there whether or not they’d be willing to take on a child

The Longs get first offer

MacCready:

While emotionally he’s destroyed by the sight, he knows how to deal with the situation

He’s a natural with children after Duncan, and so it’s easy for him to approach calmly with plenty of warning and go through the process of making sure the child isn’t fatally wounded before getting permission to move them

Asks some basic questions, if the child isn’t mute, and tells some stories about Dogmeat and the silly things he does

(If Duncan isn’t healthy and he and Sole are just friends) Mac knows that having to part with the child is going to break his heart the moment he sees them, but he can’t take on another kid with the way his life is; it wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved

(If Duncan is healthy, has been moved to Sanctuary, and he and Sole are either best friends or partners and co-parenting) He waits until they’ve gotten the kid settled and talks to Sole about whether or not they have the mental, physical, literal, etc resources to take on another child

If they agree he’s ecstatic, considering the child won’t have to go to another set of strangers before finding somewhere safe

Brings Duncan in on the conversation and explains what’s going on and asks his opinion

Nick:

Like Hancock, despite the fact that he’d like to help right away, he knows that his appearance can be frightening to those who aren’t used to it

Instead, he tells Sole to go first and approaches afterwards

Whether he’s consciously aware of it or not, he tries to keep his face out of the child’s line of sight to avoid frightening them

Once they’re on the move he’s already gotten in a debate with himself on whether or not he’s willing to put on his Detective hat and look for the child’s parents

Of course, it could be a misunderstanding, and they could’ve gotten split up during an attack or something

But at the same time there’s a visceral anger in him that someone would let their child end up like this; it’s not rational, he knows, especially since it could be an accident, but he can’t really help it

He knows where he could place the child already if Sole and he aren’t in a place to handle the responsibility (and it takes a long while into their friendship/relationship for him to even think about co parenting) due to the many families he’s met during his work

Piper:

She thinks with her heart and not her head, so she’s already scooping up the child before it even registers in her that that may be a bad idea

Panicked, trying to soothe the kid as she’s shooting Sole a frantic expression of what the hell

Has no idea what to do, really, and looks to Sole to help her out

Once they’re on their way to somewhere safe she discusses the fact that (unless she and Sole have moved to Sanctuary and are past the main questline) they probably can’t take on a child

They’re consistently travelling due to her work, Sole’s fighting their battles, etc

If they’ve settled, they already have both Shaun and Nat to worry about, so she’s not quite sure how another child will work in their lives

But if they do decide to take on the responsibility, the decision is made when she goes to get food for the child back in Sanctuary and finds them fast asleep against Sole’s chest

Something about that image seals the deal for her and she knows she and Sole need to have a long talk

Preston:

Unfortunately, like Deacon, this isn’t quite an uncommon sight for him

He approaches and talks his way into trust with practiced ease that’s quite telling of how things go in the wasteland

He’s picked them up and is already on his way out by the time Sole registers what they may want to do about the situation

It’s not really a question to him that the child’s coming back to Sanctuary; he knows that someone will take them in, even if he specifically can’t

He’s had enough field training (and practice) that he knows how to check for injuries and treat some basic ones, so that’s done swiftly and as painlessly as possible

X6-88(Institute):

Doesn’t really see the point in getting involved, but if Sole wants to do something about it, then he doesn’t protest; after all, he’s there to protect them, no matter what antics they get up to, no matter how unadvisable

He keeps his distance and pays no mind to what they’re doing with the child, he’s simply there to keep guard

Wants no part in the matter

X6-88(Post-Institute):

Really isn’t sure what to do at all

He lets Sole approach first and takes cues from them; their cautious body language, quiet voice, etc

Pretty much just follows their lead the entire time due to his uncertainty of the situation, but he adapts eventually

Offers them water pretty much right away because he knows how threatening dehydration can be especially since they’ve been crying

No matter how much he may want it, he doesn’t bring up the idea of him and Sole co-parenting first; they would have to say something first for him to discuss the idea

He is one of the most protective when it comes to finding a family for the child, if that’s what he and Sole decide to do, though

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago

Text

Passing the Test

Summary: Marcus finds a used pregnancy test in the bathroom trash... but it isn’t yours.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader, heavily familiar relationship between teenage Missy and Reader.

Word Count: 2.6k plus ~500 bonus scene

Rating/Warnings: Non-explicit talk of sex (parent/child safe sex discussion,) Pregnancy scares, discussions of having children, mentions of birth control, pills and doctors. Fainting. It’s tame in the sense of content rating, but I know these can be triggering topics to some. Take care of yourselves <3

It was a simple, normal Sunday morning… right up until it wasn’t.

Breakfast was wrapping up. Missy was picking at her plate, slowly finishing up her waffles as her teenage brain woke-up. Marcus had finished quickly, starving after his early morning run. You’d already eaten and were already started on washing up. Marcus dropped his plate off with you at the sink, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he thanked you for breakfast before taking off towards the bathroom to shower.

You didn’t hear the shower turn on as you expected, instead hearing Marcus making his way back down the hall to the kitchen.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” Your brow furrowed as you looked over your shoulder to see what your husband was talking about. His voice was small, almost panicked, and you didn’t know what would cause him to have that reaction. He was the one in the house who killed any bugs that showed up and you’d never had a rodent problem. You were wondering what he could have found in the bathroom until you saw the plastic stick he was holding.

Your breath caught in your throat, immediately recognizing the pregnancy test. As a woman, you’d taken them before. Accidents happen, sometimes stress or illness delays nature’s flow, you’d been there. However, you hadn’t been there recently.

You glanced at Missy, seeing it written all over the girl’s face. She was frozen, mortified. She looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe. To be fair, you felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe too. You looked back at Marcus, but his eyes had never left you. The loving, doting father hadn’t even considered the other option in front of him and honestly you didn’t know if you could break the news to him.

“Oh, uh.” You stuttered as you tried to wrap your brain around all the new information thrown your way.

Missy was sexually active. She was 17, it wasn’t surprising, but she hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure you had expected her to but you had tried to make it clear as she grew that you would be there for her if she needed a woman to talk to instead of her father. Not only was she having sex, but she’d had a scare. Was she late? Did the condom break - please lord, you prayed, let her be using condoms. Was she… You were too young to be a grandmother. A step-grandmother. Was that even a thing?

As you processed everything, Marcus crossed the kitchen to you while Missy had slunk down in her chair about as low as she could go.

“Did you think... “ He trailed off, his voice soft. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You opened and closed your mouth, looking for the right way to answer this. You hadn’t said anything because you’d had no idea someone in the house had taken a test!

“I wasn’t sure.” You mumbled, mouth going dry as you didn’t correct his assumption. One step at a time.

First, find out what the result of that test is.

Second, have a long, long, long talk with Missy about many, many things. Safe sex and hiding things we don’t want to be found among them.

Third… make brain work again? You had no idea where to go from there, but you supposed step three would become clear from the results of steps one and two.

Then, there was the issue literally staring you in the face. Marcus. The two of you had talked about children earlier on in the relationship as things grew serious. He told you that he wasn’t ready for more and you accepted that. You loved Missy and loved having a piece of her to share as you three became a family unit. The topic never came up again, so you just assumed Marcus didn’t want another child. You’d stayed on the pill and that was that. You always thought that if he changed his mind, he’d bring it up. It wasn’t something hidden. He saw your pack of pills on the nightstand that you took daily, and you’d even mentioned aloud a few times when you needed to get them refilled. There was plenty of opportunity for him to bring it up if he thought maybe you should go off them.

“You still could have talked to me. I would have sat with you or something.” Marcus told you, setting the test down on the counter to take both of your hands in his.

You stared at the little piece of plastic, mentally thanking whoever was listening that Missy had splurged for the digital type. The word “negative’ sprawled on the screen, and you didn’t have to try to subtly decipher whether you were hoping for one line or two. You felt like you could breathe again.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” You shook your head. “Just late, wanted to make sure.”

You saw Missy gaping at you out of the corner of your eye, clearly surprised you were taking the fall for her.

“How did you feel? About the result?” He asked gently, this thumb stroking the back of your hand.

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” you suggested, letting your eyes shoot in the direction of the teenager at the table, hoping Marcus would get that you’d rather talk in private. You’d also rather have a bit of time to wrap your head around everything that was just dropped on you.

Marcus’ eyes moved with yours, seeing Missy slumped in her seat making herself as small as possible. “Okay. We’ll talk later.” He promised, kissing your forehead.

You nodded in agreement and he squeezed your hands before letting them drop. As he left to take that shower, the tension in the room was palpable.

Missy started to speak but you shushed her, raising a finger in her direction while still watching down the hallway. “Wait til he starts the shower. Then we’ll talk.” You instructed quietly, glancing her way.

Part of you felt bad for the girl, she looked absolutely mortified - and you’d seen her look plenty embarrassed before by her father’s helicopter parenting and bad jokes. On the other hand however, if she was old enough to need that test, she’d have to take this talk like an adult.

Neither of you moved until the shower started. As soon as you heard the water in the pipes, you marched to the table and sat next to her.

“I’m sorry-”

“What’s going on, Missy?” You interrupted the girl’s plea. “Don’t you dare lie to me after I covered for you with your dad. Why did you take that test?”

She stared down at the tabletop, blinking rapidly as she fought the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m late.” She admitted.

“How late?”

“Just a few days.”

“And how long have you been having sex for?”

She looked up at you, face turning red.

“No, no, no.” You chided. “You want to act grown, we’re gonna talk like you’re grown. How long?”

“Couple of months.” She mumbled, shrugging as she avoided looking you in the eye.

“Are you being safe? Condoms, birth control?”

“Condoms.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” You huffed. “If you were smart you would have hidden that test so your dad didn’t find it.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, tightening her grip on herself. “I was just so relieved it came out negative, I didn’t think...”

You took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You knew you needed to be smart about how you talked to Missy. If you were too harsh, she wouldn’t come to you in the future. If you were too lenient, she’d think a pregnancy scare at her age was no big deal and she might continue to be careless.

“Missy,” you started. “I really wish you would have come to me about this.”

“I didn’t want you to get mad. Or tell dad.” She admitted, still staring down at the table.

“You’re lucky he’s a definition himbo.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She shot you a look, brows furrowed. “Nobody says that anymore.” She grumbled, making you sigh. Teenagers.

“That’s not the point.” You shook your head. “Missy, I wouldn’t have gotten mad. I probably would have asked questions, but I would have been there for you, helped you through it. I’ve been there, I know how scary it is.”

Missy nodded as you saw a tear roll down her cheek. You reached over and took her hand in your own.

“Did you only take one test?” You asked, which she answered with a nod.

“Okay. I’ll go out later today to get another, just so we can be sure. Then Monday I think we should make an appointment about getting on you some form of birth control.” You planned.

“There’s more than one kind?” Missy mumbled.

“Oh hon, yeah there’s a few.” You smiled gently, trying not to make fun of the girl for her lack of knowledge. “I can see if my doctor has an opening if you want, she’s really great.”

Missy nodded. You reached over with your free hand to rub her arm comfortingly. “Until we get that sorted, can you try to… hold off for a bit?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” She rolled her eyes, wiping away her tears. “This whole thing kinda scared me off of... it.”

“I wish that would last,” you chuckled, “but it won’t. Teenage hormones suck.”

The silence that settled between you two wasn’t wrought with the same tension as before. The tension this time was of nerves, you scared for your step-daughter and Missy shaken up by her whole ordeal.

“Do you have any questions, anything you’re confused about?” You prompted, trying to open the floor to her.

“Are you gonna tell Dad?” She asked quietly. So quietly you almost didn’t hear her.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to think about it. One on hand, you didn’t want to be keeping anything from Marcus, especially when it came to his daughter. On the other hand, you knew you were lucky your mother had been around to deal with this part of your life. You would have been mortified having to go to your father for sex stuff.

“I won’t tell him,” you decided. The relief in the teen’s eyes was palpable, and she looked like she was going to cry again. “But you have to promise me that you’ll talk to an adult about things like this. You can always come to me, but if you’re not comfortable with that-”

“No, now that I know you’re not gonna tell dad-” Missy started, but you cut her off firmly but gently.

“Let me finish. I’m glad you’re comfortable talking to me now, but if you ever aren’t, please talk to your Abuela or the doctor, or a counsellor at school, okay? I know you’re 17 and you think you know everything. I was the same way, everyone is at your age, but an adult can help you with this stuff, okay?”

Missy agreed as the two of you heard the shower shut off. You fought the urge to sigh as you remembered the other side of this coin: the conversation you had to have with Marcus now.

“Why don’t you go clean up?” You offered, wiping away the rest of Missy’s tears with your thumb. “I’m already lying to your father for you, I don’t need to explain to him why you were crying too.”

Missy laughed a little at that, a small pitiful laugh but a laugh all the same. She stood, wrapping her arms around you. You were surprised, but you returned the hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered before running off to her room. The door closed behind her and it didn’t take long for loud music to start playing.

You slumped down, resting your head in your hands as you took several deep breaths. You gave yourself a pep talk in your head, convincing yourself you’re doing the right thing by keeping this from Marcus, and encouraging yourself that you handled the situation well. You went over the plan again in your head, pretty sure you had your bases covered to take care of Missy in light of the scare. Once you’d gotten her in with the doctor, you’d have a more in depth talk with her about safe sex and being responsible with her body.

You heard Marcus’ footsteps, soft against the carpet of the hallway carpet, before he paused at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, coming up to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, I think I just feel a headache coming on.” You told him, which wasn’t untrue. You could definitely feel the beginnings of a stress headache prickling at the edges of your consciousness.

Marcus’ large hands started massaging your shoulders, making you groan softly in delight.

“Is it because…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to continue for you to know he meant the test. He’d probably been thinking about it the whole time he was in the shower, and it was probably best to get this conversation out of the way rather than to let it fester. You nodded, letting him know it was - which wasn’t a lie.

His hands stopped massaging your shoulders, running up and down your arms a few times before he sat next to you in the chair Missy had just vacated.

“I’m sorry you went through that alone,” he started, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. It made you smile at his sweetness.

“It was my choice. I’m sorry I kept it from you.” You knew at this point the two of you were having two different conversations, you were apologizing for keeping Missy’s secret from him but you did truly believe it to be the right decision. At least for now. Maybe someday when she’s older and out of the house, you’d tell him and laugh.

“We’ve never really talked about it. Not since the beginning.” Marcus got a faraway look in his eyes and you knew he was remembering the date you two had been on when the conversation was had.

“Yeah, but that’s okay.” You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the now. “I like what we have.”

Marcus frowned, his deep brown eyes filled with worry not unlike Missy’s had been minutes before. “Are you sure? I saw the test and… I just suddenly felt like I was holding you back. If that’s something you want, we should discuss it.”

“And if it was something I felt strongly about, I would have brought it up.” You promised him. You knew right from the start of your relationship he was worried about holding you back. You were younger than him with the world at your feet. He was a widowed single father with a young daughter and a career in fighting supervillains and aliens. He didn’t just have baggage, he had a storage locker of issues.

“Alright.” Marcus sighed, but you could still see the trepidation in his eyes. You smiled at him, pulling him into a kiss.

“Don’t worry babe, I don’t think I could handle another teenager.” You teased. Today was probably one of the most difficult moments you’d had as a step-mother aside from the initial growing pains of your relationship with Missy, but you’d all survived it.

Marcus laughed and you were happy to see a joyful sparkle replace the worry in his eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He glanced towards Missy’s room where her loud music was still blaring. He shook his head before standing, picking up Missy’s abandoned plate. You expected him to take it to the sink but he stopped behind you, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Although, they’re really stinkin’ adorable when they’re babies.” He confessed, shocking you into silence. He kissed the side of your head and moved to the sink to wash Missy’s plate.

Or it could have gone something like this...

You were sitting at the edge of your bed, stretching as you woke up for the day. Marcus had opened the curtains a crack before he left for his run and you could see it was going to be a beautiful day out. You stood slowly, unrolling your spine as you got your balance.

You heard the front door open and close. You must have slept in later than you’d meant to since you usually had breakfast ready by the time Marcus got back from his run. Or he’d left earlier than usual. Either way, that just meant he could shower while you were cooking. You blinked your bleary eyes as you crossed to your dresser for some lounge clothes to wear. You were in one of Marcus’ old t-shirts and your underwear and figured you’d at least put some pants on before leaving the room.

You could hear him through the hall as he made his way to the bathroom, his footsteps falling a little heavier on the carpet after exerting himself, still panting lightly. You yawned away the sleep, struggling to keep your balance as you pulled a pair of plaid shorts up your legs. You’d just gotten them over your hips when the door opened.

You looked up, seeing Marcus still sweaty and flushed from his run. He was staring at something in his hand looking completely confused. You furrowed your brows, trying to focus on the small object as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” He asked, holding it up for you to see. It took you a moment to register what the thin stick of plastic was.

“That’s not mine.” You defended. You were on the pill and hadn’t had any recent scares. If you had, you would have shared that with Marcus. But if it wasn’t yours...

Your eyes widened as your sleep-addled brain caught up to the real world. It felt like your heart stopped. Marcus seemed to have made the connection just before you did as he stared down at the test in terror.

“Marcus sweetie, it’s probably not what we think,” you tried to calm him as he turned bright red.

“No. N-no, no, no.” He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off it as his breathing started coming quicker and quicker.

“Marcus, you need to breathe. Relax.” You begged as you watched the emotions crossing his face at a dizzying pace. Fear, anger, confusion, hurt, anger again-

“Missy?” He squeaked pathetically, looking up at you in panic.

“She’s not a kid anymore, Marcus.” You offered pathetically. You knew Marcus would always see Missy as his little girl despite the fact that she was in her late teens. You’d had no idea she was sexually active but if she’d taken a pregnancy test that pretty much spoke for itself.

“But she-” He whimpered, shaking his head as he stared at the test.

You bit your lip, searching for the words to help him accept this. You hadn’t even seen the test result yet, so you had no idea how big the problem was about to be.

You watched as his eyes unfocussed, nearly crossing before they rolled back. If you were awake, you would have anticipated what happened next. Since you weren’t, you watched helplessly as Marcus face planted in front of you, passed out from the shock of his teenage daughter taking a pregnancy test.

So much for a relaxing Sunday.

A/N: I ended the “first ending” there so that each reader could decide if the conversation that followed would be “wait, we want kids? Let’s go!” or “Haha, babies can be cute as long as they’re not mine!” So feel free to let your imagination wander.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle

#Marcus Moreno x Reader #Marcus Moreno drabble #Marcus Moreno fic #Marcus Moreno x You #Marcus Moreno x F!Reader #Marcus Moreno imagine #WookieTales

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bunnimew · 4 years ago

Text

5 Times Pitch Used Terrible Pick Up Lines and the 1 Time It Kinda Worked

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Fluff, Crack, Pick Up Lines, Post-Movie, 5+1, rating for themes, Pitch Black is a ridiculous man, Jack Frost you little shit Rating: T Words: 1884 Summary: Does what it says on the tin.

For RotG Bingo 2021: Terrible Pick-Up Lines On AO3 Here.

Jack hadn’t seen Pitch since the nightmares dragged him away.

The image was never far from his mind. The panic, the despair. And the children were so carefree now that Jack began to wonder if the Boogeyman would ever return.

Which is what made it such a shock when he finally heard that voice again, that silky smooth tone Jack thought locked away in his past, out of the literal darkness.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

Jack gripped his staff on instinct and spun to face his opponent before he realized that wasn’t an insult at all.

That was a pick-up line.

Pitch Black had just laid a pick-up line on Jack. Frost. One of the Guardians.

What.

The shock was so complete that all the fight melted out of Jack and left him reeling in confusion. Pitch’s lines were meant to sting, right? They weren’t supposed to be–

“Did you just call me fine?” Jack had to ask. Just to make sure.

Pitch’s expression remained smooth and suave, but his body, what little of it was solid, began to waiver and… was the Nightmare King fidgeting?

“Of course, Jack,” he said. “Surely you know how appealing you are?”

Jack nodded. He did. He definitely did. “Surely you know how weird it is that you said it?”

Pitch tilted his chin up, straightening his spine and assuming a very carefully composed stance. He looked uncomfortable as fuck. “It’s not that strange, Jack. If you’ll recall, it’s not the first… offer I’ve made you.”

That was a fair point, and Jack almost gave it to him. “Taking over the world and taking me to bed aren’t exactly the same thing, Pitch.”

His eyes widened in feigned surprise. Pitch leaned forward just enough to make Jack feel his height, and then he said, “Aren’t they, though?”

He vanished into the dark before Jack could come up with a good reply.

“Kiss me if I'm wrong. But dinosaurs still exist, right?”

This time, Jack was less surprised. Surprised, yes, but Jack didn’t jump into a defensive stance or anything, which was good for his sense of pride.

Instead, he thought about what Pitch actually said. Dinosaurs did not exist, and that was one of the saddest facts Jack knew. “These are supposed to be Pick-Ups, not Put-Downs. What are you doing?”

Pitch didn’t miss a beat. He turned his head coyly to the side and made himself look very unassuming. “You know, I’m actually terrible at flirting. How about you try to pick me up instead?”

That was… a pretty good line, if Jack were honest. Unfortunately, fraternizing with the enemy was frowned upon in most establishments, and also Jack was not going to reward the Boogeyman for bad behavior. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Are you sure?” Pitch looked up, all innocence. “Maybe you should check again.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He knew Pitch was witty and all, but somehow the Guardian had thought it limited to nasty insults and setting traps. Speaking of…

He looked right into Pitch’s eyes when he said. “You’re wrong, but I’m not kissing you.”

Pitch’s lips twisted, but it looked more playful than aggrieved. “Well you’re no fun.”

Jack skated to the edge of the lake, the one he liked to think of as home, and tipped joyously over into the soft snowbank to rest. Figure eights were a lot of fun, but figure skating was a lot of work.

“We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

Jack almost jumped right back out into the lake and through the ice. Instead, he used his unwillfully gained momentum to turn and smack Pitch’s shoulder for scaring him. That was no way to woo a man.

“Antarctica hit you hard, didn’t it?” he accused.

Pitch did look off-put by that, but he didn’t leave so Jack figured he was over it enough. It was only fair, too, considering the whole Antarctica thing was largely Pitch’s doing.

Jack brushed off the snowflakes he’d thrown all over himself in his panic and settled down into the bank the way he’d meant to before Pitch so rudely interrupted. “You know, you’d get further if you stopped sneaking up on people.”

Pitch looked even more offended by that. “I am the Boogeyman!”

“Yeah, so?”

Pitch tossed his head. Dramatically. Jack hid his grin. “Sneaking up on people is what I do.”

“Sneaking up on targets is what you do,” Jack corrected mildly. He stuffed one arm under his head and made sure to have a good angle on Pitch’s face for what he said next. “Sneaking up on a pull is how you go to bed lonely.”

Pitch drew back in shock, and Jack loved to see it. His eyes were wide and everything.

Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “That is what you’re trying to do, isn’t it?”

Pitch sputtered. It was hilarious. He recovered quickly, and that was fun, too. “And who are you to give me dating advice?”

Jack shrugged. “Just the guy you’re trying to date.”

Pitch walked right into that one, and he clearly knew it by the way he kept his mouth shut and looked at everything that wasn’t Jack. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “Yes, well…”

“Well?” Jack prompted. He would have sworn Pitch’s high cheekbones were looking darker than usual.

“Have a nice night,” Pitch said in a rush of breath and vanished into the shadows from whence he came.

Jack grinned. He didn’t care if Pitch was actually still there and could see. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

If Jack was the kind of person to compliment his arch nemesis, he would give him props for materializing slowly this time. Was Pitch trying to learn?

All the same, the Nightmare King stopped Jack in his tracks by blocking his way with a long gray arm and a beautiful purple rose.

“I just wanted to show this rose how beautiful you are.”

Gorgeous as the rose was, that line was transparent as hell. Jack dropped his shoulders and stared at Pitch, hoping his expression was as lame as that line.

To his credit, Pitch held his ground. His face was the picture of innocent interest, maybe even with a dash of hope.

As they watched each other, waiting to see who blinked first, Pitch’s arms slowly lifted to place the rose, de-thorned thankfully, over Jack’s ear.

...Well played.

Jack tried to maintain his stare, but it was hard to stay mad when he felt pretty. That didn’t mean Pitch’s line was working; it just meant Jack liked roses. Who didn’t like roses?

Jack gathered his wits and tried to look casual when he asked, “If that’s all you wanted, then I guess your job’s done here, isn’t it?”

Pitch didn’t look upset the way Jack thought he would. His eyes were roaming over Jack’s face and the flower tucked against it in distant admiration and Jack, for the first time, really started to think Pitch might mean something by these lines he was using.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said as if waking from a dream. This time, when Pitch melted into the dark, he sank slowly into the shadows and it didn’t feel anything like the running away it had every time previously.

He could have taken three times as long to leave and Jack still wouldn’t have found his tongue in time to reply.

This time, when Pitch appeared, Jack was reclining lazily up in a tree. Which Jack would have considered his home turf, except the way Pitch dripped out from the shadow of the branch above him to hang upside down, comfortable as any bat, made him feel at a distinct disadvantage.

It was creepy, but Jack could admit it was cool, too. Pitch had style.

Jack waited patiently for the line he knew was coming.

“I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He couldn’t help it. And yet, after all of this, Jack could admit to feeling flattered by it, too. A snack, huh?

“Why can’t you just tell me you like me and get it over with?”

Jack hadn’t realized any part of Pitch was moving until all of it, extended shadows and everything, came to a screeching halt. “Wha–” He stuttered, and it was music to Jack’s ears. “No, That’s–I don–”

The Boogeyman didn’t know how to handle it when he wasn’t in control, but rather than lash out the way Jack feared, the way he was used to, he flailed in embarrassment and conceded all ground to Jack. That, more than anything else, told Jack what he needed to know.

“Goodbye, Frost.” Pitch said with what little dignity he could muster, and dropped right into the ground.

Pitch wasn’t even a surprise this time.

Jack was in the middle of a long brick walkway, icing up the ornate lamps and decorating the bare trees on either side with snow. There were plenty of shadows to pick from, but Pitch walked over from some distance away giving Jack more than enough warning to know he was there.

Jack was tempted to interrupt him. To see if he could wrongfoot him again, get Pitch to trip over his own words and obvious desires and flee.

It would be easy. Jack could think up dozens of ways to call Pitch out before he even spoke a word.

But then Jack wouldn’t get to hear him speak a word.

And he was curious what words Pitch might speak.

“Your eyes are bluer than the Atlantic ocean,” Pitch spoke softly, poetically. He must have practised to deliver the line this well. “And I don’t mind being lost at sea”

It was worth it, Jack thought: the practice and letting Pitch say it. That smooth tongue was meant for promises on the wind and romance in every word.

Jack stared for too long and only realized when Pitch’s eyes gleamed and he took another breath.

“I wish I were a tear,” he whispered as he moved closer. His cool fingers brushed gently along the side of Jack’s face and Jack felt no fear. Pitch was telling him just what he wanted, and Jack held all the power here. “...So I could start in your eyes,” Pitch said, “live on your face…” His fingers drifted down along Jack’s jaw. He knew what Pitch was going to say before he said it, “...and die on your lips.”

But it was so much better out loud, in Pitch’s voice, than in Jack’s head.

It was Antarctica all over again, but this time Pitch was offering something whose price wasn’t Jack’s soul. It was Antarctica all over again, and Pitch was brave to come back a second time, a third time, a sixth time to risk rejection and hurt and wounds reopened that maybe only just healed.

Jack watched Pitch glow in the moonlight. Watched him take a deep breath and open his lips to speak—

“You can stop now,” Jack said, and grabbed the back of Pitch’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Pitch’s lips tasted just as sweet as his lines.

#TheBunni #Rise of the Guardians #rotg #blackicerotg #blackice rotg #blackice #Jack Frost #Pitch Black #Pick-up lines #Rotg Bingo #rotgbingo

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thebigqueer · 4 years ago

Note

A while back you mentioned something about the Apollo kids parents meeting up every one in a while and Apollo running into them during one of those times. Do you think you could write a lil fic about that?

ahhh yes that’s one of my favorite headcanons!!

thanks for the prompt, and i hope you like this! and, as always: i do little to no editing on these fic prompts, so don’t be too judgmental as you read through them. they’re definitely not my best work but i just can’t ever be bothered to look back aslkdjslfkd

this will be in first person because idk i really loved apollo’s pov in first person so i hope i do his character justice lmaoo

also as i was writing this i’m not gonna lie i felt really bad for apollo all he wanted was to have some time with his children 😭

also!!! we are!!! so starved!!! for dad!apollo moments!!!! bro can we just!!! see more dad!apollo moments!!!! come ON rick!!!! i didn’t realize how much i wanted them until i wrote this halskjfaslkjf

I will say, I wasn’t quite sure what to be expecting when I came down to the mortal world today. It definitely was not to find out all of my exes regroup annually to mock me.

Since becoming a god again, I’ve made it a personal promise to come down every once in a while. I’ve grown quite attached to these mortals, especially to my demigod children. After all, my own descendants are the best of all living beings; it’s only fair that I come and talk to them every once in a while. And, believe it or not, being around mortals helps me, too. It makes me find comfort in a world where lives may be short but lives are lived; as a god, I only ever exist.

When I was human, though, I truly lived. It was exhilarating. Now that I am a deity again, there’s a hollowness that resides in me.

Sometimes coming down to this mortal world helps me simulate that experience of being human again. It helps me feel less lonely up in my world of immortality and timelessness.

The sun blazes overhead as I traipse along to my cabin after just meeting with Dionysus. The insufferable bastard beat me once again at pinochle and would not stop gloating, so I decided to storm away from the wine god before he could start beating my ass in Uno.

However, as I approach my cabin, my rage ebbs away. My demigod children stand around the entrance, talking in hushed voices, and my heart bursts with warmth. It has only been a few weeks since I’ve last seen them, but each time I do, I feel only a flush of pride looking at them.

“My children!” I exclaim. “I’m here once again!”

They all jump as if I’ve scared them. For a moment, no one says anything. Then they break apart and each of them offer me a shaky smile of their own.

“Hey, Dad,” Will says, his voice a bit higher than I remember.

I step forward, happiness flooding over me. It hasn’t been too long since I’ve seen them but it certainly feels like it’s been millennia. “How are you all?”

Kayla pushes a pack over her shoulder. “We’re... good. How are you?”

Her words carry a bit of hesitation as if she’s nervous. Suspicion crawls over me. I cross my arms and respond, “I’m good too. Why do you have that bag over your shoulder?”

Austin, Will, and Kayla all turn to each other, sharing a look of panic. A shiver runs through me as I realize they’re up to something. I smile. “Ohhh, are you planning something? A prank, perhaps?” I rub my hands in anticipation. “Can I get in on it?”

Austin raises a hand and scratches his head. “Um, not quite. We’re actually... going somewhere.”

Panic seizes my heart and I rush forward. “Going somewhere? Where? Like, a quest?” I reach out to my children and hug them, feeling each of their bodies in my arms. “Why did no one tell me? Oh, gods, what if I never see you again?” Tears well up in my throat. I’ve only just come down to the mortal world, and they’re already leaving for doom?

“No, no, no!” Kayla exclaims, pushing against my arms. “Not like that, Dad! Not a quest. We’re just going out to the city. No need to worry.”

Relief washes over me and I laugh, taking my arms away from them. “Oh, that’s great! Are you going somewhere fun? Can I come?”

Before any of them can answer, a familiar demigod steps out of the Apollo cabin. They step towards Will and hand him a pack of ambrosia. It takes me for a moment to remember that it’s Nico di Angelo. He opens his mouth to speak to Will, then stops when they notice me. “Oh no,” they mutter.

“What do you mean, oh no?” I ask, the claws of suspicion creeping over my skin once more. “What are you three up to? Is Nico coming with you?”

Nico whispers to the three, “You haven’t told him?”

“Not a good time,” Kayla hisses.

“Well, I guess now is a better time than never,” Nico says. They turn to me and state blatantly, “They’re going to meet their parents in New York City.”

Kayla and Austin smack their faces and Will sighs. “You could have let us say it,” the blond mutters.

“Better to know from a child that isn’t his,” the child of Hades reasons, shrugging.

I blank. I was not quite expecting that response, and definitely not so casually. I stare at the four demigods quizzically. “Oh? I suppose that’s fair. But all three of you? All your parents know each other?”

“Um, well... they’re kind of friends,” Austin admits. “They... communicate often.”

A wave of humility washes over me. I will admit, it’s a little bit embarrassing knowing that the three people you’ve had children with all know each other and actively communicate. I would have suspected they’d feel a bit awkward with each other, but I didn’t quite expect they would be actual friends.

I tip my head in a sad nod. “I see. Well, I hope all three of you have fun today!” I’m trying not to sound too upset, but it’s a little bit hard when you’ve come down to the mortal world just to find out your children are going to be going into the city far away from you.

“Hey, Dad, we can hang out later!” Will suggests, a kind smile balancing over his lips. But he’s only saying that out of pity. He feels bad for me. This makes me crawl in further into myself.

“Yes, that sound alright,” I promise, feigning a smile. "But, really, don’t feel bad.” My shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “The last time I met your parents their careers were becoming quite busy. I suppose you don’t see them as often as you’d like, is that correct? And at this point, you’ve been seeing me even more often than your own mortal parents. It’s only fair that you have some private time with them.”

A tense silence tightens the air around us. Austin shifts on his feet. After a moment, Kayla says, “Well, we better go. We’ll see you later, though!”

A cold fist seizes my heart.

Will winces. He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “We’re sorry to leave you like this, but we didn’t expect you to come by today. We can definitely do something later, though. The three of us will be back by six. Nico’s going to do ghost stories tonight, too, so maybe you’ll want to hear those.”

I wave my hand dismissively and try on a smile that doesn’t quite fit right. “No, really, don’t feel too bad. I’ll come by later and we can do a movie night together after Nico’s ghost stories. I’ll see you later! And have fun!”

They all glance at each other hesitantly, then seem to come to a collective agreement. “Thanks, Dad,” Austin says, pulling me in for a hug. The other two do the same, then all three demigods wander out into the sun, aiming for the exit out of camp.

Nico stares at me, eyebrows raised. “So, what are you going to do now?” Picking at their jeans, they add, “You’re Apollo, so I’m expecting that you will be doing something stupid.”

I frown. “Those are brave words for a demigod to say to a powerful deity.”

“You’re too mushy at this point to pulverize me. They’ve made you soft.” He means it as an insult but their eyes glimmer. A smile laces his mouth.

I offer them a smile back. “Well, I suppose you are correct. I shall see you for your god-tier ghost stories.”

Nico shakes his head and turns to leave. “Please never reference modern things ever again.”

A little bit later, I’m balancing on a chair at a pizza shop in New York City. I’ve chosen the disguise of a businessman, mostly copying the image of a fairly attractive man I met on the way. Perhaps I will go and look for him after I’m done stalking my children.

The scent of pizzas swirl around me, contaminating my nose. The excited chatter of families and friends surround me. Some afternoon sun pours in through the open windows, offering the entire pizza place a relaxed look.

Somewhere to my left, a large group eats and talks, laughter echoing from their table. All my children are sitting to one side of the booth, while the adults loom over them on the other. Will’s bright blond hair gleams blindingly as the sun washes over his locks.

I wasn’t quite sure of what I was expecting from all three of my exes. Perhaps more gray hair, some wrinkles over their faces. No doubt all three of them have those, but they each look at peace, happy with life. There’s a brightness in their eyes as they gaze at their children.

I understand that look. I feel the same pride when I see all three of them.

Envy roils inside me. I’m not sure why, considering that I see the three demigods more often than they see their own mortal parents. Perhaps I’m just nervous that they adore their mortal parents more than they care for me.

But I wouldn’t blame them if they did either. I’ve spent too long only caring about myself. A coil of embarrassment wraps around me.

But I’m changing that now, aren’t I? I wasn’t the best parent, but I can only hope my children are seeing that I’m here for them. I only want what’s best for them.

Another burst of laughter erupts from the booth, and I turn my head, straining my ears to listen. Naomi’s silky voice echoes over them: “...and just as he got up he tripped over himself and fell on the ground. Honestly, I have no idea how he could have been a god, but he sure was dumb.” Naomi sighs. “Maybe that’s why I thought he was so adorable. People just constantly try to impress me. He did, too, but at least he was failing. He may have been a god, but he seemed almost human the night I met him.”

With a shiver, I realize that she’s discussing the moment she met me. Red hot embarrassment spreads over my face. Gods of Olympus, that was a terrible evening for me. I was just so awestruck by her performance. She literally made me come down just to see her perform. I could barely contain my excitement when the show was over!

Will’s sunny voice stands out, amusement lacing his voice. “Speaking of dating, tell us about your new girlfriend. I don’t remember you telling me about her too much at our last Iris message.”

My eyes widen. Girlfriend? I wasn’t aware Naomi was queer! A pang of guilt stabs me in the heart. What else don’t I know about my loved ones? I know I haven’t quite kept up with her, but shouldn’t I at least know this about her?

Shouldn’t I know anything about the three of my exes?

The chatter continues for a bit longer. The adults discuss some more dating history, especially surrounding their humiliating encounters with me. I cower behind my newspaper, feeling only the heat of embarrassment under my skin. Why must I be such an idiot?

Perhaps this is why my children don’t seem to like to me too much. Because I only ever do things to embarrass them. Maybe I’m just a loser of a father.

As I wallow in my own pity, the conversation turns another direction. My ears strain a little more. This time Latricia is speaking, a whisper of nostalgia brushing through her words: “He sure was something. But I think that we can all agree on something: I’m glad he came into my life. Without him...” Her lips quirk into a smile and she brushes her fingers over Austin’s. “Well, without him, I don’t think we’d have each of you. He really brought light into our lives.” She sighs. “He may not have stuck along too much, but you three make it sound like he’s getting better. I’m just glad that... that you’re getting to talk with him again. It seems like he really is starting to care about his children.” Latricia’s eyes rove over all three children, eyes glimmering with satisfaction. “I’m glad he’s seeing you three in the same light as we do.”

My ears turn hot and a red blush coats my cheeks. She’s right; I do appreciate them. Without my children, I don’t know how I could have managed to get through everything I did. Even now, after all that’s happened, it feels as though I have nothing better to look forward to than knowing how amazing they are. Tears stab my eyes.

And I almost jump out of my seat when someone calls, “You can stop hiding behind that newspaper, Apollo. We know it’s you.”

The voice surprises me so much I pop right back into my typical godly form, chiton and all. I’m already so embarrassed that I barely even realize that I’m half naked in public now. Grimacing, I stand and offer an awkward wave. “Ah, hello.”

Darren Knowles smiles at me, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. “You thought you were being stealthy, didn’t you?”

It’s been a while since I’ve really seen Darren, and the years have certainly aged him. Yet there’s still a flutter in my chest as I look at him. He doesn’t look so bad; he’s probably in his thirties or forties. I smile. “Well, I thought my godly powers would help disguise me.”

“Not as well as you thought,” Latricia remarks, smirking at me.

“How long have you known I was here?”

This time, Kayla speaks up. “Dad, we literally knew you were here the moment you got here.”

I blink. “And you didn’t call me out?”

Will shakes his head. “We wanted to see what you’d do. Gotta say, I’m surprised you didn’t do anything too spontaneous. Good job.”

He’s teasing me, but even then I feel a brush of humility come over me. “Well, I have to say that I didn’t quite know you three only come together to make fun of me.”

Naomi waves her hand in a dismissive manner. “Only to make sure our children know how lucky we are to have them.” Her eyes rove over me, almost as if judging how much I’ve changed. “I haven’t seen you in a while," she notes.

The three adults share a look, carrying a silent conversation with each other. Will, Austin, and Kayla watch me as if they expected me to do exactly this. Austin laughs. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

I shrug. “I just... I don’t know. I know I already see you three often enough, but I suppose I just wanted to see how things were going. Especially with your parents.” I glance at them, my cheeks blooming red. “I haven’t exactly been the best parent in the past. I just want to apologize. And let you know that your children... Well, they’re some of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever met. You’ve raised them better than I could ever have.”

Silence lingers in the air, waiting for someone to make the next move. Then Darren gestures to the food before them. “Why don’t you sit? I suppose we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#anon tag #asks #apollo/lester #lester/apollo #lester papdopoulos #rick riordan #riordanverse #will solace #kayla knowles #austin lake #latricia lake #darren knowles #naomi solace #my writing #riordanverse fic #riordanverse fanfic #fic prompts #fic prompt #dad!apollo

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narcissasdaffodil · 4 years ago

Note

A prompt of your choice with Elisa??👀👀

“You thought I never noticed you, but I did. I always saw you.” This is from a prompt by @screnwriter and links to Feels Like This, my Noah oneshot. This one will hopefully be continued, I’ve enjoyed writing about Lucisol.

One minute Marisol was on top of the world, the next her heart was entirely destroyed. Quinn didn’t even have the common decency to tell her to her face, she had watched, helpless, as Quinn followed after Elisa on Girls’ Day, and they kissed. Quinn had promised her this was nothing to worry about, and had let her believe there was still a chance for them as a couple.

“Marisol, can I talk to you?” Marisol looked up from her breakfast to see Elisa shifting from foot to foot. The taller girl leant on the counter and refused to look at her directly. A sinking feeling grew in Marisol’s stomach and she fiddled with a loose curl of hair. “Sure. What’s this about, then?”

Elisa sighed, looking up from the counter briefly. It was difficult to maintain eye contact with her, Elisa was being considerably shifty. “Quinn told me not to tell you, but we kissed on Girl’s Day, right? Well…”

“Well, what? What happened?” Marisol felt herself lash out at Elisa, causing the other girl to move backwards, out of range. Elisa not coming out with it immediately was causing her anxiety to grow.

“I’m so sorry, but last night on the roof terrace, I was with Quinn. We kissed, and…” Elisa kept going, but Marisol blocked it out, her ear popping. Looks like you’re doomed to be forever unhappy. What’s so wrong with you that no one will stay? Quinn has a pattern of cheating on people, yet you didn’t pay attention. She did that to Lucas during Operation Nope earlier in the summer, yet you didn’t see the signs, the neon red warning signs. Hope had warned you to not lose your head with Quinn, she didn’t trust her. But of course, you knew best.

Marisol felt tears spill down her cheeks and she covered her mouth. She pushed aside her food, taking off her glasses and put her head on the counter, not wanting people to see her like this. She couldn’t hear anything and put her hands over her ears, hoping to block out the ringing sound in her head.

She felt a hand resting on her head and fiddling with her hair. The sensation made her feel sick and she sat up, only one person would touch her hair like that and that was the one person she wanted to avoid. Quinn had run over her heart in her tall high heeled boots and smashed it to bits, now she was completely broken.

“Marisol, why are you so upset?” Quinn’s voice softened as the other girl sat next to her. Marisol edged her stool as far as possible from her, turning her head away from the other girl.

“I don’t want to see you right now. You should know why, does last night on the roof terrace ring a bell at all?” She pulled back her composure, refusing to look at Quinn. “I gave up everything for you, and you refused to acknowledge that. Did I mean anything at all to you, or was I nothing at all? Just someone else for you to walk all over and discard when you were done with me, like you did to Lucas. I trusted you, and that was a mistake, pure and simple.”

Quinn grabbed onto her hand, clutching tight to it. Marisol tried to pull away, but Quinn’s grip tightened. “I’m not going to have you run away from me. No wonder Gary gave up so quickly, to think I felt sorry for you when he lied. He made one mistake, then you crucified him for it. Poor little Marisol, every single couple falling apart for you, and how unlucky you were. Spare me the sob story, I don’t care.” Quinn’s words cut deep into her, pressing on some of her deepest insecurities. She fought to keep her composure, feeling tears spill over.

“You cheated on me. How dare you try to blame me for your own fuck up. I’m not the one that cheated. Did you even like Elisa? Or did you just use her because you couldn’t get Noah? And this situation is nothing to do with Gary. I’m over that...” She felt Quinn’s grip lessen on her hand and turned to face her, noticing how the other girl was fidgeting with her hands and looked lost for words.

“And this situation is nothing to do with Gary, or any of my failed couples. I’m over that… I really don’t understand what Lucas and Henrik saw in you, you’re an awful person.”

“Don’t...don’t say that. That’s not fair! I’m not going to say I wouldn’t use someone, as technically speaking I did that to you. You’re hardly over Lurik date day, you keep bringing it up. Lucas would never like you, so I wouldn’t try it.” Quinn’s voice turned high and whiny, faced with the consequences of her own actions.

“Of course I like Elisa, that’s a stupid question. Ever since we kissed, I’ve liked her. And I needed to escape you. You’re far too clingy and expect me to dote on you. I wish I stayed with Lucas, but nope. I had to let you reel me in, I only ever felt sorry for you. I didn’t see you as a real romantic prospect, who would?” Quinn laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. She pulled back enough composure to shatter Marisol further.

“I...I’ll say whatever I want. You can’t manipulate me in that way. No wonder you’re close to Lottie, both of you are bullies who are yet to grow up.” Marisol’s voice was weak as she stood up, backing into the stool which squeaked in protest over the flooring. She grabbed her glasses, pushing them up her nose and her breakfast and coffee mug, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. “We’re over, by the way. Don’t talk to me at all, unless necessary. You’re sleeping on the daybed permanently, until you can properly get together with Elisa. Why you couldn’t do that earlier without putting me in the middle, I don’t know.” Marisol rushed inside, hurrying upstairs. She dodged Bobby in the living room when he tried to follow her, and made her way to the roof terrace.

She set her coffee and breakfast plate on the bench and sat down, staring out over the Villa. Her bottom lip wobbled again as she felt herself break, and she took off her glasses again, preparing for the waterfall of tears. She curled up, resting her chin on her knees as she sobbed, hiding behind a curtain of hair. It was the start of a new day, but it felt like everything was turning awful again. Getting up early was a mistake, now she was stuck obsessing over her own decisions, what she could’ve done to make things better.

She heard footsteps and looked up in surprise to see Lucas, who moved aside her breakfast, sitting next to her on the bench. She watched him suspiciously, ready to bolt again. “I heard what happened with Elisa and Quinn, if you want to talk, let me know. She did it to me with Noah, and I decided to take her back, which was a bad idea. If you just want silence, that’s fine too.”

“Why...why are you here? Come to pity me? There’s no way you could’ve come for another reason. And I’m fine...Besides, what’s it to you? You didn’t care enough to give me a date when you came in, and haven’t given me the time of day since. I’d be surprised if you even knew anything about me, I fade into the background so easily. How do I know you’re not just going to report back to Quinn, anyway?”

“I haven’t talked to her once since before the last recoupling. I had no idea you two were together, it snuck up on me. It was her responsibility to have the common decency to say something.” He sighed and looked directly at Marisol, wiping her eyes with his finger. “You thought I never noticed you, but I did. I always saw you. I’m sorry for the dates, for all that’s worth. If you want me to find Hope, I’ll do that. But you shouldn’t be alone when you’re like this. I know from experience, I’ve done enough overthinking to last a lifetime because of Quinn.”

Marisol blinked. His finger on her cheek was causing her to short circuit and she blushed. He always saw you? Really? Maybe you’re not alone after all.

“You...saw me? I don’t know what to say to that. Please stay. I’m just really surprised by that. Why would you care about me? There’s so much wrong with me. I either leave, or people get scared off by me…” Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at the bench, grabbing her breakfast and taking a bite of her bagel to distract herself.

“I’m staying right here. And Hope hasn’t been scared off by you. As well as Bobby. I’m sure I can add more people to that growing list, but it’s a start.”

Marisol put the bagel back on her plate and looked up at him. She knew she probably looked an absolute state, and he didn’t have to follow her, yet he did. “Quinn couldn’t even tell me herself. She wanted Elisa to keep it a secret, and they could crack on behind my back. I’m just thankful Elisa had the sense to confess. Poor Bobby, he deserves better than her.”

“So do you. Quinn expects people to just sit by while she destroys everyone in her search for Noah, and until she gets him, everyone else will get walked all over. I learned that the first time she cheated, but went straight back afterwards. I’m not making that mistake again. Being coupled with Chelsea isn’t ideal, but…” He stopped mid sentence and studied her thoughtfully. She blushed under his gaze, cursing herself for getting this flustered. He’s just being kind, and you could do with more friends.

“You interest me, and I’d like to get to know you more. I’ll admit, I was surprised when you coupled up with Quinn. You’re much calmer, you actually give me time to think. Sometimes with Quinn, I’d have her chatting on and on without me getting a chance to get a word in edgewise. On top of that, children aren’t exactly in my plan for life. What about you?”

Marisol shook her head quickly. “Definitely not, I prefer to focus on my career. Cats on the other hand, are a different story. I take it Quinn wants the opposite? In that case, maybe I dodged a bullet.” Part of her felt relieved at the acknowledgement of that, and at the same time, something clicked within her.

“She called me clingy, which is true. Ever since she supported me unconditionally during Roccogate, I fell for her hard. Despite the fact that we were completely different people. Come to think of it, all three of my major relationships here were started by the person being kind to me. Rocco was the only one who cared about me on the day of the Lurik dates, and I mistook that kindness for love, not realising he was playing everyone. While for Graham, he seemed to focus on me and only me when we were together. He saw me as a weak link, an easy way to get into the Villa, and I was too blind to see it. Quinn on the other hand, was completely perfect. She cared about me so much that I never thought that could be a lie. But clearly I was so awful she needed to escape. And everything fell apart, once again. It’s like school again, always the outcast.” She let out a harsh laugh, the situation making her realise that she wasn’t cut out for relationships.

“Maybe I should just cut my losses and be alone forever. As people are always going to leave. I deserve it at this point. I wish people liked me more, but I can’t do anything about that. I’ll never be enough for them...” Her voice wavered and she sobbed again.

Lucas caught her chin, turning her face to face him. He focused completely on her when he spoke. “Marisol, listen to me. You shouldn’t base your own self worth around other people, and you’re not going to be alone forever. You’re not an awful person, it was Quinn who cheated in the first place.”

“The worst part of this whole mess is that Elisa reminds me so much of my ex Olivia, who cheated on me. They don’t look the same, but they have the same energy, it was pretty unnerving at first. So the fact I got cheated on again, and with someone so similar to Olivia, is just typical. Elisa even flirted with me when she first came in and I turned her down flat. She was flirting with both of us, and Quinn saw something special in her, I guess. Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear me moan so much.”

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s better to get it out.”

Marisol felt tears spill over again, and found herself moving closer to Lucas, nestling into his shoulder as she sobbed. His kindness without strings was unexpected, but it was helping. He moved her coffee cup and plate out of the way and let her move closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. The close proximity of him calmed her down, he was good at helping her talk through her feelings. The crush on him that she had before reignited, and she tried to ignore it.

Once they separated, the question on the tip of her tongue made her nervous. What if you’re just projecting onto his kindness, for the fourth time?

“W...would you be interested in a friendship couple with me? It’s okay if you’re not, anything would be better than Quinn.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

The door opened again, and Hope appeared. She rushed over, sitting on Marisol’s other side. “Are you okay? That’s probably a silly question, but you completely disappeared. I’ve been trying to find you.”

Marisol winced. “I’ve been better. But Lucas has been helping, he’s been a good friend to me.”

Hope nodded and looked between the two of them, smiling slightly. Her eyes glittered slightly, which confused Marisol. It seemed like Hope was happier about this than she had when Marisol had spilled the beans to her about her crush on Quinn, and she found herself questioning that. “Come on, let’s get you all cleaned up and ready. You can bring your breakfast with you, I’m staying with you regardless.”

Before Marisol had the time to react, Hope grabbed Marisol’s mug and breakfast plate, causing Marisol to grab her glasses and nearly rushed after her. She turned to Lucas and gave him an awkward wave. “Thank you for caring about me. See you later, then.”

He nodded in response as she rushed after Hope. Even though she felt awful, things were looking up just a little bit. She didn’t want to spend the entire day hiding in bed and letting Quinn know how much the other girl’s actions had bothered her, so the next best option was to spend time with Hope, and hopefully Lucas. She didn’t want to rush into something new quite as quickly, but part of her was hoping he had the feelings that were swirling around inside her.

#litg #love island the game #litgs2 #litg fanfic #litg marisol #marisol x mc #marisol x lucas #fanfic #Quinn Kennedy #lucisol #feels like this

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hargroves-angel · 5 years ago

Text

Masterlist - Upgraded ⚡️

——————————————————————————

• Key • Fluff - ★ • Smut - ♡ • Angst - ♧ •

Up Coming Things Masterlist

- Masterlist of all the new things I have planned!

Prompt Requests Masterlist

Series • Billy Hargrove X Reader •

• Cookies And Cream • ★ ♡ ♧ •

• Time Changes People • ★ ♡ ♧ •

Series • Billy Hargrove X OC •

- An Angels Kiss - _ _ _ -

(Coming Soon...)

Mini Series • Billy Hargrove •

Protective | Part 1 | Part 2 |

- Billy always has your back especially when kids are being assholes.

She Calls Me Daddy Too | Part 1 | Part 2 |

- You’re Hoppers daughter and Billy likes to piss him off.

She's kinda hot though (Henderson! Reader) | Part 1 | Part 2 |

- Billy likes Y/N Henderson but she doesn't really understand the concept of flirting.

Badass (Harrington! Reader) | Part 1 | Part 2 |

- The hot chick behind Harrington gains Billys interest.

Fluff • ★ •

Comfy Cuddles And A Slight Breeze

- A night cute movie night with Billy

Jealous Billy Headcannons

- Headcannons for jealous Billy

Quit It

- You've been trying to get Billy to quit smoking.

Hair

- Billy playing with you hair

Video Game Lover

- Billy takes a liking to the girl who works at the arcade

“Just Friends”

- Billy and you are just friends. But you both know that you want bit more than that, and so doesn't everyone around you, Its just time for you both to own up to that.

Pools Of Honey (Biracial! Reader)

- Billy can’t stand people being rude to you.

It’s Ok Now Baby

- You're a bit touch starved and stressed, all you want is Billy.

Music Lover

- The girl in Billys detention, seems to have caught his attention, she loves music as well.

Adorable

- Billy finds you so cute, you’re so different from his usual type and he finds you adorable.

Sweet Love Triangle (Henderson! Reader)

- Billy likes you but you like Steve, what could happen?

High With You

- Getting high with Billy and friends.

Wedding Bells

- Yours and Billys wedding.

California Baby

- You get Billy tickets to go to California for your anniversary.

Might Be Fun

- Billy is desperate to get with the Henderson he's fallen for but she isn't so keen herself.

Ice Cream And Sunscreen

- You take the party to the pool to visit Billy whilst he's working there.

Double Date

- You and Billy go on a double date with Carol and Tommy to a drive in movie.

Summer Fair

- Going to the summer fair in Hawkins with Billy.

Promise

- Billy promising you with his moms ring.

Crowned

- You and Billy get a couples tattoo.

Diner Date (Henderson! Reader)

- A fifth date with Billy at a nearby diner.

Puppy Love

- Billy gets a job at a local veterans clinic.

Attention

- Billy doesn't like how his little step-sister is getting all the attention he's used to getting from you.

Pillow Talk

- Billy knows what he wants in the future.

Im Not Scared... (Henderson! Reader)

- Billy takes you to go see Children Of The Corn but he doesn't realise that horror movies don’t phase you that much anymore, but hey sure as hell scare him.

Bikini Babe

- Billy showing you off at the pool.

Prom night

- Billy takes you to prom.

I Love You For You

- Billy has been working out a bit too much to gain back his muscles he feels as though he's lost recently.

First Day Of Kindergarten

- Billy is a bit emotional on his daughters first day of kindergarten.

I Love You

- Billy is in love.

“Do You Love Billy?”

- You and Billy being soft at a movie night with the gang.

Dad Material

- Billy has a soft spot for little ones.

Teddy Bear

- Billy loves his adorable girlfriend.

He’s Home

- Billy loves his family.

Smut • ♡ •

Lavender Lace

- Your first time with Billy

Everything’s Ok Now

- Billy has a nightmare about the events that happened in season 3, and all he wants to do is forget about it.

Beautiful (Plus Size! Reader)

- You drove to Billys house, tears streaming down your face, you were so done, done with all your fathers bullshit. You were meant to to be going on a date with Billy but ended up missing it due to your father.

Birthday Boy

- It’s Billys birthday and you have a plan to spoil him.

Gentle

- First time feels with Billy.

Officer Hargrove (Cop! Billy)

- You and officer Hargrove have a small arrangement regarding your sentence.

Backseat Lovin’

- You and Billy get down and dirty during drive in movie date.

Number 15

- Things get a little bit spicy after a basketball game.

Princess

- You give Billy something to remember you for when you’re not around.

Keg Queen

- Billy likes the look of the new Keg Queen.

Being Horny And Pregnant

- You need Billy to help you get off because there is a certain baby bump in your way.

Baby

- Billy needs you after his father has hurt him once again.

Dirty Little Secret

- Things get seamy after you find a little something in his draw.

Locker Room Loving

- You and billy get busy in the locker rooms.

NSFW Alphabet

- NSFW Alphabet with Billy.

Interruptions

- You and Billy get interrupted.

Rules

- Billy lays down some rules.

Sweat

- Billy looks so good whilst he's working out.

Football

- Things get steamy during a football match.

All The Good Girls Go To Hell

- You skip church because you’re horny for Billy.

Poor Max

- Max walks in on you and billy in an intimate position.

Shortcake

- Billy with a size kink.

Green Eyed Monster

- Carol doesn't like the fact that you've managed to charm your way into Hargrove's pants.

Queen Of Hawkins

- Billy is smitten with the dominant Queen of Hawkins.

Reward

- You decide to reward Billy for winning his last basketball match.

Lovely

- Billy finally makes love to the girl who saved him from falling down a dark hole after the events of last summer.

Bad Girl

- Trying BDSM with Billy.

Sweet Love

- Billy makes sweet love to you after a perfect proposal.

Take Things Slow

- Billy reflects back on his first time.

Scream My Name

- Billy doesn't like it when you're too shy.

His Damn Ego

- Billy and his damn ego.

So Needy

- Thigh riding with Billy.

The Little Things You Do

- The little things you do that rile Billy up.

Kinky Fucker

- A few of Billys kinks hehe.

Angst • ♧ •

Secrets

- Billy opens up to Y/N about about his father and finds out she's struggling with something similar.

Tire Screech

- You thought that Tom was all you had left but after meeting Billy you knew what you two had wasn’t love.

Liar

- The new kid Harrison likes you, but you're dating Billy so he decides to give you some ‘new’ information on Billy.

Bittersweet Symphony

- Billys always had this pent up frustration and anger within him which he's never known how to let out, until you show him your fathers old drum kit.

You’re an angel (Biracial! Reader)

- You want to meet Billys parents but he seems hesitant.

A Great Dad

- Billy will always protect his family.

Little Quirks

- Billy falls for the sweet girl who was once enraptured by Steve Harrington.

Im Sorry Angel

- Billys jealously could use some work.

I Really Fucking Like You Billy Hargrove

- Billy does something that he regrets, letting his temper get the best of him, resulting in you and him having an argument. However this just makes Billy even more angry and upsetting causing Max to have to help her brother out.

Don’t Come Near Her Again

- You boyfriend Colby hurt you again but Billy decides he won't stand for it.

‘For Y/N’

- Ever since your mothers seat you've felt numb, but Billys been there for you everyday, at exactly 4:30 pm to check up on you, until you’re ready.

Other • ★ / ♡ / ♧ •

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove masterlist

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brightsun-and-darkmidnight · 4 years ago

Text

Bonds

TITLE: Bonds

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 5 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki assuming your nephew is your son. He’s not totally wrong, though, since you’ve been the boy’s legal guardian for a couple of years now. Plus, you do play a convincing “mother” role. (more to the imagine in link)

RATING: M (Swearing, maybe some violence and MAYBE some smut)

NOTES/WARNINGS: Abandonment, adoption.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am sorry I haven’t posted anything fic related in a long time. I have been busy and life happens. But here is an update. 😊

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: 2,700ish

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Raelynn yawned loudly as the movie rolled into the credits.

“Past your bed time?” Tony jabbed.

She nodded, “Yeah. WAY past my bed time. In bed by nine.” She tapped into her phone for the time. “It’s freaking midnight. Oh god… I’m so going to need coffee.”

“Can’t stay up anymore?” Loki teased with a smile.

Raelynn grinned, “I feel like you now. Ancient and needing beauty sleep.”

“Hey!”

She giggled at his slightly offended but also highly amused face. It was nice to joke around with him again.

Clint spoke through a groan as he stood, “As long as we all have energy for Travis tomorrow that’s all that matters. I’m going to bed now.”

Natasha smiled, “Travis does have a lot of energy. Perhaps all of us should rest?”

Raelynn nodded, with yet another yawn. “Yeah we should get going. It was nice hanging out again. And, uhh. I guess I will see you all tomorrow?”

Tony went walking for the door to his lab. “Yep. Just let us know when you are on the way. I will be up preparing my latest lesson!”

Raelynn looked to the others who rolled their eyes. They all shared a look of amusement after though.

“Alright, I will see you all tomorrow. Let’s go Natasha.” Raelynn waved awkwardly and went to get her jacket and purse from the place Loki put them. She smiled to herself as she remembered how he helped her. She looked to Loki, who was debating with Thor about the nine realms and what they would talk about. She followed Natasha to the elevator.

Natasha smirked. “Did you like sitting next to Loki?”

Raelynn sighed heavily with a slight groan. “I guess I did.”

“Are you still unsure about getting Loki involved?”

“Well, yeah.” Raelynn was becoming annoyed with the frequent question.

Natasha shrugged, “Well. One day and step at a time.”

Raelynn watched Natasha with accusation. “Who’s idea was it so Loki and I would be placed together for the movie?”

“A bit of everyone’s. We all know of both sides. Before and after the adoption.”

Raelynn looked down and bit a dry flake off of her lip. “I know I was bad.”

Natasha leaned against the elevator wall. “Loki was… Well, Loki. Hid it well, but he was lost. He never knew what to do with his free time.”

Raelynn pushed herself against the opposite wall, staring at the door. Willing the elevator to hurry up, wishing to escape the conversation. “We spent every second with the other. I think leaving called for an adjustment. For both of us.”

“It was an adjustment for everyone.”

Raelynn chose not to say anything. Instead, playing the past in her mind.

Travis feared the situation, the screaming, the declarations of hate for her taking him from his family. Learning his likes and dislikes. Teaching herself how to be a care giver to a child. Finding doctors and schools. Trying to teach him not to hate his ability of talking to animals.

She remembered the constant headache from stress and anxieties. She had to give up her life, the life she might have had, and her dreams, to care for Travis. Her life was instantly altered to revolve around a little boy who was scared, alone, and unfamiliar. She remembers the few times of wanting to give up but with the connection of abandonment from family, she couldn’t and refused to give up on Travis. He was much younger than her when she was cast out.

Raelynn forced the thoughts away and pushed past the people in the lobby. Natasha keeping the pace with her to the car. She slammed the car door shut and stared out the window. Natasha was quiet for a little while.

“Thinking of the beginning again?”

Raelynn nodded, quickly wiping a tear away. “Yeah.”

Natasha sighed, “Look. You have done so well. Look at how things are now, how happy Travis is. He is well taken care of-all of his needs met, and most of his wants. He is spoiled but he knows how to appreciate everything. I cannot say that for many children.” Natasha was silent for a moment. “I know I said everyone went through an adjustment but I know you had it the hardest. It’s not fair what happened to you.”

Raelynn’s tears flowed without wanting them to. A strangled sob left her throat with the last of Natasha’s words. It was a relief someone knew her struggles but hearing it spoken made her heart ache with how unfair the blood bonds were. How unfair her life truly was.

Natasha rubbed her shoulder as comfort. “You’ve done more than I think I could handle.”

Raelynn looked to Natasha in shock. Natasha was who she admired most. She was capable of anything. Natasha adapted to everything extraordinarily quick.

“I bet you would handle it better.”

Natasha gave Raelynn a small smile filled with doubt. She looked to the road again, putting both hands on the steering wheel. “I can stay up for a dangerous situation, no problem. But loosing sleep for a child, at Travis’ age, that completely turned my life in a different way?” Natasha sighed roughly. “I’m not sure how I would handle that.”

Raelynn soaked up Natasha’s confession. It was strange hearing someone like her admitting to not being able to do something. “I will not lie and say it was easy.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

Natasha pulled into the driveway and both of them went into the house. Raelynn made tea for each of them and they made themselves comfortable on the couch. She tapped into the watches and Travis was asleep according to the stats.

“Thank you, Natasha. …I feel a little better.”

“Glad to hear that. Let’s try to get some sleep, Okay? It will probably be a very interesting day tomorrow.”

Raelynn made herself more comfortable by pulling the blanket over her shoulders. “Probably.”

Raelynn woke to Natasha making coffee. Tapping into the watch, it was a little past 7am and Travis was starting to wake up. Raelynn stretched and threw the blanket off of her, an attempt to instantly wake herself up with the chilled air.

“I am going to shower.” Raelynn waved to Natasha tiredly as she walked down the hallway.

“Coffee should be done soon.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Quickly scrubbing herself and refreshing with a clean scent she went to her bedroom with just a towel around her body. She sighed heavily looking at the outfit laid out on the bed. She yelled, “Really Natasha?” before shutting the door loudly. The outfit was a pair of light blue jeans, a black button up blouse that was obviously Natasha’s, black socks and the pair of boots she wore yesterday. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt the weird about the blouse, it didn’t look right. She went to Natasha and gestured to herself, “I can not pull of this top.”

Natasha smiled and a little chuckle. “Because it is supposed to be tucked in and leave the first few buttons undone.”

Raelynn rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Raelynn was happy to undo the first button and felt less constricted. She took the coffee that Natasha pushed her way across the counter and went to fix her hair into curls and light makeup. Her phone was ringing in the living room and she went to get it.

As soon as she answered Travis spoke, “I’m ready for you to pick me up!”

Raelynn smiled at Natasha who had a little smirk. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yep. Pancakes.”

“Alright, Brush your hair and teeth.”

“Done.”

Raelynn laughed a little. “Okay Kiddo. We will leave in a few minutes.”

“Okay! See you soon!”

“Bye-“

Natasha tilted her head a little with raised eyebrows, smirk on her lips. “I guess we better hurry.”

Raelynn went back to the bathroom to apply chap stick and look over herself. She felt a little more confident with her hair seeming to fall just right and her makeup was actually decent too. Going to her room to tuck the shirt in, it did look better tucked into the pants. She went to get her jacket as she shut off the lights on the way out.

“You look good.” Natasha nodded to herself and turned for the door, ready to leave.

Once close to the house, Raelynn updated Tony on an approximate time they would arrive.

Once picking up Travis, who practically ran out the door once they were there, they were on their way to the tower. He was excitedly talking through his first slumber party and night away. John’s mother did not lie when they had a lot planned. Travis was excited to be inside the tower and was in awe of how huge it was. He excitedly pressed the buttons for the elevators when prompted by Natasha.

Travis ran to Clint and gave him a big hug. “HI!”

Clint smiled with a groan, “you are getting strong kid. You miss me?”

Travis groaned as he was squeezed back. He pulled away and spoke sarcastically, “What do you think the hug was?”

Clint chuckled, “well I missed you too.”

Tony was there in the common room, band shirt and comfortable pants on. “Nice to meet you kid. -Wanna go to the roof?”

Travis looked to Raelynn and she shrugged with a smile. Then immediately nodded his head in excitement. Raelynn followed them and was immediately unsure of targets set up. Their was a safety area with a notepad and computer and an Ironman suit. Raelynn went to the computer and touched it. The information she received was a program set up for math but the targets were for subtraction, to literally be eliminated if the problem was solved correctly. More targets added for addition. The program written to make sure there were constant targets. Tony was apparently bored with the simplicity and added much more advanced math, Algebra, Trigonometry and whatnot.

Raelynn gave Tony a look of amusement. “How much sleep you get?”

“All of this? Only took a few hours, Jarvis did most of the work.” Tony waved for Travis to approach the table and made him sit in the main chair. “Let’s learn some stuff.”

Travis looked upset for a moment but saw the Ironman suit. He pointed to it, “does it involve that?”

Tony smiled a little, “Maaaybe.”

Raelynn observed Travis while Tony helped him through a problem, then let Travis put the answer in the computer. The Ironman suit shot three of the targets and made Travis jump in excitement.

“LET’S DO MORE!”

Raelynn laughed with Clint and Natasha.

Bruce came to the roof and chuckled nervously, “Tony is actually teaching Travis?”

Raelynn smiled at Bruce. “Yes. Travis is extremely excited about this.”

Bruce nodded. “Well I suppose as long as he is excited and learning that is what matters.”

Thor and Loki and Steve came up as well.

Steve crossed his arms, “are we sure blowing things up is appropriate for learning?”

Raelynn shrugged. “So long as Travis is safe, I don’t mind too much. I can barely get him to sit down and attempt math and here he is, actually trying to do it.”

With another answer correct more targets were added. Then Travis was scribbling down things and showed Tony who shrugged and told Travis to try. Then most of the targets were destroyed with different poses of the Ironman suit. Travis cheered excitedly and high-fived Tony.

Raelynn smiled at Loki, catching him staring. “Good morning. How are you?”

Loki gestured to Travis and Tony. “Amused.”

Raelynn nodded and tried to hide her huge smile as they cheered again. “Same.”

Thor went to Travis with his booming voice, “Let me try! I wish to teach the boy things as well.”

Raelynn looked to Thor oddly but spoke to the others, “Is this some sort of contest?”

Clint shrugged, “Thor is just excited. Asgard apparently does not have many children.”

Raelynn spoke softly, “Oh.”

Loki spoke up, “children are highly prized on Asgard. They are celebrated since infertility is common and many rituals take place for successful pregnancy.”

Raelynn observed the way Loki was watching Travis. He seemed to be excited Travis was there but concern as well. She wondered what was actually going on in Loki’s mind.

Loki was worried that something might go wrong with Tony’s lesson. He agreed with Steve about it being a concern.

Travis was obviously important to Raelynn, so Travis was important to Loki as well.

Children were far more common on Midgard than Asgard but that did not make them less cherished.

Thor’s evolving relationship with Jane was taking the route of long term goals. Thor has stated his thoughts of marriage with Jane once in the past month but also mentioned the lack of Odin’s approval. The lack of Odin’s approval was obviously there but Frigga was more than happy to listen about Jane on their visits.

Or rather, check ins for Loki.

Loki knew he was in the same situation as Thor.

In love with a Midgardian and Odin did not approve.

Loki looked at Raelynn, he noticed the shirt was Natasha’s. It was a nice look for Raelynn but he knew it was the spy's intention for Loki to notice Raelynn put effort into her appearance. The group has always wanted them together and it seemed no different now.

However, Travis was in Raelynn’s picture now which meant there was another as well..

Perhaps, since the team did not bring her up for the longest time was because she was involved with someone. The thought alone broke his heart but the ache was worse since she did not tell him.

However, the team was putting active efforts into involving Raelynn and finding ways for them to be together.

Perhaps, Travis’ father was no longer involved?

Maybe Loki had a chance?

Raelynn glanced at him and Loki realized he was staring at her.

He smiled at her and she gave a small one in return.

“Are there other subjects Travis has issues with?”

He watched her eyes narrow slightly confirming what just blurted out of his mouth was in fact, an insult.

Loki rushed with an explanation. “I was just wondering what other subjects were needing further expansion. -Or maybe something new. ..Perhaps?”

She seemed to calm significantly as Loki struggled with words. Smiling, “He loves new knowledge on animals. Anything about animals he is fascinated with. His ability has a major impact on his vast knowledge.”

Loki smiled at the mention of his ability, happy Travis inherited something from Raelynn. “A great ability.”

Raelynn’s smile remained but something danced in her eyes for a moment. “Yes.” She smiled hearing Travis cheer, turning to see the suit aiming at the targets and effectively destroying them. She turned back to Loki as she pointed towards Travis, “He likes this!” She laughed with joy. “I’m happy he is actually excited about math for once.”

Loki couldn’t help the smile as Travis cheered and excitedly took his spot to do the work for another problem. “Tony certainly had this in mind for a child. The poses of the suit are….”

“Dramatic?”

Loki laughed, “there is a word to describe them.”

Raelynn’s eyes shifted slightly as she tapped into electronics.

---

Raelynn’s alarm went off for the lunch reminder. It was important Travis was fed regularly, other wise he became angry. Irritation to rival Hulk.

She turned completely to shout at them. “Travis, are you hungry?”

“No. I wanna do more problems!”

Raelynn smiled, honestly happy he was into the lesson. “The next subtraction problem you are done,” he groaned dramatically but Raelynn finished, “until you eat.”

#bonds #brightsun-and-darkmidnight #chapter 5 #loki

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

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Marco’s Home for Lost Boys

Read on AO3 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Notes:

Thank you all for continuing to read my little fic. Posting one more chapter as my Christmas gift to everyone reading. Will post again after the holiday!

Tagging:

@lfh1226-linda

Chapter Three: High School Sucks

5 years later

“Will, would you get out of the bathroom! We’re going to be late.” Emma kicks the door in front of her.

“What is the reason for all the yelling this early in the morn?” Killian’s door swings open behind her and he steps out, his hair standing on end. He’s wearing his boxers and nothing else and Emma isn’t sure why she’s so annoyed or so freaking warm.

Is the heat on in here?

“Geez Jones, I see no one cares about being punctual.” Her eyes roll and he steps toward her, her temperature rising from anger or the fact that his hands are now on either side of her body as she feels her back hit the door.

His lips are upturned in that infernal smirk he so often tosses her way. “Well, I don’t have to catch the bus, now do I, love.”

Emma groans. “You’re really going to make me take the bus on my first day of high school?”

He looks her up and down, his eyes narrowing. “You aren’t wearing that to school, are you?” he says with an air of disgust.

She looks down at the flowered button up shirt and skinny jeans she is wearing and rolls her eyes at him. Sure, it’s not the large sweatshirt and baggy pants she usually wears but it’s her first day of high school, she wants to at least attempt to look different.

He’s still staring down at her shirt, his tongue darting out to skim over his bottom lip before finally looking up as blue eyes meet hers. “Besides I certainly don’t think showing up with a freshman on the back of my bike is good form. Being a senior comes with certain...” he pauses, “perks that I do not intend lose.”

“He means lady perks.” She catches her balance as the door holding her upright swings open and Will chimes in behind her with a large smile on his face, finally emerging from their bathroom.

“Ugh. Gross.” Emma rolls her eyes. She pushes past Will and slams the bathroom door in his face.

“Bloody hell, I wasn’t done in there.” Will slams his fist against the wooden door.

“Trust me, Belle will still think you look idiotic no matter how much time you spend in here.” She yells toward the door.

“Yeah well… you’re a… a jerk.” He spits.

“Lame response, Will.” She smiles in the mirror as she hears her brother stomp down the hallway toward his room.

Emma’s lips turn downward as she stares at her reflection. She was starting high school this year; she should be excited and ready for a new adventure. But Emma wasn’t sure she was ready for what high school came with.

Boys.

Emma avoided boys. Having 5 brothers around generally meant that boys were scared of her anyway. None of them even looked her in the eyes.

But what was worse was dealing with the girls who would kiss her ass when her brothers were around but treat her like dirt the minute their affections were gone.

She sighed one last time, tugging the brush down her blonde locks. “Ok Emma, you can do this.” She adjusts the straps on her bra. Uncomfortable with the way it fit across her growing breasts.

She glared at herself and then faked a smile before opening the door to the hall.

“Hey Princess, you need a ride to school?” David passed her a plate of waffles and continued down the hall to the dining room.

“Why thank you David, at least someone in this house cares about my wellbeing on my first day of high school.” She glares in Killian’s direction as she sits across from him at the table to devour her breakfast.

“Some of us have a reputation to uphold.” He states with a bow of his head.

“What he means is that taking his little sister on his bike won’t cause the pants to fall off of Mil….” Will is cut short when Killian punches him in the arm. “Ow, you arse.” Will furiously rubs at his shoulder.

“Boys. Watch your language.” Emma smiles toward her father as he enters from the kitchen. “And everyone is keeping their pants on.”

Killian suddenly pushes back from his chair. “I’m going to school.”

“Wow early on the first day, doesn’t seem like you, Jones.” Emma teases.

“You’ll find I can be very surprising, love.” He teases, pulling the door shut behind himself. She can hear the roar of his bike as he tears down the driveway.

Killian parked his bike behind the school bleachers, latching his helmet to the bike and turning to unzip his leather jacket.

“Prompt as usual.” Her icy voice was in his ear quickly before he turned and dragged her into his arms.

“Only for you, love.” His lips met hers in a fury.

“So eager today, Killy.” She giggled as her hands glided into his jacket, wrapping around his back.

“Let’s just skip today.” He groaned into her mouth.

“I wish I could, but I can’t miss the first day, my dad will have my ass.” She sighed. “But I’ll see you after school, right?”

Killian stared down at the dark-haired girl in his arm. His Milah. They had been secretly seeing each other all summer. Milah didn’t want her dad to know about their “relationship” and had requested that they continue things in secret. Killian had agreed only because being with her was like an addiction to him. He couldn’t bear to tell her no for anything.

“As you wish.” He whispered into her hair.

“It might feel overwhelming at first, but you two will get used to it.” David pulls into the school parking lot and Emma gulps seeing everyone milling about the lawn.

“And if you need anything, just find me.”

She tells herself she’s not looking for him, but she finds herself trying to find Killian’s bike. She’s not surprised to see it’s not in the lot. She didn’t expect that he was actually heading to school early. He’d been extra moody over the summer, sneaking off in the afternoon and breaking curfew by the time he arrived home at night. She had heard more than her fair share of father/son “discussions” between him and Marco when they thought everyone was in bed.

She knew that Marco disapproved of whoever he suspected Killian was running off with each night.

“I’m not saying she’s bad, boy. I’m just saying to be careful with your heart.” Her father was speaking softly on the back porch.

“No one is ever good enough.” Killian scoffed.

“My boy, no one is ever good enough for any of my children. You are all perfect to me in every way. My heart aches to see any of you in despair.”

“Despair, now aren’t you being a tad overdramatic old man?”

“Killian, my boy, you are always searching for the wrong things.”

“Don’t.” His harsh voice cut the man off.

Her father sighed loudly. “You won’t find what you are looking for in this girl.”

“Well, why don’t you let me concern myself that.”

His bike came into view as it tore down the dirt road that led to the football field and she heard Will chuckle from the back seat. “Back of the school, eh. Oh yeah, he’s gonna have top marks this year.”

David frowned. “Shut it Will.” He turned toward her, “Good luck today.”

“I’m good dad!” She joked as she slung her bag on her shoulders and headed toward the lawn.

“EMMA!” She turned as Belle came running toward her.

“Belle, so good to see a face I recognize.” The girl gave her a quick hug before rolling her eyes as Will got out of the back of the car.

“Hello Belle. Looking beautiful.” Will whistled with clear admiration toward the dark-haired girl between them.

“Hello, Bug.” She taunted, her eyes glaring as they traveled down his frame.

“I love that you’ve given me a pet name.” He gushed.

“Still the same Will.” She grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her toward the other students.

“Do you know what today is?” she beamed?

“Monday?”

“Emma, today is the day that we get to hang out with older boys!”

“Oh.” Emma shifted uncomfortably. “I guess.”

She felt Will press up against her back. “Ems not allowed to talk to older boys.”

“Are you still here, Bug?” Belle spit.

“Can’t get rid of me, love.” He grinned.

“Eventually I will find a way.” She turned back toward Emma. “Oh my god Emma, Graham is staring at you like you are made of Chocolate.”

“Chocolate?” Will screeched.

“Will, get lost.” Emma yelled as she shoved Will toward the front door. She looked up to see Graham approaching them.

“Hey Em, you look um, different.” He was clearly staring at her chest. “Good different.” He cooed.

“Uh. Yeah um, can’t wear sweatpants forever I guess.” She shyly stared down at her hands.

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around now that we share the same halls.” He nudged her shoulder with his and she giggled. Her nerves starting to get the best of her. She’d known the Sheriff’s son for years, but he’d never paid her this much attention. Graham wasn’t exactly her type, but he was definitely cute. And he was a senior who was currently looking at her with an eager look in his eyes.

“Graham.” Killian approached the group, stepping between her and the boy who was eyeing her intensely.

“Jones.” Graham replied with a layer of disgust.

She felt Killian drape an arm around her shoulder and she rolled her eyes as she tried to push away from him, his hands instead tightening and pulling her against his side.

“You should probably go find your classroom, Sis.” He said between clinched teeth.

Really, sis? He was being infuriating.

“Come on Belle, I feel like my freedom is calling.” She shoved his hand off her arm and took off toward the school. She paused, turning back toward Graham. “See ya round later?” She questioned with a soft voice.

He perked up quickly, “Uh yeah definitely.”

Meeting a pair of angry blue eyes, she smirked and turned back toward the school, grabbing Belle’s arm and pushing them forward.

Maybe high school was going to be more fun than she thought.

High school was definitely NOT more fun than she thought.

Between getting lost trying to find her next class, forgetting the combination to her locker three times, and spilling soda down her shirt at lunch, she was absolutely ready to go home.

Instead, she found herself in the bathroom, trying to clean her shirt between classes when she looked up to see a familiar girl coming out of the stall behind her. She’d seen her with Killian during the summer, but he had refused to talk about her at all, saying she was just a girl from school.

“Your Emma, right?” The girl asked. She had really long legs and dark hair that curled lightly down her back. She was gorgeous.

“Uh yeah.”

“Bad day?” She cooed, pointing at her shirt.

“Uh soda, I’m a bit clutzy.” She turned toward her. “Do I know you?”

“Milah.” She stated, not looking at her. “I know your big brother.”

“I have 5, so you’ll need to be more specific than that.”

“Tall, dark, and brooding.”

“Ah. Killian. Well, he’s not exactly my brother.” She didn’t know why she said that. Why had she felt the need to point that out? She’d always called them her brothers. It had never mattered that they weren’t actually related.

“Well, Killy told me his baby sister was starting high school this year, I figured that was you.” Annoyance was the first emotion she felt.

“And now we’ve met.” She shut off the water and spun around to grab the paper towels, drying off her shirt, rubbing the fabric furiously. “Nice to meet you.” She grabbed the handle and pushed through the door, her face colliding with leather.

“Bad form love, at least watch where you are going.” She groaned looking up into blue eyes.

“You always lurk outside the ladies room?” His hand went to the back of his ear as he scratched.

“Lurk?” He stated with an offensive tone. “Do you always throw yourself at innocent men standing in a hallway?” He looked down at her shirt, his eyes growing wide.

“Swan! What the devil did you do to your shirt? You can’t walk around with that…that thing showing through your clothes.” He went to remove his jacket slinging it over her arms and pulling it around her chest.

“She looked down at her lace bra, now clearly visible through her shirt. “What are you doing?” She pulled away from him. “Would you stop acting like an idiot.” She shrugged the jacket off her shoulders and slammed it against his chest.

“I’m not your baby sister so you can just stop acting like an overprotective brother, Killy!” She turned before he could respond and stomped down the hall, her arms hugging her chest protectively.

Killian smirked as Emma stormed off down the hall. Immediately glaring at two boys standing at the lockers beside him who began talking about Emma’s ass as she rounded the corner.

Keeping Emma away from these vile horny high school boys was going to be harder than he thought this year. She’d grown up over the summer whether he wanted her to or not.

He had been annoyed when she rid herself of her usual sweatpants and oversized shirts and refused Marco’s attempts to take her school shopping, opting instead to have Ruby assist her in her new school wardrobe.

Ruby Lucas! The girl who thought dressing down meant wearing cotton panties instead of lace under her miniskirts!

Suddenly sweatpants were replaced with skinny jeans that clung to her frame and that damn silk lace bra contraption that enhanced the growing breasts she had hidden behind those large shirts.

He was going to have to do something about Emma Swan. Especially after seeing that irritating Humbert staring at her this morning. Graham and Killian had never seen eye to eye. It didn’t help that Graham was headed to the police academy at the end of the year and most likely destined to take over as Sheriff one day when his dad stepped down.

Graham was Storybrooke’s golden boy. He got everything he pointed at and anything he wished for. And from the looks Humbert was giving Emma this morning, he was pointing more than just his eyes in her direction!

“Penny for your thoughts.” He turned to see Milah stepping toward him.

“What do women do in the bathroom that takes so bloody long?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She winked as he followed her down the hall toward their next class or perhaps the next janitor’s closet he could drag her into.

“Dammit.” Emma slammed her fist against her locker as her combination failed once more that day.

“Careful there slugger.” She heard a voice behind her. She spun around to meet the stranger’s eyes. His hair was tucked into a beanie with tufts of brown locks sticking out around his face.

“Look buddy, unless you can open this locker, I’m not in the mood.”

He stepped around her, punched the corner of the door, jiggled the lock, and yanked the door open.

“Oh my God how did you do that?” She exclaimed as he extended his hand in her direction.

“Neal Cassidy, at your service.”

Notes:

Here comes Neal. If you are a fan of Neal, maybe this won't be the fic for you!

#my fic #Marco's home for lost boys #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian swan

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dianapana · 5 years ago

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SasuHina Month 2020- Day 12

Prompt-I almost had you

Hello guys, today’s story is very dear to me. This is one of the AUs I think about most, I have the whole story thought out but I can never write it as I want it to be sadly. This is an alternative ending to said AU. Angst Warning. I hope you enjoy it, to be fair, this one I wrote for myself. I hope someday I’ll be able to write the story I have in my head and share it with you all as well. Love and kisses ~ Dia

She was slipping through my fingers like running silver. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t hold onto her. Hinata looked up at me with tears running down her face as her hand slowly slipped away; she was calm despite the tears. "Goodbye" she whispered and fell away. I would never forgive myself for not being strong enough, fast enough. My chakra was gone and I could not summon up any power to help her; I simply watched her fall and fall until I could no longer see her. She was still falling.

I had returned for her to the village; and now I didn’t wish to go back. Everything in my body hurt and for the first time in a long time I felt lost and broken. The thought of simply letting myself fall too was more and more appealing by the second. What made me finally decide to follow thought was the sound of her body finally hitting the ground. The sound of her bones breaking and of her dying. I looked to the direction of the village. There was nothing left for me there; all these times no matter how bad the situation was I had at least her to look forward to. Now I didn't. I looked to the sky to apologize to every Uchiha that ever was. "I am taking our kind with me. This bloodline ends here" I said to them and crawled closer to the edge. I turned around just in time to see Naruto run towards me; he too was beaten up but he could still move. But he was too late she had died and I would to. I gave him a nod and let myself go. I heard him shouting after me. For a moment I was scared he’d follow. I already killed too many people I loved, I wished he’d survive. He could take care of Konoha as Itachi wanted. He could save the ninja world. And I? I would finally be with her. We wouldn’t have to hide; we wouldn’t have to tiptoe around each other.

I was falling peacefully when the notion of heaven and hell hit me. She would go to heaven where she deserved to be...but I? I would end up in hell. Even in death we couldn’t be together. Once again, I was feeling like she was slipping through my fingers. I was always so close; but never close enough to have her, really have her.

I thought about our meeting all those years ago, she was in the forest alone, crying, bloody and naked. We were 12 and I took her to the hospital. We met years later and she confessed to hating me, she wanted to die there but I saved her and condemned her to a life of hurt and hate. She had never healed from what happened to her, instead of helping her heal they forced her to pretend nothing had happened. They told her to shup up and move on. And she did, she moved on from being scared to being angry to being numb. They had forced her to kill all and every little innocence she had left.

They had made her callous, forced her to isolate herself and when she did, they wanted her to turn back to being soft and pure. All her life they had expected things of her that she could never reach. Even when they tried to bring her up they put her down. When sweet words and ‘encouragement’ didn’t get their point across they turned to force. They forced her into the mold they thought she should be in. They didn’t allow her to go on doing her solo Ambu missions because they were dangerous and she was weak in their eyes, broken. They ordered her to stay back and be a sensei to children; they gave her tasks that could not and would not be up to her standards. They put her in a cage and tied her wings together because in their eyes she was flying too close to the sun.

They had killed her.

Hinata was beautiful and strong; she never judged me, she loved me. But they never allowed her to show this new self of hers. For them, the moment she changed after the incident on her 12th birthday, she had stopped being what they wanted her to be. They wanted her to be sweet and a sensei, they wanted her to be soft spoken and agreeable to everything they said. But she was an Ambu that did as she pleased; for a while we were both happy.

She’d go on her solo missions and let me know ahead of time where and when and I’d follow her everywhere. We’d finish her mission early on and spent the rest of the allocated time together in our own world. Then she’d return to the village and the circle would start again. Until they decided being an Ambu was too much for her and forced her into submission.

Instead of getting a letter with the time and place to meet she had sent me two words ‘Abord mission’. I wasn’t sure how to react to her letter so I did the only thing I could think of, I followed her once again. I went back to the village, I tried to make the best out of that situation but she was getting more and more frustrated and angry towards the village. Hiata demanded a mission but she didn’t get her wish. Instead Naruto and I were sent on an S mission, dangerous enough that both of us were needed. Hinata followed. And that’s how we ended up there, she was dead I was falling to my death and Naruto would return alone.

They pushed her and were sure she wouldn’t push back. But she did and it ended up killing her. I looked up to were Naruto was but I couldn’t see him anymore, any moment then I would hit the ground and it would be done and over, but instead I fell on something wet and soft. Naruto had summoned a frog and I had landed on its tongue. The frog jumped once not even allowing me to look for her body.

She was slipping thought my fingers again. I couldn’t help the tears in my eyes. The frog landed next to Naruto and disappeared immediately, I assume because Naruto too had lost most of his chakra and couldn’t hold the summon for long.

“You should have let me go” I said and Naruto looked at me exhausted. He didn’t know Hinata followed us nor that she had died. He didn’t know I couldn’t save her and that he was too late.

“I’m never going to let my friends die. You should know that by now” Naruto lacked his enthusiasm and the smugness he always had after saving someone.

“Then you failed today” I told him and looked to the edge. “You’ve already lost two people today” his blue eyes turned to me with worry. Hinata had died and she took me with her. Naruto might have saved my body but I died with her. I didn’t tell him that, despite how much I’ve thought to myself that she died I couldn’t utter those words. For a while he stood there looking worried and I kept staring to the edge almost expecting Hinata to bonce back on a frog much like I did. But she didn’t.

I looked to Naruto; he was one of them. One of the people that tried to dictate her life. After Neji died Naruto felt guilty and tried ‘fixing’ Hinata. They all had this image of her in their head that she just didn’t meet so they tried to force her to fit it. And then there was nothing left to mold, for she was gone.

“Hinata died.” I said out loud, the words felt wrong. I could never grieve her in public, people would doubt me, nobody would believe me if I told them that for the past 5 years Hinata had been my one and only source of happiness and I was hers. Nobody would know just how tragic and monumental her death was for me. They’d all cry and talk about her as they wanted. After spending their whole lives trying to change her, they’d remember her as they wanted her to be. Hinata died twice that day, once her body and then her memory. She would never be remembered as she was, only as they made her out to be.

I almost had her for myself so many times but the world never allowed her or me to be happy. We were unlucky that way. Naruto was looking at the edge too not really understanding what I said. No one would. Not really.

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echo-bleu · 5 years ago

Text

By The Sword

Malex Musketeers AU. I’m reposting this little series here (from AO3) ahead of the @alterarnm fic I’m hoping to finish by Thursday (movie fusion, though it’s a show). This was originally written for the Whumptober prompt “Stab Wound” but it also fits with today’s theme “Pre-1900s”.

Alex barely makes it all the way to the garrison before he collapses. He falls to his knees the moment he's inside the large doors, with no energy left in him to make it to his quarters.

“Captain!” someone calls out. “Liz! Maria! The Captain's back, and he's injured!”

“Alex!” This time it's Maria's worried voice. Alex feels her crouch beside him. “Alex, what's wrong? Where are you hurt?”

“Shoulder,” he murmurs. Maria gently pries his hand away from the wound on the inside of his left shoulder, not far above his heart, and hisses.

“Alex, you got stabbed?” she asks. “Kyle, get over here!”

“Alex!” Liz calls, joining them.

“I'm okay,” Alex murmurs, trying to stand back up.

“No you're not,” Maria says. “You have a stab wound and you've lost a lot of blood. Now how about you let us get you to bed?”

Alex just nods and relents. Liz slings his right arm around her shoulders and pulls him up. Alex tries not to put too much of his weight on her, but between the bloodloss and his leg, he's unable to stand under his own power. Liz supports him without flinching, though. She may be short, but she's stronger than she looks−otherwise she would never have made it through Musketeer training.

Maria stays on the other side for balance, though she doesn't touch his arm. Alex is grateful for that, because he almost passed out the last time he tried to move his shoulder. The three-hour ride back to the garrison has been hell.

Kyle, the garrison's doctor, joins them halfway to Alex's quarters, his medical bag in hands. He helps Liz lower Alex onto his bed and immediately starts removing Alex's leathers.

“Your shirt isn't salvageable, but these can be cleaned,” he says, handing them off to Maria. “Good leather is pricey.”

“Kyle, no offense, but we don't really care about his uniform right now,” Liz says, annoyed. “How about the wound?”

“Get me some water to clean it out, and I'll tell you!” Kyle rolls his eyes.

Alex only barely follows the conversation, exhausted. He grits his teeth as Kyle runs a wet cloth on the partially scabbed wound.

“It's not life-threatening, as long as it doesn't get infected,” Kyle diagnoses. “But it definitely needs stitches.”

Alex winces. He expected it, but it's never fun. He's had his fair share of injuries over the years−more than his fair share, actually, since an infected wound took his right leg in the last war. Everyone expected him to retire then, or at least retire from the field, as he'd just been made Captain, but he got thoroughly bored of desk work after a week, and Liz and Maria were simply not as good a team without him. So he worked his ass off to get back on his feet and train to fight with his new prosthetic, and within less than a year, they were the best Musketeer team of all Antar again.

Liz hands him a glass. “Bourbon,” she says. “You're going to need it.”

Alex nods his thanks. He barely has time to swallow the drink before Kyle digs into his injury, checking for dirt, and he arches back, biting back a scream. Liz offers him a cloth to bite onto.

“I'm going to bind your arm to your chest for now so you don't tear the stitches,” Kyle says when he's done with the stitching. By then, Alex is exhausted and covered in sweat, so he doesn't protest. His leg has definitively cured him of his tendency to take injuries lightly, anyway.

He gestures to his leg, which is painful and raw after the abuse it took today. “You want me to remove it?” Liz asks. Alex nods.

“So, who was it this time?” Maria asks, while Liz pulls of his boot and works on the latch of his prosthetic.

“My father's men, who else,” Alex answers tiredly. “But they had someone else with them, I couldn't see his face.”

He could swear he recognized his stance, though. But it's impossible. The man it belonged to is long dead. But the way he ducked left, right before plunging his blade into Alex's shoulder…

Alex doesn't know many people who can fight that well. He's one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, even now, and this person bested him like he already knew all his tricks.

He ponders on that for a long time, after the other file out of his room. He's spent but restless, the pain preventing him from sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. He can't find a comfortable position to lie in. His free hand keeps going to the pendant around his neck, as his thoughts wander. He traces the gold ring, and then the medallion, without opening it.

Why did this man, cloaked and hooded, remind him so much of the man he once almost married?

He swipes at his eyes before the tears can fall, angry with himself for letting his thoughts take him there. Of course that man wasn't Michael: Michael has been dead for ten years. The anniversary is coming up, Alex realizes. He died the day their wedding was set to take place, a reflection of his father's twisted mind. Ten years, in less than a week. Maybe that's why Michael was on his mind so much today.

Sitting up, Alex decides he's done lying in bed. He can be careful of his arm and still make himself useful. Putting his prosthetic and his boots back on is hell with only one hand, but he manages after a few minutes. He rummages his chest for a clean shirt and pulls it over his head awkwardly, leaving the left sleeve empty as his arm is strapped to his chest.

“Alex!” Liz exclaims from the courtyard, when she sees him coming down the stairs. “You shouldn't be out of bed yet!”

“I'm fine,” Alex says. “Don't worry, I'll be careful.” He knows Liz is just as scared as he is of him getting another infection, but he really wants to shake off her concern. This whole business has put him in an awful mood, and the fact that he's light-headed from bloodloss and in pain doesn't make it better. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“The king requested us to escort his children tomorrow back from the summer palace,” Liz says.

Alex sighs. “Are we on babysitting duty again?”

The twin prince and princess, Max and Isobel, who are about Alex's age, aren't really as annoying as children, but they tend to scoff at having bodyguards, and regularly ignore the Musketeers' safety requests. They like to travel a lot, especially between the royal houses all over the country, and the king has taken to requesting his best Musketeers to guard them since the latest threats on their lives, even though it should be a job for his royal Guard. But everyone knows Valenti's Musketeers are better fighters than Manes' Red Guard, especially with Alex Manes at their command. Something that angers his father to no end.

“They're not that bad,” Liz shrugs. “You won't be going anyway, you're injured.”

“And you're not saying that at all because you have a crush on Prince Max,” Maria interjects, handing Alex a bowl of soup as he sits at the table. “How are you feeling?” she adds to Alex.

“I'm okay,” Alex says. “Just sore.”

“You're the one who keeps flirting with Princess Isobel,” Liz retorts to Maria. “What, you thought I hadn't noticed?”

Alex shakes his head at his friends' antics. They've been inseparable ever since he first joined the Musketeers. They're the best of friends in every situation, funny and supportive. With them, he even forget, sometimes, the life he left behind.

“What's got you so worked up?” Maria asks, and Alex realizes he's gotten lost in his thoughts again. His hand has made its way to his pendant against his will, and Liz and Maria are both giving him knowing look.

Over the years, they've become really good at gauging his moods, and especially at noticing when he's taken by bouts of melancholy. He's never told them anything of his former life, and he doesn't intend to, but they know which subjects to avoid.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just...I hate being injured.”

“We know,” Liz says, putting her hand on his arm. “But you still need to rest up, okay?”

“I know,” Alex sighs. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone march up to them. “And I guess it's time for me to report,” he adds, standing up to welcome Commander Valenti. “Commander.”

The woman looks him up and down with severe eyes.

“Captain. Who did you piss off this time?”

Six days later, Alex is in the foulest mood. He's been dreading this anniversary for months, and it's proving as bad as he thought it would be. Everything is going wrong. His arm still isn't healed enough to use, now resting in a sling, so he's been on desk duty for the last few days, and he's remembering exactly why he hates it. And then, whether the effect of his injury or simply the time of the year, the nightmares started. The anniversary of the day he lost his fiance and the day he lost his leg are just two days apart, and it's always a bad time for him, filled with alcohol and fevered dreams.

His team is set to spend the day at the palace again, and this time the King specifically asked for his favorite Musketeer despite his injury. Alex doesn't understand why, but as he's not bed-bound, he has no choice but to obey. He hoped to be able to take the day off and drink the pain away, but the universe is against him. To top it off, both his shoulder and his leg are killing him, and he's forced to ask an aid to hold his horse's reins on the way to the palace, because he barely has enough balance to keep himself on the saddle.

“Come on,” Liz tries to motivate him, as he mopes on his horse. “It's going to be okay. There's to be some kind of celebration planned, for some noble guy who just came to court.”

“That's usually not good news,” Alex remarks. “Means we'll have to be twice as vigilant.”

“Leave that to us,” Maria says, bringing her horse to his other side. “Just because the King requested you doesn't mean you should overtax yourself.”

“My father will be there,” Alex sighs.

“And you can't help showing off your Musketeers in front of him, in hope that he'll acknowledge your accomplishments someday. Alex, you don't need him. Everyone knows you're better than him.”

“He's still the Prime Minister, and he has the King's ear. He could have me executed if the fancy took him to see me gone.”

“The King loves you far too much for that,” Liz says. “That's why your father is reduced to sending his Reg Guards to fight his battles and try to off you in a skirmish.”

Alex sighs and readjusts his sling. “We're here,” he says.

As usual, the day at the palace involves a lot of waiting around and standing guard, far more than Alex's leg should really be put through today. But sitting in front of the Royal Family is simply unthinkable. He watches Prince Max and Princess Isobel, lounging in comfortable armchairs under a canopy, with envy and a twinge of resentment.

“Who's this?” Liz asks him, midway through the day. She discreetly points to a man on the other side of the canopy. He's wearing red like the Red Guards, but his uniform is richer and perfectly clean, and his stance isn't that of a guard. He has a hood over his head, hiding his hair and his face. Alex frowns. Someone who can get away with hiding his identity in the middle of a royal event must be high-ranking, probably from the Royal Family, but he can't think of who that could be.

“Watch him closely,” he tells Liz. There's also the option that he's an imposter.

He's not. Minutes after Liz notices him, the man approaches the canopy at a sign from the King. The king stands up, and everyone immediately stops talking.

“I would like to introduce to the court my natural son, Michael,” the King says, one hand on the man's shoulder. Alex feels his breathing pick up, like his body has already figured out what his brain refuses to understand.

The mysterious man reaches up and removes his hood.

“Thank you, my King,” he says, kneeling quickly. “I have lived my whole life in the shadows, and I will go back to a modest life as soon as my purpose is complete. I have come to court for one reason only: to challenge Captain Alex Manes of the Musketeers to a formal duel.”

Alex gapes. Liz and Maria rally around him, confused. “What?” Liz frowns.

Michael stands back up, and turns to look straight at Alex. It feels like a punch to his gut.

“But why? Alex, do you know him?” Liz presses in a murmur. The court is getting agitated, the announcement raising eyebrows. A King introducing a natural-born son to give out a title and a land is not uncommon, but for that son to challenge the Captain of the Musketeers? That's unheard of.

“Yes,” Alex mutters, still in shock.

“Who is he?” Liz asks.

“Michael was my fiance,” Alex says. “My dead fiance.”

“What?”

“He can't be alive,” Alex breathes. “It's not possible. He was hanged because of me.”

Liz looks about to shake him, but she's interrupted by Michael raising his hands. “Do you accept?” he shouts across the space between them.

“But he's injured!” Maria shouts back.

“No,” Alex says, squaring his shoulders and taking a step forward. “Reparations are deserved. I will duel you. Choose your field of honor.”

He meets Michael's eyes for a moment, and the emotions are almost too much to keep inside. Alex feels like he's going to burst. Michael is alive. The man he's missed so much that he would have ended his life, had the Musketeers not given him a purpose again.

Michael takes a step back and looks toward the King, who nods.

“You will duel here,” he says. “The two of you are likely the best swordsmen in my kingdom. This should be entertaining. Please refrain from killing each other, though. Although my court may well be bloodthirsty enough to enjoy the show, I have uses for both of you.”

Michael bows deeply, and Alex scrambles to do the same. His leg gives out of under him, and Liz has to hold him up as he straightens again.

“Elizabeth and Maria will serve as my seconds,” he says when he's balanced again, waving at his friends. “Who are yours?”

“Oh, I was hoping for sweet Maria,” Michael tilts his head. “Are you as good with the sword as you are in bed?”

Alex looks at Maria in shock.

“I didn't know who he was,” she whispers hurriedly. “It was just a drunken hookup.”

“I know Michael,” Alex murmurs back. “He's a charmer alright, but he didn't approach you by chance. He was fishing for information.”

Maria frowns in anger. “I'll stay with my friends, thank you,” she shouts across the field.

“Then, will my King allow his daughter to second me?” Michael asks, bowing respectfully. “Obviously the heir cannot risk a hair on his head,” he adds with a smirk to Max.

“Did you have to make me second choice?” Isobel whines.

“You can never be a second choice, dear sister,” Michael assures.

It's only then, that the King's proclamation from earlier makes it to Alex's brain. Michael is the King's son. How is it possible? A man who came to him poor and alone, with no family and no name, is the King's bastard? A man, as he discovered, convicted and branded for thievery?

Did Michael know his heritage, back when they were together? Did he hide that from Alex, too?

For the first time today, Alex looks over to the chair to Max's right, a little to the back, where his father sits. Jesse Manes gives him back an enigmatic look. Alex has no way to know if he knew about this, if he knew that Michael was alive and who he was this whole time. He closes his eyes in dismay.

“I will allow it,” the King says. “Now prepare yourself.”

“Alex,” Liz shakes his good shoulder. “Are you sure you can do this? You don't look good.”

“I'll be fine,” Alex says. He doesn't know if that's true. He's the one who taught Michael to fence, and even back then, he was amazingly good at it. God only knows how much he's improved in the last ten years. And he's able-bodied and uninjured, while Alex can barely stay on his feet.

He's read to be beaten, though. It's only what he deserves.

He removes his sling, keeping his left arm close to his body. It's useless, but he needs to be able to move for balance. He gives Maria his hat and his blue uniform cape, and draws his sword. He'll give Michael a run for his money, if nothing else. Michael has always enjoyed the challenge.

Trying not to limp too much, Alex approaches Michael, in the middle of the field everyone else has vacated. They have an audience, a good portion of the court. Duels are a highly-valued form of entertainment to the noble class.

When he's close enough to Michael, he turns toward the King to bow deeply, then gives Michael a smaller bow, without taking his eyes off him. Michael returns it with a smirk.

“You look good in blue and leathers,” he says, low enough that only the two of them can hear.

“How are you alive, Michael?” Alex asks in the same tone.

“Not thanks to you,” Michael shrugs. “I've come for revenge. You had me hanged!”

Alex averts his eyes.

His father gave the order, when Michael was exposed as a thief and a fraud, and Alex wasn't strong enough to stop it.

That's why he joined the King's Musketeers. To become strong enough.

“Fight!” the King shouts.

Alex raises his sword.

I’ll be posting part 2 in the next few days, and then the new stuff Thursday or whenever I manage to finish it.

#roswell new mexico #alteraroswell2020 #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #whumptober2019 #alex whump #violence tw #blood tw #wound tw #mine #echo's fanfiction #musketeers au

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deathfrisbeeinthetardis · 5 years ago

Note

Bliss 7 and 12 please ;-;

Thank you anon, I absolutely adored writing this prompt, but being me I ended up with more angst than I planned to write for such a sweet prompt, but the ending is soft I swear. I hope you like it

Prompt Bliss 7. “Look at you… Goodness, you’re so cute.”

Ryan doesn’t know what they are even doing at this point.

This is the tenth time this month that he had lingered at the office after work, throwing himself into doing and redoing his editing as people trickled out and the buzz faded away. His neck is straining and his eyes ache, but he catches himself before he rubs them, not wanting to jostle the contacts. The office is not the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, but he would give up his bed and all his jerseys if it meant he could be spared from his mind.

There is no use thinking about it really, what’s done is done, but he can’t help his reluctance. It’s just an apartment, his rationality says. But why does every empty space hurt to look at, his heart whispers.

There are so many of them now.

So he had hung back, and Shane had stayed with him, the two of them editing their various projects side by side, a giant bucket of Chicago Popcorn™ Shane’s parents had sent between them.

The problem, as it usually was, is that Shane’s company and some good old fashioned sleep deprivation don’t mix well, and productivity took the fallout, their work ethic gradually sliding off the table until they’re positively undoing efforts that they’ve already put out.

Yes, maybe Ryan had something to do with Shane’s elbow and back crashing onto his laptop keyboard and deleting nearly two hours of editing, but it’s Shane’s fault he doesn’t save the videos every two minutes like Ryan does, non-compulsively of course.

So their nights aren’t the most productive, but it’s off-hours so no one can really tell them off. The office is empty, unflipped light switches plunging patches of desks into shadow between the bright spots in mesmerizing patterns. The warehouse desk layout leaves much space for the mind to fill, but Ryan’s worked here for so long that he knows every twist and turn. He’d bet good money that he’d win in a ghost race through this organized mess.

Ryan’s pretty sure the only person doing actual work tonight has chosen to evacuate from their desk to one of the corners farthest away from the pair of them. He feels a little bad to bother him with the un-moderated volume of their conversations and the not-so-infrequent giggling fits, but right now he’s too relaxed and happy to care. It’s the only time he gets to feel like this anyway.

The Unsolved title card flashes, pulling his attention back to the screen, a white bar inching through the multicolored blocks of carefully compiled video and audio files at the bottom of the monitor. Ryan’s quite proud of this one, the crew were able to get some stellar shots on-location and there was probably one of the clearest spirit box replies they’ve gotten, no matter how hard the other man tries to discount it.

“Aww you cut that part out again?’ Shane pouts beside him, headphones perched precariously on his big head.

"You can’t just go and tell ghosts they’re gonna be on Youtube every time.” Ryan swivels his chair to face Shane, a lofty air in his voice as he does his best to look down his nose at the other man, even going so far as pumping his seat up a few inches. Shane’s lip trembles like he’s holding back a laugh. It’s an argument they’ve had before, and Ryan knows how it’s going to go almost down to the line, but it’s always fun, so he plays the game.

“And why not?"

"They’re not from this time, they don’t even know what electricity is!”

“So you are admitting the spirit box is wack.” Shane rubs his hands together evilly, smiling so wide he could have been in that truth or dare movie, no special effects needed. “Oh, this is very good.”

“I did not say that,” Ryan protests, nudging Shane’s leg with a foot and feeling intensely satisfied when the boot leaves a dirt mark on the other man’s dark jeans. Jeez, they are literal children sometimes, but Ryan never has this much fun.

“It’s just, they’re ghosts, and they’re making the effort to reach out to talk to these two idiots, cut them some slack.”

“You’re the only idiot here. I, Shane Madej, am a man of science.” Shane doesn’t even have to level up his seat and he’s still taller than Ryan. It is so, so not fair.

“This is science!”

“Uh-huh,” Shane says, deadpan. There is movement just out of Ryan’s periphery, and he cranes his head to see the guy leave, wincing internally. He should probably apologize for being loud, but that can totally wait a day. Maybe two.

“There has been plenty of evidence on ghosts and you know it.”

“From what I’ve seen? You really want to go into that?” There’s a challenge in Shane’s posture, and Ryan feels a rush in his chest that overruns the empty ache there, sees the trap but he jumps anyway.

“Hell yeah I do, we’ve caught some pretty good stuff along the way, Waverly, ‘brown and white’? The freaking Sallie House?"

"We both know the whole flashlight test is horseshit, Ryan.” Shane smirks, leaning back in his chair languidly with his hands behind his head, “As to the rest of those, the demons and ghosties gotta work harder than that, cause right now they don’t seem very interesting.”

“How dare you! They’re more than interesting. They were all people once.”

“Let’s list what they’ve done, hmm? Jostling toothpaste, nudging bouncy balls, whispers so gentle you can’t even–”

“Nope I’m not letting you trivialize the evidence, it was fucking creepy to hear those on location.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a wimp.”

“Fuck you.” Ryan shoots back, but there’s no real feeling behind it. He pulls a serious face to match Shane’s, squaring his shoulders and oh watch how fast he folds now.

The other man’s joy is infectious, and soon Ryan is joining him, their laughs swallowed up by the high ceilings and far walls. Ryan’s eyes catch on the lights shining down on Shane, tracing golden lines along the edges of his lanky figure against the shadowed monotony of conference rooms. Breathless and curling into themselves, their gazes meet and linger across five feet of space.

They’re just two guys working into the small hours of the night, just another aspect of their life that their ghost hunting career has bled into, it’s all normal.

Except it isn’t.

Neither of them needs to be here to work, least of all Shane, and really, Ryan thinks with a twist in his chest, it has just been the two of them spending time in each other’s company. And Ryan does genuinely enjoy it. He loves the ease of their interactions, how they can hound each other mercilessly and bicker, how Shane can poke that special unhinged laugh out of him and make him forget about everything else.

And how he, in turn, can make the big guy’s eyes all curvy and bright like no one does.

But there’s no use thinking about things like that.

There could be, a small voice says, a light shining weak in the churning abyss. Ryan passes a hand over his face and keeps it there, not trusting himself to not let his heart spill right out.

“Ryan?”

He had thought he found the one with Helen, the person in the world he’d like to spend his life with, but then things had started falling apart, and she had left. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Ryan knows, but he had gotten used to having someone to come home to, someone who knows him for who he is.

You can have that again, the voice goes on small and determined, and Ryan wishes he could block it out. Isn’t he always good at that on their investigations? It was basically in the fucking job description.

You just have to let yourself see.

Shane is safe, someone to trust, someone to rely on. No one else would have born with him all the times he lost his mind in those haunted places. No one else would have hummed Mama Mia to him constantly in those first days when Ryan hid the pain so well on camera, knowing the familiar tune would take the tears away, if only for a minute. Just one Shane Madej hailing from the Land of Lincoln, his co-host, his best friend, and the most important constant grounding him while the rest of his world is turned up-side-down.

“You okay buddy?” There is a sharp tone in Shane’s voice, and Ryan belatedly realizes his eyes are wet. Shane’s face is flushed from laughing, but now he leans forward and there is suddenly so much care in the slight tension of his shoulders that Ryan wants to cry.

He can’t risk losing this, he doesn’t know what he would do if he manages to fuck up this last good thing in his life.

“Yeah,” He gives the other man a small smile, turning back to his screen to start up the video again, and he feels Shane relaxing back into his chair reluctantly.

Soon he’s leaning forward again, attention rapt on every little detail Ryan had painstakingly compiled.

“Hmm, didn’t you make a face at that point?” Shane taps a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed in concentration as Ryan reaches out to pause the replay, the lines of blue and yellow stark against the black background.

“Oh, that? I didn’t think it would anyone would be interested to see it.” Ryan’s fingers tap at the keys for a few seconds, pulling up the clip from the front camera and overlaying it on the video.

"I didn’t know it was gonna scare ya.” Screen-Shane says, tipping his head to the side and schooling his face into an impressive mask of innocence as he batted his eyes at screen-Ryan.

In-real-life Ryan feels warmth coil in his chest at the memory, and he smiles as he watches himself sputter for a bit, finally settling on a determined, You know what you did. He actually huffs out a laugh at his piss poor attempt to look intimidating, when the camera angle in the VO booth put Shane so much clearly taller.

On the screen, Shane’s looking down at Ryan with a grin, though he at least has the self-awareness to look a little sheepish. Their eyes lock, and with an appropriate pause for dramatic effect, “I do.”

The clip takes another few seconds to end, their raucous laughter sound from his speakers. Then Ryan’s left with the still of both of them looking at the camera, frozen grins bright on their faces, captured in time.

And Ryan’s caught in fucking limbo again, his free hand flexing in on empty air at the edge of his desk.

“Good stuff huh?” Shane’s voice is quiet.

“Yeah.” Breathe, just breathe, how is that so hard? It shouldn’t be this hard.

“You considering switching the text out for this?” There’s a smile in Shane’s voice, and Ryan clears his throat and drags in a shuddering breath.

“No it's—I’ll uh, I’ll put it in.” He hears Shane wheeling close on his chair, but he doesn’t turn to look, locking his eyes on the monitor and busying himself with the familiar shifts and adjustments. He just needs a bit of time to clear his head, then he’ll recover the ability to be a half-decent friend again, he’s sure of it.

Ryan’s got his cursor hovering over the clip, leaning forward to keep an eye on the time markings when Shane loses a soft breath, his voice an awed murmur.

“God, you’re so cute when you’re focused."

And Ryan’s world freezes over.

Around the edges of his vision, he sees realization, surprise, and something like fear flit across the other man’s face. But Ryan doesn’t do much, just holds as still as he can, like he can stamp down the giddy hope in his chest before it even has a chance to rise, so he can convince himself that it’s all just a freakishly detailed fever dream, because Shane can’t have just said that.

Shane saw him as a friend, nothing more. Ryan does want that to be true, he really should.

Breathing is becoming such a fucking bother again, he thinks absently. Maybe if he didn’t do it, life would be much easier.

"Oh-oh god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that, what kind of shitty friend am I—just,” Shane breaks off, dragging both hands through his hair and tugging in frustration. When he finally speaks he sounds broken, voice thick as if he’s holding back tears, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s all too much, there’s a loud rushing in Ryan’s head. He bolts out of his chair, needing the freedom in space to think, to process. His chest tightens when Shane flinches at the sudden movement, eyes wide, fingers white where they’ve wrapped around the arm of his chair in a death grip.

He needs air, Ryan thinks, and his feet start carrying him away, faster and faster. But Shane follows him, and it has always been like this, he supposes. Ryan takes the lead and Shane hops on for the ride, for better or for worse, always a steady presence at his side when he needs him the most. Sometimes even when he doesn’t want to.

Shane’s steps close in and he catches at Ryan’s arm, “Ryan wait, please.”

Ryan blinks hard, but he doesn’t get to wake up this time. Shane’s fingers are burning points of pressure on his mind.

He opens his mouth to speak but there’s a strange taste, two cool lines trace down his face and his vision is swimming, and oh wouldn’t it just be perfect if he blacked out, poor little Ryan, can’t even take a fucking joke without fainting—

“Oh god, don’t cry Ry, please, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Was it a fucking joke.” Ryan bites out, voice barely louder than a whisper but it still comes out harsher than he means. He can’t look at Shane, so Ryan keeps his eyes down, stares at the mud on Shane’s boots from their last shoot. He needs to know.

“No,” Hurt, that’s what it is, and there’s far too much of it in Shane’s voice for it to be right. “No it wasn’t.” Shane lets go of Ryan’s hand to curls an arm around himself, and Ryan aches for the burning contact like it’s a physical wound.

“Oh.” It’s more a punched out puff of air than a word. Oh.

“I-” Shane swallows, eyes shifting then settling back on Ryan, “I was looking at you, and it-it slipped out, I’m sorry.”

The silence isn’t complete, of course it isn’t. The sound of traffic exists at all hours of the day here. But it still envelops Ryan, wrapping around his throat and trying to suffocate the words he’s struggling to form.

“Don’t be."

"What?” Shane breathes, hesitant, almost disbelieving, his eyes dart to search Ryan’s face, “you’re not saying—do you—”

“I think I can.” Ryan says, and he tastes truth on his tongue.

Not now, not even tomorrow, but maybe next week, or the week after that.

“You do?"

"I do.” He affirms, and Ryan’s throat closes up with something warm when a lopsided grin starts to form on Shane’s face, small and hopeful, a gentle flush creeping onto his cheeks. They’re just standing in the office looking at each other, and Shane’s hand lifts up a little as if to reach out, but he catches himself before it makes it into Ryan’s personal space.

“You wanna head back home? I’ll pack the popcorn.” Ryan can’t really breathe, so he just nods and offers Shane a watery smile.

Their fingers brush when Ryan hands Shane a blanket for the couch, the corners of Shane’s eyes are crinkling and Ryan is breathless. He’s been feeling like that a lot tonight, and it seems that life is determined to keep him that way with all the curveballs it’s been chucking at him.

But this time it’s not a bad feeling. Not at all.

He fiddles with his sleeve and watches Shane settle down, making his way around his apartment with a familiarity accumulated over years’ worth of movie nights and beers and popcorn.

It’s still too soon, and he doesn’t think he can do anything about this whole thing he’s got himself into. But he’s got Shane with him, and for once Ryan’s not afraid he’s going to leave.

And maybe, Ryan thinks. Maybe one day he won’t need to hide from his apartment and its empty spaces.

#this took way too long to write #sorry for the wait anon #i was 1.5k in and then my brain was just like fluff??? have some angst instead #but it's hurt/comfort I guess #things are okay at the end #shyan #bliss prompt #how did I twist it into something that i cried to write #i love dying and being dead #alex writes #also I am very proud to have used that 'oh' trope after ryan has that realization #i do love that one very much

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marril96 · 6 years ago

Text

Tonight

Chapter 7: Purple with Anger

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Characters: Rowena, reader, Sam, Dean

Summary: It was supposed to be a happy, carefree outing. After tonight, however, nothing will ever be the same for you and Rowena.

Warning: violence, sexual assault

Editor: @rowenaisfabulous

NOW…

"How is she doing?" Sam asked as soon as she reappeared in the living room.

"She's… dealing," Rowena replied. The shortest, most concise answer she could think of. They didn't need to hear that, despite your injuries, you were physically okay. That you were scared and spent and, even though you still weren't sure how you felt about what had transpired, you weren't feeling right. Weren't feeling at peace.

The hunter gave a nod, small and curt. "She's gonna be okay. She's strong." There was an earnestness in his tone, raw concern that screamed true, genuine.

You were. Impossibly strong and brave, a miracle in the form of a person. The one person who loved Rowena endlessly, truthfully, with all you had, despite all the bad. All you'd seen from the very start was the good in her.

Charles, she loved you!

She loved you so much her heart hurt from the intensity of the feeling, from the rawness of it, bright and burning as a thousand flames.

She couldn't protect you — not at first. Couldn't take away the pain, the trauma. But she could help you put it behind you. She could be there for you, hold your hand, hold you, through it all, until your cocoon broke and you were ready to spread your wings and fly on your own again, unobstructed by fear, free of crippling baggage that held you down.

"She is," Rowena agreed.. She curled up on the couch, tucked her bare feet under her thighs, and entangled her hands between her open legs, playing with her fingers absent-mindedly as thoughts of tonight, of you crying, of you admitting you were scared swirled in her mind, a rerun on a never ending loop. "Sit down. I haven't finished the story."

The brothers exchanged a glance.

"Its fine," Dean said. "We get the gist of it."

"You don't know everything that happened," she said.

"You don't have to tell us," Sam said. He cleared his throat. Swallowed hard. "We don't wanna pressure you—"

"It's no pressure," Rowena said. "I want to tell you. Y/N wants me to tell you."

Surely they couldn't refuse a request from a traumatized girl.

The two hunters looked at each other once again, then reclaimed their seats across from her.

Rowena sighed, then sucked in a big breath for courage. Her hands were shaking again; she balled them into fists, tight, taut ones that turned her knuckles white as chalk.

This was it. The final act. The conclusion to her story that, despite lasting for a mere few hours, felt like it had lasted for weeks.

Like it was still lasting, for the emotions — the trauma — were fresh as wounds, raw and gaping, rubbed with salt and dirt.

"Like I said, I don't know of any of the covens."

*****

EARLIER…

Not knowing a thing of what they were asking her about didn't spare Rowena from the consequences.

Didn't spare you.

Every "I don't know" of hers earned you a slap or a punch, each new one stronger, more forceful. By the time the night was over, you would be sprinkled in purples and blues.

And it would be all Rowena's fault.

If she'd only just tell them what they wanted to know. If she'd only give them the whereabouts of the covens they named, and the names of those they didn't know of but were sure they existed…

She would. She would give it all up, and more, so much more. She would give names and dates of birth and physical descriptions and estimates of the levels of their powers — anything.

If she knew.

But she didn't. She didn't know a single thing of value.

She'd tried to meet them halfway, offered up names of former Grand Coven members, which only earned her mocking laughter. The witches she'd named were either dead, out of the country, or well hidden, the hunters had told her. Her information was garbage — useless and outdated. They wanted newer covens, fresh blood.

But that they couldn't have.

So, like spoilt children throwing tantrums, they took it out on you.

"Liar," they hurled at her as they beat you.

"Lying bitch!"

"Stop lying!"

"Lies, lies, lies!"

Not even her desperate, helpless appeal to reason, as she pointed out that, if she had any information, she would have willingly shared it to protect you, worked. They'd heard stories about her, about the cruel, heartless monster she used to be. A user. An abuser. A cheater. A thief. A murderer.

A liar.

Willing to do anything to ensure her survival, no matter how many people she had to trample on her way to the top.

Rowena wished she could go back in time and slap the absolute shit out of her past self. How dare she put her in this situation? How dare she give her such a reputation?

How dare she do it to herself?

"Stop!" she screamed for the umpteenth time. "Please!"

Mike, fist slick with your blood, just stared at her.

"I thought you didn't beg," the Lumberjack, who, along with one other hunter, held on to her to keep her from lunging forwards, from protecting you, said so smugly that Rowena wanted to wipe that sneer off his face with her nails.

Instead, in a voice far too small and weak for her liking, she said, "Torture me. Do whatever you want to me. But please don't hurt her anymore."

Her plea elicited a laugh, just as smug, from the bastard. "If you insist. But only if you tell us what we wanna know."

"I don't know anything," she said for what must have been the hundredth time.

"Wrong answer."

Mike flicked his palm over your bruised cheek, the slap sharp and loud. You grunted, whimpered like a puppy, biting back the scream that threatened to break free.

Rowena turned her head away, insides burning, shattered heart racing.

It wasn't fair.

You were here because of her. Because you wanted to help her. Because you loved her so much you couldn't stand to watch her suffer in silence.

And now she had to do just that to you. Sit there and watch as you were hit and slapped and punched while two hunters held her in place, kept her trapped like a wild, out of control animal. So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't bloody fair!

"Stop!" she demanded. Pleaded. Begged. Dignity all but gone, thrown to the wind. Irrelevant, for she would have given up anything and everything for you. No price was too high to pay. "Please!"

"You know how to stop all this," the Lumberjack said carelessly, casually, as if he were talking about the weather.

He leaned into her, his foul breath dancing over her skin like venom. She scrunched up her face, the cocktail she drank earlier splashing about in her stomach as it twisted and turned with unease, with absolute disgust that made her want to vomit. She didn't want to smell him. Didn't want to be anywhere near him. Didn't want his hands on her, on her body. Didn't want his fingers pressing into her skin. Didn't want his stinky breath in her face.

She wanted him to die.

Charles, she wanted him to die!

"Give us the information." He hissed the words out slowly, emphasized each one, as if she were stupid.

She bloody would — but she couldn't give what she didn't gave.

"Simple as that."

Mouth trembling, fear running through her, seeping into her bones like poison, Rowena uttered, "I can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I bloody told you I don't know!" she said. "The witch community wants nothing to do with me. I've no information of their affairs."

The Lumberjack sighed. "This is getting tiresome. We're not getting anywhere."

"Should I hit her again?" Mike asked, prompting you to let out a squeal that tugged at Rowena's heart.

The Lumberjack looked from you to her, back and forth, as if you were attractions in a circus, both interesting, equally peculiar. Then he said, "No. It's not working. She's not telling us anything."

Because I don't bloody know, Rowena thought furiously.

"We should change tactics. Take it up a notch," he continued, winking at Mike. "If you know what I mean."

Mike grinned like it was Christmas.

Rowena shuddered. She didn't like the sound of it. Didn't like the threat in the Lumberjack's voice, the hungry smile on Mike's mouth.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, panic rising in the form of bile mounting at the back of her throat, bitter and foul. She gasped for a breath, gulped it down, clenched her teeth shut to hold back a whimper that threatened to tear free.

"I heard how possessive you are of your belongings," the Lumberjack said too cheerfully, too smugly. "Damaging them doesn't seem to work. So I thought, why not take them instead? It's bound to motivate you to say something."

Rowena's heart stopped. "What?"

They'd already taken you. They'd already kept you away from her, beat on you as if you were a toy, meaningless, discarded. What more could they do to you? What more could they—

Oh.

Oh!

"No!" she screamed, eyes widening as realization set in. It took everything in her not to break, not to crumble into tears and whimpers.

They couldn't.

They wouldn't.

Surely, not even the likes of them were that cruel.

Rowena wanted to laugh at her naivety. Of course they were that cruel! Of course they would do that in the blink of an eye. Without a flicker of regret.

You weren't a person to them, weren't human. You were just a means to an end. A tool to get Rowena to talk, to get her to tell them what they needed to know despite her knowing not a single thing. Leverage.

Mike smirked. His hand slithered up and down your arm, slid over your skin with the grace of a snake. His fingers rubbed your flesh, dug into it, explored it. Felt it underneath their tips as if you were an animal they'd finally, after ages of want, gotten to pet.

"Don't touch her!" Rowena hissed.

He looked her straight in the eyes, locked his stare with hers, and slid his hand under your shirt.

"Stop!" you said, tears falling freely down your bruised face, hands desperately, fruitlessly trying to push him away, to get him to stop touching you.

The more you struggled, though, the more persistent he got. It was as if you were a challenge, a dare he was intent on completing, happily so, without a care in the world.

Hitting you excited him.

Touching you like this, feeling you up — that turned him on.

"Stop it!" you begged. "Please, stop!"

He kept going. Kept touching you. Kept molesting you. His hand roamed your chest, exploring, conquering, claiming. It clasped over your breast, and his fingers squeezed, dug into the sensitive flesh like calloused, meaty blades.

"Don't!" you cried out.

"Stop it!" Rowena shouted, heart racing, stomach churning. He had no right to touch you like that. No right to put his hands on you and look so bloody satisfied as he did so. No right to look at her as if he were waiting — anxiously so — for her to say something, to utter yet another "I don't know," to justify doing it again.

Die.

He would die slowly and painfully.

While the others collapsed under the weight of her magic, of the deadly spell she'd already prepared to cast as soon as the chance arose, Mike would writhe in pain and watch. And he would hurt and suffer and scream and cry, but death wouldn't come.

Not by her hand.

Oh, no.

That would be too good for him. Too merciful.

Rowena would only inflict pain. The rest would be up to nature. Up to his body's endurance. He would only meet the sweet release of death when his body couldn't take it anymore.

Fair was fair.

"Tell us about the covens and he won't lay a single finger on her," the Lumberjack said.

Rowena sighed. Breathed in. Out. Long and hard. "How many times do I have to say I don't bloody know anything?!"

"And how many times do I have to tell you I know you're full of shit?!" he retorted, losing his patience. All business, no more play.

"I'm telling you the truth! Why aren't you listening?" Rowena shrieked, hysterical. Crazy. Out of her mind with anger, with fear, with hatred that ran so deep it chilled her bones. "I. Don't. Know. I'm not on good terms with—"

"The magical community, yeah. So you said," the Lumberjack cut her off. "Even if that's true — and I don't think it is — I find it hard to believe an old girl like you doesn't know anything."

She bit back a response to that, but her face betrayed her and prompted him to chuckle.

"You're — what? Four hundred? A few years give or take. You must know something."

If he'd asked her a few years ago, she might have known a thing or two. Now? She was out of the loop. Disowned by her own community. A pariah. She couldn't change that. Couldn't pretend she had the information she didn't.

The only thing she could give him were lies, and she doubted that would result in anything good. He thought she was lying now and you were paying a hell of a price. If she were to actually lie…

A shiver ran down the back of her neck, burrowed deep into her spine at the thought.

She couldn't — wouldn't — do that to you. Her inability to provide information was hurting you enough as it was.

"I've told you all I know," Rowena said desperately, at her wit's end. Weakened. Almost defeated.

"Your information's a bit outdated," the Lumberjack said.

"I don't bloody know anything else!"

Why wasn't he listening?

Why didn't he understand?

Why, why, why?

For a moment it seemed as if he would snap again, but then he took in a breath and straightened up. Rose his head up high, spine straight and perfect. Grip tight on her arm. Mouth a line that, while saying nothing, betrayed the storm raging inside. A composure of a royal in the body of a savage.

A few moments of uncomfortable, suffocating silence settled upon the corpse-littered club before he broke it in a voice so still, so quiet that it promised trouble, "Let us jog your memory, then."

He gave Mike a nod; a smile one, wordless but telling.

Mike grinned like the madman he was.

Then, in a move so swift, so practiced it was obvious he'd done it before, his hand released your breast and slid into your pants.

Your first reaction was to scream. Your hands instantly started flailing about, slapping at his arm, urging it to let go, to get out. His other arm was quick to tighten around you and hold both of yours in place.

Tall, muscular, and strong; a witch whose only strength was her magic that had been sealed away was no match for him. He could crush you, if he wished so. Crumble your insides into pieces, into a mush of organs and blood.

"Get that fucking hand out!" Rowena snarled, seeing red. Seeing blood that was to come, that would spray these walls and paint these floors all over again.

His blood.

Their blood.

It would rain crimson and pain, fear and revenge, everything she was owed. Everything you were owed.

"Talk and he will," the Lumberjack told her.

"I told you everything!" she snarled.

He sighed. "Let us not go over that conversation again."

She ignored his response. "I told you bloody cunts everything I know! What more do you want?"

They wanted to hurt you — both of you.

That was what they wanted. What this was all about.

Maybe the Lumberjack didn't believe her. Maybe a few others didn't, either. But the rest? They knew she didn't know anything. They stood aside and snickered, watched the show with utter fascination, with interest so deep they forgot everything else. All they cared about — all they could focus on — were the two of you. Your torment. Your pain. Your fear and desperation and heartbreak.

They didn't care that Rowena was telling the truth. The show she was putting on, that she was a part of, was too good to interrupt. Too entertaining. After all, neither she nor you were human. Everything that happened — everything they did — was fair game.

It wasn't like living, breathing human beings were getting hurt.

"You fucking sadists!" Rowena said.

The Lumberjack said nothing, gave no response to her ramblings, to her questions. Instead, he looked at her and smiled bright and smug, like a child who'd just been gifted his favorite toy.

Without thinking, without considering the consequences that would surely befall you, she responded by spitting in his face.

A feeling of triumph, of accomplishment, rushed through her, hot as fire in her veins. It was gone a moment later, as his stare morphed into a glare and his features smoothened into a blank canvas, cold, unemotional.

"I don't have to tell you Y/N'll pay for this, do I?" he said in a voice that matched the look on his face. Distant but deadly. An open threat.

Rowena paled. "I'm sorry."

"Too late."

"Wait, please! I wasn't thinking—"

"Let this be a lesson in thinking, then."

"Bloody wait!"

But it was too late. Mike, who didn't need to be told to act, grinned widely. He shoved your pants down to your thighs and slid his hand into your panties.

You whined, whimpered, squealed like a hurt puppy. "No!"

"You can thank your little girlfriend for this," he told you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

You recoiled, disgust etching over your face, carving into your features like a tattoo. It seemed to turn him on, for he moaned with such pleasure it made Rowena want to throw up and kept kissing you, pressed his lips to your neck with the passion of a devoted lover.

He wasn't your lover.

He wasn't your anything.

His hand moved in your panties, worked on you with equal ferocity to his tongue trailing over your neck in-between kisses.

"You like this, don't you?" he said, panting, pants tightening.

Your response was a small whimper.

Rowena's was the snarl of a wild animal.

"Let her go!" she screamed, all fear and uncertainty gone in place of anger that burned red hot. Her magic roiled inside her, raged in her blood, begged to be unleashed. Begged to roam free, to hurt, to destroy.

To kill without mercy.

She fought against the Lumberjack and the other hunter. Kicked and screamed and shoved until a third hunter, one of the observers, had to step in to help restrain her.

She paid them no mind. Ignored their hands on her, their laughter that rang in her ears.

All she was focused on was you.

Your tear-stained face.

Your ragged breathing.

Your bruised skin.

Your trembling lips.

Your exposed underwear, and Mike's hand inside it. Kneading. Feeling. Rubbing.

Her magic throbbed, bounced around her veins, around her body like electricity. Slipped into her pores, into her nerves and cells. A heat caged, bound, desperate for release.

The cuff on her wrist held it back.

It would give. Iron always gave eventually. Her power was too great for it to contain it for long.

She poured her magic into her arm, aimed it at the cuff. Slammed it into the metal with all she had over and over and over again.

Come on!

The cuff held strong.

She kept on her assault, kept pushing it. Her wrist burned from the magic pooling underneath the skin; it was a pleasant burn, one of comfort. Familiar. Hers.

She had to save you.

Had to protect you.

Had to avenge you.

Her magic slammed against the cuff, wave after wave of heat, of energy, hitting it. Fighting it. With every sound you made, every little whimper, it fought harder. Slammed. Pounded. Scratched. Kicked.

Come on, Rowena! she said to herself. You can do it!

She'd done it before and she could do it now.

You can bloody do it!

She had to do it. For your sake. For hers. For justice.

She was all you had now. Your only salvation, only hope of getting out of this nightmare. She couldn't disappoint you.

She couldn't let you down again.

She was the reason you were in this mess. She had to make it right. Had to redeem herself as much as she could.

She couldn't erase what happened tonight. Couldn't make it un-happen.

But she could stop it.

She would stop it.

She would set you free.

With that thought, a strong, charged burst of magic slammed into the cuff, and the iron cracked under the pressure. Another one followed right after; angry, wild, deadly, a force of nature, of her raging emotions. And another, and another.

And then — the cuff broke. It shattered on her wrist, pieces falling limply to the floor.

A strange calm spread through Rowena. A feeling of safety she'd been missing.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly, letting this new feeling, this new sensation, settle.

When she opened them a moment later, they were glowing.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @dropsofpetrichor @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @wayward-kaia @angel7376 @rowenaisfabulous @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @melisandre02 @a-queen-and-her-throne

#rowena #rowena macleod #rowena x reader #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #my fics #fanfiction

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megalony · 6 years ago

Text

Fractured pieces- Part 9

Another part to my single dad! Roger Taylor series which I hope you are all enjoying.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @luvborhap @jennyggggrrr @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger's eyes locked onto the small round glass of whiskey sitting on the desk in front of him, wishing that he could just down the bottle but he knew that wasn't a good idea nor would it be the best option since James was here. Roger couldn't get bladdered in case James woke up and needed something and yet the idea was so tempting to him.

Being drunk would help to take some of the pain away, the pain that had been a frequent friend to Roger at this time over the past for years.

He hated the fact that he felt angry and hurt and in agony around James' birthday because that wasn't fair. Roger had to try so hard to keep a lid on his emotions when all he wanted to do was throw a tantrum and break everything, to scream and shout and sob. He wanted to stay in bed all day and let the sorrow overtake. Roger wanted to lay and scream or go to (Y/n)'s apartment and go through her things with tears streaming down his face with each memory that he came across. Yet Roger also wanted to feel normal. He wanted to feel happy and excited and his usual giddy self because it was his boy's birthday. His boy whose doctors had doubted he would get past a month old who was now going to turn five next month.

Roger should be excited for this, he should be happy instead of feeling like he wanted to curl up under the covers of his bed and stay there until these feelings passed. He shouldn't be going through the same turmoil that he went through almost five years ago now. He shouldn't be conflicted, feeling like he should have been the one to die instead of (Y/n) because she was the one who had ensured James would be alright. She had died to save him when Roger wanted her to live instead of their boy, a decision Roger regretted ever thinking about because it was too confusing and hurtful.

The drummer shouldn't be wishing that he never had that one night stand with (Y/n) because she would be alive if they didn't at the cost of not having James. Roger could have one without the other when he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to be greedy and have them both in his life but he couldn't and that hurt more than words could ever express.

At the sound of the door creaking open ever so slightly, Roger turned his head sharply to the left. Rubbing the few tears from his eyes when he noticed James standing in the doorway. Roger's eyes narrowed when he noticed the look of worry on James' features, watching him brushing tears from his own eyes for reasons Roger wasn't aware of yet. His head was leaning against the door, one arm wrapped around his middle to make sure Roger's baggy jumper stayed on him instead of falling from his shoulders.

Reaching out Roger turned off the record player on his right that was very quietly playing a Beatles song that he hadn't really been listening to nor could he hear it very well due to the volume of his thoughts.

"What're you doing up?" His tone was gentle as he waved the four-year-old over to him, showing him he wasn't mad or annoyed that he had left his room to come and find Roger. It had been a week since Roger took James to the hospital which ended up in them staying there for the night until James was stable enough to come home. His fever hadn't completely gone but it was going but his other symptoms would take a while and he was on antibiotics.

Leaning down Roger picked James up when he trotted over to him, settling James on his lap and wrapping his arms around him as he burrowed himself into Roger's chest. Moving his head to the side Roger looked down at his boy when he stayed quiet, alarm bells ringing in his mind when James had more tears falling from his eyes that were beginning to soak into Roger's shirt.

"Hey, hey why the tears?" Roger tried to brush the tears away but more continued to fall and replace the ones he vanished. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip when James shuffled around on his lap, his arms wrapping around Roger's neck as his face buried in his shoulder. "Baby, I can't help if you don't talk to me. You feeling any worse tonight or had a bad dream?" Guessing what was wrong wasn't really helping Roger at the moment because he couldn't read James' mind so he couldn't know what was wrong unless he was told. His hand rubbed up and down James’ back to try and help calm him down.

"W-why did mummy die?" An uncontrollable shudder ran along the base of Roger's spine as he gently tugged James so he was sitting on Roger's lap properly. Allowing him to look down at his boy who was rubbing at his eyes, small whimpers and coughs escaping his lips making his chest shudder and his breaths crackle like static on a tv.

Why was he suddenly asking this?

Admittedly Roger hadn't told James the exact reason since he was too young to understand and he didn't want to upset him. But he knew she had gotten ill and passed away not long after he was born, that had always been enough for James. He was told everything else about (Y/n), about her personality and what music she liked, what she liked to read and her favourite places. He had never asked this before or seemed to cut up like this. He always felt down and out of place when certain topics considering (Y/n) came up because he felt cheated. He didn't get to know her but John and Brian's children knew their mums who were still around.

"Why are you asking that?"

"Was it b...because of me?" James' arms wrapped around his chest when Roger seemed to choke on thin air. A string of tears unable to hide away in his eyes anymore as they flushed down his features that were beginning to blotch a darker shade of crimson.

"Who said that?" There was no way that James could have thought of this on his own and everyone had been briefed about this subject. No one could mention how exactly (Y/n) died and they couldn't say she died on James' birthday because he was too young and that would be too upsetting for him to hear. There was no way he could have come to this conclusion without someone saying something to him. "Tell me who told you that." Roger didn't miss the way James visibly jumped at the sudden snapping tone to the drummer's voice. A tone he had never used with James before.

James wasn't a bad kid, he never did anything wrong and so Roger's voice was always as sweet as honey around him. He had never heard that tone in Roger's voice before and he had very rarely seen Roger cry. The cut-up and broken expression on Roger's face was rather scary to the four-year-old who didn't mean to upset Roger. He only wanted answers.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Roger rubbed at the tears quickly as he held his breath to calm his raging emotions down. He never meant to snap but he needed to know who had said this to or in front of James. Leaning over he pressed his lips to James' temple before pulling him back to his chest, feeling the little boy gripping his shirt tightly as he began to wheeze from the small cries leaving his lips. He curled up as much as he could against Roger who tried his best to stay calm, he never wanted to upset or scare James but he was feeling rather volatile and this was not a subject he wanted to talk about.

"Shh, oh baby I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap, I just need to know where you heard that. Calm down baby or you'll hurt your chest." Rubbing his hand up and down James' back, Roger evened out his breathing to try and prompt James to do the same. Needing him to calm down and breathe a little better or he was going to start coughing and his lungs weren't exactly at their best performance at the moment.

"I- I heard nanny and grandad talking... t-they said mummy died when I was a baby a-and you said she was ill but I was ill too. S..so was it because of me?" His breaths hitched every so often causing him to tense and his shoulders to pull inwards against Roger's chest.

Now Roger realised why James had been a little off today when Roger brought him home. He hadn't eaten very much which Roger had put down to feeling unwell and he hadn't really talked a lot either. Not singing along to one of the Disney movies they put on before bed, not quoting it like he normally did and he seemed to attach himself to Roger just a little more than normal. Of course it was them who James had overheard, the boys never talked about (Y/n) passing away especially not when James was around. They must have thought he was playing or upstairs or something.

Pulling James back, Roger kept his arms tight around him as he looked down to him. Watching his little double brushing the tears away with the sleeve of Roger's jumper that he was wearing.

"Your mum got really ill before you were born sweetheart, she was sick and had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. You were born too early, that's why you were poorly and have tummy trouble and the infections but your mum... she protected you before then. She had a different illness to you and that's why she went to heaven baby, that was nothing to do with you." Roger couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes as he watched a mix of emotions flood James' face and pupils before he slowly nodded. Trying to process what he had just been told.

(Y/n) had made the choice to wait longer for James to be born so he would have the best chance at life, that was no fault of James' when it resulted in her death and not his own. He didn't ask her to do that, she wanted to have him later and she was ill, James didn't give her the illness.

"Are you mad because you miss mummy?"

"Yeah... I always miss her, you and your mum mean the world to me. I feel happy when I miss her sometimes too. I feel happy that you look like her, that you're here with me, that she would have loved you almost as much as I do. I feel a lot of things when I think or miss her."

Roger didn't want James to think the only emotions Roger felt when he thought about (Y/n) were anger and pain. He felt joy and love and happiness too because he knew if she were here she would love how James was growing up and the person he was turning out to be. Roger felt the bad emotions when it was closer to the anniversary of when he lost her but he felt so many good things when the thought of (Y/n) came to mind and James needed to know this too. He needed to know that he could feel a range of emotions when he thought of his mum. James needed to learn it was okay to feel cheated or sad that he didn't know her but he could feel happy and proud to know she would have loved him and who he was turning out to be.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #imagine #queen band #Single Dad #fractured pieces

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randomscenariosandwritings · 6 years ago

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The Sick, The Sad, and the Shower

~The Sick, The Sad, and the Shower~Optional Bias Imagine

A/N so I know I literally just posted a few hours ago about how I might delete this blog and I’m gonna say right here and now I’m still seriously debating doing that, I just finally worked up the ability to post that because today’s been really crappy and no me waking up tomorrow feeling better will not change my thoughts on the subject I have been seriously debating this for months now I’m just not super in control of my emotions or impulses today so that message finally got posted. Second, as far as this goes it’s the one idea I’ve had recently that I actually really want to pursue mostly because this day has really sucked and I really need to write this and it’s something I think a lot of us can relate to and so I want to at least get it out there just in case someone out there needs it as much as I do. Third, this was written literally all today I started at 7:15 pm Thursday, May 16, 2019 HST and I will post the completion time at the end in short this is gonna suck real bad I’m sorry. Fourth, this also does mean whatever decision I come to regarding my blog it will be up for a while longer so y’all have a chance to try and convince me to do otherwise as one such person has already tried you know who you are you’re an angel and I love you. (Quick hint one really easy way to make sure this blog doesn’t get deleted comment on my stories and tell me you appreciate them or if you don’t want to do that for whatever reason you may or may not have message me/send me an ask I don’t bite I literally get a message scream and freak out for a bit because omg ahh and then I freak out cause I don’t know how to respond I’m just that freaking awkward and anxious you cannot be any more scared to talk to me than I am of talking to you jk that’s a lie we all have different issues and I’m not going to say mine are the worst out there cause that is the biggest falsehood to ever exist) That concludes my really dumb commentary, for now, enjoy this little piece of crap or don’t it’s up to you. Also apologies for this really long mess, it’s cause I’m a mess and don’t know when to shut up. You probably skipped all of this though so I don’t know why I’m apologizing no big deal I would’ve skipped it too, so yeah now I’m really done.

Description: In case you don’t want to read the crappy long story I’m about to put before you here’s a crappy really short summary of what goes down. You’re sick, you’re sad, and you’re in the shower. Then the love of your life your boyfriend/bias/literal angel from on high whom you adore comes home and finds you sick, sad, and in the shower. He shares with you some loving words of wisdom semi-equivalent to shut up, I love you, now let me hug you. In the end, you’re still sick, but now you’re out of the shower and a little less sad because you’ve got a really attractive really amazing boyfriend who supports you and loves you even when you feel absolutely terrible. Congrats now you don’t have to read the story, or if you’re really curious about how this all plays out you can read it anyway. It’ll be just as crappy but a little more heartwarming...I hope...

Genre: It’s a genre all on its own called crappy tales from this random fanfic author, alternatively its fluff with some angst which should be obvious since sad is in the title but none of its good

Warnings: Honestly feel like this category should move up because so far my biggest warning is I’m feeling really pessimistic so all of my commentaries are really salty and bitter and pessimistic I apologize for that it’s just how the day has gone and I can’t find the strength to not behave like a petty and misbehaving child. Otherwise, there shouldn’t be any warnings other than like you’re really down about stuff in the beginning really struggling so if that’s gonna make you feel really down or something don’t read. Otherwise, yeah you should be good but I am not all knowing so if there is something in here that triggers you I apologize right now please let me know so I can warn you in the future if there is one.

Word Count: 2152 words; 11435 Characters

(Not my gif, I will be telling you this until the day this blog and/or I die whichever comes first, credit to whoever owns it don’t know who and if that upsets you fight me)

It had been a long day a really long day full of work and practice and so much other stuff. He was exhausted by the time he got back to the apartment he shared with you the love of his life and his partner. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with you on the couch and fall asleep wrapped together with you while you watched literally anything on the tv screen.

He tossed down his keys and shrugged off his jacket and slid off his shoes putting on the comforting house slippers all the while wondering where in this apartment you could be. Usually, at this time of the evening, you were laying on the couch wrapped in a blanket reading a book or watching a tv show or a movie or doing something in the kitchen. Long story short you were usually in the main entrance of the apartment but then again you’d been sick for the past few days so you were probably holed up in the bedroom. He figured he was right when he heard the soft echo of what was undoubtedly a really loud cough. He sighed worried for you and set down the bag of groceries on the counter and then quickly put them away before going to find and check on you. He walked deeper into the apartment following your coughing and getting sadder with every cough he heard, they all sounded pretty miserable, and he’d be right they well and truly sucked. Then he heard the sound of running water and realized you must be taking a shower. He nodded softly to himself relaxing slightly since he knew you were at the very least taking care of yourself. Nonetheless, he walked up to the door to check on you anyway.

“Hey, baby, just letting you know I’m home. Are you feeling any better today?” He asked after knocking lightly on the door to signal his presence. You heard him, faintly, but you still heard him and a small, very tiny, minuscule little smile grew on your face. Good god how you adored him.

“I’m gonna be completely honest and say no if anything I feel worse,” You responded trying to get your strained voice heard over the water and through the door. For a second you almost laughed at the though over the water and through the door, it reminded you of the children’s song to Grandmother’s house we go, it was such a dumb thing to think of you almost laughed until another cough tore through you.

He frowned after hearing your response and the dreadful cough and at how strained your voice sounded. “Baby, are you crying?” He asked as softly as he could while making sure he could still be heard by you.

“No,” You answered quickly. His silence in response let you know that he didn’t believe you. “Fine, yes, I’m crying, today just really sucked ya know,” You replied no longer hiding the sobs that were racing through you and mixing with the agonizing coughs.

“It’s okay baby, I know,” He replied kindly, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but I’ve had my fair share of bad days so I can empathize, not perfectly mind you but I get the feeling,” He said stumbling over his words a little bit. He was smart and kind you’d give him that, but he wasn’t always the most eloquent speaker especially when he was worried. It was okay though you loved him and everyone struggles with speaking sometimes. There were some days when you just had to wonder if you could really consider yourself fluent in your native language because you just couldn’t seem to get it right all day. That’s off topic though. “Baby, I really want to help you and be there for you, but it’s really hard to talk to you through this door, can I come in? Only if you’re okay with it though,” He asked a moment later. You nodded softly before realizing he did not have x-ray vision and could not see the very small movement of your head which was currently resting up against the shower wall.

“Yes, you can come in,” You answered after your little realization that as wonderful as he is your lover does not have superpowers. You heard the door open and then close again as he came into the bathroom.

He stopped moving and leaned against a wall facing away from the shower so as to not make you uncomfortable. “Do you want to talk about what’s making you cry?” He asked gently.

“I don’t really know, there’s so much, I mean I guess it’s mostly cause I’m sick and in pain...” You began slowly trying to work out your own emotions while you talked to him. “No, it’s more than that,” You realized as you thought back to why you’re really crying because as far as pain goes your throat didn’t hurt that bad and your head didn’t hurt that bad either it just sucked and was annoying and wasn’t great, but it wasn’t tear worthy either. Then it all fell into place and you realized what was making you so tear up and cry, for what was likely the fifth time today. “I’m just tired, so damn tired.”

“Of?” He prompted, knowing you weren’t just talking about not getting enough sleep.

“Of everything, of responsibilities, of being sick, of hurting, of having to go to class, and work, and having to do homework, I just I need to rest like really rest but I can’t and it sucks and it hurts and it’s exhausting and I can’t take it anymore,” You explained the tears starting a new.

“Why can’t you rest?” He questioned trying to figure out what was going on so he could help you.

“Because I have responsibilities, I can’t just drop everything and sail away no matter how much I want to,” You replied before breaking out into another coughing fit.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked suddenly perplexing you for a moment, “Don’t think too much about it just answer the question, can I give you a hug?” He added a moment later knowing you had just started overthinking all of that even though there wasn’t even much to think about.

“Yes, I would love a hug, right now,” You replied and the next thing you knew he was standing in front of you still fully dressed and holding you in his arms. You hugged him back quickly and started crying into him.

“Babe, stop thinking right now, just stop thinking about what you should or shouldn’t do, what you can or can’t do, who you want to be and who you should be, for now just focus on this moment and who you are right now. Focus on my voice and the feel of my clothes, focus on the sound of the water and the feel of it as it hits you, focus on the feel of your hair and your feet against the tile, just focus on the now. Think about who you are, you are amazing and wonderful and strong and hardworking. You have graduated from high school, last semester you had perfect attendance in all of your classes, you’ve been doing amazing work at your job, hell you got promoted. Focus on that for a bit,” He instructed gently as he whispered into your ear. You did as he said and fell into the moment fell into his grip.

“Love, you’re trying so hard and you want so much to be the perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect employee, perfect lover, hell the perfect person. You think you should be all of these and you want to be all of these and while that’s great and it’s wonderful and admirable, but darling it’s unrealistic. No one can or will be perfect and no one should expect you to be perfect if they do drop them like the biodegradable piece of trash they are and then kick them off into the sunset where you never have to think about them ever again.” He said getting slightly off topic.

“Taking one day off to rest and recuperate so you can get healthy isn’t going to ruin everything. You won’t be disappointing your parents if you skip one day of classes, I know for a fact that your parents adore you and are so immensely proud of you and nothing will change that in fact they will only grow to love you more and be proud of you more because you’re going to do amazing things, but you have to be healthy and strong to do those things. Your grades will not plummet past the point of no return if you take one day and miss a few assignments so you can make sure you put your best work forward. Yes, you should at least attempt to do your homework because doing it poorly is better than not doing it at all even a 3% is better than a zero. Don’t argue you can’t math is always right 3 is greater than zero.” He continued still holding you close.

“Finally, your job and employer and co-workers will understand, your health is more important than getting a paycheck and your health is just straight up more important. You cannot be perfect and one day of rest will not ruin everything.” He concluded giving you a tight squeeze. “You are amazing and I love you and you can take a day to take care of yourself the world will not end.”

“Thank you babe,” You replied softly already feeling at least a little better if only evidenced by the halting of your tears.

“Now come on let’s finish getting you cleaned up and out of this shower, then while you get changed I’ll cook us up some soup and set up the couch so we can lay down, cuddle, and binge watch anything you want. Then we’ll go to bed and tomorrow, we’ll spend the day resting and relaxing, and I will take the best care of you,” He said lifting your chin up with his finger so you’d look into his kind eyes which were staring at you with so much love you nearly started crying again.

“You’re an angel, you know that?” You asked gently.

“I do now, now how clean did you actually get in this shower before you were incapacitated by the agony of responsibility and trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders?” He replied with a smile.

“Oh shut up and get out of here, I can finish showering on my own,” You replied smacking his chest lightly.

“Aww but I wanted to dote on you and treat you like royalty,” He replied with a little pout. You shoved him lightly and he smiled before leaving the shower and letting you finish up in the shower. As you did he threw your favorite pair of pajamas, a pair of fuzzy socks, and a blanket into the dryer to warm them up a bit for your enjoyment.

Once you were out of the shower and had dried off he supplied you with the recently warmed items and then went to take his own shower since he was already wet anyway.

You found the soup already heating on the stove and a mountain of blankets and pillows and treats set up in the living room after you got changed into your delightfully warm pajamas. You smiled gently and stirred the soup a little before going to sit on the couch. If he wanted to take care of you, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop him. Especially since you still felt like death itself had climbed in a semi-truck hit you, backed up over you, exited the vehicle stomped on your face, and then stuffed your ears full of random crap lying around.

He was very glad to see you bundled up and relaxing on the couch when he finished with his shower and getting changed and then he quickly went over to dish up your soup and his own and then joined you on the couch with the two bowls and a couple of spoons.

Hours later you were both peacefully passed out on the couch the tv still playing in the background and your dishes haphazardly discarded on the little table in front of the couch with gentle smiles resting on both of your faces. You were truly grateful to have someone in your life who loved you as much as he did, through all your ups and downs.

The next day he kept his word and stayed home all day with you, took care of you, and relaxed. That day you found that without a doubt, love and laughter truly are the best remedies, well that and of course your friendly neighborhood medicine.

A/N Completed at 8:49 pm Thursday night on May 16, 2019 HST Hope this helps you as much as it helped me today. Lots of love guys and take care of yourselves, your health is so important and your responsibilities can wait as long as you need them to so that you can get better.

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