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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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Look Back {Thorin x Reader}

A.N: A thousand thanks to @guardianofrivendell , who kinda kickstarted this entire fic with their great idea (everyone go check out their work, it’s incredible!). Quick note on character ages- after the five years later bit Sigrid is 20, Otto is 3, and Kieran of course is relative to your age. I honestly really enjoyed writing this, even the parts where it made me cry (a good emotional outlet. Send me more angsty requests!) so I really hope it’s what you wanted, Anon!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Thanks for answering my ask about angst! No worries if it'll take a while, so long as you're healthy and not stressing out about it, I will wait cuz your writing is soo worth it)I was wondering if I could request an either thorin x reader(f!human) or kili x Reader(f!human) where the reader is dumped by them and she moves on (like ends up with an elf or another dwarf) and lives a happy life, and thorin or kili regrets having left them and tries to get them back but sees that they lost their One cuz of their mistake and regrets it? (Is that too angsty?? I'm so sorry if it is!)

Word Count: 4,576. The longest thing I’ve ever written is an angst fic. Huh.

Summary: Thorin doesn’t want to push back against the council when they say you cannot be married.

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, OC (I have those now. Huh.) x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Regret, End of Relationship, Sadness, Fluff

Director’s Commentary

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Look Back

“It is the will of the council that, since Y/N is not a dwarf, the two of you shall not be married, and cannot be together.”

Your head jerked up. You had been expecting pushback, but not a flat-out refusal. Turning your head to look at Thorin, you saw him bow his head in defeat.

“Very well. If it is the will of the council.”

The words hit you in the chest like an arrow. You thought he would fight for you, but no. You weren’t worth it. You rose and left without another word, slipping between the doors as the council watched you go. Balin sighed from his seat midway down the stone table, shaking his head in disappointment at the whole room.

Arriving at your rooms, the ones right next to Thorin’s that you had been so proud of, you started shoving your belongings into a sack, leaving anything that had been given to you by your former love out. You didn’t want any reminders of him, even to see him ever again.

Sadly, your wish to not see him didn’t work, as shown very quickly. Barely three minutes after you had entered your rooms, he came bursting through the carved double doors.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t disobey the council.”

You scoffed, grabbing your few tunics and folding them into the bag.

He continued, “You can stay, we can ask again in a few months, give them more time to warm up to the idea.”

“No. If I’m not worth fighting for now, how do I know I’ll be worth it then?”

You were drawing the string closed on your meager bag of belongings. It was rather sad to think how little you actually owned, versus what had been gifted to you by your former betrothed.

“I’m not going to risk my heart like this, Thorin. I can see that I never actually mattered.”

“Y/N-”

You cut him off.

“You’ve broken promises before, but I never thought you’d break this one, Thorin Oakenshield.”

You had been undoing your courting braid as you spoke, and now flung the bead at him. It fell into his hand, and you didn’t even spare a moment for the pain in his eyes as you slammed the door behind you, leaving a king with everything feeling as if he had just lost the one thing that really mattered.

You arrived at the gates to Erebor to see something rather unexpected. The entire company was gathered there, and you stopped in front of them. They were all gazing at you with unshed tears in their eyes, and looking at them you couldn’t believe how far you all had come from that ragged company running for their lives. It made you sad to think about leaving, when the reminders of what you were giving up were all right there.

“I’m sorry about the council, lass.” Balin was the first to speak. “I tried to sway them, but it just couldn’t be done. I’ll keep trying.”

You mustered a small smile for the old dwarf. “Thank you, Balin, but you don’t have to keep beating a dead horse. We both know nothing will come of it.”

Each member of the company stepped forward and said goodbye, hugging you before moving back to the group. Dwalin settled for briefly squeezing you, before stepping back with a muttered, “I’ll miss yeh, lass.” You saw him surreptitiously wipe a tear from his cheek, and giggled a little.

Nori slipped a few coins into your pocket, as well as a set of lock picks. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

Dori was crying as he pressed several bags of tea leaves into your hand. You sniffed them, recognizing the scent of your favorite kind.

Ori was also teary as he quickly wrapped a knitted scarf around your neck. “It gets cold out there,” were his parting words before he retreated to stand next to Dori.

You let out a small laugh as Gloin handed you an ax. “I already have my sword!”

“Yes, lassie, but everyone knows axes are better.” There were gasps of outrage, but you were glad that the dwarf had lightened the mood, even just a little. Besides, the axe truly was gorgeous. A lovely specimen of dwarven craftsmanship, with a beautifully carved handle.

“Is that a dragon?” Gloin nodded, and you marveled at the intricacies.

Bifur approached next, pressing a carving into your hand. You looked at the figure. “That’s me!” He nodded, and you gazed at the detail he had worked in, even the etchings on your sword were visible in the wood.

Bombur handed you a satchel, and you opened it. You gave the dwarf a big hug as you saw the honey-scones packing it to the brim. “My favorite.”

“The recipe is in there too.” You couldn”t resist giving him a second hug of thanks.

Bofur came forward after his brother. “I’d sing you something, but I’m not sure I can do it without crying.” You straightened his hat, which had been set askew by your hug, as he stepped back.

Fili and Kili were last. Fili approached you slowly, but Kili shoved him out of the way and crashed into you. Burying his face in your coat, he whispered, “I really wanted to get to call you Auntie.”

You choked back tears, wrapping your arms around him as his brother joined the hug.

“You’ll write to us?” Fili looked as if he was trying not to cry as well, while Kili had given up and had tears visibly streaming down his cheeks.

“I will.” You broke away with difficulty and gave the group one last look. “Thank you all, so much.” They nodded, and you turned and walked out of the gates, leaving your old love behind.

Thorin watched from the ramparts high above as you left. He knew he had made the right choice for his kingdom, but it hurt. The expression on your face was slowly killing him, and he knew whatever his doubts had been that you had truly loved him. He had loved you too, but he thought he loved his kingdom more. Nevertheless, he found himself hoping that you would turn around, come back, even though he knew he would have to turn you away.

You didn’t turn around.

You didn’t even look back.

*Five Years Later*

You shouldered the door open, arms full of papers. “I’m home!”

“Mama!” A small shape barreled into you and you barely managed to hold onto the papers, handing them to your husband before scooping the three-year-old up.

“Otto! How was your day?” You pressed a kiss to Otto’s forehead before pecking Kieran on the cheek as you brushed by him into the sitting room. There was a fire going, smoke drifting up the chimney and you stood near it, warming hands chilled by the brisk fall air.

“Good! Look what I made!” Otto wiggled out of your grasp and trotted over to the table, where after lots of jumping he finally managed to catch hold of something. He placed it in your lap, and you weren’t sure whether to be mad or touched. You settled for shooting a glare at Kieran before oohing and ahhing over the crudely carved figure.

“It’s you, Mommy! Like the one on the table!”

Examining it closer, you could see something that looked like a sword. It was nowhere near the skill of Bifur’s carving that you still treasured, but it was very sweet nonetheless.

“Wonderful job, darling.”

“Are we going to the market today?” Otto looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Why?” You shot a suspicious glance at Kieran, who assumed a very innocent expression.

“Because Da said that if we went to the market and got ingredients you would make the honey scones!”

“He did, did he?”

Kieran looked guilty as you frowned at him.

“Don’t worry. Let’s put our boots on and head out!”

Otto jumped with excitement and ran to grab his boots.

You crossed your arms and glared at your husband. “I cannot believe you let him use a knife.”

“He’s three! He’s old enough. Besides, I was watching him the whole time.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” You threw your hands up in exasperation before kissing him.

“But don’t worry, I still love you.”

“I love you too.” Kieran drew you in for a deeper kiss, and you responded enthusiastically.

“Let’s go!!” Your moment was interrupted by Otto, practically bouncing with excitement by the door. You laughed at him and wrapped your scarf, still holding up five years later, around your neck. Linking arms with Kieran, you giggled as Otto tugged on his hat from his perch on his father’s shoulders, and walked out the door.

The streets of Dale were bustling, people going to the market, or the King’s house just down your street.

Having been a hero of the Battle of the Five Armies, and one of two members of the company who had seen reason (the other being Bilbo, of course), you had a close friendship with King Bard. When you had marched into Dale after leaving Erebor, eyes still swollen with tears, he and his children had taken care of you, and it was because of him that you had met Kieran.

Two months after leaving Erebor, you had been helping Bard train recruits for Dale’s army. Most of the men disliked being trained by a girl, but one had taken your advice and training exactly as he would a man’s. He had grown skilled, and after striking up a friendship had asked to court you. You had said yes, even though you weren’t over Thorin, but had quickly fallen head over heels in love. Kieran was perfect. He respected your fighting skills and didn’t mind your closeness to the king. He was sweet, kind, funny, and in his eyes every was perfect until proven otherwise. He always saw the best in people, never the worst. In other words, he was everything Thorin hadn’t been, and more.

The two of you were married in a ceremony officiated by the King Bard six months after he had asked to court you, a year after leaving Erebor. Fili, Kili, and Balin had attended the ceremony, sneaking away from their royal duties for a day on the pretense of a diplomatic mission. You had kept your promise to write, and although the news of you finding someone else was hard for the two princes, they were happy your heart had started to heal. You had gotten pregnant two months later, news which was received with joy from everyone who heard. Upon reading your letter announcing the news that Fili decided to show him in the middle of a council meeting (later recognized as an extremely bad decision), Kili had let out a whoop of joy, looking guilty when everyone looked at him and promptly throwing the letter into the fire. You had laughed uproariously upon hearing this story from Fili the next time he made it to Dale. The day that Otto was born, your heart healed more. You still remembered the pain you had felt leaving Erebor, of feeling like you did not matter, but it was better now. You had been able to keep in touch with most of the company, all who had been to visit at some point after his birth. You didn’t know if Thorin knew you had moved on or had a child, but you were getting to the point where you could forgive him, just a little, for the past.

Swinging your hand entwined with Kieran’s, you made your way through the market, stopping at all your favorite stalls to chat and pick out baking ingredients. Noticing Sigrid, Bard’s eldest daughter, picking up honey, you talked while inspecting the jars.

“Da’s been taking half a jar to put in his tea, lately. I think he’s craving sugar.”

“More than usual?”

You laughed at Kieran’s comment. “Tell him we’re making honey scones tonight. I’ll bring some up later.”

“He’ll appreciate that, although hopefully, Bain doesn’t eat them all first like he did last time!”

“I wanna eat all the scones with Bain!” Otto was feeling left out from his perch.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have the company.” Sigrid giggled at him, passing a flower up to him before waving goodbye.

“She’s a good kid.” Kieran looked after her fondly.

“We’re not that much older than she is!” You pointed this out as you brushed flower petals out of his hair, Otto looking sad as his work was undone.

“Now c’mon. We still need to buy more flour, especially if we’re making scones for Bard!”

You set off again, laughing with your family as you wound through the market. You were in the middle of the artisanal section when a hush fell, the sea of people parting as something made its way through. You kept moving forward, pushing people aside to see what was happening, until you came face to face with Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

“Y/N.” He was the first to acknowledge you, looking as if it pained him to do so.

“Thorin.” There were gasps at your familiarity, but you didn’t care. You promptly turned around, grabbing your husband’s hand and dragging him, a silent Otto clinging to his shoulders, away.

You didn’t look back this time, either.

“You didn’t tell me she had a child!”

Thorin was back in Erebor, pacing around his chambers as Balin watched. He had been unable to think properly after seeing you in the market, and Fili and Balin had decided that the best course of action, or at least the one least likely to cause a diplomatic incident, was to reschedule the meeting with Bard and bring him back to the Lonely Mountain.

“You never asked.” Balin had resigned himself to having a hard conversation the minute he saw you in the market, he just didn’t know what exactly that conversation would be like. They had managed to keep the two of you apart for the last five years, but it was bound to happen sometime.

“But...she has a child.” Thorin was devastated.

He had found out that you had kept in touch with the company six months after you left, coming across Kili reading a letter from you in the library. The fact that Kili was in the library in the first place was suspicious enough, and his doubts had been confirmed when he snuck up behind his nephew and read the letter over his shoulder.

His gasp of, “She’s courting someone,” had been loud enough to startle half the library. Kili had jumped and tried to hide the parchment, but Thorin had simply crashed down into the chair, head in his hands.

After taking several deep breaths, all the king said was, “She’s moved on. I have to as well,” before rising and brushing himself off, as if to brush the memories of you away. He had seemed fine, but Fili had heard the muttering coming from his room that night, of loss and grief and mistakes.

After that, they had been much better at hiding their correspondence. The brothers had only decided to tell him about your life one more time, a year after you left, saying you had been married. He had taken that news well, it seemed, but Kili had heard the broken sobs coming from the king’s chambers late that night.

“She cannot be happy with that- that man!” Now, Thorin seemed to be taking this news hardest of all.

“She is, lad. We’ve all seen her with them. They’re a family.” Balin was trying to calm him down, but it just wasn’t working.

“But, she’d be happier here. With me!” He was pacing the room now, raking his hands through his hair in greater distress.

“Thorin,” Balin grabbed him, stopping him so that the two were face to face, “you still love her.”

The king staggered back, falling onto his bed. His head was in his hands again, almost mirroring how he had looked with Kili four years ago.

“Lad?”

“Leave.”

The one word was whispered, quieter than Balin had ever heard his king. He left, closing the door and signaling to the guard outside that the king was not to be disturbed.

The next morning, Thorin walked out of his rooms with an air of purpose about him. He was wearing an old cloak, to not be recognized as the king. Fili and Kili still managed to notice the distinct gait of their uncle and stopped him in the halls right near the gate.

“Where are you going?” Kili looked concerned.

“Balin was right last night. I am still in love with Y/N, so I’m going to bring her back.”

The identical looks of shock on his nephew’s face would have been hilarious in other circumstances.

“You’re still in love with Y/N?!”

“Keep up, Kili!” Fili smacked his brother before continuing.

“Uncle, I hate to say this, but remember how she looked at you yesterday? I don’t think she’ll be happy to see you.”

Kili nodded at his brother’s words. “Besides, you’re the king. How are you going to convince the council when you failed five years ago?”

Thorin looked a little surprised at that, as if he hadn’t quite thought that far ahead, but shook it off. “She will be happy to see me this time. I’m going to Dale.”

“Uncle, no!” Kili tried to block his way, but Thorin shoved past him, disappearing quickly.

“Follow him to Dale, I’ll tell Balin and the rest of the company.” Fili brushed his brother off and turned to go back to the royal wing as Kili disappeared after their uncle.

You were making your way through the twisting streets of Dale, delivering scones to friends as you went. You had stopped at the market to give some to the honey-vendor, who always appreciated them, before turning back the direction you came. You stopped back home to pick up the basket you had made for Bard, walking in on Kieran and Otto stuffing their faces with scones and looking incredibly guilty, before continuing the walk up the hill. You were ushered in by Hakon, as usual (Bard didn’t like keeping servants, he said it made him feel “stuffy,” but a king was afforded certain privileges), and you gave him a grateful smile as he took your heavy scarf to hang up.

“I have scones!” You entered Bard’s office, plopping the basket on his desk from which he immediately grabbed one.

“Delicious.”

You smiled at his praise, laughing as Bain burst through the doorway behind you.

“Did I hear scones?” He quickly dove for the basket, grabbing two.

“One for each hand!” He tried to justify this before shrugging and taking a bite, giving you a thumbs up.

“I’ve got to go home, make sure Kieran and Otto aren’t in a food coma, but I’m glad you like them!”

The king and his son nodded at you, waving goodbye as their mouths were still stuffed with a scone.

“And save some for the girls!” You left with that, laughing at their sad faces.

It was pleasant out, the sort of fall day you looked forward to, so you decided that Kieran and Otto could spare you for a little while, just long enough for you to take a walk on the walls of the city.

The view of the mountain was gorgeous from here. When you had first left, you had spent hours staring, wondering if you had made a mistake by leaving. Now, you just liked to appreciate the view.

“Want to come back?”

You jumped, spinning to see Thorin standing behind you. You hadn’t really paused to look at him the day before, but now you noticed he looked different. Not bad, but it didn’t look as if he’d found happiness the way you had.

He stepped forward. “Y/N. I’ve come to ask you to rejoin me in the mountain.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? Do you want me to move in with my family? That seems like a bad idea.”

“No, Y/N,” he took your hand and you were too surprised to remove it from his grasp, “I want you to be my queen.”

You laughed and jerked your hand away. It wasn’t a sound of amusement, no. It sounded empty.

Hollow.

“We saw how well that went last time.”

“No, Y/N. This time I mean it. Come to Erebor.”

“I’m happy here, Thorin. I have a husband and a child.”

“Your child can come too, and I’m sure I can do much better for you than that man!”

Your cheeks reddened with anger as you balled up your fists, trying to restrain yourself. “I’m happy here, Thorin! I don’t need you to take me to Erebor when I have everything I could possibly want already!”

He looked as if you had physically hit him.

“Y/N, you deserve more than this, though! The council won’t be any trouble this time.”

“And you think you’re the one who can give me what I deserve?” You laughed again, the hollow sound caught by the wind.

“No, dwarf. I have everything I deserve right here and I’m not going to let you ruin it. This is my happiness, and I will be damned if I let you take that away!”

“Y/N-”

“No. I wasn’t worth fighting for then, I know I won’t be worth it now.”

“But I love you, Y/N.”

“And I loved you, once. But you’re too late.”

He watched as you walked away for the third time, knowing that this was the last.

You didn’t look back.

Kieran knew something was wrong the minute you walked through the door.

“Otto, say bye-bye to Mama and get ready to go with Sigrid!” He strode over to you and hugged you quickly before pulling away.

“Sigrid’s going to take Otto for a few hours.”

“Thank you, Sigrid.” You mustered a smile for her as she tugged her boots back on.

“Of course! C’mon Otto, Bain’s waiting!” She giggled as the child trotted out of his room, looking squishy and adorable in his winter clothes.

He ran over to you and you bent down and hugged him.

“I love you, Mama!”

You kissed his forehead before ushering him to Kieran, who got the same treatment before Otto trotted over to Sigrid and grabbed her hand.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Kieran!” You lifted a hand in farewell as they left, waiting for the door to close behind them before collapsing into Kieran’s arms.

He immediately started to murmur to you, whispering reassurances in your ear as he guided you to sit next to him. He waited for your sobs to fade before speaking.

“What happened?”

“I went for a- a walk on the walls and I ran into Th- Thorin,” you choked out, voice breaking when you said his name.

You could see Kieran’s face soften in understanding.

“Did he harm you?”

You shook your head. “He wanted me to marry him. He…” you hesitated as you saw Kieran’s eyes spark with anger, but continued.

“He said you weren’t good enough for me. I told him you were better than I deserved.”

His eyes lightened again and he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you need to talk it out?” That was one of the things you loved about Kieran, he didn’t offer solutions or try to fix all your problems, he just listened. He knew that when you had an issue, you just wanted someone to talk to, not to come up with ideas but just to support you.

You nodded. “I just, I felt so bad for him. And I know I shouldn’t, but he just seems so lonely.”

“Do you want to go back? He’s right, you deserve more than me.”

Your head snapped up. “No! Kieran, why would you think that? I’m happy here. I have the perfect husband and a wonderful child, and I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world.”

He still looked doubtful.

“Kieran, he broke my heart five years ago, and yes, I was in love with him then, but you picked up the broken pieces and helped me heal. I’d never leave you.”

You kissed him on the lips this time, trying to convey just how much he meant to you. “I love you,” you whispered, pulling away.

“I love you too.” He pulled you back in for another kiss. When you broke apart you lay your head on his chest as he moved to lay down.

“Let’s take advantage of the extra rest before Otto gets back.”

You laughed at him and felt the rumble of his chest as his breaths deepened, watching him fall asleep. As you faded into unconsciousness, you couldn’t help but think that after all you’d been through, you were so unbelievably lucky to have found Kieran.

Thorin had never understood what people meant when they called Erebor The Lonely Mountain. Now, walking up to the gates alone, he got it. Something was missing, something that he’d never noticed before but now felt the absence of more keenly than ever. He couldn’t believe that he had failed to win you back. He hadn’t realized just how much he had hurt you five years ago, but the pain in your eyes had made it very clear.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” Kili appeared next to him as he walked up to the gates.

Thorin ignored him, ignored the salutes and waves he got from his subjects as he made a beeline for his rooms, Kili dashing around in his wake to fix the wounded pride of every dwarf he ignored.

Once Thorin made it to his rooms he locked the door behind him, taking slight delight even through his misery at the thump meaning Kili had crashed into it, before collapsing in his chair.

He still was in shock. No, not shock, he was devastated. It had never occurred to him that you would be happy in Dale, wouldn’t want to rule a kingdom. He had thought that he wasn’t in love with you for the better part of five years, and once he realized he still was he hadn’t thought you wouldn’t feel the same.

A knock sounded at the door. “Please let us in, Uncle.”

Thorin sighed and went to undo the bolts.

Fili and Kili entered, both looking much more subdued than usual. Fili took in how Thorin’s coat was thrown on the floor, his boots tossed haphazardly in each direction and sighed.

“What do you need?” Despite knowing how Thorin had hurt you, Kili couldn’t help but feel bad for his uncle. He had never seen Thorin like this. He looked broken.

“I need to be alone.”

His nephews nodded, actually obeying him for once, and slipped out the door.

Thorin was again left alone with his thoughts. Somehow, he had realized that you had been his One. That was why he had said out to make things better. But he had failed. He had lost his One, the only person who he could ever love didn’t love him back.

Thorin buried his head in his hands, letting out a broken sob. For the fourth time in his life, he had failed. He was too late.

Everything tag <3: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1 @boyruins

Thorin tag <3: @lathalea

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

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Unfurl and Fly

Prompt: Hello! I've been meaning to request this for so long but, you'd never posted any Sanders Sides fanfics till recently so I finally get to ask! = D

This is simply a request, but could you possibly to a Hurt/Comfort and Angsty o ed! Virgil fanfiction? Where he hides his wings for whichever reason you want- And it's *painful*, and eventually his wings get to damaged from constantly being hidden and self-groomed and other stuff of the sort and the others find out either accidentally cuz Virgil is in Too Much Pain, or Virgil reaches out- Just, take creative liberties with it! (Platonic LAMP all around- Or you can decide if it's romantic! Idc, whichever you prefer-) = D You can decide whether the others have wings or not, or if it's only the 'dark sides', or no one except Virgil, etc etc. I just have craved this for So Long in your writing specifically!

Whether you decide you would like to do this idea of not, that's fine! ^^ Just thought I'd suggest it! Thank you very much! = D - moonscar

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3 The sequel: Soar

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, found family babes let’s go

Warnings: self-hatred, some implied self-harm, self-destructive behavior, poor Virgil is not having a good time, y’all. Sympathetic Janus, sympathetic Remus

Word Count: 7,932

Out of all of the Sides to have wings, why the fuck did it have to be Virgil?

Come on, it’s not like it even fits with Anxiety, being able to fly? Having these big fucking things sticking out of his back? No thank you, that’s more literally anyone else’s thing! Roman would love it, he’s sure, soaring to great heights and all that. Patton’s the closest one of them to actually being an angel. Logan could use them to fly away from the bullshit.

But nope. Virgil’s the one stuck with them. Isn’t that just fantastic.

Virgil grunts and pulls his hoodie on tighter, zipping it up over the sports bra. He growls and reaches back to tug the wings into place under the layers of fabric, hunching his back so the others don’t notice that there’s conspicuously more mass on his back than there’s supposed to be. Thank god he’s already known for baggy clothes.

He has to walk carefully. Too much jostling and the wings’ll pop loose. He leans on the stairs as much as he can before making his way to the back of the couch. He looks around. No one else is here.

Which would make sense, seeing as it’s three am.

Virgil winces when something twinges in his shoulder blade. His ears strain to pick up the sounds of anyone moving; no floorboards creak, no doors open or close, no sinks or anything else. Shit. Fuck, it’s happening when he’s breathing now too.

Shit.

Wincing, Virgil unzips his hoodie and slowly, slowly starts to lift his shirt up, sliding his hands under the material to try and—

A door opens upstairs and in a flash, Virgil’s hoodie is fully zipped up and his hands are back in his pockets.

Patton walks downstairs, rubbing his eyes. He blinks lazily and turns to go to the kitchen.

“Patton?”

Virgil winces when Patton startles horribly, whirling around until his eyes land on Virgil, perched on the back of the couch.

“You scared me, kiddo,” he pants, leaning against the counter before forcing a smile onto his face, “what’re you doing up?”

Virgil shrugs, trying to hide his flinch when one of his wings snag against something. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.” Patton tilts his head. “Anything I can do to help?”

Patton…Patton might be nice.

Patton would help, right? He—he’d care enough to help. Wouldn’t he? Patton had tried, so hard, when Virgil was first…around, just to make him comfortable, help him fit in, make him feel at…at home.

But—but Patton is the kind of person who would do anything to help someone and Virgil…Virgil doesn’t want that either.

Patton would see his wings—his ugly, dirty, huge wings—and look at Virgil with so much pity that he would be forced to help out. And the thought of hands in his wings was bad enough. The thought of unwilling hands in his wings was even worse.

Not Patton.

Virgil smiles, tightlipped in the dark. “No thanks, padre. ’S just the job.”

It’s a little sad how quickly Patton nods. “I trust you, kiddo, if you say you can do it I believe you.”

A sigh of relief lessens the ache in his shoulder blades for just a moment, then Virgil narrows his eyes. “What’re you doing up right now?”

“Needed a drink!” And sure enough, Patton goes into the kitchen and grabs a glass. “You want one?”

“…no, no I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.” Once the glass is full, Patton yawns, his jaw cracking, before he walks over to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “You gonna try and sleep a little?”

“Maybe.”

“G’night, kiddo.”

“Night.”

Once Patton vanishes back up the stairs, Virgil holds completely still until he hears the door click. As soon as it does, he slumps, burying his head in his hands, ignoring the bolt of white-hot pain that shoots through him. That was too fucking close.

What was he thinking? He can’t be here, not now, not while they hurt so much.

He sinks back to his room, biting his lip to stifle the noise when his wings slip under the bra. Now he won’t be able to get it off without hurting them—fuck why is this is fucking life?

He has to go slow, agonizing second by agonizing second, until the bra lies crumpled at the foot of his bed and he’s panting, sweat beading on his forehead and two new gashes in his lip. He takes one shuddering breath, then two, then—

“Come on, you assholes,” he mutters, “just…fucking cooperate for me.”

His wings creak and groan as he unfurls them, stretching them out until his throat protests with the effort of holding back a scream. He bound them wrong this time. One of the tendons is twisted, slipped over the bone on his right wing and every flex threatens to rip it entirely. His eyes, screwed tight from the effort, blink away tears, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He forgot to cover it again.

Virgil winces when he sees the state of his wings. The primaries aren’t lying flat, the secondaries are all bent out of shape, he can see the loose feathers stuck in the rest of the mess, and his oil gland must be clogged again. He can hear everything rasping together, the creaking, and everything. He—he has to try again.

Slowly, he sits down in front of the mirror, crossing his legs and sitting up as much as he can. He holds his wings out and winces at the sharp yank. Flexing his fingers, he reaches out with his hand and starts combing through his feathers. He can’t get the right angle no matter how much he twists his wrists and trying to hold the wing in place doesn’t work either. But he’s able to pull a few of the loose feathers out. It doesn’t matter that he plucks out several of the remaining healthy ones as well.

Alright. Step one done.

Virgil braces himself and twists, reaching out quickly for his wing before his back pulls away from him. He grabs it with two outstretched hands and can’t stop the cry of pain when another sizzling bolt races down his spine. He can barely hold onto it for three seconds before he has to let go. A roll of nausea makes him retch, hunched over himself, tears springing anew to his eyes.

Pathetic.

Can’t even clean yourself properly.

Worthless.

Useless.

Dirty.

The room rings with shuddering breaths as his chest heaves, the pain still zinging through his wings. He can’t. He can’t do it. He can’t clean them properly, not now, maybe not ever. He fucking bound them wrong, like an idiot and now he has to sleep on his stomach and if someone walks in they’ll see them and he won’t be able to bind them properly if they don’t heal and—

The fucking worst thing about his wings is they always try and make things better. They twitch whenever he’s near someone he likes or bristle when he feels upset. And when he’s alone, all by himself, about to have a panic attack, they always try and hug him.

So Virgil cries there, on the floor, surrounded by his ugly, dirty, painful wings.

He sleeps on the floor that night too, a few pillows here and there to keep him from pressing his face directly into the ground, wings as outstretched as he can until he can ignore the pain long enough to fall into a fitful, uneasy rest. When he wakes, the joints are still tender and he curses, knowing if he tries to bind them again it’ll just get worse. That means a day of staying in his room, which by itself wouldn’t be awful except that the others would know.

When Virgil was alone, he could have his wing day all by himself and no one would care. He could stay shut up in his room without fear that someone would come and knock on the door, wondering where he was, if he was okay, did he need anything? He’d tried, he’d tried so hard to convince himself that alone was better, alone was safe, alone protected him.

But the others were magnets, always pulling him closer, closer, closer until he was bound within them. How was he supposed to pull away from that warmth, that care, when every time he was close to it his wings reached out? He had to start binding them when he first appeared to Thomas, yes, but it wasn’t until recently that he had to start binding them. Because they would reach for the others. All the time.

He couldn’t have that.

So he tied them up.

And it was worth it. It was worth being able to stand next to Roman, to see that smile up close. It was worth being able to stand next to Logan, to hear him talk and explain everything he could ever want to know. It was worth being able to stand next to Patton, to feel warm and safe.

The pain was worth it, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

The others couldn’t know about his wings. If they did, they might—they would—

Only dark sides had animal traits. If they knew Virgil had wings—

Virgil shakes his head and groans into the pillow. He can’t go back. Not after what he’s done. He can’t—he won’t—there isn’t—

He barely remembers being small. He remembers being scared, being afraid, fumbling in the dark, but he almost never remembers being small. Small enough where he didn’t know yet to be afraid to ask someone for help, when hands in his wings weren’t tied up with problems or intimacy or care or obligation. Small enough where he could cuddle into the lap of someone who loved him and not have to worry.

He remembers getting older and being scared, huddling in the dark with the others.

He remembers rubbing his hand over shedding scales. He remembers helping rub away the twitches in newly formed tentacles. He remembers hands, hands in his wings.

Those memories are locked away, behind bars Virgil won’t let himself bring down.

A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

Fuck, does his throat sound like that?

“Virgil?” Logan. “Are you alright?”

“What the fuck is an alright,” Virgil mutters, pushing himself up off the ground and wincing, before raising his voice, “I’m fine, Logan.”

“You didn’t come down for breakfast—“ shit— “and we were concerned.”

“Didn’t feel like coming down,” Virgil tries, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably, “but I’m all good here.”

“Are you certain?”

Logan…Logan would help.

Logan would understand things from a logical perspective. He would be the most business-like about it, just doing what needed to be done and leaving. He might find it…interesting? He would get it over with.

He would…get it over with.

A human figure having wings is illogical. Virgil doesn’t want to be stared at like some sort of…object. And…and…Virgil wants to be cared for, not treated like a chore. The desire burns a shameful hole in his gut, the craving for soft words and gentle touches accompanied by flaming cheeks and a roll of disgust. He doesn’t think he’d be able to hold back the tears at being treated so…coldly, even if it would be better for him.

Not Logan.

“I’m sure,” Virgil grits out, “thanks, though.”

“Of course. Will we see you for dinner?”

Swallows before his tongue chokes him. “Dunno.”

“Very well.”

He hears Logan walk away and cringes. That was awful. But he’s made a commitment now, so he has to get ready for dinner. Four hours should be enough.

Sitting up is a slow process and every few moments he has to stop when his vision grows spotty. He flexes his wings, watches the shape twist back for a few seconds before he has to relax it again. The ache has dulled slightly and maybe he can try again.

Raising his arms straight above his head, muscles straining, shaking, Virgil bites his lip and holds for one, two, three seconds until he cries out and lets them drop. Nope. No way. If he can’t even do that, he’s not gonna be able to pull the sports bra over his head, much less get his wings tucked into position. He winces and looks around for the belt.

He hates using the belt but it is easier on his shoulders. Instead of tucking the whole folded-up mess into the sports bra, he folds his wings up as small as they’ll go and wraps a belt around them, straining behind him and valiantly ignoring how much it hurts until he’s sure he’s got it around the joints. He lets go with a gasp, rolling his shoulders experimentally. It still aches, yes, but much less, and as he turns to the side, if he just wears a big enough shirt, with his hoodie on, no one will notice.

That means he can use the rest of the time to get used to it.

By the time he walks down to dinner, the others are waiting, Roman’s face lighting up in a huge smile as he sees Virgil round the top of the stairs.

“There’s our little Stormcloud!” He waves Virgil over to the chair next to him. “Haven’t seen your gloomy face all day, I’ve missed it!”

Virgil snorts. “You’ve just missed seeing another version of you, Princey.”

“Can you blame me, Hot Topic?” Roman winks. “We’re gorgeous.”

“The fact that we all share a face should not be surprising to you,” Logan remarks as he closes his book.

“Aw, you think I’m hot.”

“Pasta!” Patton places the pot on the table and Virgil winces when the sound makes his wings twitch. He doesn’t catch Roman’s concerned look. “Who wants what?”

“Just olive oil for me.”

“You got it, Logan.”

“I’ve got mine,” Roman announces, sweeping half of the condiments on the table toward him and combining them in…a way.

“…jeez,” Virgil mutters.

Patton rolls his eyes fondly as Logan and Roman start idly bickering about the appropriate condiments for pasta. A steaming bowl slides to a stop in front of him and without pausing, Roman passes Virgil the jar of sauce.

Virgil watches the jar slide to a stop in front of him, blinking up at Roman who just gives him a quick wink and goes right back to bickering with Logan. Patton giggles as Logan pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously trying to hide his smile as Princey grins. It’s a game now, to see which one of them will break character first. Princey’s the actor, but Logan’s got an incredible deadpan face. And when he’s in a playful mood the two of them can go at it for hours. Virgil and Patton just sit back to watch the show.

As it turns out, both of them break character at the same time tonight, Logan stumbling over a word, and Princey accidentally slurring Logan’s name as he tries to come up with a comeback. Logan immediately tries to hide his smile behind his hand only to snort when Princey screws his face up in protest.

“How did I manage to do that,” he cries, “I said—what the hell did I say?”

Patton’s laughing too hard to answer and Virgil just shakes his head helplessly.

Logan snorts. Tries to stifle it again. Then his giggles start to slip out. “D-damn it.”

Roman gives up trying to stop his own cackles and throws his head back, letting it ring out. “We were doing so well, too!”

“We were indeed,” Logan says through a smile, “perhaps we should try again.”

“No, no, no, I won’t be able to get any words out before I’m reminded of whatever the heck my tongue did.”

“What word were you trying to say?”

“I don’t even remember.”

Dinner gets finished and Logan stands to help Patton clean up. Roman leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. Virgil watches him, his eye first caught by the movement, lingering when he sees the rush of relief on Roman’s face.

Is…is that what stretching is supposed to feel like?

“Stormcloud?”

Virgil blinks. Oh. Oh, fuck, he’s staring. Roman stares down at him, his head tilted.

“You’ve been quiet today, Stormcloud,” Roman says, too low for Logan or Patton to hear, “everything Gucci?”

Nope. Princey’s not allowed to do that. Definitely not. He’s not allowed to sound that caring because Virgil will talk to him.

“Everything’s fine.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Roman halfheartedly as he chuckles.

He goes to pull his hand back but Roman catches it, making him wince when his wings jar. This time he doesn’t miss Roman’s look of concern.

“Virgil,” Roman calls, “are you hurt?”

Yes. “Nah. Just slept weird.” On the ground, in pain.

“You don’t want me to sic Patton on you, do you?”

Virgil shudders, ignoring the twinge in his wings again. “No. Nope. I’m good.”

Roman chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. “Alright. You just come and tell me when you need something, hmm?”

Roman…maybe Roman?

Roman, who is desire and passion and so, so warm to the touch. Roman, who has tried so, so hard to make Virgil his friend, to care for him. Roman, who looks at Virgil with soft expressions and sly winks and is just so there.

…Roman, who treated him like a villain. Roman, who Virgil knows struggles to keep his own head above water most of the time. Roman, who can put on a mask to rival any actor’s, who can hide everything so well they might never know what’s really going on.

Not Roman.

“…yeah, sure, Princey.”

“Marvelous!”

And despite everything, despite the pain in his wings and the belt digging into the soft points of his feathers, Virgil smiles, just a little.

If this is what he has to deal with to be a part of this, then he’ll do it.

Then Deceit shows up and Virgil panics.

Not because of what this means, not because of how it’s going to affect Thomas, but because Deceit knows.

Deceit knows that Virgil has wings. Deceit knows that Virgil is a dark side. Deceit knows that Virgil hasn’t told the others.

He’s safe—at least he thinks he’s safe—because if Deceit tells them about his wings, he’d have to tell the others he sheds too. And Deceit won’t ever volunteer information about himself like that. Virgil has one moment of panic on the witness stand, thinking Deceit’s about to split his defenses wide open, but no, no, he’s wings stay tucked up, ugly and rumpled, Virgil’s very own dirty little secret.

Luckily—or unluckily—there are too many other things to focus on for Deceit to let slip that particular little secret. Virgil is too worried about Thomas and Patton and Roman and Logan and everything to worry any more about his wings. He runs on adrenaline and worries for days, weeks, months until it’s all he can think about, over and over, coffee being drained as quickly as Logan can brew it.

He plucks out his own feathers in the dark and washes the blood off the carpet. He strains to move his arms, his shoulders, anything, just to get a little more range of motion. He wipes the crusted salt from the corner of his eyes and grits his teeth.

Then Remus shows up and does what Remus does best: wreak absolute chaos.

Roman is knocked out, Logan gets a shuriken in the forehead, and Virgil tells Thomas he used to be a dark side.

The second he sinks into his room after that he tears at himself, his hoodie thrown to the corner of the room as his wings groan and buckle and writhe as Virgil paces.

Why did he do that why did he do that now he knows now they know now it’s going to be so much worse they’re going to hate me again I’m going to be alone alone is safe alone protects me but alone is cold and lonely and alone hurts it hurts I hurt make it stop please—

He’s panicking, he knows he’s panicking, he knows he should go, go find someone, have Logan help him, talk to Roman, get a hug from Patton, but his wings are out, he can’t put them away and they hurt, they hurt so much, everything hurts so much, he just wants it to stop.

Virgil collapses onto the floor, ignoring the sickening crunch as one of his wings buckles under his weight. It just…it just hurts.

Thomas doesn’t say anything.

Patton doesn’t say anything.

Logan doesn’t say anything.

Roman doesn’t say anything.

Remus doesn’t say anything.

Janus doesn’t say anything.

And somehow…somehow that’s worse.

It doesn’t get easier, it just gets repetitive.

He doesn’t try to get the spots he can’t reach anymore. He knows he can’t get the oil glands cleaned. He washes them as best he can but he knows he can’t dry them properly. He wears the sports bra. He wears the belt.

He endures.

Then he fucks up.

Janus has been watching him. In fairness, Janus watches everybody, but he’s been keeping a particularly close eye on Virgil. If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d think Janus was suspicious of him, that he’d do something to ruin Janus’s seat at the table, or hurt the others, or try and turn them against each other. It would make sense, given their…history.

But Virgil knows Janus better than that.

He knows that look and that’s why he shies away from it.

He lashes out and he hates himself for it. He scorns Janus’s attention and has to hold back a gag. He slams his door shut and claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying.

He can’t let himself stop now. If he stops he’ll fall apart. He’s been numb for so long he wants to stay numb, can’t start feeling it again or—or—

He can’t. He just can’t. The dark sides may be accepted now but that says nothing about Virgil.

Which is why it is so, so stupid that Janus chooses to stand next to Logan when the next session comes. Because he’s right there, so close, where Virgil can practically feel his presence prickling along his left side and he’s so glad he bit the bullet and wore the sports bra today because his wings are straining to reach for him.

But then Remus pops up next to Roman and Virgil visibly flinches.

He’s able to pass it off as surprise but the knowing look Janus gives him tells him Janus can see right through him.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t. He left the dark side ages ago, he shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—

He shouldn’t be aching for them. For all of them. His wings shouldn’t be bristling and yearning and his back shouldn’t feel like it’s splitting in two right now.

His mind shouldn’t be filled with thoughts of the soft touches they would give him as the helped groom his wings, the gentle jabs and playful barbs tossed back and forth as they supported each other.

He shouldn’t feel so cold.

The debate is already going, Logan and Patton tossing things back and forth, Roman and Remus doing the same. Janus adds a comment here and there, Thomas frantically trying to keep track of all of them. It’s far too easy for Virgil to withdraw, sink into his head, focus on keeping his wings in, make them stop, ignore the ache.

Someone shouts right next to his ear and without thinking, Virgil reaches out and grabs Janus’s cloak.

He freezes.

Fuck fuck fuck he fucked up he fucked up—

Why the fuck had he done that? Was it just because he was scared? He’s Anxiety, he’s always scared, why had this made him do something he hadn’t done since he was tiny?

He’s not some frightened child anymore, tugging on his parent’s clothes to beg for scraps of comfort. Is this what he fucking wants, to be coddled, told pretty lies about how everything was fine?

Too late, he realizes he’s still holding on and tries to let go quickly enough that no one will notice.

It only partially works.

The others are too busy scolding Remus—who just looks very pleased with himself—to notice. Except for Janus.

Of fucking course Janus notices.

Virgil shoves his traitorous hands into his pockets. He hunches his back, not caring that it makes his wings strain against the fabric of his hoodie. The only one who could see them right now is Janus and Virgil’s already dug his grave there, hasn’t he?

He just wants this to be over so he can go and Janus will stop looking at him.

The video ends and he can’t be the first one to sink out of the common area, that will draw attention, he can’t draw any more attention, but the longer he stays then someone will ask him something and he doesn’t want to—

Oh.

He blinks. Is…is the room empty? Oh. He can sink out now.

…or he could stay here.

The others tend to go cool off in their rooms after heated videos, just until they can all come out and make nice again. Virgil…Virgil has the common room to himself.

“Virgil?”

Fuck.

“…hey, Janus.”

“Hello,” Janus says softly, and no, no, no, don’t do that.

Janus is being kind and it’s so hard for Virgil to just stand here and not let his wings rip out of the hoodie. He didn’t sink out, he stayed, of course he fucking stayed, Virgil tugged on his cape like a little kid—

Virgil curses under his breath, collapsing to sit on the steps. He ignores Janus’s soft noise of concern and balls his hands up, beating out an erratic rhythm on his legs. His back hurts. His shoulders hurt. His wings hurt. Now his legs hurt. Now his hands hurt.

Something grabs his hands and pulls them over his head. The searing pain tears a cry out of his throat.

“Shh, shh—“ Janus, it’s Janus— “none of that now, sweetie.”

“Let me go.” It’s meant to come out as a snarl but instead, here Virgil is, whimpering at Janus’s feet.

“Will you keep hurting yourself if I let you go?”

No, Virgil wants to lie, yes, he wants to say just to spite him, what comes out of his mouth is neither of these.

“You’re hurting me,” he pants, “you’re—it hurts.”

Janus is silent above him, still holding his arms firmly above his head. Virgil chokes back a sob in the agonizingly painful position, barely suppressing his cries enough to still his shoulders which of course did nothing to alleviate the pain. Then another hand—right, he has six—touches gently beneath his chin, guiding his head up.

Virgil meets such an open expression of concern that tears spring to the corners of his eyes. He looks away immediately, only for Janus to crouch in front of him. He keeps a hold of Virgil’s hands but the release in his shoulders is enough to make him gasp.

“Sweetie,” Janus calls, “sweetie, look at me.”

“No.”

“Virgil, I need you to look at me.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil looks up at Janus. Janus squeezes his hands once.

“When was the last time you had your wings groomed?”

Virgil’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

“Y-yesterday.”

“Did you do it yourself?”

“…yeah.”

“When was the last time someone else helped you groom them properly?”

Virgil swallows heavily and doesn’t say anything.

“…oh, sweetie, have you not had anyone help you groom them since��?”

Janus doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before Virgil’s nodding, the shameful secret finally spilling out. It’s Janus, he rationalizes, he knows how to keep a secret, right?

“Why haven’t you told them,” Janus murmurs, his voice broken, “why, sweetie?”

“Because telling people things is always so easy,” Virgil snarls.

Janus accepts it with a slow nod, reaching out to cup Virgil’s cheek. On instinct, Virgil jerks back, unable to get away from the touch because of the grip on his hands. Janus’s eyes widen.

“…oh, sweetie…”

“Don’t tell them,” Virgil blurts out, “please don’t tell them.”

“You’ve been hurting yourself, Virgil,” Janus whispers, “so badly, I can’t let that continue.”

“I’ll—I’ll fix it, I can fix it—“

“You know you can’t do this by yourself, honey.”

“I have to,” Virgil cries out finally, “I have to, I can’t—I messed up, I messed everything up, I have to do it alone now, I have to—“

“What did you mess up, sweetie?”

“You a-and Remus and I can’t—I can’t ask you ‘cause I messed it up so bad—“

“Shh, shh,” Janus soothes instantly, reaching out with another pair of hands to cup Virgil’s face properly, “you haven’t lost me, sweetie, you haven’t messed anything up so badly. You know you can come to me for help, you can always come here.”

“But you’re—“

“What, sweetie,” Janus prompts when Virgil cuts himself off, “what am I?”

Nope. Because Virgil can’t even use the dark side excuse anymore because now the dark sides are accepted. He has no fucking excuse. He has no justification for why he’s doing this. He’s—he’s—

He’s hurting himself.

“It hurts,” he whispers instead, “m-make it stop.”

“Do you have enough energy to sink out, sweetie?” Virgil shakes his head. “Okay. I need you to stand up for me, honey.”

Getting to his feet is a slow process, Janus murmuring encouragement as they go. He sets Virgil’s hands gently against the stair railing and whispers that he’ll be right back, he just has to grab some things, wait here, please? Virgil lets him go and clutches the railing for dear life, trying to keep the waves of nausea inside thank you very much.

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen him?”

“I knocked on his door, he didn’t answer.”

“So?”

“So I…tried the knob.”

“Roman!”

“I know, I know, I’m not supposed to, but I was worried and he isn’t in there, so—“

“Wait, he’s not in his room?”

“No! That’s the problem!”

“Well then where is he?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I came to find you two!”

“Wait…Virgil?”

No, no, no—

“Stormcloud,” Roman breathes from the top of the stairs, racing down, “there you are, we’ve been looking for you!”

“What’re you doing down here, kiddo,” Patton asks worriedly, “are you…you don’t look so good.”

Logan hustles around the end of the stairs to face him and no, no, Virgil doesn’t want this, not now—

“Virgil,” Logan calls softly and he sounds so much like he cares— “Virgil, are you having trouble standing?”

Virgil nods jerkily.

“Let’s have you sit down, then,” he continues gently, trying to cover up the shake in his voice.

When he doesn’t move, Roman can’t help himself. He walks forward, his arms opening to hover around Virgil’s waist.

“Can I carry you, Stormcloud,” he asks, “just to the couch?”

What does he do? He can’t say no, not when they look so worried. They just keep asking questions, they’ll just—but Janus asked him to wait for him, but standing is so hard and they all look so worried—

He nods again.

Logan carefully places his hands around Roman’s neck as Roman scoops him into a princess carry, heading for the couch. He sits down in the middle, holding Virgil as securely as he can, looking up when Logan crouches in front of them, nervously adjusting his tie. Patton sits on his side, pulling Virgil’s legs into his lap.

“What do we do?” Roman whispers. “I don’t—what do you need, Stormcloud?”

Logan nods encouragingly, still looking at Virgil with his brows drawn until realization dawns on his face.

“Virgil,” he says as he gets up to sit beside Roman, resting his hands on Virgil’s shoulders to encourage him to lean against him, “are you…is your ‘everything machine’ breaking?”

Oh.

Yeah, that’s what’s happening.

It’s Roman’s turn to have the ‘aha’ moment when he nods, taking one of Virgil’s hands and tenderly pressing a kiss to it. Logan keeps a steady, grounding pressure on his sides as Roman carefully lies him on the couch, going to the kitchen.

“Can you sit up? It’s perfectly alright if you can’t,” Logan assures quickly, “but it might be easier to drink something if you are upright.”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “we’ll go slowly, alright? If you feel dizzy or light-headed at any point, squeeze my hand and you can lie back down.”

As promised, by the time they’re fully sitting up, Logan’s hand still on his shoulder, Roman’s breezed back in with a tissue box, a glass of water, a glass of orange juice, and a mini french loaf on a tray, set it all down on the coffee table, pulled the table close enough where he can perch on the edge, and reached out to take his hand again. Patton rubs encouraging circles into his knee, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

Virgil can’t move. He doesn’t know what to do. He—they feel so warm, they keep touching him so gently, it—his wings are straining.

He whimpers when Logan’s hand lands on his back and Logan moves away immediately. The loss of contact has him itching to reach out but he can’t can’t can’t—

“Well.”

Janus.

Virgil blinks, and sure enough, there he is, standing with his hands clasped out of sight. Distantly, Virgil thanks that he’s still trying to keep Virgil’s secret, hiding whatever he has behind his back. He makes eye contact with Virgil and asks a silent question.

Virgil can’t respond.

“Janus,” Patton says, “do you—do you know what’s going on?”

“Can we help,” Roman blurts, “with whatever it is?”

Logan stays silent, gaze going back and forth between Virgil and Janus. Janus doesn’t take his eyes off Virgil.

He’s waiting, Virgil realizes, to see if I’m going to let them help.

…he doesn’t really have a reason not to anymore, does he?

Logan leans closer, his lips barely brushing Virgil’s temple.

“Please,” he whispers, “please, dearheart, let us help care for you.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“…help.”

It’s loud enough for Janus to hear and he nods sharply, sitting down on the floor and holding out his arms. “You’re going to need to pass him to me. Be careful of his back.”

It takes the other three to get him tucked up against Janus’s chest before they shuffle back, wary. Janus wraps his lowest pair of arms around Virgil’s hips, holding him close.

“You just focus on me, sweetie,” he whispers, much too quiet for the others to hear, “and if you want them gone, you say so, okay?”

“R-Remus?”

“Remus is coming, sweetie, he found me looking for your things.”

“You kept them?”

“Of course we kept them.” Janus rests their foreheads together. “Of course we did.”

Janus holds him close, whispers a few more soft words, until Virgil nods and lets him unzip his hoodie.

“How, sweetie?”

“…sports bra.”

He can hear Janus swallow a noise of protest before he nods. “I’m going to have to cut them off, it’s going to hurt too much if we try and pry it off you.”

“But—“

“Sweetie,” Janus hushes, “you’re losing circulation, it’s not good for you.”

Virgil shudders. “…does that mean you have to cut off m-my shirt too?”

“Do you think you can hold your arms up long enough to get it off?”

“…no.”

Janus holds him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Against his better judgment, Virgil turns and tucks his head into the crook of Janus’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent. “…always are.”

“I’m going to need the others to help me, help you, okay?” When Virgil nods, he can feel Janus look at the others, can feel the way his face changes.

“Roman.”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I need you to get Virgil’s hoodie off.”

“O-okay,” Roman says, and Virgil can hear him shuffle up behind them, “is it already unzipped?”

“It is.”

“Here we go, Stormcloud,” Roman says softly, sliding the battered old thing from Virgil’s shoulders like it’s some fine silk garment, “you’re doing great…there. Where should I—“

“On the couch.”

There are a few more rustlings and then Janus’s mouth appears by Virgil’s ear again.

“I’m going to cut them off now. You just hold still for me, alright?” Virgil nods and Janus squeezes him around the waist. “Good.”

He turns his attention to the others. “Virgil has decided to trust you with this. I have decided to trust you with this. Betray that trust and you will not like the consequences. Am I clear?”

Murmured assurances. Then the soft rip, rip, riiiiiip of fabric, and the pressure on his wings releases.

Virgil’s sure Janus is talking from the vibration of his throat and he’s also sure the others are saying something back, but he can’t hear anything right now over the rush of blood in his ears from his wings unfurling, creaking, in all their ugly, dirty glory.

He winces, tries to stretch them, only to hear a cry of dismay from over his shoulder and an ‘oh, sweetie,’ from Janus. The tendon snaps back out of place and his wings slump.

“Virgil,” Janus says next to his ear, “Virgil, Remus is here now. Do you think you can explain what we need to do or would you like us to?”

Virgil should explain. It’s his problem. It’s his responsibility.

But…but it would be nice to not have to…for once. To…to let them take care of him.

“…c-can you?”

“We can.”

He feels another warm hand on his bare side and Remus’s voice in his ear.

“Hey,” Remus says, “you really are a mess right now, huh?”

Coming at any other time, it would be an insult. But right now, laced with concern, Remus’s statement sends a rush of warmth down Virgil’s spine.

“We need to get the tendon reset first,” Remus says. Someone shuffles over to join him. “You know what you’re doing?”

“I think so.” Oh. It’s Logan. Logan knows what he’s doing. Good, good. “Hold still for us, dearheart.”

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Logan stammers, “but we’ve got it now.”

“You’re gonna be sore for a bit, little monster,” Remus says, “but Logan’s right. You’re all reset now. You wanna stretch it out? Carefully?”

Virgil does, tentatively extending his wing and it—it feels better. Well, it feels bruised and sore and achy—but it feels better.

“It…it’s back,” Virgil says in a strangled whisper, “it’s back.”

“Yes, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Virgil drifts. In and out. He hears Remus explain how to straighten his feathers, feels two strong steady hands carding through them, Looks up to see Roman, expression more focused than he’s ever seen, sees that expression melt when he catches Virgil’s eyes. Plucks a loose feather out and lays it in a growing pile.

Feels two more on his other side and looks around to see Patton doing the same, running his fingers through the primaries, secondaries, up to the covets, and through the scapulars. Feels his fingers linger just where the tips of the feathers brush Virgil’s bare back, stroking reassuring rhythms where he lands.

Janus still has two of his arms holding Virgil in his lap. With Virgil’s nod, he slowly raises Virgil’s arms above his head again, letting the others have access to the rest of his wings. With his last two hands, he starts smoothing the bottom of his wings, lingering in the spots where Virgil winces, gently tugging and adjusting until everything’s just right.

A flash of movement and he sees Remus over Janus’s shoulder, grabbing a spray bottle and two hairbrushes. He ruffles Virgil’s hair as he goes back around, warning him before he starts gently spraying Virgil’s wings, passing the hairbrushes to Roman and Patton with the instructions to try and get as much of the gunk out as possible.

“You,” Roman murmurs as he works, “are magnificent, Virgil, just look at you.”

“Don’t,” Virgil manages, “please don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing,” Roman promises, brushing a part of his wing that sends a shudder down his spine, “you’re…you’re—these are spectacular, Virgil, truly.”

Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…ugly.”

“What?”

“…they’re ugly.”

“Of course they’re not, what do you…” Roman turns to him. “Stormcloud, who told you that?”

“…me.”

“Falsehood,” comes Logan’s voice from directly behind him, “your wings are indeed quite splendid.”

“Because they’re interesting?”

“Because they are a part of you,” Logan corrects softly, “and yes, because they are interesting.”

“We love you, kiddo.” Patton reaches up to squeeze his hand. “That means all of you, even your wings.”

Virgil opens his mouth to respond when hands slip through his feathers and every breath is stolen from his body.

“Here,” Logan says softly, “are they here?”

“Yep. Feel around in there a little, you should find the—“

“Here.”

Two thumbs swipe over the glands and Virgil shudders, right down to the tips of his wings. Logan pauses, leaning forward and doing it again. Virgil shudders harder, warmth shooting through his body, so warm, so warm. Then Logan’s hands start spreading the oil through his feathers and Virgil can’t.

“Shh,” Janus soothes, holding him tightly, “shh, I know, sweetie, just hold on…you’re doing so well.”

“Be gentle, Logan,” Roman orders, his gaze fixed on Virgil’s face.

“I am.” Logan does it again and Virgil gasps. “This area is simply…sensitive.”

Virgil swallows. “…haven’t…haven’t been able to…to…”

“You have not been able to reach these areas yourself,” Logan finishes when Virgil can’t make words happen anymore, “and so the sensation is heightened by the newness of it.”

“Y-yeah.”

Then Roman’s hand brushes over his alula and he whimpers.

“S-sorry.”

“Would I be mistaken in saying this is quite…an intimate action?” Virgil shakes his head at Logan’s question. “Then you do not need to apologize. Trusting others with this level of intimacy is difficult, and you are doing very well.”

“You are, kiddo,” Patton adds when Virgil makes a noise of protest, “and you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. It’s okay that you’re sensitive, it’s okay.”

“Is this alright, Stormcloud,” Roman asks softly as he keeps brushing the feathers, “can we keep going?”

“Mhm,” Virgil mumbles, head lolling forward, “mhm.”

“Good.”

As they finish removing the clearly damaged feathers, the real grooming starts. Roman and Patton start gently tugging here and there to pull out loose and broken feathers, pushing the ones that are just slightly crooked back into place. The hairbrushes, with nice wooden spokes, split the feathers easily without a snag as Logan carefully works the oil throughout. Remus slips down, carefully spreading the oil over Virgil’s back, kneading out the tension from his sore muscles. Janus holds him steady, murmuring softly.

Virgil floats, punch-drunk on the fuzzy feeling from Logan’s hands, Patton’s hands, Roman’s hands, Remus’s hands, Janus’s hands. It’s so warm, so warm, as he feels the lingering strings of hurt and tension slowly and persistently untangled from his wings.

“I think that’s everything,” comes Logan’s soft voice an uncertain amount of time later, and yet none of the hands move away.

“You’re so pretty, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, running his hands through the feathers, “so, so pretty.”

“Guess you really did dig the purple, huh?” Remus gives Virgil’s hair a ruffle. “I think these are the best these have looked in a while.”

Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…yeah, well…”

Janus shushes him. “It doesn’t matter, now, sweetie. It’s okay.”

“You were hesitant because being vulnerable is hard,” Logan adds, still stroking up and down the joint of his wings, “that isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

Virgil opens his mouth to reply when Logan’s fingers skitter over the spot right under the joint and he cries out.

“…Virgil?”

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil simply shudders, his back arching. Slowly, he does it again, smiling when Virgil all but purrs.

“I think he likes that,” Patton says quietly, “don’t you, kiddo?”

Virgil whines.

“Where else are you sensitive,” Roman murmurs, scritching his fingers lightly along the top of Virgil’s wing, “where else, Stormcloud?”

“I don’t think he’s got command of words right now,” Remus chuckles.

“If Virgil’s wings are anatomically similar to bird wings,” Logan murmurs, “then…”

Roman’s hand is tangled in his alula. Patton’s hands are rubbing at the crook of his wings. Logan’s thumbs stroke over the oil glands again.

Virgil’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry.

Remus’s thumbs suddenly dig into the space between his shoulder blades, startling a short moan out of him. He hears a chuckle from over his shoulder.

“Does that feel good, dearheart,” Logan murmurs, his nails scraping lightly over the soft skin where Virgil’s wings met his back, “right there?”

Virgil’s only response is a long, low, drawn-out sound that would have been mortifying had he any control over his brain right now.

“Oh, wow,” Patton mumbles from the side.

Roman reaches up and wiggles his fingers next to Logan’s and Virgil keens.

Janus chuckles, lowering Virgil’s arms around his neck and reaching out to scritch lightly at the marginal covets. “You’re about to get spoiled, sweetie,” he murmurs, “you just hang on, hmm?”

Virgil wraps his arms around Janus and holds on for dear life just as fingers wiggle into his axillaries and he freezes.

Then he melts, right into Janus, right into the hands in his wings, the sound physically being ripped out of his chest.

Lips brush the side of his neck like the owner couldn’t stop themselves. The hand on his right twitches violently. From his left comes a long, shuddering breath.

“Oh, Stormcloud—“ Roman, that’s Roman— “you best believe we’re going to spoil you all the time.”

Just like that, everything multiplies. Pats, strokes, kneads, scritches, ruffles, so many so many so many gentle, adoring touches and soft voices in his ears and Virgil flies.

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@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @marshmallow-fluffy @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @such-a-dumbass

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #remus #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sympathetic light sides #tw self harm

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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

Text

I Think I'm OKAY

genre: Angst, hurt comfort

length: two parter

warning(s): Feelings of abandonment, self-depreciating thoughts, suicidal thoughts (briefly), feelings of not being good enough, feelings of being unneeded and unloved

A/N: its just been a day guys. And Ive been think about this all day so I just wrote to get tge thoughs out of my head.

this takes place a few months after the epilogue of Everything Undesired where Azalea is still coming to grips with the fact that she's not her father's heir like she always thought she had been. Mammon and Arella really did try to make time for her but things just never worked out in their favor and it ended up giving their daughter abandonment issues.

She’s lost. Not physically but mentally- Azalea doesn’t know where to go or what her purpose is. Ever since her older brother returned from where ever the hell he’s been her whole life, she’s felt more alone than ever before. From her parents being busier than ever helping Cyrus readjust to life here in the Devildom to her twin brother being curious enough about their new older brother to spend all his time trying to get to know him, no one has time for Azalea any more.

Whenever she tries to reach out to either her parents or her brother she gets blown off. It’s always ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t make it.’ or ‘I’m sorry, I forgot that was today.’ Forgot? How does one just forget about their child? And Azalea is sorry too. She’s sorry for existing. Maybe everyone is just tired of her. Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? After all, she was just her father’s back up plan. A back up plan. Yeah, it sounded as bad as it hurt- to think that’s the only reason he kept her around all this time. Despite how she might try, all she could ever do is fuck up. Why would her parents ever need a child like that?

She feels abandoned, unneeded. All she ever wanted was to make them proud- she pushed herself to maintain the perfect grades just for their praise. Hell, she’d even forced herself to take advanced placement and honors courses just for their approval but they hadn’t even noticed. And it’s not like she hadn’t tried to show them. The last report card she got in her last year of middle school had a note attached to it stating that when she entered RAD, she’d be welcomed into the advanced courses but of course they had been too busy to even look. Both of her parents assumed nothing had changed so they just didn’t need to see something they had seen hundreds of times already.

Why did they stop loving me? The half-demon thinks to herself, Was it all the fights? Was I not good enough for them? I wish I could make them happy the way my brothers do. I wish I was perfect like them, maybe then they wouldn’t have forgotten about me. Maybe I would still belong. What did I do wrong? Azalea can feel the tears dripping down her face. I’m crying? Again? Pathetic. People like me don’t cry.

She hurriedly wipes them away as she looks up at the stars that dot the night sky of the Devildom. She’s pretty high up on a rooftop. She wonders if a fall from this height might kill her or would it just leave her badly injured- the idea’s tempting. She’d come up here to clear her mind and sort out her feelings with how things had changed- how everything she thought she was meant to be had been ripped away from her, but it had just made things worse. She thought she was okay with all this change but after trying for months to find something new to do with the rest of forever, she found out the only thing she was ever any good at was getting into fights. Sure, she’d taken up sports on her uncle Beel’s suggestion but that led to even more pain when time after time, neither of her parents could be bothered show up.

Her phone lights up with a text from her father.

Dad:

Why weren’t ya at dinner today?

Azalea:

Why weren’t you and Mum at my meet today? Ya know like you promised ya would be?

Dad:

‘Zay c’mon don’t be like that. We said we were sorry but something important came up and we couldn’t make it

Azalea:

Sure whatever you say old man

Its what you always say

It's always something more important ain’t it?

Something more important than me.

Dad:

Azalea

Azalea:

Shove it old man. I don’t wanna hear it right now.

She always gets the short end of the stick. For parents that claim they care about her, they sure had a shitty way of showing it. As the family’s resident trouble maker, she’s not good enough for them. Whatever, she doesn’t even need them anyway. She deserves better than a family that doesn’t care. A family she no longer has a place in. And that was fine by her. Now that she’d finally admitted it to herself, she found it would be easier to ignore her entire family and live life depending on only herself.

With a shuddering huff, the girl shuts her D.D.D off and shoves it in her jacket pocket. She leaves the roof top, still in tears headed for the House of Lamentation.

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“Arella, I have to go and find our daughter.” Mammon sighs as he gets his jacket on.

“She’s still upset about the track meet, isn’t she?” The black-haired human frowns “If you’ll give me a moment, I can ask Aurelius if he’ll watch Mahlon and I’ll go with you. This is something we should address together.”

“I don’t think we got the time to waste, Hon. She stopped respondin’ ta my texts and isn’t answerin’ her phone. If I don’t go now, she might so something to herself. I’ll be able to cover more ground quicker if I fly since she could be anywhere- even up high where we wouldn’t be able to see her that easily.”

“Then go on, I’ll talk to her when she gets home.” Arella nods as her husband leaves.

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She enters her room through the garage door entrance. She really didn’t need to considering Azalea was the only one home currently. She knew Aurelius and Zulima would be gone for the rest of the weekend but still she locked her door to prevent any unwanted visitors- mainly her parents as she knew they’d probably come looking for her after the message she’d sent to her father earlier.

She looked over at the stack of unopened akuzon boxes- all gifts sent to her by her parents as ‘apologies’ for various things. Yeah sure, gifts were nice when they were for things like birthdays or Christmas but not when they were used as a way to placate her feelings when her parents missed things like track meets or science fairs or school functions that they promised they would be there for. It felt like a shallow apology so Azalea never opened any of them. They were starting to collect dust now.

Just because greed is her sin doesn’t mean its satisfied by material objects alone. There was more to it than that. Her sin specifically manifests with being greedy for healthy interpersonal relationships- things like money or material objects only did the bare minimum to help keep it under control and satisfied. She wanted her parents’ attention and only that so when they failed to keep their promises, it hurts her deeper than either of them understands- Azalea doesn’t even have the words to describe how it hurts her.

As she plops down on her sectional and flips on the projection of stars and constellations from the human world to calm herself down, she thinks about the way her greed is eating her alive as she turns on some music- a song her friend from the human world showed her called ‘I Think I’m Okay’. It was a song she really related to for some reason. As the song plays on loop, she thinks about how when she was younger- before her youngest brother was born- she was always of healthy weight and body condition. Nowadays with the lack of ability to satisfy her sin, she was just skin and bone. Despite eating constantly, she always feels like she’s starving and she’d be lucky if she weighed in at 90 pounds soaking wet- all of it coming from the weight of her bones and muscle. Her body is just burning through everything too fast and at this point Azalea doesn’t know whether or not she even has the energy to waste to transform into her demon form anymore.

The half-demon hears a faint knock at the door. Maybe if she doesn’t answer then whoever it is will get the hint and go away. As she watches the door open, a scowl appears on her face. Of course her father would pick the lock on her door. She doesn’t know why she’s even surprised right now. He never knows when to leave well enough alone.

“We need to talk...” Mammon says as he sits down on the couch next to her.

“I don’t wanna. Get lost.” the teenager rolls on to her side away from her father.

“Too bad. I’m not leavin’ until we do.”

“Then prepare ta die in here cuz I refuse.” She can’t let him fool her into accepting his apology when she knows full well he doesn’t mean it.

“You really are just like your ma sometimes- stubborn as all get out.” He sighs. “I see ya never opened yer packages. Why?”

She continued to ignore him. How can she get out of this? Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could fool him into thinking she was asleep.

Just get frustrated and leave already. It’s what ya always do when I won’t talk to ya.

She waits an hour, two, three but still he doesn’t leave.

Man is this getting annoying! Why won’t he just give up and go home already?

“Well, since ya won’t talk, I will. Ya know, Mom and I really are sorry we couldn’t be there this afternoon... I know you’re upset about it but we got called to an emergency meeting at the castle and we... kinda... forgot what time it was by time we were done. I know we don’t have a lot of time to spend with ya anymore but things are just so crazy right now... it’s difficult and when ya act like a brat like this it doesn’t make things any easier.” And Mammon realizes too late that he’s said the wrong thing and put his foot in his mouth.

“Right... cuz that’s all I am is a spoiled brat...” Azalea can’t help the way her voice quakes. “I’m a brat because I asked for you and mum to pay attention to me over the boys just this once and you two let me down and now, I’m getting blamed for being as upset as I am. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Azalea, that’s not what I meant and you know that,” Mammon places his hand on her shoulder to turn her over and is shocked when all he feels is bone and muscles that are beginning to atrophy. “What are you doing to yourself? Yer nothin’ but skin an’ bone, Baby.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE WHOSE DOING THIS TO ME!” she roars as she hops up from the couch. “IT’S YOU TWO. YOU’RE THE ONES DOING THIS TO ME!” and then her voice suddenly drops. “But you would notice that if you spent more than five seconds with me. My greed is eating me alive and it’s your fault. I’ve tried for months to get you or Mum to spend time with me and I get forgotten about every time because something ‘more important’ comes up or you also make plans with Aurelius or Cyrus and choose to do that over spending time with me. It’s either that or you both choose Mahlon over me and it’s literally killing me. I get that they all need you guys too and I’m not more important than them but it feels like they’re more important to you than me. And I hate it because...” She lets out a sob as she sinks to her knees, “Because you two are the most important people to me.”

Mammon looks at his daughter with a horrified look on his face. His only daughter feels like she’s not important to them but she was right in a way. Both he and Arella had been choosing her brothers over her- not intentionally but he can see why she would come to that conclusion. This was a very crucial time in her life having had everything she thought she was taken away and she was lost with no clue where to go. He and her mother should have been right by her side, helping her find a new path in life this whole time but instead they got so wrapped up in work and other things that now their daughter was suffering the consequences.

“No, baby that’s not true.” The demon says as he wraps his little girl up in his arms. “You are so important to us too.” He rubs her back as he rocks her back and forth, “We love you so much and I’m so sorry we haven’t made ya feel like that. We’re gonna do better from now on. I promise, okay?”

Azalea is hesitant to nod. How many times had she heard the word promise and then had that promise broken but even now as she’s wrapped up in her father’s arms, she’s starting to feel the overwhelming weight of her sin slowly start to go away. She just rests her head against his chest as her puffy teary blue to gold eyes start to slip closed ever so slowly.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” He says as he runs he hand through her hair and places a kiss to the top of her head.

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Find more on my masterlist

#obey me next gen #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me mammon #mammon angst #om! mammon #obey me oc #arella #azalea

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romanceimp · 4 years ago

Text

Pregnant s/o hcs: Mirio, Bakugo, Todoroki, Midoriya, Iida, Tamaki

SFW, just super fluffy

Mirio:

If you don’t think this man is tearing up when you tell him... uhhh you’d be wrong

He is crying over you and so happy, will kneel and just kiss your tummy

And when you’re in bed that night going to sleep, every few minutes he will nuzzle in closer and whisper, “hey guess what? We’re gonna have a baby”

Anytime he says he loves you now he says it to your tummy too

“I love you Y/n, I love that you are mine and I love that you’re going to be the mother of my child” *bends down* “And I love you too baby”

He will have a really hard time waiting until the second trimester to tell anyone but once he is able, everyone will know, and he’s going to have a party in your honor.

He will treat you like a queen, back rubs and foot rubs...

I feel like when you first tell him you’re pregnant he will come home a few days later with a box... when you open it, it’s a maternity dress, and its actually really pretty, with lace and silk, and nice and stretchy...

“I know you don’t need it now, but I saw it when I was out and thought it would look perfect on you...”

He will compliment you every second of every day, will trace your stretch marks and tell you they make you beautiful because it’s all part of you becoming a mother, it’s a natural tattoo, a reminder of how you’re growing a life inside you

He will want to throw a gender reveal party

And no, it can’t be as simple as balloons popping out of a box, he’s gotta have something extravagant to celebrate like fireworks, monster trucks, or a paid actor dressed as a baby

You’re having his baby! This is a pinnacle moment in his life and he is not about to have some basic ass party

Mirio is definitely the kind of guy who thinks you can’t have sex because it could hurt the baby, you will have to make a very embarrassing call to your doctor about that...

He is looking forward to owning dad sandals (who are we kidding he prolly already does)

Bakugo:

This man will shit himself, make sure he is sitting down

“Bakugo... I’m pregnant”

“Hah?”

“I’m having a baby! You’re gonna be a dad”

He’s really happy and excited, he has no doubt you’ll be an amazing mom but he’s kinda worried about him being a dad...

Am I fit to raise a kid? Will I be a good dad?

He will probably start working more and almost go on over drive... He will start coming home later, picking up earlier shifts... And when you ask him, “Katsuki, are you not happy about the baby?” He will kinda break down and tell you “No of course I’m fucking happy about the baby, I just want the world to be safe for our kid... and I only have 8 months till then and-” He drops to his knees in front of you and he’s tearing up. You’ll get onto your knees too and just hug him, “Katsuki, you can’t fix the world before we have our baby,” you’ll look at him lovingly as he realizes how absurd he was being. “But we can prepare to be the best parents we can be...” “Prepare? We’re already gonna be the best parents.”

Okay, Bakugo hypes up the baby too, like...

“Katsuki, come here! The baby is kicking!” *he puts his hand on your tummy* “Baby’s so strong, just like us,” *grabs you and kisses you* “I knew we made a fucking perfect kid”

He will try kill anyone who oversteps the boundary with the bump (like touching the bump without asking)

“OI EXTRA, you wanna take your fucking hands off my woman and my kid or do I have to do that for you...”

Bakugo would be very unnecessarily competitive in birthing class

Will wake you up in the middle of the night at least once, he’s just laying on his back staring wide eyed at the ceiling... “What if I explode the baby?”

You’ll roll over and look at him annoyed, “you won't explode the baby,”

He will settle again once you give him cuddles

You cannot tell me that he would not be your biggest cheerleader when you’re actually giving birth, “PUSH, FUCKING PUSH DUMB ASS!”

Todoroki:

This man freaks out for a sec... cuz daddy issues. But he has a strong resolve so he will come out of it quickly and decide how to

“Shoto, you aren’t anything like Endeavor, you’re going to be an amazing dad”

He will be extremely happy, but his excitement will be softer

Everyday after you tell him he says you’re glowing

He will want to cook you special things because it’s healthy for the baby, or so his mother told him

Speaking of his mother, she taught him how to knit when he went to visit her in the hospital so you’ll find him knitting little hats and bootie and jackets for the baby

He will nest just as much, if not more than you do

You’ll find him awake at 3AM trying to put together some bullshit ikea thing for the baby with the tiny allen wrench they give you for free. “Shoto, come back to bed... we can do that in the morning” “But the baby needs somewhere to sleep,” “Yes, and I’m not due for another two months”

Shoto is already so soft but I think he would be softer

Like when you fall asleep on the couch, he gets home and just cuddles up to you and asks your bump how it’s day was. He will talk to the bump until you wake up and then he just pepper your face with kisses.

He is the only one of all these men who doesn’t shit himself and die when watching the birthing tape. I think he would be calm and say something like “a woman’s body is made to carry and deliver a child, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Midoriya:

When you tell him, he’s gonna cry

He will want to call his mom right away

Midoriya is the kinda guy to have a box of his things from when he was a kid stored away to give to his child (it’s all All Might merch but, ya know)

He definitely panics and worries if he is going to be a good father but he takes all that anxiety and just turns it into energy to care for you with

He is already signing you up for birthing classes

This man would take you to all your doctors visits, acupuncture appointments, prenatal massages, and even a strange healing session done in the back room of a health good shop (don’t worry, he checked google reviews, 346 people, and 5 stars) (You weren't sure about it at first, but you felt very at peace afterwards, def worth the 5 star review)

He just really wants you to be happy and healthy

It would be understatement to say he treats you like a queen... he treats you like a goddess, and he tells you everyday how grateful he is that you’re his love and giving him a baby. Especially when you feel insecure about how your body is changing

He will want to make the nursery Hero themed... with an All Might wall decal... you’ll eventually opt for something a little less... exuberant like jungle animals or something. But the compromise is the All Might mobil that spins and says “I am here” while playing twinkle twinkle little star.

He will read to the bump, and sing to it because he wants the baby to know his voice

Will make a ‘goodnight’ song with you for the baby to sing to it every night

Tenya:

Tenya is so excited and immediately starts thinking of things he needs to do for you and baby

The day after he will come home with a bag from the store full of prenatal vitamins and herbal teas that are safe to drink

“My love! I have brought you Evening Primrose supplements, it’s supposed to help with your delivery.”

I think he has name ideas picked out already and is very excited to show them to you. They are all related to the Iida family.

He would ask his brother for advice and would be so excited to tell him when it’s time.

Don’t even worry about pregnancy brain. Iida’s got you, he will help you remember everything you need to know and he will be patient with your cloudy thoughts.

Iida is so matter of fact tho, I can see it coming off as insensitive, especially when you’re dealing with mood swings.

“Darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you it’s just that those chips make your stomach hurt and I was only trying to-” “YOU JUST DONT WANT ME TO BE HAPPYYYY!!!!!!” “My darling, I want all the happiness in the world for you, you are the mother of my child, I- please don’t cry”

He really loves you a lot and he will learn to be a little gentler with you during this phase of the pregnancy

Braxton hicks contractions (the little fake contractions you get during the third trimester, closer to the due date) will send him into panic mode.

But he is also so organized that he is R E A D Y

You clutch your stomach and inhale sharply and sit down, he’s already running to get the hospital bag and getting the keys for the car.

(The hospital bag includes, diapers, baby clothes, blankets, stress balls for you to squeeze during contractions and a birth mix which includes mostly Baroque composers but theres a few taylor swift and harry styles songs because he thinks it would be cool if the baby was born to Adore You, because Iida adores you and that baby so much)

Tamaki:

He is terrified

But ultimately knowing that he has a child on the way actually does wonders for his confidence because he wants his child to have a good example and he doesn’t want the child to inherit his crippling shyness

He really is there for you and much like Shoto, shows it in a soft way

Tamaki is so food oriented already that he is especially considerate of your cravings and would probably try them, no matter how weird they are

Pregnancy makes you super hungry but thats okay because Tamaki is a brilliant cook

Tamaki is also very sensitive to the knowledge that it will change after the baby is born and that he has you all to himself for just a little while longer

He is going to take you on special weekend trips, like a sleepy beach town to just relax and eat good food

He will also take you on extra dates because he just wants to soak up your time together as a couple

He is very aware of how much work you’re doing constantly to carry his child and he will want to spoil you

“Y-you’re just so beautiful, a-and you chose me, and now you’re carrying my child...I just... I love you so much and thank you for letting me be yours b-because you make me so happy.”

He will freak out when he sees the birthing tape

“I-I am so sorry, I can’t believe I’ve put you through this... you’re- you- This is all my fault...” *panic panic panic*

But when you’re actually in labour he is very supportive, he will just apologize while you’re screaming in agony and wish there was something else he could do other than bring you ice chips...

#bnha #mha #mha hcs #bnha hcs #tamaki #iida #deku #midoriya #izuku #katsuki #bakugo #todoroki #mirio #shoto #amajiki #togota

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owl-with-a-pen · 4 years ago

Note

What if Nia had gotten so angry at lex after what happened with brainy, she went to go try and kill him? 😳 and brainy had to stop her. We’ve seen the dark side of brainy before but never in Nia really, discluding “reality bytes”

- Oooh, I like this idea a lot! I brought a few more characters into play for this as well, hope you don’t mind!

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Nia stormed past Kara for the third consecutive time, swivelling on her foot just shy of hitting the far wall so that she could continue pacing across Lena’s lab. Her hands were clenched so tightly together that her fingers were beginning to burn, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was ending Lex’s sorry existence once and for all.

“Nia,” Kara cut in, taking a placating step forward, “just think for a second-”

“You can’t stop me, Kara,” Nia snarled. She knew she’d gained something of an audience since Lena and Alex had returned from the recovery room, could feel their eyes tracking her every movement, but just thinking about who they’d been tending to, the state he’d been in when they’d found him in Leviathan’s ship, made the anger inside her chest that much more vitriolic. There was a pressure growing inside her skull, throbbing along to the beat of her heart. She stopped short, jerking her arm in the direction Lena and Alex had come from. “Look what he did to Brainy. Months of hurting him, putting him through god knows what!”

“And you have every reason to be angry,” Kara said gently.

Nia snorted, rolling her eyes. “Great, ‘cuz I was totally asking for your permission.”

“Nia-”

“No.” Nia turned to Kara then, jaw clenched tight. “Y’know what? No. You don’t have a right to tell me I’m wrong here. Lex kills people, Kara, did you think of that, huh? Did you think of who Brainy might have helped Lex kill? What Lex might have made him do?” Nia could feel tears burning in her eyes, could taste a thickness in her throat, but she forced every bit of strength into her voice regardless. “None of us stopped that.”

“None of us knew,” Alex muttered.

“And who’s fault is that?” Nia shot back, whirling on Alex accusingly. “Brainy’s? Or maybe, maybe the truth is, it was ours. I ignored my dreams and we all, we all ignored him!” Nia sucked air through her teeth. She knew she was trembling, but seeing those concerned looks on her friends’ faces did nothing to cool the fire welling inside of her. She swallowed hard, ignoring the iron tang in the back of her mouth, and drew out a slow breath. “But, most importantly,” she said carefully, “it’s Lex’s fault. This is all Lex’s fault.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Lena said. Her expression had been especially still throughout Nia’s tirade, although something about it now looked distinctly uneasy. “But, Brainy was careful. I saw him-” Lena cringed suddenly, looking away.

Nia knew why, just as well as anyone else in the room did. Lena had known Brainy had been working for Lex – for months - and she hadn’t said a word. She’d kept his secret. No, no, she hadn’t kept his secret, she hadn’t cared about it.

“It was only brief,” Lena said quickly, glancing back to her, “but during that time, he promised me that no one would be harmed whilst he aided with Lex’s schemes. He wouldn’t have broken his code, Nia. Not even for Lex; I’m certain.”

“You killed him.”

“What?”

Nia stared at Lena coldly. “You shot him, right? You shot your brother in the heart and you didn’t think about it. Because it was justice.”

“It wasn’t justice-” Kara tried desperately.

“I’m not talking to you!” Nia gritted. She didn’t even spare Kara a passing glance. All of her attention was devoted to Lena. “Let her talk.”

Lena’s eyes were bright, shimmering things. Still, she didn’t look away this time. Instead, her lips twitched into sharp smile. “What do you want me to say?” she asked coldly. “That killing my brother was cathartic, that it closed old wounds that I thought might never heal?” She raised her chin. “No, you want the whole truth. That my actions stopped a threat that would have continued relentlessly unless someone had the nerve to take that shot. To leave his lifeless body to rot with the worms like he deserved.”

Kara made a pained sound in the back of her throat.

Lena glanced at her. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said plainly. “I don’t condone this. But, not because I don’t agree with her.” Lena turned back to Nia, her brow furrowed. “Nia, taking a person’s life is something you can never take back.”

Nia bared her teeth. “And yet, that’s exactly what the Anti Monitor did.” She gestured at Lena frankly, feeling wayward strands of dream energy snap and spark between her fingers. “Absolve you, or whatever.”

“I’d kill my brother again without a moment’s hesitation,” Lena said stiffly, lifting herself to her full height. “But, we can still stop him without resorting to that.” Her expression softened. “Even if we couldn’t, my actions, they aren’t yours. Nia, you don’t have the stomach for this. You shouldn’t.”

Nia clenched her hands again, feeling her energy pool into every digit. Vibrant blue light simmered against her palms. “No offence, Lena, but you don’t know anything about what I’m capable of right now.”

“Nia?”

Nia faltered, the shock of her power dimming as she half turned to meet the new voice behind her back.

Brainy was stood in the lab’s entryway, his shoulder pressed heavily against the wall. If the frailness of his expression was anything to go by, Nia was certain it was the only thing keeping him from keeling over.

His green skin was still far too pale to be healthy, and his blond hair clung to the side of his jaw with cold sweat, but he was awake. He was…

Why was he awake?

Between the two of them, Lena and Alex had been able to help along Brainy’s natural healing process using a cocktail of experimental drugs, the names of which Nia wasn’t even going to try to pronounce. But Brainy’s IV wasn’t present, instead she could see an angry looking bruise already beginning to blossom over the delicate skin on his left hand.

The dream energy dissolved from Nia’s hands in an instant, rocketing back towards her chest so quickly that she nearly choked. She rushed over to him, reaching tentatively for his arm.

This close, she could see the shadows that had sunk into his cheek bones, the red veins that still branched along the whites of his eyes. He held one arm protectively around his chest, clenched between the steady glow of his three life projectors.

“Brainy,” Nia said breathlessly, running her hand carefully along his arm, desperate to offer any kind of support she could. “You shouldn’t be up.”

Brainy clenched his teeth, lowering his head. “I-I overheard…” he managed.

It took her a second, but although his eyes were heavy lidded, Nia realised that Brainy was looking down at her hands, at the vibrant energy she’d summoned only moments ago. Something heavy settled inside her stomach at that look.

“Nia,” Brainy continued softly. “You- you don’t need to do this.”

A pained laugh caught in Nia’s throat. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Brainy smiled tiredly, lifting his head with clearly more energy than he had to expend. Nia ached to do something for him, to take that hurt away, but the anger inside of her no longer burned like fire. Instead, it twisted deep in her gut, churning together with every bit of fear she’d been trying to hold down since the moment they’d gotten Brainy out of Leviathan’s clutches.

“Killing Lex…” Brainy said, meeting Nia’s eyes. “It will not take back what I did. I worked for him of my own volition, he didn’t force me into anything.”

Nia swallowed hard, closing her eyes.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Brainy said earnestly. “But, please, don’t channel that anger into something this destructive. Lena is right. Taking a life is never worth it. There is always a better way.”

Nia’s eyes shot open at that. She blinked quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m not mad at you.”

When Brainy only stared at her, Nia felt the twist in her stomach sour even further. She gritted her teeth, blinking back against the sudden burn in her eyes. “I- I don’t want to be,” she said weakly.

“It’s okay.”

Nia startled at the feel of Brainy’s fingers brush against her free hand. She clenched the one around his arm in response. “It’s not okay,” she gritted. “It wasn’t your fault. I-”

“From what I understand,” Brainy said, “emotions do not always make sense. But that does not make them any less real.”

For a long moment, Nia couldn’t say a word against him. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She was angry, so angry, but she was also terrified and sick and hollow. There was a bitter hole in her heart, one that had only continued to grow in the months since Brainy had broken up with her. He’d barely spoken to her since, had hardly stood to be in the same room as her at all. The closest they’d gotten was work-related interactions and even then, he’d been so distant, like a part of him hadn’t even been there.

And when she’d seen Brainy in Leviathan’s ship, every single piece of bitterness had surged to life in a united front to keep her grounded, to keep her away from every other emotion threatening to tear her apart. It had warped into a violent rage, an acrid burn inside her lungs, fuelling her on this fruitless pursuit to, what? Kill Lex? As though that’d make her feel better, as though any of this would make her feel better?

Nia couldn’t find it in her to say that all out loud. Instead, she sniffed hard, biting her lip. “You left me alone,” she said lowly. “And that killed me.”

“I know,” Brainy said, his voice pained. “It… it killed me too, and I know this isn’t enough, that it won’t take away the hurt, but I am so, so sorry, Nia Nal.” His eyes fluttered suddenly, and he closed them quickly, lowering his head. “I will always be sorry.”

Nia knew this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation. Brainy’s complexion was already losing the little colour he’d gained; his jaw was tight with discomfort, and as a harsh shudder ran up his spine, she watched as he lost the last of his composure, leaning his head against the wall with a weak grimace.

Nia wasn’t sure what she was feeling in that moment, but when Brainy’s legs nearly gave out, she didn’t hesitate. Her arms were wrapped around his back before she even knew that she was moving forward, burying her face securely into the side of his neck. His skin was sticky with cold sweat, but she didn’t care, she only hugged him fiercer, unable to keep a sob from heaving its way out of her throat.

“It will be enough,” she whispered, feeling as Brainy slowly began to relax into her embrace. “It’ll just take some time.”

There was more she wanted to say now. The words practically thundered inside her ears, clawing to be let out. Words like, how much she loved him, how she’d never stopped loving him, but how even that couldn’t take away the resentment she’d stored against herself, against him, for leaving her without a proper explanation, for making her feel like her feelings were unwarranted, unreciprocated.

But her throat was tight, and the only sounds she was able to make were the harsh gasps as her chest hitched and fell outside of her control. She could hear Brainy’s pulse beating away against her cheek, the moisture of his own tears wetting strands of her hair.

All she wanted to do was hold on and never, ever let go.

Brainy didn’t say a word, either. Although, for him, it was for a far more pressing reason. His breathing was already beginning to strain against her shoulder, and when he suddenly dipped dangerously in her arms, Nia strengthened her hold around him, leaning them both against the wall to support their combined weights.

“So, does this mean no one’s murdering anyone anymore?” Alex asked from across the room.

Nia’s chest clenched. She’d totally forgotten that her reunion with Brainy had been met with an audience. She lifted her head from his shoulder, blinking against the brightness of the room before turning towards her friends.

Alex was already on her way over to them, her eyes reviewing every inch of Brainy in both parts medical and familial concern. Kara and Lena hovered awkwardly together, seemingly aware that crowding Brainy right now might not be the best plan.

Nia met Kara’s gaze warily, offering her an apologetic wince. “I…” she began.

“It’s okay,” Kara said softly, her eyes creasing with a smile.

Nia sighed, shaking her head. “Okay,” she said levelly. “Maybe, maybe we don’t have to kill him. But the next cell we put that asshole in, he’s never getting out of.”

Kara’s smile widened into a grin. “Now, that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“First thing’s first,” Alex cut in, rousing Brainy enough that he was able to glance blearily up from Nia’s shoulder. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, narrowing her eyes at the result. “You’re telling me what the hell you did with your IV. Then, you’re going back to bed.”

Brainy nodded weakly, mumbling a quiet apology, although Nia knew Alex wasn’t looking for one. In fact, she was pretty certain she’d heard Alex forgive Brainy at least a dozen times over while he’d still been delirious from the radiation.

Nia chuckled, helping Alex manoeuvre Brainy’s weight back down the hall.

“C’mon Wildcat,” she murmured into his ear. “We’ve got you.”

Maybe they hadn’t had a chance to get everything out in the open just yet, but they would.

Once Brainy was healthy and rested, they’d have all the time in the world.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #brainia #supergirl season 6 #nia nal #brainiac 5 #dreamdox #kara danvers #alex danvers #lena luthor #kara zor el #lol is anyone keeping count of how many different ways i've written brainy getting saved from leviathan yet?#it's .. many #but all the season 6 hype is finally giving me a bit of that hurt/comfort writer's fuel #also. don't ever yank your IV out kids. it's a bad time. dont do it.

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Text

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

#only posting this now bc ive been in a funk the past few days #and i need some soft over romantic fluff #also when i made my masterlist i realized there were 6 posts #and the number 6 is a huge trigger for my ocd i hate it #also this was already written haha so yeah #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #dolan twins fanfic #grayson mj

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littlemissagrafina · 4 years ago

Text

Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety

we're just sunflowers waiting for a sunrise

@comfortember

Read on AO3

The first time he had seen it out of the corner of his eye, Tony had thought that maybe Peter had gotten a tattoo or something, possibly some of the rebellious teenager that Tony knew still lay inside Peter somewhere wanted to make a show.

Tony hadn't noticed entirely at first, had caught glimpses under Peter's sleeves, over his hands or wrists and even near his socks but when Peter would come back for his next lab day, those flashes of colour or shapes would be gone. And so the tattoo idea was dismissed.

Tony started keeping a close eye though, watching discreetly when Peter lifted his arm for something Tony knew would let his sleeves slide or when he would lift his legs and sit criss cross applesauce on his workbench stool. The older man was still baffled at how he sat that way on a stool but put it down to Peter's weird spideryness.

Throughout his watching and observing, Tony finally saw that the drawings, for that's what they had to be, would appear and disappear at random. Some days they would be there and other days not. As would they be large and more bold or more subtle and contained at times.

The only thing that Tony saw in connection with the drawings was Peter's fidgeting and jumpiness. Whenever those were increased more than Peter's usual energetic behaviour, Tony knew he would find drawings too.

Eventually his curiosity and slight worry became too much for the man and he had to ask about it. That time came to be during a movie night that he and Peter were having when the kid stayed for the weekend.

"Hey, Pete?" Tony's voice rang softly from where his chin was propped on top of the head resting on his shoulder.

"Hey, Mr. Stark?" Peter answered back, not moving.

Grasping Peter's hand from where it was tucked into his waist while they cuddled, Tony gently pulled it free and turned it over, careful to watch for Peter tensing or stiffening. "I noticed these appearing a while ago." Tony's thumb subconsciously brushed over the edge of a green shape curling just around the bottom of Peter's wrist and palm. "I was just curious about it."

"It's embarrassing." Peter mumbled into Tony's shirt.

Instead of pushing like his curiosity wanted him to, Tony spoke back quietly. "I'm sure it isn't but if you don't want to talk about it then it's okay, Pete. Please don't make yourself speak about something that you aren't comfortable with talking about."

Peter was silent for a while and Tony could practically feel his mind turning.

"MJ likes to draw." Peter eventually said, his voice quiet and nervous yet open in a way that Tony hadn't heard before.

"She says that it helps her feel calm and happy when something stressful is going on." Peter hesitated slightly here. "I was really… anxious at school a while ago and she told me to try drawing but all the paper I had was for my classes so I couldn't use it and I didn't wanna ask MJ Flr some of her's– uhh sorry. Rambling. So I just started drawing on my hands and stuff and the motion is really calming and soothing. Especially the feeling of the pen or marker. So, yeah." Peter finished a bit awkwardly but Tony didn't mind. He knew that Peter struggled with talking about his anxiety and other tendencies at times. Knew because he still struggled himself at times.

"I'm really glad that this is something that helps you, Bug. It's really awesome that you found a healthy way to cope with it." Tony said to him, his voice oh so gentle and full of pride.

Peter looked up at him, slight confusion swirling in his eyes. "You are? Isn't it lame? Ya know, that drawing like that is what helps?" He didn't think that Tony would be against it obviously, he just hadn't thought the man would have thought it was the best because of the way it implicated that Peter still struggled with his self destructive tendencies.

"Of course I am!" Tony smiled at him. "This is so much better and healthier than so man alternatives and I'm really proud that you found something that works for you so well. And it's not lame or anything, not at all.

Peter smiled bashfully at him and answered by ducking his head back to Tony's shoulder and cuddling into his side again. He subconsciously fidgeted with his sleeves, the cotton sliding up to show more of the colourful green vines curling around his wrist. Noticing Tony's curious but respectful glances, Peter took a deep breath before offering him his arm.

"You can look if you'd like. MJ sometimes does it for me but I did today's one." Peter said and Tony looked at him as if silently asking if he was sure. When Peter didn't move his arm away, the older man carefully tugged the sleeve higher and was met with bright yellows and greens drawn across Peter's arm.

It was a sunflower, and an exquisite one at that. It's leaves and stem curling and twisting behind and over the vibrant yellow petals.

"It's beautiful." Tony said quietly, his words drifting into the comfortable silence that had grown around them.

"Thank you." The words came equally as softly.

---

A couple weeks later, Peter was sitting at his workstation in the lab, trying to do homework. Or rather, fidgeting and twisting at it. He couldn't sit still, but he couldn't move. Couldn't calm the tingling feeling of his anxiety from where it was centred in his chest.

Tony eventually stopped what he was doing and rolled his chair next to Peter's. "You okay, kid? I can feel your anxiousness from my desk." There was concern in his eyes that cracked the part of peter that usually brushed things off, saying he was fine.

"I can't calm down. I dunno… today just hasn't been a great day. I'm sorry."

"Hey, shh. You're okay, it's fine." Tony tried to soothe him. "You do your breathing exercises? The 5 things countdown?" At Peter's nod he spoke again. "And drawing? You do that yet?"

Peter shook his head miserably. "My hands are a bit shaky. I don't like doing it while they're like that and MJ wasn't at school today."

Tony hummed to himself. "Okay. If uh, if you're comfortable with it, I can draw for you? I mean, I won't be as good as MJ or you but I'm passable. I've sketched enough graphics and designs over this to be pretty decent at it." The older man rambled slightly, sounding similar to Peter when he rambled.

The trembling yet still blinding smile he received from the teenager was more than enough to calm Tony's own slight nerves at his sudden offer.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you." Whoops. Too much, Tony. Don't scare the kid away dammit.

Peter pretended to ignore the man's latter words, seeing the slight panic on his face after saying it. It still made Peter's heart feel happy that his dad- mentor cared for him so much.

"I have some markers in my bag, I can go get th-" Peter started saying before Tony interrupted him.

"No need, bud. I have a couple packs lying around somewhere." Yeah, cuz Tony Stark just has packs of Sharpie lying around. Sharpies that you conveniently bought the day after Peter told you about this.

In a few minutes, they had migrated up to the living room, sat together on the couch with Peter slumped against Tony's side and an arm resting on his lap.

Markers next to him, Tony nudging Peter. "What do ya want, kid? Are we feeling something Picasso or Van Gough?" He snickered at his joke.

Peter turned uncharacteristically quiet, and Tony could feel a weight in his next words. "Can you draw a sunflower?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

They fell quiet and Tony felt a subtle shift between them when he drew the first of the yellow petals. And as he drew, the flower bloomed, it's petals and leaves growing, brightening as it came to life.

Placing a cap back on the final marker a while later, Tony tilted his head and carefully studied Peter's face. The teen was marginally calmer than earlier, his tremors gone and his shoulders relaxed.

Suddenly he turned his head and looked Tony in the eyes. "The last person who drew me a sunflower was Uncle Ben." He blurted and Tony was momentarily stunned.

"He used to paint a lot, and his favourite thing to paint was sunflowers. I still remember the first time he started teaching me about art. The way he showed me how to layer the petals. It just brought it back a bit. Thank you for bringing a piece of him back to me." Peter whispered.

"Thank you for letting me." Tony whispered back. His heart bursting at what Peter had just told him, what Peter had trusted him with.

It was funny how things worked that way, how sometimes as small as a sunflower could hold such meaning.

Something changed with Peter and Tony that day, something shifted and brought them closer. A part of Peter that had felt empty ever since the night that he and May lost Ben finally felt as if it was being healed.

Peter's uncle would always have a place in his heart, would always be special to him, but another place in Peter's heart had grown. That place was Tony's.

Tony knew that Ben was, and still is, important to Peter. A part of him that was still so strong. Tony promised that he would help Peter keep that part of him alive, help it to grow and not be forgotten on the days were the flowers were deprived of sun. Benjamin Parker would be a part of Peter as long as time still passed, Tony was adamant of it.

Ben would be found in the curling of a sunflowers petals, in the twisting green of it's leaves and stem, but Tony, well, he was becoming the sun that helped it thrive.

#irondad #spiderson #comfortember 2020 #peter parker #tony stark #ironman #spider-man #irondad fanfic #irondad fanfiction

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ethelphantom · 5 years ago

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Form A Family Of Our Own

Just silliness and fluff and lots of romance and attempts at humour here, and absolutely no angst. You’re welcome! It’s a continuation to the Timari Soulmates Secret Santa I created for @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry, though I’m just skipping things in the chronological order (aka the BartAdrien reveal but we all knew that was going to happen so it’s fine. This is also my Maribat March day 9, Sleepover at the same time. Have fun!

Ao3 | Part 1 | Part 2

This is Maribat -- don’t like; don’t read

_____________________

“Does everyone have everything they need? No one needs to use Mari to use the puppy eyes to get Dick to go to the store?”

Marinette laughed at Tim’s words while the others shook their heads. They had checked they had everything at least thrice already, it wasn’t going to change no matter how many times he wanted them to make sure of it. When Tim still didn’t look convinced, Marinette simply grabbed his wrist and stroked the skin with her thumb to help him calm down, just like he sometimes did for her.

After all, touching your soulmate’s mark would always be a comforting feeling.

Tim’s shoulders slumped a little as he relaxed before he turned to her and smiled gently. Marinette recognised this as a silent thank you, and so she beamed in response.

“Are we ready to ruin everyone else’s day now?” Conner then asked, leaning against the doorframe. He seemed to be trying to look relaxed and not in the least excited for this, but they all knew better, considering he seemed to be itching to go do just that.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the cameras and the scavenger lists. Two teams of three, soulmates in the opposite—” Cassie began, but after she got the puppy face from both Bart and Adrien, she sighed in resignation. “Fine, soulmates in the same team. This is why I’m not supposed to look at either of them while giving orders. Damn it.”

Tim rolled his eyes. All of their friends were idiots (“Like you aren’t as well,” an accusing voice said in his head, and it was a bit concerning how much it sounded like Marinette), but they were also the best — Tim wouldn’t change them for the world.

“I love how the rule is supposed to be ‘no metas in Gotham’, but we’re getting like three metas and two that technically count as metas because Miraculous coming anyway to the home of the one that actually originally set said rule in place,” Adrien mused, remembering what he’d been told at some point after the reveal. And after they had already met Cassie.

Marinette let out an amused laugh. “Oh yeah. Anyway. Could someone please get our bags to the Manor so we can just start with the scavenger hunt?”

“On it!”

There was a flash as all their bags, Conner and Bart disappeared and Cassie took out a clock. She watched it tick for a few seconds before she lifted her gaze again to find her missing friends. “You’re slow. It took you two nearly ten seconds. We’re not even outside the city boundaries, boys.”

“Well, fuck you too, we were carrying five bags each because some of us don’t know how to pack small.”

Cassie simply flipped Conner off before she handed him a scavenger list. “You wanna be with Tim and Mari or Bart and Adrien? I’m fine with either one, just decide fast.”

“Bart. And Adrien, I guess.”

“HEY! ”

Idiots, the lot of them.

It didn’t take them long to sort out into teams and get to the centre of the city. Mari, Tim and Cassie stood on one side, looking down at the people that were all a lot taller than them. Mari cocked her hips and tilted her head, her dark blue sundress following the movement.

“Oh, you’re going down, Chaton.”

“I don’t think so, Buginette — I’m not sacrificing my win even if I’d sacrifice my life for you.”

“Okay, too far too soon, go away.”

Their lists were as followed:

Ask a cashier for the nutritional value of an inedible thing

Act like a stranger were famous and ask for their autograph

+1 if you can get them to take a picture with you

Offer a stranger a penny for their thoughts

Ask a stranger to sign your petition against the euthanasia of rabid puppies

+1 if you can get them to sign your palm

Lie in the grass next to a road and pretend to be making snow angels

Ask the opposite gender if they believe in fate

Ask a stranger where the closest local Christmas festival is

+1 if/when they say they don’t know, ask them how else do they appease the gods

Ask if you can get a discount on a thing that costs less than a dollar

+1 if you pronounce it horribly wrong

+1 if you buy the product with pennies

Ask a stranger if they have seen your cat and proceed to describe a full-grown tiger

Knock on someone’s door and sing them a Christmas song

+1 if the person is a stranger

+1 if you sing Frozen’s Let It Go after you’ve said you’re going to sing a Christmas song

Fake a cheesy proposal in a public place

Ask a cashier if dentists recommend using a toothbrush

Ask a cashier if they have healthy cigarettes

+1 if they say no, you yell “you’re lying” and run away dramatically

Ask a stranger if they can see anyone and point to an empty spot

“You’ve got two hours. The clock starts now,” Tim announced, set an alarm in their group chat so everyone would hear, and then they were all running to get things done.

❋❋❋

“Alright, Bart, go on. You’re the first.”

“You’re not allowed to complain if you wanted to do the same thing, then.”

“Remember, if it involves talking with someone, you can’t be going on your own pace, especially not with a civilian! The camera won’t be able to catch it!”

“Well, your cameras suck!”

With a blink, Bart was standing in front of a door and knocked on it. Adrien, who was right behind Kon, had to contain his laughter somehow because he knew that to Bart whoever lived there was taking ages, even if it was less than a minute — and thus bearable — to him.

When the door was finally opened, Bart immediately started speaking. “Hello, are you interested in hearing Christmas carols?”

“...In the middle of the summer?”

“I know what I said.”

“Uh, no thank you. Have a nice day.”

Bart returned to them pouting. “They didn’t even give me a chance. I’m not that horrible of a singer,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

Adrien took Bart’s hand in his own and pressed a light kiss on his fingers. “Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time, and I doubt it was because of your singing voice. It’s just a weird thing to ask this time of the year. Try again.”

He did. Fortunately for Bart, the next-door neighbour opened their door much faster than the previous one.

“Hiya, are you interested in hearing Christmas carols?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess. Sure, go ahead.”

And then Bart proceeded to sing Let It Go off-key. The person listening to him even applauded his singing and gave him a candy (that Kon forced him to throw away or at least not eat until Tim could do a check up on it in case someone was trying to poison him or something. The Bat paranoia was getting to all of them.) It was fun.

“So, three points for us. That was a great start, Bart!” Adrien said, checking the boxes on the list. “You did film it, right Kon?”

“Obviously. I wouldn’t accidentally not. Hold the camera, Adrien. We’re going to a shop now and annoy the heck out of everyone. Tim is so not going to be happy when he realises some of us might get banned from the shop forever,” he snickered.

“I’m already feeling sorry for the employees.”

“At least we aren’t about to be assholes, really.”

“No, just weird as hell. Maybe they’ll get a story or two to tell others and discuss in the break room when they’re talking about the weirdest and worst customers they’ve had.”

“Do they really do that?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Damn.”

It didn’t take them too long to arrive at the store. Adrien and Bart went in first, pretending to be actually considering buying something when Kon came in and looked around for a moment. Then he walked to an unsuspecting employee. “Excuse me, do you have any of those clairvoyance foes? I was thinking of getting one.”

“I must ask you to repeat what you asked for, sir, I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch it,” the woman working said.

“It’s alright. I meant classical woes.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, I must say I don’t understand what exactly you mean by that.”

“Clarification folds, miss.”

“Oh, do you perhaps mean classification folders?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“...Of course, sir. Yes, we do have those. Do you want me to show you where they are, or would you like me to just point you in the correct direction, sir?”

“If you could show me where they are, that would be great.”

“Of course, sir. This way.”

The woman led him through the shop as Kon glanced behind himself and saw Adrien following them from a safe distance. Bart looked like he was practically vibrating, like he wanted to do something, but all he could do was jerking aborted movements. Actually, scratch that, he probably was vibrating. Of course.

“Here they are. Is there anything else I could help you with?”

“Is it possible to get a discount on these?”

“I— I’m afraid not, sir, but they’re only a dollar so…”

“That’s fine. Thank you for your help anyway.”

“It was no problem.”

Once the woman was gone, Adrien and Bart walked to him. “Oh my kwami, I pity her so much. I’m genuinely sorry she had to deal with you and I’m kind of considering going to find her and give her a tip for dealing with you,” Adrien snorted after he cut off the filming. “I don’t even care that’s not a custom in stores, I still want to do it.”

Bart laughed. “I’m gonna go do just that if you give me some money.”

Adrien did. He gave him twenty dollars. He could almost feel Wayzz shaking his head at the two of them even despite the fact Wayzz was with Marinette at the very moment.

“I hope you’re ready to keep recording cuz I ain’t done yet,” Kon said, earning an eye roll from Adrien.

“Sure. Let’s do this.”

Adrien kept his distance while they were walking to the checkout, Bart appearing next to him at some point. Adrien bumped his shoulder against Bart’s to express he knew he was there, the act soon returned. A smile made its way to his lips. They only started paying attention to what Kon was doing when they heard him speaking to the cashier.

“Excuse me, mister, but what is the nutritional value of this thing?”

“I’m sorry to inform you, but folders aren’t edible.”

“I am aware. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have nutritional value.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what it is, sir. I’d only be able to find out if they had given me a list, but unfortunately, they did not.”

“Oh, alright. Well, I’d like to purchase it anyway.”

“That makes one dollar.”

“Sure, wait a second.”

Kon pulled out his wallet and went through his money, counting it silently and quickly. Then he offered the cashier a handful of coins — all of them pennies. The disbelieving face on the cashier’s face, as he started counting, was miserable and a little sad to see, but no helping it now. Thankfully the product only cost a dollar, it didn’t take him that long to do it.

After paying, he went back to the end of the line, waited it, and asked the same person if they had healthy cigarettes. The cashier looked rather resigned at that point but stayed polite and told him that no, they didn’t have those because those didn’t really exist, and “are you sure you’re old enough in the first place?”

Kon gasped loudly. “You’re lying!” he yelled and ran dramatically out. The other customers didn’t even pay attention to him as if it was just another day. It probably was. This was Gotham, after all. Bart and Adrien made their way out behind him, slipping a twenty-dollar bill to the man behind the checkout and quickly apologised he had to deal with that, “please accept this.”

Then they were out and laughing, even if still feeling bad for doing it.

“Mari would kill me if she had to see that, honestly. She used to do this at their bakery and god, the stories she sometimes tells me,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “I hope that paying for them for suffering because of us was good enough. I don’t really know what else I could have done to compensate for having to deal with us.”

“No one does!” Bart told him before he snatched the camera from him. “Go on, your turn, Sunflower!”

The nickname was kind of fitting — blond hair and being a bit taller than Bart tended to do that. Adrien blushed a little at the pet name and then forced himself to get his thoughts back on the trail.

He buried his head in his hands before taking a look at the list. Then he grinned, getting a wonderful idea. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hurt anyone by doing it. If he was lucky (for once, considering he was the Bad Luck incarnated), he would end up finding someone who would ake it more as a joke.

Stopping someone who didn’t look like she was in any hurry, Adrien asked, “Excuse me, but do you believe in fate?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why?” she responded. Adrien visibly slumped in relief.

“Oh thank god.”

“...What is it.”

“My soulmate and I were just arguing about it a second ago and I needed a new opinion. Now I can tell him he’s very very wrong, and that we clearly belong together ”

The girl looked at him like he was a ghost. For a second, Adrien was afraid he’d hurt her feelings and was ready to apologise, but then she burst out laughing and doubled over.

“Oh my god. That’s wonderful and so hilarious! God, I was afraid you were about to flirt with me, dude, but that’s so much better. I wish you and your soulmate the best of luck. Buy him his favourite food, maybe he’ll then accept that you’re meant to be,” she said smiling and winked. Then she punched him lightly in the arm. “Go on, dude, your perfect happy ending is waiting for you!”

Adrien could feel a wide smile spread on his face. “Thanks, I will! You go get your happy ending as well, whether you’ll find it in a passion, person or a pet!” They exchanged numbers and names (her name was Zoanne, and Adrien had a feeling they’d become good friends over time), both excited about it, and parted in good spirits. Adrien waved to her as he walked to where Bart was staring at them.

Once he actually paid attention to how both Conner and Bart looked like (staring at him, Conner not even focusing on the camera), he tilted his head and arched his eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Duuuudde.”

“What?”

“Only you. Only you could make a friend while doing a scavenger hunt task and basically also pranking her. Wow.”

Adrien just shrugged. He wondered how the girls and Tim were doing.

❋❋❋

Tim was the only one of them who still had any sense of shame or embarrassment at this point (and they’d already completed most of the points on the list between the two young women), but he was determined to win and actually do something for the win as well so he wouldn’t be able to care. Soon enough, he was walking up to a stranger as Marinette was filming.

“Excuse me, miss, but have you seen my cat? She’s a sweetheart and I lost her when I was out with my friends.”

“Oh, you have a cat? I’m sorry, I don’t think so, but what does she look like? I could try to pay attention in hopes to see her later.”

“She’s a beautiful orange with white in her face, chest, belly and the underside of her tail, she’s about this tall,” he put his hand at about his waist, “and she’s got a lot of black stripes. Also, she’s a bit loud when she decides she wants to talk, but it’s not that bad.”

The woman backed off slowly as he was talking with a concerned look on her face. She was gone before Tim finished talking.

Marinette shook her head fondly and placed the camera in Tim’s hands as he returned. “Have fun trying not to laugh behind the camera!”

She wondered around like she was looking for something worriedly. When someone came to ask her what was wrong, she internally congratulated herself.

“Well, Monsieur, I was looking for the nearest local Christmas festival. Do you know where one might be?” she asked, looking innocently at him. “I really do need to find one, preferably close.”

“In July? Yeah, I don’t think I know where one would be at this time of the year.”

Marinette adopted a horrified expression on her face. “But— But— How do you appease the gods you might have angered, then?”

“The what?”

“The gods, obviously.”

“What gods?”

“Those,” she said and pointed behind the man. When the man turned around, he was greeted by the violet eyes of the fox god of mischief and trickery as well as the orange eyes of the pink tiger goddess of stealth and the brown eyes of the small but way too enthusiastic monkey god of jubilation. On any other occasion, she wouldn’t let civilians see kwamii, but this was an exception and she had Wayzz hide them from the view of every other person that didn’t know of their existence already, so it was fine. The most likely case was, the man would forget about meeting the kwamii or think of it as a hallucination of sorts later on.

When the man looked back to where Marinette had been, she was already gone. It was too much fun to mess with people a little bit. She knew the kwamii would be following her and perfectly capable of keeping themselves hidden when she told them so, so she didn’t worry about them.

Cassie snickered as Tim signed she was done filming. “That was amazing. I’ll go next!”

She walked to another stranger, Tim and Mari following her from a distance. Tim already had his camera recording. “Oh my god!” she gasped when she noticed a young person standing alone at the corner of a clothing shop. “It’s you! God, I never thought I’d meet you in real life!” When she ran to them and jumped a little as though she was excited, she also let out a squeal.

The person looked at her weirdly. “Excuse me? Have we met?”

“No, but now we have and it’s the most amazing thing! I’m such a huge fan. Can I please have your autograph? I want to show all my friends I met you!”

“Uhh…. Sure.”

Cassie handed them a piece of paper and a pen (which, where did she even get them?) and watched in anticipation as they wrote their name on it. Then she pulled out her phone. “Could I take a selfie with you? Please? I’m not going to put it all over the social media if you want to keep your whereabouts private, but I just want a picture.”

The person seemed to be already done with her, and probably guessed that this was the quickest way to get rid of her. They agreed and crouched a little to fit in the same picture easily. Cassie did a little peace sign, acting her role of an enthusiastic fan with all her heart. It took Tim and Mari their everything to keep from laughing.

When Cassie returned to them, flipping her hair, Tim handed her the camera. “Film this as closely as you can,” he said in passing and walked where there were as many people as possible, to the park nearby, Marinette and Cassie following in his wake. When Marinette was close enough, he made his way to her and swiped strands of hair behind her ear.

“Marinette, my dear, I love you more than anything in this world, you know that, right?” At Marinette’s slow but still a little confused nod, he continued. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I’ve decided I would like to take the next big step in our relationship,” he said loud enough for the people nearby to hear.

“Every time I look in your eyes, I get a peaceful feeling. When I am around you, everything seems perfect. I promise that I will always be there for you in whatever you do and support you in ups and downs as long as I live. You give my life meaning and make it worth living. You’re the shoulder I can always trust to be there for me to lean on when I need it, you’re the one who I can always count on to be by my side. You were made for me, and I was made for you, and no matter what our souls are made of, mine and yours are the same.” Tim took a deep breath and looked at Marinette, whose eyes seemed to be glimmering as she bit her lip.

“In case you ever foolishly forget this one truth, let me declare it out loud for you, in front of all these people who are here to witness this: I am always thinking about you. I want to form a family of our own with you. Your words are written on my skin for the world to see who I belong to, a reminder for you should you ever doubt it. Feel free to doubt this world — doubt the stars are fire; Doubt that the Sun does move; doubt the truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. I certainly have never had even a moment’s doubt of that. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life. You’re the answer to all those lonely prayers at night when I wished for someone to be there one day, and every day I thank God or Fate or whoever gave me you that you’re here now.”

By then Marinette was openly crying and she had covered her mouth with her hands, but Tim kept on going. He was not done, and he was determined to make this proposal the cheesiest he possibly could. As the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, people were bound to notice, and he only had one shot at it. “And I will love you against all odds in this world. Let me defy fate, let me defy stars. Let me defy everyone and anyone who may deny love, who may deny our love. Above all, you are my love, you are my stars, you’re my galaxy.” Tim lowered himself on the ground, now on one knee in front of his soulmate, his Marinette. He produced a ring box from his pocket and held it open for her. “So, as my best friend and the love of my life, will you be my one and only or my everything?”

“Are you— Is this for real?” Marinette whispered, tears glimmering on her eyelashes and staining her cheeks. Tim nodded, biting his lip. He knew it was one of the things on the scavenger list, so he hoped Marinette wouldn’t take this as only one of them.

Marinette swallowed and smiled brightly. “Yes!” she breathed out and fell on her knees next to Tim, not really caring if the action had her scrape her knees. Tim placed the ruby ring with a diamond halo on her ring finger and pressed a kiss on her fingers before Marinette lost her patience, cupped his face and kissed him on the lips.

When they broke apart, they could hear the cheering of the crowd. Tim looked to the side to Cassie who gave him a thumbs-up, the camera still in hand, probably recording as well. Bart, Conner, Adrien and the entire family, as well as Jagged and Penny, were all standing behind them. Thank god he’d half-planned this and told them to get themselves over there at a specific time and to stay behind Cassie so they wouldn’t bother or distract him.

Adrien just ran to Marinette once they locked eyes and hugged her, congratulating her for the engagement. Bart slapped Tim’s back and did the same. When Tim got nothing from Conner, he raised his eyebrow because there was no way Conner stayed quiet about this without a very good reason.

“What is it.”

“Well. Technically, this can’t be counted as a point since you didn’t fake a proposal.”

“Fuck off.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Go away you overgrown toddler with too many leather jackets.”

“That’s such a creative insult you’ve got there, Timmy. Sounds like you had it memorised, even. How long have you been waiting for a time to use it?”

Tim just stuck out his tongue at Kon as Marinette and Cassie laughed at them.

Kwami, did Mari love her friends (and fiancé — she was never getting over being able to call him that.)

❋❋❋

“Alright. We gotta do something that is like, something people do at actual sleepovers,” Cassie announced as she flopped down on the mattress they had dragged into the biggest guestroom in the Manor they could find. The mattresses were all in a circle around their snacks so that it would be easy for them to talk and eat. Two of the mattresses were also bigger so Marinette could share with Tim and Bart could share his with Adrien. “I don’t know, like, trade secrets or gossip or… Oh, I know! Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

The sly smirk on Cassie’s face did little to assure Mari or Tim this was a safe idea, but they were going to do it anyway, weren’t they.

“You did bring the shot glasses, didn’t you, Kon? Get them out, like, now. We gotta do this properly! And Adrien, you got the tequila, right? Please tell me it’s not flavoured.”

Adrien took out the bottles from his bag. “They are flavoured. Coconut, mango and chipotle.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Marinette saw it as a good moment to butt in. “Yeah, that works. Tim, choose the flavour.” She looked at her beloved next to her, poking his side when he didn’t answer.

“Huh? Oh. Uh, mango?”

“Alright, we’re going with that then. Adrien, can you please open the bottle?”

He did, and the game began. To the surprise of exactly no one, Cassie was the one to start. “Never have I ever ‘cleaned up’ by piling everything into a closet or pushing everything under my bed.”

She smiled as Tim, Bart and Marinette reached for the bottle with various states of grumbling, filling their glasses and downing them.

This evening was definitely going to end with them drunk. The only reason some of them wouldn’t be was if they were simply damn tolerant, which was basically what all of them except for Tim were — Adrien and Marinette because of the long use of the miraculous, Cassie because she was half goddess and technically an Amazon, Bart simply because of his fast digestion (damned Speedster), and well. Kon was Kon.

This was not going to end well, now was it.

“Alright, I’ll go next. Never have I ever lied to a police officer,” Adrien said. Marinette looked at him like he was crazy before it turned sour as she reached out for the bottle once again at the same time as the rest of them did. “Wait, how have you all lied to a police officer?”

“Well, Kitty, it might be because half of the police officers were corrupt in Paris during Papillon's time of reign, and it was simply safer. That's one thing. A better question would be, how have you never lied to a police officer?”

Tim rested his head on Marinette’s shoulder as he explained his own reasoning. “Then there's the fact my brother happens to be a police officer. I've totally lied to him multiple times. Same with Commissioner Gordon at least once or twice.”

The rest of them nodded along. “Yup, lied to Nightwing, which means, lied to Police Officer Grayson. No regrets, 5/5, would recommend, he's too much of a mother hen sometimes,” Cassie stated.

It was probably good she stated it then and not a minute later, because only a moment after that, the door flew open and Jason marched in. Marinette and Tim buried their heads in their hands or the mattress, Adrien just shook his head, and the three others were staring at Jason like this was somehow that much of a surprise. A minute later, a mattress was pushed inside the room as well.

“Hey kids!” he yelled as he settled in and had Cassie, and Bart and Adrien move themselves away from one another so he could push his mattress between them.

“Jason, what are you doing here.”

The deadpan question shot at him was said in a tone with such an irritated undertone that Jason mock-winced.

“Well. Our dick of a brother—” Jason motioned at himself and Tim, “—sent me here to be a babysitter for a bunch of kids over the fragile age of 21.”

“Dick! ”

Dick looked inside from the door and immediately got thrown pillows at. He scrunched up his nose and looked at them with disappointment. That got him six disappointed eyes staring at him from around the room. “Well, you can’t actually blame me! There are two couples sleeping in the same room and oh my god also on the same mattresses and I am worried and concerned and this is my safety measure to make sure we get no babies after this night.”

“You do know Tim and I are getting married, right?”

“Precisely, you just made my point.”

“Besides, we wouldn’t do it in the same room with these guys anyway, and also Bart and Adrien can’t get children because neither has a womb?”

“Still.”

Marinette sighed. “Fine. As long as you stay away for the rest of the night. At least Jace could be fun. You, instead, are not fun when you’re trying to mother hen us at the same time.”

“Rude much.”

“Now go or I’ll throw you with Jace.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and I could, in the transformed form anyway. I’ve thrown Chaton across the city, don’t test me.”

Dick huffed and closed the door. Jason laughed at Marinette’s words and patted her head after reaching towards her a little bit, over all their snacks and food.

“So, whatcha doin’? Drinking games?”

“Yeah. Never have I ever. You in?”

“Am I in? Oh, definitely. You couldn’t stop me even if you tried.”

“Sounds like trouble. I’m already regretting letting him in.”

A chorus of “same” echoed around the room.

“Alright, so…” Kon looked around the room before his eyes landed on Tim and a smirk tugged on his lips. “Never have I ever sneaked out of my house in the middle of the night alone.”

Tim frowned and drank a new shot. Marinette sighed, elbowed Adrien and took the bottle from Tim’s hands.

“Okay, Pixie, explain. You, sneakin’ out of the house, let alone in the middle of the night? Impossible.”

“Nuh-uh. Need I remind you, Ladybug. Papillon hardly cared about our sleeping schedule. Had to sneak out at night multiple times to save the city. Same with Adrien.”

Adrien nodded, agreeing with her. “‘S not like we had a choice in the matter, it was our sleep or the safety and lives of over two million people. Ga-bitch didn’t leave us much of a choice.”

It was Tim’s turn to interrupt. “And how have you never sneaked out of the house in the middle of the night? You, Mr. ‘I do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want, fuck Batman’?”

“Well, with B it was easier to sneak away when it was the middle of the day and he thought I was somewhere else, and in the Alley, it was safer to either stay inside or stay outside through the night, not both. Also, no house to sneak out of at one point.”

“Oof.”

“Never have I ever died,” Tim shot with a pointed look at his brother and his best friends. Yeah, he was still a little bitter even if it technically wasn’t their fault, so sue him.

“Low blow, dude,” Adrien said as he downed the glass. Marinette shuffled next to him and the next thing he saw was her stealing Adrien’s newly filled shot glass.

He was, least to say, shocked when he saw everyone take a shot, his fiancée included.

“Akumas. To be exact, Desperada and Time Breaker, at the very least. Probably some others too. He’s never been that good at not dying, and there was one time when he had to witness me die like, 25 thousand times.”

“25,913 times, Buginette.”

“Sorry, 25,913 times. He saw me die that many times, and I remember exactly none of them. He probably remembers most.”

“Holy shit.”

After everyone had had time to think over it and let the realisation that two out of their three sunshines had died god knows how many times and had had to witness one another die as many times sink in, Jason simply grabbed the chipotle vodka and took a few gulps. “I need more alcohol to deal with this” had been his explanation, and when he’d been told he’d die if he drank too much, no one realised the mistake until it was too late, because…

“Been there, done that.”

Cue them groaning and hiding their faces in their pillows all the while Jason just laughed.

“Okay, back to the game. Never have I ever been related to a supervillain.”

“Fuck you too Jason.”

Both Conner and Adrien took a shot as they glared at Jason, and Kon gave him the finger.

The rest of the game went in the same style. Everyone was flabbergasted at how many times both Adrien and Marinette had to drink. Those happened with, for example, Bart’s question of drinking before the age of 21 (“We grew up in France, he was a rich ass bitch, what else did you expect? Besides, legal drinking age is 18 there.”), Jay’s of whether someone had peeked at another person in the shower (“Well, I suppose it could be called that. Chaton pretended to be in the shower every time I came over during an Akuma that came for his or Gabritch’s head, nevermind the fact he always had clothes on. It’s not like I knew.”), Cassie’s “never have I ever fantasized about a real person” (“I mean, I was a teenager with a huge crush on Ladybug…” “Gross, Chaton, gross.” “Don’t try and deny having a crush on me as well.” “Well, fuck you too.” “I think I’ll leave that for your fiancé.” “Oh my god, Adrien.”) It just went on and on.

After a few hours of different things, such as hide and seek in the dark (it went as expected — Adrien won. Damn that night vision of his even in civilian form), truth and dare (they were all superheroes or vigilantes, there was hardly anything they wouldn’t say or do in relatively safe company, especially when they were at least tipsy), strip poker (this one Adrien lost because he couldn’t stop making puns, Bart came second last because he couldn’t keep a straight face (“Well, it’s not like anything else about me is straight either.”), which, to everyone’s surprise, Marinette won (“Whaatt? I had to get really creative and good at bluffing during school and Papillon, why is this so shocking to you all?”). They stopped when the next thing to go would’ve been someone’s underwear), and they were definitely glad to finally just lie down and rest.

Then Adrien’s phone went off. He surged out from under the covers and unlocked his phone. In the darkness of the room, the phone lit up his face rather well. He was smiling. Bart pushed the covers aside and sat up next to Adrien.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Texting to a friend.”

“Oh, is that your new friend? The one you met while scavenging?” Bart sounded excited and got closer to be able to see the messages. Adrien just placed his phone so that Bart could see them more easily.

“Yeah, it is.”

Marinette sat up as well. Smiling, she asked, “Oh, you made a friend while scavenging? That’s so wonderful, though only you, Kitty. Only you could manage to do that.”

“Kon said the same thing right after it.”

“Of course he did. What’s her name?”

“Zoanne.”

Beside Marinette, Tim went still and paled. He swallowed audibly and forced himself to look at Adrien. “Do you know her surname?”

“Yeah, it’s Wilkins. Why?”

Tim buried his face in Marinette’s knees and thighs, whining. “Oh god. Kill me now, please. Maybe borrow the Cat Miraculous to do it. Or Jason’s guns.”

“Why? What happened?”

“She’s my ex and I might’ve left her in rather an unfortunate situation.”

Adrien stared at him. Then frowned. Then honest to god scowled. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Oh my god, Adrien swore.”

“She’s dating again, by the way. Some girl named Ariana.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“Fuck.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess. You also dated Ariana.”

“Yeah.”

An amused sigh fell of Marinette’s lips as she stroked Tim’s hair. “You’re hopeless.”

Tim scrunched up his nose. “No, I’m not.”

Marinette gave him a look.

“Okay, yeah, I am. Please kill me now. I can’t have you two be friends with nearly all my exes.”

“What do you mean nearly all your exes?”

“Cassie and Steph, and considering Adrien is friends with Zoanne, you’ll probably be soon too, and I’m sure you’re going to call Ariana your friend soon enough as well.”

“You’re forgetting I’m also friends with Tam.”

“Fuck.”

Jason just snorted. “Fuck, Babybird, you’ve got a ton of exes, and your fiancée and her best friend are friends with like, all of them. Damn.”

“Shut up, Jay.”

The next morning, both Tim and Jason were hungover, and Adrien and Marinette could definitely feel themselves having drunk the night before.

They thanked the kwamii they didn’t need to suffer as many or horrible consequences for the drinking and bought and or baked a ton of food for Plagg and Tikki.

___________

@the-navistar-carol @caffeinetheory @jardimazul @captainartsypants @marinettepotterandplagg @kris-pines04 @thethirdwheelfriend @daminett4life @abrx2002 @persephonebutkore @rebecarojas07 @corabeth11 @freshbark @maribat-march2020 @catsandfanfic @fertileleaf @eat0crow @cutechip

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years ago

Text

My Way

Chapter Six

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, murder, mentions of violence and abuse

Harry opened the sliding van door gently, Clara was still there. He sighed, hopping up into the van and leaning over top of the unconcious girl. He studied her features, the gauntness in her cheeks, the dark shadows beneath her eyes, the cuts and fading bruises on her. Bruises and burn marks covered her body. His eyes scanned down her arms, there were old track marks, he didn’t want to think what that sick fuck had been injecting her with. He gently picked up her hand, turning it over in his, only to discover in horror, that she had bitten her nails down to nubs, all bleeding and scabbed over. She’d been put through the ringer. Guilt washed over him. Some of this was his fault. If he hadn’t have taken her with him, none of the last six months would have happened. At least, that was how he felt. And no one could convince him otherwise. This innocent girl lie broken and tainted because he was a selfish asshole.

Carefully, as though she would break at any moment, he scooped her up into his arms and out of the van. The neighborhood was quiet, but Harry’s eyes still darted around the area, making sure no one watched him carry the girl into his home.

The pier stretched off into a beautiful sea. A woman in a red dress walks a baby carriage. Clara feels strong and healthy, she recognizes Leah and calls after her, jogging to catch up. But Leah doesn't hear her and she keeps walking. Clara runs after her. When she gets close, she stops. Leah turns around.She reaches to hug her. But, as she does everything suddenly turns black. Clara is scared, she cries out for Leah. Leah doesn’t come. She steps backwards off the edge of a cliff and rushes headfirst into a concrete sidewalk.

Clara sat up abruptly, a sense of disorientation overcoming her. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. She was in a living room, on a couch, a light blue blanket covering her lower body. The sun was shining brightly through the windows and on the sil, she could see framed pictures and knick knacks scattered about. She swung her feet off the couch, planting them firmly on the hardwood floor, but when she tried to stand she wobbled, and fell right back onto the couch. She felt dizzy.

“Take it easy. You’ve been asleep for three days,” Clara’s head snapped up. Harry Styles stood in the doorway of the living room, leaning against it’s frame. A small smirk on his lips. Clara’s eyes widened in surprise.

“H...Harry?” he walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the couch. “You...You’re real.” he nodded. “W-what happened?” She moved back away from him wearily. “Where’s Alex?”

“You don’t have to worry about him. You’re safe.” she scoffed. Harry could feel the air changing around her, becoming tense, she glared at him.

“I told you to leave me.” tears fill her eyes, almost blinding her as they begin to flow, “ Why didn’t you leave me?”

“Because I couldn’t just leave you behind…..You’re a victim.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are-”

“No I’m not!” Clara startled him. Her face was full of pain and anger, She began to sob, “I’m not a princess. I’m not innocent. I’m not good. I’m just as bad as Alex. I’m the reason he killed Leah! The reason he kidnapped that other girl! There’s so much blood…..so much blood on my hands.” as she said this she held her hands out in front of her, they looked clean but she knew, she knew she was dirty. “You told me once that you kill bad people….so kill me. I deserve it.” Sobs racked through her body, her face contorted as she cried out. Harry just sat there, unsure of what to say, or what to do. She just looked so….defeated.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered after her sobs had started to quiet.

“What?” she asked. He looked up at her, her eyes were light brown, and he never noticed the little specks of green in them before.

“I never should have taken you from that gas station….I didn’t need to. I could have gotten out on my own. But I saw an opportunity. A get out of jail free card and I took it. I lied to you, I didn’t have to bring you to my family, I just said that so you wouldn’t try to run. And I’m sorry. I did this to you. I should have let you go home.” the room went quiet except for her sobs as he finished.

“Is that the only reason you made me come this far with you?” Clara knew there was something else. She could tell in his demeanor, and the way he kept avoiding looking at her now.

“You remind me of a girl I used to love. Maybe that’s the other reason why I took you. When I saw you standing at that slushie machine, all quiet and shy...You took me back to the happiest time of my life. Gina was a good girl, like you, she knew about my life. She knew about my upbringing and my job. Why I do what I do. And she didn’t care. She embraced me and we made all these plans….I was gonna semi retire, settle down, have a family….” he trailed off, his eyes glazed over as he was brought back to those moments, back to his former lover, “A guy I killed had friends. And they wanted payback. They started stalking me and they found her….I’ll spare you the details. But I’ve been hell bent on finding the son of a bitch who ordered her death. I want to kill him with my bare hands. I will. I dove in head first, to my job. I’ve killed more people since her death than I ever did before, and I track every lead I get on the men that killed her….When I tried to rob that gas station, I had just got done tailing and killing the last man that physically killed her. It was the three year anniversary of her death, and I just wanted to get home. So I could be alone...Then I saw you,” she watched his lips twitch, trying to stop himself from smiling. “I just felt drawn to you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Clara.”

“I appreciate….” Clara swallowed, trying to find the right words to say. “I appreciate that you thought you were saving me. Really, I do. But where do I go from here? If you don’t let me go back I have nothing….My parents have forgotten me. I can’t go back to school….Where do I go from here?” she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “My life wasn’t easy with Alex. But it’s familiar, and I need that cuz…..cuz I don’t have anything else. So….Please take us back home.” Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His jaw twitched.

“I can’t.” he left it at that, standing up he left Clara on the couch, floundering with her thoughts and trying to catch herself.

“Hey.” He looked over his shoulder as he left the living room, to see Raven walking towards him, her hands in her pockets. Her bruises were healing, her wrists bandaged. He was glad she was okay. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if something had happened to her. “She alright?” Harry shrugged.

“Something wrong? You okay?” she nodded.

“I’m fine.” She stood toe to toe with her brother, looking up into his green eyes. Harry bit his lip, looking away from Raven. “She’s gonna be okay H.”

“Is she? She scared the shit out of me Raven... me .” she placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“She was in that situation for a long time….You didn’t see what he did to her….but she’s safe now. And we’ll send her home. Just like you should have months ago.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“She doesn’t want to go home Raven. She doesn’t trust me. And that’s my fault. I told her not to. She doesn’t want anything but to go back to that place….To that room. I can’t let her do that.” Raven smirked.

“I didn’t know you had such a soft heart Hazza.” he rolled his eyes.

“Stop it Raven. This is serious.”

“I am serious. I don’t think you’re as dark as you want people to believe you are.”

“I kill people for a living Raven. That’s pretty dark.” she shrugged and stepped around him. She walked towards the living room, pausing before she entered.

“By the way Harry…..She told me all about the gas station. And when I asked her who took her, she flat out refused to tell me. Not even when I pushed her to….Just thought you should know that. ” Harry’s lips parted slightly,he wanted to say something else to her, but she was already making her way towards Clara.

“Hey,” Clara looked up to see Raven, the girl who had caused all this. If she hadn’t been nosy, if she hadn’t found Clara, her world wouldn’t be upside down. She’d be home if it wasn’t for this girl. Raven stood at the edge of the couch. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine...I’m fine,” Raven sat down on the arm of the couch. She could sense the inner turmoil Clara was in, and wanted nothing more than to help this girl who had saved her life. “Why….” Raven almost didn’t hear Clara’s question, the girl’s eyes were glazed, as though she were far away, thinking of other things.

“Why what?”

“Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?” Raven’s expression became confused. Clara was getting frustrated, why was no one understanding her. “If you hadn’t wandered the house...If you hadn’t opened the door to my room….” Clara trailed off, she still couldn’t think straight.

“Because you scared me the first time I saw you.” Clara didn’t look at Raven, she didn’t make any sign of acknowledgment, whatsoever. “You looked….Less than human.” That’s what she had likened Clara’s expression to, the first time they met. Like she was a mannequin or something, shaped like a human, but hollow on the inside. “Everything’s going to be okay now though, Clara. I promise.” Raven moved down closer to Clara and pulled her into a tight hug. It took a moment, but ever so slowly, Clara hugged her back. Raven just held her, she was grateful to Clara for keeping her alive, and she knew Clara probably hadn’t had just a good solid hug in a long time. Clara, however, felt awkward. She didn’t know what else to do but wrap her own arms around Raven and rest her chin on the other girl’s shoulder.

“You have to take me back.” she cleared her throat, it felt raw,probably from crying so hard. Raven shook her head.

“Clara. You don’t have to go back. You’re okay-”

“No.” she pulled away from the other girl and brought her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. Raven could sense her shutting down. “No. Please. He’ll be mad at me if I-”

“Clara.” Raven’s voice was firm. She looked into the other girl’s eyes. She didn’t know why Raven was looking at her like that. Looking at her with….pity. “Alex’s locked up in a room on the other side of this house. He can’t hurt you. He can’t even move.” Harry had made sure of that. But Raven didn’t say this. “Don’t you get it? It’s over. You never have to worry about him again.” Raven sat patiently, allowing Clara to process her words. She hoped that by telling Clara this, the girl would be relieved, but instead, Clara only felt even more lost. Alex was all she knew anymore. What was she now? Where would she go? “And by the way Clara. You’re in Dallas, Texas.” Raven smiled at the surprised look on Clara’s face. “Now you know where you are.”

Raven sat with Clara for a long time, she tried to calm her, to dispel her fears, but nothing seemed to shake her. Clara begged to return to Alex. To return to the apartment. “You don’t understand Raven...I’m not the person I used to be. I can’t just go back to Ohio and pretend like everything is fine and nothing happened. I wouldn’t even know where to begin picking up the pieces of what used to be my life.” Raven ran her hand over Clara’s back soothingly.

“Maybe you’re not supposed to go back to your old life. Maybe this is a chance at a new beginning. All I’m saying is you’re free . Clara. Whether or not you choose to go back to your old life is up to you.”

Harry unlocked the basement door, it was dark and a musty smell hit his nose as he descended, he flipped on the light switch as he got to the bottom step, Alex was cuffed to a pipe, his head on his chest, gag stuffed firmly in his mouth. The other man looked up when he saw Harry step out of the shadows.

“What’s the matter?” Harry taunted. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?” He punched Alrc, his fist connecting with the other man’s cheek, Alex groaned in pain, slumping further. Harry yanked the gag out of Alex’s mouth, only to be met with hysterical laughter.

“Haha! Is that all you got? You punch like a b-” Harry hit him again, more laughter. Alex spit blood from his mouth. “Whew, that’s a rush.”

“What did you do to her?” Alex only smiled, Harry hit him again, “What did you do!” he screamed, he grabbed a fistfull of Alex’s shirt, yanking him forward. Harry’s anger grew, Alex wasn’t afraid of him. He met Harry’s gaze head on.

“I only took….What was always mine.” he spat possessively. Harry slugged him again.

Raven was in the kitchen. She was sitting on the counter, legs dangling,drinking a glass of water. Harry went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, he sat down exhausted, cracking it open.

“Gemma called.” Raven said nonchalantly. Harry only sipped his beer, “She likes college. Asked how Jeff and the rest of us were doing.” Harry sighed deeply. Gemma was his older sister, biologically. When their mother was murdered, Jeff and his wife had adopted the two of them. Brought them to America. It was them, who taught Harry the life he and Raven now lived. Gemma had managed to get away, to go to school and make something of herself. He was proud of her. Really proud.

“You tell her we’re all good?” Raven nodded.

“But she worries. You know, she doesn’t want us doing…. the job ,” Raven used air quotes. “But someone has to do it. Isn’t that what Jeff always says?” Harry nodded. Jeff had helped him hunt down his mother’s killer years ago, that man had been his first kill, and he’d been working with his adopted father ever since. Taking out the evil in the world, one prick at a time. Raven felt the same way he did and they were a great team, he only wished she could live a different life. She was smart as hell, she could be or do anything. This was not a life he had wanted for her.

‘Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t screw up.’ She always said that, trying to cheer him up, but it never worked. He would always feel bad, knowing his sister’s potential for great things wasn’t being fully realized.

“What are we gonna do about Clara?” she wondered aloud. Harry leaned forward, elbows on knees, rubbing his temples. “She’s really messed up. She thinks this is an elaborate game Alex set up to try and test her loyalty to him. She wants to go back to the apartment. She wants us to let them go back.”

“It’s Stockholm Syndrome.” Harry said. “Almost textbook. She’s bonded with her captor for survival….That’s why she’s fighting us.”

“But you took her too. Why doesn’t she have that with you?”

“It takes time. I don’t think we were together long enough. And I wasn’t nearly as cruel as Alex was. She must have bonded with him to keep the abuse at bay.”

“So why don’t I have it?”

“Everyone’s different. And you weren’t there as long as she was. You said she’d been there for six months?” Raven nodded, “That’s 182 days of consistent psychological and physical abuse. That’s a long time Raven.” She sighed, fingering the glass in her hands.

“So what do we do? We can’t just let them go. She saved me from him Haz. If she hadn’t yelled for him to stop….” Harry stood, there was a quiver in Raven’s voice. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re going to do what we would do to any other scumbag. We’re going to kill him….And we’ll talk to Clara. She can stay here as long as she wants. I’m sure Jeff won’t mind.”

“Clara,” Harry gently shook the girl’s shoulder. It was dark, the living room illuminated by the moonlight. Clara’s eyes opened slowly, she started for a moment, still not used to her surroundings. “It’s okay,” Harry soothed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“What….What’s going on?” she asked. “Are you taking us home?” Harry sat down beside her. He didn’t touch her, but he wished he could. It was like that man had extracted everything that made her, her, and she was only a shell of her former self. It pissed Harry off to no end. She was a good kid, and didn’t deserve the shit hands she’d been dealt in life.

“No.” he watched her face fall. “I want to show you something. Will you let me?” He stood again, and this time he did reach out, offering her his hand. She hesitated, but took it after a moment. He helped her to her feet and slowly pulled her out of the living room and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Harry was a killer, maybe he was going to finally just kill her. She would be okay with that. It wasn’t like she would be missed. He stopped at a cellar door.

“Come on.” he opened the door,and flicked on the light. She followed him as he descended.

“Are you going to kill me?” Clara asked.

“What did I tell you before?” Harry snapped, annoyance in his voice. Clara tried to think. She couldn’t remember. “I won’t hurt you. I just need you to come with me.” He helped her down the last step and pulled her into the room.

She saw him immediately, cuffed to a pipe, sitting in a chair. His face was swollen and bruised. He looked bad. But he smiled at her, grotesquely, when their eyes met. Clara shivered in fear.

“It’s okay.” Raven stepped out of the shadows. She came to Clara, placing a hand on her shoulder, the other girl only stiffened more, fear and anxiety began to churn in her stomach. A million thoughts rushing through her mind.

“What have you done?” Clara's voice was small.

“I told you. What I do for a living.” Harry pointed at Raven, “well Raven is my sister, and she does it too. It’s kind of like….a family business,” he had said it for lack of a better word, but nothing could have been truer, “We kill the bad guys, so good people, people like you, can live happy lives.” Clara was confused, she didn’t know where he was going with this. Until he pulled out the knife. “This is who I am. This is who we are.”

“Harry….please.” Raven walked over to Alex, pulling off his gag.

“Clara please. You know I love you. Everything I did was for you.” Alex’s voice was condescending and dripping with manipulation. Raven looked to see Clara had tears in her eyes.

“Clara,” Raven stepped in front of her, blocking Alex from her line of sight. “What are you doing,” she didn’t look at Clara with pity, or charity. She was looking at her like she was a friend. “This man. Murdered your girlfriend. He stalked you. He traumatized you.” She pointed to Clara’s ankle, “You still can’t walk right because he took a sledgehammer to you. Right? You told me that.” Alex started to speak.

“Shut up.” Harry growled. Raven paid no mind. She placed her hands on Clara’s shoulders.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can stay here, go back to Ohio, do whatever you want. But don’t give him anymore power over you. You are free.” Clara stared at Raven for a moment. She had said Clara could stay. Clara had a place to stay.

“But I...I don’t-”

“You don’t have to worry about anything. We will keep you safe.” Clara’s eyes flickered to Harry.

"What are you going to do?" the question was directed at Harry. He looked at her again, sighing.

“Sometimes…...people can’t help what they are….Sometimes people are just not all there and they kill because they have to. And then there are men who are monsters and they kill because they want to, because it feels good.” He fingered his knife, playing with it absently. “Alex Collins, just happens to be the latter of those two things.”

“What are you going to do?” Clara asked him again. Alex had fallen silent, watching the exchange intently. His fate was in her hands, she wouldn’t let him die. She loved him too. She said so.

"I'm going to kill him." Harry said softly. “”Slowly.” he added after a beat. Clara nodded, taking a deep breath.

"I want to." she whispered. Harry and Raven’s eyes widened, they looked at her with trepidation.

"What?" The determination and blatant hatred faded from Harry’s face, he spoke as though he hadn’t heard her correctly.

"I want to kill him." Clara walked forward, holding her hand out to Harry for his knife.

“Clara-” Raven started.

"Okay." Harry cut her off before she could finish, sliding the thick hilt of the blade into Clara’s palm. They followed Clara as she walked over to where Alex was tied up. He stared at her in disbelief. He held up his hand when Raven opened her mouth. “This is her kill if she wants it. It’s her revenge.”

“Clara….” her name fell off Alex’s lips in shock. She looked at him with disgust. Rage and anger began to consume her, six months worth of pent up hostility. She felt like an animal that had been caged and abused. She was finally free, and ready to bite the hand that fed her.

She looked back at Harry. He was watching her closely, arms folded, ready to step in if she needed him. “Show me what to do.” His lips parted, and his eyes grew wide, but he walked to her, his eyes dark and dangerous. He stood behind her, placing his hand over hers, as he guided it towards Alex’s stomach.

“Clara,” Alex’s voice was pleading. “Clara you said you loved me.” she looked him in the eye. Fear long gone, something else had taken over her, a ghost, a demon, whatever it was, she felt alive again for the first time in a long time.

“I lied.” She let Harry’s hand guide hers, as she plunged the knife deep into Alex’s stomach.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1 #imagine harry styles

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luccislegs · 5 years ago

Note

May I get a continuation (from any of the Roger/Reader/Rogue, or not specified, up to you cuz i love em all and dont mind any of them) when Reader finally finds his son, Ace... but its in the newspaper on Marineford and he's just like 'Oh f^ck no' and goes to save Ace? (in which he actually saves him please cuz i need some good feels rn plz lol) ~cute anon :D

:^)

You recognized Ace the very instant you saw his wanted poster. The smile was all Roger, but you could see Rouge in there as well. Your heart thudded in your chest as your legs gave out. It took you awhile to gather yourself back up and you were torn between tracking him down and letting him be. He had no idea who you were, you had no idea if Garp had told him about you, and you weren’t sure if you would be interrupting his new life.

All you knew was that Roger would be proud.

You couldn’t help yourself, you decided to track him down. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you found him, but as of right now you just wanted to see him, to know for sure that he was alive and healthy.

Before you could locate him, though, news came in that he had been captured by the World Government. They were instigating a war with Whitebeard and the pirate fleet was convening on Marineford even as you read the newspaper clipping. You nearly blacked out at the news. After everything that Roger and Rouge had done, giving their lives so that he could live, the Marines would not take your son.

It no longer mattered whether he knew you or not, you were headed to Marineford. Your crew was hesitant to go but once you gave them the long-kept secret that Ace was your son, they were all too willing to follow you into death.

Upon arrival, it was chaos. Pirates and marines clashed everywhere and, up on the execution platform, you could make out Ace– bloody, battered, and bruised but alive. No one is sure how you managed to make it over the ice wall, whether you crept in through the hole Whitey Bay broke in it or through sheer willpower you climbed over the wall, but there you suddenly were, in the thick of it.

Combining multiple distractions with Luffy’s chaotic fighting and Mr. 3’s wax key, you managed to rescue Ace. You were tired and terrified, but otherwise unharmed, like him. Upon his rescue, Akainu attempted to follow but Whitebeard’s timely intervention saved all three of you from him, and suddenly you were on the Moby Dick and sailing away. If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to tell them how.

You were so caught up in Ace, standing right before you that you almost burst into tears. It was like a fresh wave of pain overcame you, as if Roger and Rouge had died just yesterday instead of almost 20 years ago. Ace was tired, and confused, and you found out then that he was also every bit the hot-head his father was.

There was a bit of a fight when you explained who you were, and Whitebeard’s agreement with you didn’t really help. Ace was so adamant that Whitebeard was his father that he wouldn’t listen to you for an instant. After he departed, you had a long conversation with Whitebeard, explaining Roger’s decision and yours.

Whitebeard understood. He never knew the full extent of Roger’s reasoning, but he had never believed, as Ace had, that Roger simply gave up. His illness wasn’t exactly a secret, but only those close to him knew the extent to which it went, and now Whitebeard too understood why Roger would give up his life like that.

You intended to leave the next morning, once you’d rested up. As much as you wanted to stay and try to get to know Ace, you also understood his anger. He didn’t even know you existed and all of a sudden you show up, rescue him, and claim to have been his parent’s partner. You didn’t liken yourself as his dad, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t your son, and if he wanted you to leave, you would without a fight. You wanted nothing but happiness for him and if you not being in his life brought it to him, then it was what would happen.

To your surprise, though, Ace sought you out that night. Asking if he could speak to you, he led you towards the bow of the ship, away from prying ears. It seemed Whitebeard had given him a little insight, hinting he should at least talk to you and find out what really happened.

Ace asked some hard questions, the worst of which was why you didn’t look for him until now. That was enough to bring the guilt you had carried for almost 20 years back to the surface, and it was difficult to explain. He didn’t exactly like the answer, but you could see that he understood.

The more you talked, the more you could see your former partners in him. The freckles, the eyes, the smile, and the laugh all brought painful memories back in waves, but it also brought overwhelming happiness.

After a while, he asked you to tell him about them. No one he’d ever spoken to had anything nice to say about Roger, not even Whitebeard, and hearing you corroborate their stories made you seem more real. But when you told him about how much Roger cared for you and Rouge, and how excited he was to learn of Ace, you could see a change in his demeanor.

At the end of the night, when the sun began to turn the sky pink, Ace finally asked if you were going to stay. You hesitated. You had a life and you couldn’t feasibly just leave. But then you realized you had neglected your son for almost 20 years and you could never truly make up for that. If you couldn’t give him this, a small chance to get to know his parents, you may as well have left him up on that stand to die.

#gol d. roger #gol d. roger x reader #portgas d. rouge #portgas d. rouge x reader #gol d. roger x portgas d. rouge #gol d. roger x reader x portgas d. rouge #portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace & reader #one piece headcanons

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sunnieskies02 · 5 years ago

Text

You Need It More Than I Do (College AU)

Shouto Aizawa x Reader

3.3k Words

Trigger Warnings: n/a; A/N: This is for you Pinky @pinky-the-elephant-room

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

Working at the Elephant Cafe was more shitty than it can get.

You opened and closed the shop every single day, the customers were shitty especially the teenagers/ highschool students. You hated them with a passion, every time they walked in you wanted to bang your head on the wood counter so you wouldn’t have to deal with their antics.

Some of them would make a scene and destroy some of the tables and chairs forcing you to kick them out. Other items you would see these big groups of girls walk in, order something that sounded pretty off of the menu, take thousands of pictures of it and then walk out. And every time they did that you silently thought to yourself ‘What the fuck! Those pieces of shit waste so much food, and they come in EveRyDaY!’

You sigh in utter disappointment but you kept on working throughout the day.

The Elephant Cafe was in a very affluent district, fancy cars would silently roll down the street with designer stores covering each side. You realized that the people who came in had almost all the money in the world, and could give two shits about wasting the food or their money. You hated that, you despised how the kids that would walk in would have the rest of their lives planned while you worked all the hours of the day.

A day in your life went a little something like this: At 3am, you would wake up and do your morning routine and be out the door by 3:30am. At 4 o'clock in the morning you would do package deliveries until 8am where you would then change to go to the cafe and work there from 8:30 to 1 in the afternoon. By the graces of Satan you are blessed with a 30min lunch where for the majority of that time you are a part time hotline operator. Then at 5pm, you close the cafe and head to the local convenience store and work from 5:30 to 10pm and you’d still have to do your online college course.

Four jobs in total, not all of them paid well, and the only job that did pay well was working at Elephant cafe. Your home situation wasn’t the greatest, years before you had become a college student your father had died leaving you and your mother to fend for each other. Your mother was a sweet little old lady who took care of the neighborhood children and was a strong prominent woman. Knowing that your mother was growing older in age, you, in secret, gave up on going to college to make more money to take care of her and was going to stay with her mother to take care of her.

But mother knew best.

She told you “Don’t worry about me sweetheart. You need to live your life, I’m not that much an old hag. I can carry my own, be free, and live life. AND don’t forget to bring me back some grandchildren.” As much as you told her that you wanted to stay and take care of her, your bag was packed and you were shipped off to a new part of the country.

Dad didn’t leave a lot of money when he died. So when you were in the big city and on your own getting a job was your very first priority. As you job hunted, you found plenty of job openings and applied to them as soon as possible. Luckily you didn’t have to worry about housing because your friend Mirio had a spare room in his apartment and was allowed to stay as long as you cleaned up and kept yourself healthy. | this sounds a bit awkward and it would be best if you reworded it.

You felt bad for Mirio, but envied him at the same time He got a full ride to E Univeristy while you were working every hour of every day to amass enough money to survive and still try to graduate on time. Life sucked but there was no other way ( respectful way) at that to make more money than you were already making and saving.

Money had you in a mental bind, you felt bad that you were leeching off of Mirio who was working hard, but now even harder because he had an additional mouth to feed.

“Hey y/n? You seem out of it, what's wrong?’ Mirio’s cheerful voice rocked you out of your depressing thoughts and you turned your head towards him. You sigh, « I just… want to make more money y’know. I already work four jobs and I just wanna make money without having to work. » A laugh erupts from Mirio’s chest and he says « Well, the world doesn’t work that way. That’s why I’m letting you stay here for as long as you need. Don’t fret. »

You wanted to combat his words but his bright smile doesn’t allow you too. You close your computer and make way for your room, you throw yourself into your bed and look at the clock. 12:00’ the clock read « Fuck me. » You turn over and force yourself to get a wink of sleep and prepare for another slave away day.

oOo

Elephant Cafe was bustling as normal, preppy pieces of shit would walk in and cause a ruckus. The same group of girls would walk in order food, snap it, post it, then dip. You rest your head on your hand at the counter, and all of a sudden a man walked it. You lifted your head and saw a man who was wrapped in a dull scarf, with eye bags heavier than your under your eyes.

“I’d like a dark coffee with 4 shots of espresso please.” His voice was deep and velvety, it shook you to your core. “Yessir and may I get the name for your order?”

“Aizawa Shouta please.”

“Your total will be—“ A crash interrupted your sentence. Two high school kids were fighting in the dining area over who knows what. “G-give me a minute I’m sorry.” You reluctantly walk over to them and try to handle the situation.

“Who the FUCK do you think you are putting your hands on me!!”

“I barely touched you, I am just asking you to leave the premises. You are disrupting the others.”

“I DON'T CARE!!! My dad could buy you and all of those shitty workers back there!!”

‘I’m pretty sure he could.’ “Please ma’am, whatever you and your friend is arguing about could probably be solved by or infinite pockets and—“

“The fuck is that supposed to mean. Are you saying because I have money and privileges I can’t have any problem!?”

You didn’t answer. Then a splash of water is thrown on your face, and the laughter of the woman erupts in your ear. You wanted to keep your job, but something in you snapped.

“ Your right. I do think that you're privileged and rich and yes you might have problems but I bet you wouldn’t LAST a day in my life.” The girl was silent and shocked “I WORK FROM 4am to 5pm every single day. Four jobs from 4am to 5pm AND I go to college online. I don’t make enough to live on campus, or enough to live on my own. I’m sick and tired of rich pieces of shit not respecting those that work for and around you. You come in here everyday, and disrespect all of us and threaten to have us fired! YOU’RE DADDY’S GIRL AND I HOPE HE CUTS YOU OFF SO YOU'LL HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW THE WORLD REALLY WORKS. I GET SO TIRED OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE WORLD AT THEIR FEET AND NEVER WORKED A DAY IN THEIR GODDAMNED LIFE!”

The girl looked at you slack jawed. She didn’t know what to say, she looked at you in awe. “Go a head and call your daddy, cuz’ that’s all the fuck you know how to do.”

You walked back behind the counter and continued with the customer who didn’t look dazed at all. Drenched in water, out of breathe, adrenaline pumping “Your total is 5.95. Will that be cash or card?”

“Cash,” he said. He fumbled in his pocket and handed you an American Black Card. You swipe it and he tells you “Debit is fine.” You look at him with a warm smile and back down at the illuminating screen.

“I like what you did back there. She looked really surprised that there are people who actually work.” You scoff, “ Hell yeah, and I work too hard for her to always call on her dad when things don’t go her way. My dad died so does it look like I can call on him, hell no. I work four jobs and I’m still poor.” Realizing that you damn near poured your life to this man you didn’t know you look up and see a small smile.

His order is completed and you hand him his drink. “While you were working so hard her dad showed up.” You roll your eyes and groan, then an envelope and business card is handed your way. “ If you are fired just give me a call. I’ll help you, a hard worker nowadays is hard to come across. And daddy’s little girl is a prime example.” Once he walked up the girl's dad spoke with you, and you were happy that he sided with you in the matter. Which resulted in the girls father cutting her off to make her work to be just as wealthy as he was since he was self made. The look on her face was priceless and she tried to argue with him but the dad didn’t care at all. Daddy’s little girl would have to become a woman.

As Shouta walks out and you look at the envelope, it looked….pretty thick. A cold sweat ran down your face, what was he trying to do? Was it a sleep agent filled envelope! Was it DRUGS?! Not saying that you wouldn’t use them but….what kind of drugs. You take an envelope and place it in your locker in the back and for the rest of the evening, it sits on your brain.

When your shift was over you grabbed the envelope and rubbed it with your callused hands. ‘What the fuck is in here.’ And at the same time you fumbled his business card in your hands. The card read ‘ Kitty Kafe CEO. Owner Of Kitty Kafe Around the Globe. Mobile #: ***-***-***’ Your heart nearly dropped

Into your ass, ‘WTF!’ You’ve never run home so quickly.

“MIRIO!!!! I-I met thé CEO of Kitty Kafe and he gave me his business card and envelope.” He quirked an eyebrow “Wow! That’s a once in a lifetime chance how’d you look?”

“H-how’d I look? I was in my—“ It dawned on you, when you met him you were in your cafe uniform but later drenched in water. “ I was in uniform but later drenched wet.” Mirio shot you a concerned look “No like that you ass. A customer there threw water on me so… yeah.”

You and Mirio spoke about the events of the day and how you made a girl get financially cut off by her dad. That night you slept soundly but that envelope stayed in your mind.

The next day at the cafe you had the envelope at your side waiting for him to come back and to your luck he did. He had the same look on his face and he said “Well it’s nice to see that you aren’t drenched in water this time.” You chuckle, “Same thing as last time, CEO Shouta?”

“So you looked at the business card, it’s good to know that you're literate. But yes,” He hands you his card and rings up your order, “ I’d like for you to sit with me while I drink you coffee. I don’t want to force you.”

You look up at him and furrow your brows “W-why?”

“Don’t act like a kid, I was intrigued by your actions and what you told me. All I wanted to do was know more.” You relaxed ‘Okay, well at least he isn’t a creep.’ Once his drink was made you hold it and walk with him to the seat. While you and him sat together you learned more about Aizawa, he did come from an affluent family but he wished to make it on his own. He was a self made billionaire and his business was flourishing more than he thought. You had also found out that he hated kids, but he was a teacher for a fraction of his life so that was humorous.

Both of you spoke for hours until the end of your shift. Some days, he would sit and watch you work behind the counter. How the sweat would get stuck in your face, and how you would make everyone’s order perfect. Other days he would purchase something for you to eat and laugh at how some crumbs from the cake would stick to your face.

“Hey, you have something on your face.”

“I-i do. Where?” Aizawa leans across the white table and wipes the crumbs off of your cheek. His calloused finger rubbed over your lip slightly and returned back to your cheek. Your face became dusted with pink as he continued to stare at you. His eyes were a deep maroon color, and the seemed as if they peered into your eyes.

“You have very pretty eyes.” Shouta takes his hand back and places it back onto the table and stares. His eyes had a calming effect, his eyes were somehow piercing but soothing at the same time. On another occasion you had made him laugh, you and him have a mutual hate for children, so when you were sitting and chatting with him and said “These kids are the result of too much money shoved up their asses. They need to get smacked the fuckk up.”

Hearing him laugh was foreign to you. It was deep and hearty, like a dad’s laugh in a sense. Aizawa laughed and laughed and when he finally stopped his face went back to its restless state. You look at him in shock and he says “It wasn’t that funny.” You playfully sock his arm and chuckle, pink dust crosses his face and he smiles. These conversations were to die for.

You enjoyed the time you spent with him and hated it when he had to leave. He waved you a goodbye and walked out. You returned to the table and noticed that another envelope was left and you saw that it had your name on it. ‘Was this for me?’ You picked it up and it dawned on you that you forgot to give him the other envelope. You just had to wait till tomorrow, and tomorrow came.

The same thing happened over and over again, Aizawa would order his dark coffee with 5 shots of expression and ask you to sit with him. When you sat with him, you felt the world was on your side, his still face and weird smiles that looked more scary than sweet made you laugh. And at the end of your shift envelopes would be left on the table. It was like he left them on purpose that late because he would have wanted to see you the next day.

Over 3 months of meeting him and texting him( because you had finally exchanged numbers) you had over 93 envelopes with your name on it sitting in your room. It got on your nerves, why had he left them, what was he planning for you?

The next day when you showed up to open. », Aizawa was there,

“What are you doing here Aizawa and I need to talk to you anyway.” he quirked an eyebrow and said “I’m not going to be able to attend our daily meetings. I'm gonna go out of town. So I wanted to see you.” ‘Hé wanted to see me??’ That was weird but once you unlocked the store you motioned him inside.

“What did you wanna y’all about? ” You closed the door behind him and dumped your bag on the table « These envelopes. What’s in them? » He looked at you and said « Money. »

“Money?” Aizawa walked over to an envelope that was pretty thick and spoke, “I looked into who you are y/n. And you’ve had it pretty hard.”

He was right, hell yeah your life was hard. « You moved from a village to a big rich city for school all in your mother’s words after your father died. You came here to get a good education to get a high paying job to send your mom money, so you work hard. Everyday and I saw the pain in your eyes. You push through it but pushing threw isn’t going to be good enough »

You looked at him in shock and he continued to talk. So, when I saw you handed that girl her ass, I started to like you. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you everyday, you were interesting.”You sit at the table and he says, ' In every last one of these envelopes was enough money to give you your own place and money to send to your Mom.” Tears started to form at the corners of your eyes « Working yourself to death is no way to live if you want to die early. So I wanted to help you and I thought you would have caught on. »

You were shaken, you had only met this man 4 month ago and he was treating you in such a way that no one has treated you before. “Why, why are you doing this? I-I don’t understand, I--”

“You work hard. You are a very determined person and everyday you deal with people shit, who never give a damn about anyone else. And,” he walks over to you and grabs your hand. “Everyday I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with someone as strong and eloquent as you.” Your heart breaks a little, “Is this what happens when you are nice to people? I guess I should be nice to rich people more often.’

You hurriedly wipe the tears off of your face and repeatedly say thank you again and again and again. But a thought dawned on you, “Hey Shouta… how old are you?” He looks down through squinted eyes, “38 years old. Why?”

“I-I’m…(y/a). So that makes you…” you show him a big beaming smile. “Myyyy SUGAR DADDY!!!” You giggle hysterically and he rolls his eyes. “I hate to ask this but what the hell is a sugar daddy?” he asked calmly

“Well~ a sugar daddy is an old man who gives a young boy or girl a shitton of money. And you're kinda doing the same.” You latch onto his arm and hear him emit a disgruntled tch come from his mouth.

“Well at least you are being given money for a good reason. You work harder than what you are paid so I’m paying you….and for also being another realist in this world.” You sigh and look up at him, and he looks back at you and continues “ This world runs on greed and people who are hard workers never have enough money to grant themselves a better life. And those who do have the money to live a lavish life they waste it. I saw you and believed that as hard as you work you need it more than i do. So I’m fine giving you money because you earn it based off of your hard work and determination.

You were happy. You were given the golden ticket and you can finally start being more productive and given a man that doted on you for how hard you work and appreciated it. Aizawa was different, and that’s what made meeting him all the better.

#boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #request #sugardadddy #bhna #bhna fluff #mha shouta

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eriisaam · 4 years ago

Text

Nobody:

Me: Who wants moar streetracer AU crumbs? 8D

Road Wyvern (name tentative), owned by Camilla.

In a family fractured between streetracers and nons, she’s at odds with Xander between her passion as a racer and his massive concern for her safety, especially when as I mentioned last time for another sketch I did way back, Camilla was in a pretty bad wreck once before, and badly scarred the left side of her face while losing her left eye. (However, said accident wasn’t quite as “accidental” as it all seemed.) Occasionally, she hitches an additional seat for more mundane rides, but takes full advantage of her mostly dark palette during late night races not to be easily told in her daytime ongoings with the same bike. She’s a leader of a group of bike enthusiasts who may or may not be involved in lots of underground (probably) after dark streetrace circuits.

She is currently in a relationship with a budding med trainee, Erin, who found her at the scene of her accident and helped stabilize her long enough to go to the hospital. Because Erin can’t drive for crap, Camilla offered to drive for her, eventually easing her into outright drive dates together.

Silent Dragon, owned by Kamui (male Corrin). To Xander’s dismay, Kamui took up a bike and racing after heavy encouragement from Camilla, who similarly encouraged her other siblings. However, with Garon’s horribleness, combined with the increasingly high tension between Camilla and Xander, Kamui, at a loss of how not to make it so much worse, eventually runs away from home and rides off. In the time he disappeared, tensions broke so much that Camilla’s and Xander’s arguments eclipsed, they both said things they’ve soon regretted, and it all came to head when, while Xander was out trying and failing to find Kamui, Camilla was involved in the aforementioned wreck.Although Kamui wasn’t personally involved in said wreck, he blamed himself for leaving and leading to said turn of events, so while he visited Camilla when she was too bad off to realize he was there, he avoided his family even worse so after the incident.

By complete chance, Kamui wound up being roomates in the college dorms with Erin, and Eclair, while neighbors with Dash, Sparrow and Lyon, and as Camilla eventually got close enough to Erin to find out Kamui lived with them. The accident didn’t even cross her mind in favor of her massive joy and relief to find him again where she then proceeded to blow the landline up to no end of their dorm thereafter for a long while.

Happy Dream. Rider is Gunnthra. Jokingly/mockingly, people also dubbed it “Hello Ktty” for how obnoxiously kawaii it is, but for the sake of not having my kneecaps busted by Sanrio, it’s officially Happy Dream.

Gunnthra is a budding racer who had aspirations to have a pretty bike and by gawd she’s gonna get it. After running into Teru in his garage shop, and with him humoring her request for Happy Dream to be modded in all its brightly colored glory, it turned out she’s terrifyingly good in races, despite how caught off guard most get to see her bike, and through her unbridled joy and thrill of getting the hang of streetracing, it reignites Teru’s own interest to help her and relive his glory days through proxy of her.

Falchion, owned by Chrom. Its initial name was supposed to be Falcon, but Chrom got nervous and typoed the name while registering it, so Falchion it is.

He’s the least experienced out of anyone in streetracing, and quite honestly has no business at it. The reason he got roped into it at all is cuz he thought Sparrow and Lyon were cute, wanted to find a way to get to know them and break the ice, and Camilla, being Camilla, swooped in all “well biking’s cool, they’ll probably dig bikers. :) “

By pure luck and happenstance, he’s thankfully enough of a natural not to seriously break himself, surprisingly won his first race, and it took all the nerves in his not-quite-as-ylissian-but-whatever-this-AU body to try to pretend like he knew what he’s doing (while screaming internally), and how he has to live his lie to save face.

Except Sparrow and Lyon were way easier to impress than he thought, and both would’ve liked him just as well if he had any remote interest in games and anime but shhhhh...

Demon King, owned by Lyon. Between him and Sparrow, he has more experience in streetracing than he initially lets on.

While normally, Lyon is just another student trying to get by, he’s secretly more of an adrenaline junkie than he lets on. Partially, he started off stressed to a point of falling sick (often and repeatedly) out of stress, tension, taking way too much of his studies all at once, and the heavy, heavy inferiority complex he has of whether or not he could ever hold a candle to the name Vigarde made for himself in the social network.

Turns out, however, Vigarde was not just a big name in the public eye, but in the underground as well in his prime, and he was the previous owner of Demon King before he forced himself to retire from the public eye due to his ailing health. While Vigarde was supportive of Lyon’s pursuits of knowledge, and was open to the idea of letting him one day inherit Demon King, he initially hesitated on the idea up until he tried his first streetrace with a different bike he borrowed and won.

Although initially trying to ground himself and swear off the idea, he unfortunately was overcome by the sheer thrill and energy from the adrenaline rush of such a reckless and chaotic sport, he eventually does end up taking Demon King after all, albeit not simply for commute as his father believed. Though he maintains a calm, fairly friendly and helpful demeanor in schoolwork, he is described as having a completely different personality in races he takes part in, being highly competitive and surprisingly terrifying, living up the reputation of a speed demon.

I’ll be honest, I have no crumbs for Dimitri, or any real plot thoughts about the Blue Lion, but someone requested a bike for Dimitri, and also this gives me a chance to share thoughts of the other people:

- Erin is a student studying medicine, and while it’s debatable how much of it is outright her job just yet, she’s a trainee, and she happened to be around when Camilla was in her wreck to stabilize her and call an ambulance for her, saving her life. When Camilla sought her out to find her again, the two got closer to a point of dating, and it’s through her that she eventually reunited with her estranged brother, Kamui. Though she doesn’t drive at all, and she harbors all manner of history that would imply she should be against biking and streetracing, she doesn’t get in Camilla’s way of her clear passion for riding bikes despite her experiences. She also is frenemies with Kyo, to a point her rivalry with him is bad enough to make her recognize when he pulls up on campus from the sound of his engine. She is just as familiar of Camilla’s engine to otherwise perk up at the sound of Camilla pulling up similarly.

- Kyo is an on-again off-again biker who cycles through more bikes than clothes. He owns a penthouse to live elsewhere, he works as a charmer off-campus, and he initially catches the interest of Kamui and Eclair in trying to charm both of them, whom Erin and lightly so Sparrow are less than convinced of his virtues behind why, especially as they unfortunately got to know both have pretty big and powerful family connections (well, Lyon too, but still...) He made an enemy out of Thorr, so much so that she tried to task a hit against him, only for the hit to target Teru instead (who unfortunately looks similar) which caused Teru to be permanently stuck with crutches, was the cause of Camilla’s accident, and nearly killed the one doing the hit, all in one fell swoop, just on the vain attempt to get Kyo to stop coming near her son Eclair. To say she was infuriated to find out Kyo came out of it all unscathed and still trying to woo her son is an understatement.

- Sparrow, whose actual name is Jase, uses the handle of “Sparrow” this AU based on her online aliases as she works for commission on art, this also being her major. She tends to be the most keen on upkeep of keeping the place tidy and not on fire. She knows more than she lets on about Lyon’s underground antics and suspects Chrom’s doing far more than he could actually handle, but so long as they and Dash stay alive and well, that’s about as much as she has the spoons to care for. She’s slightly more accommodating to Kyo, but not as unsuspecting of him completely like Kamui of his intentions with him and Eclair.

- Eclair is actually named Magni, and is the son of Thorr and nephew of Loki, both of whom are powerful people with heavy social influence, including in the underground. He is, effectively, a son of a mafioso, and despite meaning well this time around and trying to have a more genuine mother-son relationship to him this time, Thorr is still too smothering, controlling, and too much of a helicopter parent to have a particularly healthy relationship with all the same (but at least this time around, the three aren’t so all powerful as to delete countries with a passing fart, so, yay.) This unfortunately left him bright-eyed, naive, and very babie-vibed of the world of college life, which he only got into because Loki happens to like to give him leeways, be it to have Cool Aunt dibs and/or to piss Thorr off on purpose otherwise. While he isn’t so hopeless as to not function in the normal world, he unfortunately is still hopelessly naive all the same, which led to Erin and Sparrow being much more protective of him and Kamui.

#My kiransona things #My OCs Headcanons #Just AU things #Streetracer AU #This isn't a be all end all thing #But it's certainly a thing

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my-funky-little-cowboy · 5 years ago

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Ooo for that character thing you posted? How do you feel about Dutch or Arthur? What’s one thing you wished would’ve happened?

Oh man, I can break them both down for ya, I’ll do the full break downs, just cuz I have for all the others too

Dutch:

How I feel about this character

I find him to be a very good chaotic character. I think he is a necessary character for the plot. He has these idealistic goals and I think honestly that is where things kind of go south. He would be very much equated to a modern day cult leader. He is charismatic and charming, but in the end he is out for no one but himself. He uses people to get what he wants, and while he may have at once have had others best interested in mind over time it became more important for people to respect him than for the group to have their best life.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I uhh don’t really ship anyone with Dutch, because I can’t see him as being selfless enough to be in a healthy relationship? I don’t care who anyone chooses to ship him with, everyone is entitled to their ships. I just can’t see any because the only person Dutch really loves is himself, imo.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Hosea. I think that they created something beautiful with the VDL gang. a mostly lovable gang of losers.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t think that he had any kind of head trauma from the trolley accident. I think that as things started to get more and more out of control he found it harder to fake that idealism that he wanted anything more than power and money. While I do think he wanted to keep the gang together, I think it was less out of caring and more out of wanting more people who would listen to him and follow him.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I mean I played the first game, so I kinda knew what was going to happen, but I kind of wish that Dutch had gotten more of a direct consequence to his action as opposed to those around him suffering for his choices.

I also kind of wish that we got more about him and Annabelle, like perhaps she was the last person that he truly loved selflessly, but from what we got even she seems like she may have been an excuse to fight with Colm.

Arthur:

How I feel about this character

I have a lot of feelings about Arthur. The man is a mess. He is bad person, and he knows it, but he also has a good heart. The man grew up in a world that gave no shits about him, and somehow he came out of that still having empathy and knowing that there is still goodness in the world.

He is one of the most relatable protags that has come out of a video game in years, and more importantly the western genre. Not to mention one of the most fleshed out. While I will always have a soft spot in my heart for John Marston I have to admit he now has to share that spot with his older brother. Rockstar has really just come into my home and slapped me in the got damn face twice now in ten years.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I pretty much only ship Arthur with Charles and Sadie, I can see him in a relationship with Albert if he had a different upbringing. I think that Albert would have a hard time with him being an outlaw, because he kind of shies away from ever really telling that to Albert. If they had met some other way, they would have been the softest couple ever. Just sayin’.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Arthur & John, Arthur & Javier, Arthur & Sean. I love all of these guys together. Obviously I love the sibling relationship that John and Arthur have, it’s very accurate. As an older sibling I feel for Arthur, but also see how John has to deal with living in Arthur’s shadow (or so he thinks)

Arthur and Javier are both artists. I think that Arthur tends to be seen kind of a bigger brother to a lot of the gang members that are younger. He may also be the only person in the gang to kind of give them the time of day, so they cling to him. Either way, I’m all about big brother Arthur.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think that Arthur is sex-repulsed during much of the game, and he isn’t someone to take any kind of casual partner. I also don’t see him as a casanova, I feel like he is pretty inexperienced in sex.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish they had taken a bit more time with the development of his TB, or at least had maybe let him live through the game. I understand why they didn’t because we have to set up for 1, and we are locked in, but there are a ton of ways that could have been done. If they are okay with writing Sadie and Charles into the Epilogue without them being a part in the first game I feel like there was an option for Arthur. For all John knows Arthur could have died, when he left he was sure that Arthur was going to his death...but he didn’t have to.

TB is highly unlikely to kill someone of Arthur’s health in less than 6 months, even with all the shit that happened to him, he could have lived for a couple years. I honestly thought the game took way longer and when I figured out the game timeline I was hella mad. Because they gave us this compelling story, and they just rushed the ending. Somehow it just feels like it was an issue with some re-writes D:

Send me a Character and I’ll break them down

#hyde answers #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #character analysis #long post #text #asks #michaxlangxlo

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years ago

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please hate rant about how much lorenzo sucks to me i also hate him and wish more people talked about it

MY TIME HAS COME

no, but really, like............... he’s so awful? like ever since he’s first introduced, he does nothing but abuse his power in order to antagonize magnus and it’s so unnecessary and ugly and like. magnus says he doesn’t like him when he’s first introduced (tho i think part of it is just the salt of losing his job talking, which, i mean, fair) but still he’s not even, like, unpleasant to him (really it’s more alec who’s bitching and making faces, and honestly icon) and then lorenzo is just the fucking ugliest from the start.

and EVERYTHING he does is literally horrible like it’s not just some general petty rivals thing, he legit tries to kill him. i cannot fucking stress enough that that’s literally what happened. only lorenzo could undo the magic transfusion, and if he didn’t, magnus would die, and lorenzo decided not to do it knowing full well of that. he left magnus to die. he was gonna let magnus die. on purpose. he was gonna kill magnus. i don’t think people treat that as the horrible thing that it is, honestly. i see some people talking about them like they’re fun rivals or something like that, or like there’s just some dumb beef, but no, it’s literally like. he tried to FUCKING KILL HIM, and i don’t give a shit if he ended up taking back the magic at the end, because he only did it because Alec not only begged, but specifically told him that Magnus was no threat to Lorenzo. the only reason he did it was because he knew that he would still be at the top at the end. I wouldn’t even be surprised if his thought process was “oh, it’s gonna be even more torture for him to keep living as a mundane knowing he has no other choice”. and then the way he takes magnus’ magic away is so forceful like... i’ve talked briefly about how violent asmodeus was when giving magnus his magic back before, and when lorenzo takes his transfusion back, it’s the same. literally if alec weren’t there to catch him he would have let magnus drop to the ground (might i remind you that he had almost died and was basically like coming out of surgery) and he didn’t even look at him. he did it super fast and violent and forceful on purpose just to make it extra hurtful and draining on his already fragile body. and i don’t mean fragile like “he was weakened” i mean like HE WAS STILL AT THE RISK OF DYING. and lorenzo deliberately hurt his body even more when it would be the easiest thing in the world not to. and then he finishes by being like “i’m keeping your home though”. like it’s so unnecessarily cruel.

and even if i ignore the fact that lorenzo is a literal murderer who tried to murder magnus for zero (0) reason, just. everything else. from the start. off the top of my head, i remember Lorenzo: accusing Magnus of sabotaging his party and basically wanting to arrest him without a single ounce of proof; abusing his power to keep Magnus from getting help with the whole owl thing; abusing his power again to keep him from getting medical help (a magic transfusion) from anyone; rubbing it in that Magnus had just lost his magic, which is basically equivalent of rubbing it in that someone lost a limb, like, he’s also a warlock, he knows that magnus is mourning and he still goes out of his way to humiliate him (if you don’t remember, i’m talking about when magnus goes for him to ask for a magic transfusion and he’s floating and all like “oh, i didn’t see you there” and refuses to come down. it’s like magnus had lost his legs and lorenzo was jogging and he just kept running so magnus couldn’t talk to him like. it’s so disgusting); naming a completely unfair price for the transfusion because he made magnus desperate enough to accept anything, which was clearly the plan all along, just so he could humiliate him further by making him homeless as well as miserable, and not even giving him a single day to move out, like, he really wanted magnus to just rot; yeah i think that’s it.

literally like none of these things is anything short of absolutely horrifying, incomprehensibly cruel, and borderline psychopathic. and he doesn’t even have a reason for hating magnus this much. it’s just like, oh, he’s asmodeus’ son, he’s more powerful than me! CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU PIECE OF SHIT. and let me just tell me i thought i was gonna die with laughter when he said that magnus was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, like doiuahdsiajnsada. dudebro was born a rich european at the height of Spain’s glory, got the HWoB position at a very young age for a warlock after making zero (0) efforts to actually help anyone, lives in a mansion. magnus has been abused at least twice (asmodeus and camille), has been homeless and almost died when he was just a kid, literally built himself from the ground up, invented portals and a shitton of other spells, making his reputation, has dedicated basically his entire life and more than what is healthy to the downworlder community as a whole, was literally tortured not a month ago. like shut the fuck up??? literally lorenzo is clearly so much more spoiled than magnus ever was (which explains his willingness to go this far to fuck him over, like......... imagine the amount of privilege you need to have to think taking away someone’s house is okay just because you’re jealous that they’re better at magic than you) and magnus’ reputation is way less the fact that he’s powerful and way more the fact that he’s 1- a genius, and 2- a great leader. but go off i fucking guess

but then we’re supposed to think he’s been “redemeed” because, what, Magnus didn’t go out of his way to unturn him into a lizard when asmodeus got him his house back? (honestly just the fact that he set up a nice environment for him is already so much more than he deserved, like..... id have thrown him in the sewer lmao magnus got him a whole cage with good lightning and temperature control and leaves and shit) because he agreed to go to edom literally ONLY because he was promised glory, clearly his #1 drive in life considering he’s done all of this to magnus purely because he’s mad magnus gets more recognition than him? for being like “yo alec don’t freak out and kill us all maybe” when alec was about to hurricane his ass into the depths of edom? like it’s so funny that magnus is all like “alec told me how you helped him in there...” bitch all he did was say “bitch calm down” like he didn’t even say anything besides “calm down” and “i know you can calm down” which is......... a surprisingly small amount of effort considering that if alec didn’t calm down he’d probably obliterate all their asses magically. like lorenzo probably wouldn’t die but still. also it’s his own magic, so you know. anyway, he did the literal bare minimum and didn’t even bother to be particularly supportive or anything, and suddenly he’s a hero? and he even had the fucking audacity to be like “i’m simply doing what any high warlock would do” when magnus saw him like doaiushdiuajdsamdksamda bitch first of all you weren’t gonna come. second of all it’s a little late to be all like “i care about my position and the responsibility i carry over other warlocks” AFTER you have already abused your position to deliberately antagonize someone more times than you have, like, gone to meetings. literally LORENZO FORBIDDING OTHER WARLOCKS FROM HELPING MAGNUS IS ABUSE OF POWER. it’s clearly personal, it’s fucked up, and it’s downright dictatorial behavior. it’s fucking abhorrent, and i’m gonna say it again, it’s completely crazy that the warlocks were juts like “k” with that. magnus had been HWoB for centuries and he’s never done anything of the sort and he dedicated himself fully to his people, willing even to sacrifice his relationship with alec for them, and has gone out of his way to help people individually his entire life, and then suddenly some other guy takes his position and immediately starts abusing it to antagonize the very person that had been on their side for centuries, and they’re all just fine with that??? like it’s already bullshit that magnus lost his position to begin with, because yeah the seelie queen was uh bad but honestly given the circumstances of even the most progressive side of the clave refusing to actually work with them instead of trying to control them (cuz that’s what alec did when he refused to tell him about the sword like. magnus explicitly said that the reason he broke up with him was because he felt like it was betwenen alec and his people after that and he was choosing his people, and honestly? he was right) and the world being at war with a very high possibility of a mass genocide and the seelie queen being their most powerful ally, he made the right call. but okay, i’ll believe that people were unhappy with that decision and he lost his position, whatever. but i cannot in any way believe that everyone was just watching lorenzo do that shit and didn’t care. anyway, in conclusion, sh writers: YOU DIDN’T REDEEM SHIT, lorenzo didn’t get a redemption arc, he shouldn’t have been at the malec wedding and i don’t give a shit if he flirted with underhill.

in short:

fuck lorenzo

yeah that sums up my feelings quite nicely

#ask #anonymous #sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #lorenzo rey #anti lorenzo rey #honestly u can just go to the lorenzo tag on my blog and enjoy thousands of shitting-on-lorenzo posts #ugh

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