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my-status-single · 7 months ago

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The One Where Peter Parker Has a Baby Chapter 2

He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s with Happy. They won’t let him run to him. He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s with Happy. He can’t go to him. He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s safe with Happy. He’s safe. His name is Ben. He’s four. He’s Peter’s.

She had been pregnant. It had been early. So early that it had been months before she even realised. Half of the universe disappeared, Peter included. And months later she had given birth to their son. Their son. Ben.

Fic Summary: Mostly canon compliant fic that centres around the relationship of Tony Stark's daughter and Peter Parker.

Notes: This is a Peter Parker/Reader fic. It jumps back and forth between the "present" (after the blip is reversed) and the past (pre blip reversal). The main focus is Peter and our girl Y/N, but there will be exploration into other relationships as well. These include but are not limited to Tony/Steve Peter/Harley Harley/Harry Peter/Harley/Harry Steve/Bucky Tony/Stephen.

Each chapter will have content warnings listed that are specific to the chapter just for added security, there will also be a summary of the chapter if the content is something you don't want to engage with but would like to continue to the next chapter. There will also be a comprehensive list of warnings. The severity of these topics varies from very intense to simply implied. Be sure to check the individual chapters for more detailed descriptions of how these themes are used.

Fic Content Warning: Underage sex, unplanned pregnancy, teen pregnancy, polyamoury, child abuse/neglect, parental death, suicide, self harm, Tony Stark in Endgame

Please, if there is ever something in this or any of my fics that you feel needs a content warning, feel free to message me and I will make sure to add it.

I want this to be a safe place for everyone.

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From the author: Taglist is OPEN, just leave a comment or send me a dm xxx

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Chapter Notes: First major canon divergence. Tony and Steve meet in early 2001 as Tony had taken over for Howard in SHIELD after his death. Let’s not think about it too hard. By the end of 2001 they are established in a relationship. And early 2002 they find out about the pregnancy. Reader is born in August of 2002.

It might be a bit annoying to have the reader be so flushed out as that can distract and make it harder to insert yourself into the story but…the timeline bro.

Word count: 1114

Chapter Content Warnings: Child neglect-Mentions of Howard Stark who is a bad dad. Reader's mother is very uninterested in the reader after the birth homophobia-Steve talks about being with a man in the 40s and it is lightly implied that it was not safe pregnancy-Tony gets a woman pregnant alcohol-Steve and Tony drink beer Stony-Steve and Tony are a couple

Chapter Summary: This chapter establishes the relationship between Tony and Steve and explains how the reader came to be. Reader is the product of a one night stand from Tony prior to becoming exclusive with Steve. Reader’s mother, Katherine, is a scientist working to recreate the super serum. She is described as cold and unattached.

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Chapter 1

Tony really tried to hate Steve when they first met. Truly. For reasons he found completely justified.

His dad was an ass.

And as far as he was concerned, that was Steve’s fault.

It ended up being impossible to hate him though. Because he was just so damn nice.

Which made Tony irrationally angry.

Steve wasn’t all that impressed by Tony. He hadn’t been all that impressed with Howard either though.

He didn’t really have any particularly strong thoughts or emotions about Tony.

He was mostly baffled Howard had had a kid.

He never seemed like the type.

Regardless

They both had a strange pull toward the other.

Like the other was a connection to something long past.

Steve is someone who knew Tony’s father, who he had grown up hearing about.

Tony was Howard’s son. And though he was rarely on the same page as him, he had still been a friend. And Tony was the closest thing to something from home.

They somehow ended up as something akin to friends.

Neither were great at the whole sleeping, or self care in general, thing, so there were lots of late nights, lots of long talks, lots of secrets shared. They spoke of Tony’s dating life, Steve wanted to know just how similar Tony was to his father. And during one of those talks, after some light teasing about what Steve must have gotten up to back in the day, Steve admitted that he and Bucky had been in a relationship.

Tony wasn’t exactly surprised.

“So, you’re gay then?” He asks him. They are sat on the floor of Tony’s lab, a half eaten box of pizza between them, and beers in their hands.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever really needed to label it.” Steve admits. “I just knew Bucky was my person.” He shrugs.

Tony understands this at some level. The not needing a label, not the other thing.

“You don’t have to label it.” He says, possibly trying to put Steve at ease. “I never have. I just like…the people I like.” He says. “I’ve never committed myself to someone the way you have though.

Steve nods slowly and sips his drink. “Don’t you get lonely?”

This causes Tony to pause.

He’s never really alone. He never really allows himself to be. Like he needs a buffer between him and his head. There are plenty of people, both in and outside of his bed. He’s popular. He’s desired, wanted, sought after. He’s never lacking in people who want to give him their time.

He finishes off his drink.

“Yeah.” He says finally.

Things change between them after that night. Like there was a newfound understanding between them. Both were tired of being lonely.

It starts out as just sex. Which was new ground for Steve, and he struggled with it for a while. Until he realised that his struggles weren’t from it being casual sex, but that he was developing feelings for Tony and didn’t want it to be casual sex.

Steve had always been pretty straightforward, but he still struggled a lot with the thought of confessing. He wanted to keep Tony in his life and was worried he’d run at the mention of commitment.

But its been over a year since they met. And months since they started sleeping together.

So he just…tells him one night.

He lacked some elegance in it if he was honest with himself.

Blurting out “I want you to be my boyfriend” while you’re balls deep in someone isn’t exactly tactful.

But it worked out okay for him in the end.

The universe is a bit fucked up though.

Because just months later Tony comes to him with life altering news that neither of them had been prepared for.

And with that news Tony brought an out.

“You didn’t sign up for this.” Tony says quietly.

“No, but neither did you.” Steve responds. He’s never seen Tony so…sullen. So conflicted.

“I knew the risks of fucking someone without a condom.” Tony says bluntly. “This was always a possibility.” He lets out a breath. “I…I’m gonna step up. I’m gonna be this baby’s dad. But you don’t have to be.” He says quietly. “I’ll understand if you go.”

Steve lets out a breath and takes both of Tony’s hands. “I was in love with a man in the 40s. Tony, I gave up on the idea of having children before I was even old enough to consider them in the first place. They were never an option.” Tony goes a bit pale. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want them.” He continues. “I knew who I was getting involved with, Tony. And if having you means having this baby then I guess we’re going to be parents.”

And it’s as simple as that.

In August of that year their daughter was born.

Their daughter’s mother was someone Steve had never met, prior to going to the hospital when she went into labour. But he knew her name. He’d learned her name, read about her. Read about a lot of people like her when he had looked himself up. He learned that there were a distressing number of people trying to recreate Erskine’s original serum. This woman, Katherine, was one of them.

She was a tall, slender woman. Stereotypically beautiful but almost hollow looking. Like there was something missing inside of her.

He doesn’t remember her ever holding the baby. She hardly looked at her. Something told him she had no interest in being a mother but somehow went through with the pregnancy anyway.

But he didn’t dwell on it. He didn’t care.

Because if this precious, tiny, perfect baby girl wasn’t reason enough…the way Tony looked when he held his baby was enough to make him ignore the slight concern he felt over the way Katherine was responding to motherhood.

Tony was built to be a father.

He was so perfect with her. And Steve had never been so fond of another person.

All his outward, arrogant facade broke down the second he was with their girl. She had him wrapped around his finger.

And Steve was no better.

He knew he was in trouble the first time they’d ever made eye contact.

How could he ever say no to this tiny girl?

Katherine was clearly not interested in being a mother to her daughter. She made no fuss when Tony asked if the baby could live with him. She wasn’t breastfeeding, and the baby was clearly more attached to Tony. But despite their request, she wouldn’t sign over her parental rights. Therefore, physical custody was shared between Katherine and Tony.

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Taglist: @bitchy-bi-trash

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maretinelli · 5 months ago

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WE WERE THREE ²

Edmund Pevensie X fem!reader

Summary: y/n and the Pevensie's return to Narnia, still missing their son, but something they find ends up bringing comfort to their lives. At least a little.

Words: 2.3K+

Warnings: Narnia, mention of their past, therapy, anguish, a lot of crying, but cute and comforting.

Author: English is not my first language, apologies for any errors that may occur throughout the story. And well, I couldn't wait any longer, I had to do part 2. I cried, but life goes on.

MASTERLIST

Parte 1

A year had passed. The Pevensies and Y/n had returned to England and their routine before the war.

Of course, not completely in the routine, as they still wanted to be in Narnia ruled together. But with each passing day, the bad feeling of having unconsciously abandoned a country calmed down.

Ed and Y/n talked a lot about their relationship and the son they had left behind.

Yes, there were nights when they fell asleep crying remembering Liam. The pain would probably never go away, it would be there, for life, but perhaps less painful every day.

Y/n had to attend therapy groups as soon as she returned from the teacher's house. Her family thought it was because of the war, that her mind was troubling her, but the reality is that every day she blamed herself for leaving Liam behind, and that haunted her mind.

Edmund had accompanied his girlfriend to some sessions. Because he also had that feeling of guilt.

It would be more disturbing for them - perhaps much more so for Y/n. If only she knew she was pregnant with her second child when they got back. The guilt would probably be greater and make the girl do something crazy.

But it was a good thing they didn't know that part. Maybe not knowing about the second pregnancy was a good thing. Because in the reality they lived in, she would disappear the same way.

Susan, Lucy and Y/n were on the streets of London. Lucy had informed Susan and Y/n that there was a fight at the train station, and it was probably one of the boys who was involved in it.

"Excuse me, please excuse me" Lucy said as she tried to get to the fight.

A lot of people were around the boys who were fighting, but instead of separating them, they were giving more support to the fight.

"Peter!!!" Susan screams.

Y/n quickly looks around, trying to locate her boyfriend. But it seemed like he wasn't engrossed in that.

Until someone ran past her and threw her backpack on the ground.

"EDMUND!!" Y/n screams and tries to go down a few more steps of the stairs, but people were making it impossible for her to pass. "EXCUSE ME"

But it was too late, Ed was also fighting with one of the boys, trying to defend his older brother.

Soon the station guards analyze the fight and run towards it, separating the boys from each other and making the spectators run away.

"And be mature!!!" The guard yells, letting Peter and the other boys run away.

Y/n approaches Ed, handing him the bag and shaking her head.

The five walk to the platform where their train would pass, sitting on a bench, leaving their bags on the floor.

Edmundo sat next to Y/n, looking sideways at his older brother.

"No thanks..." Ed grumbles.

Y/n looks at her boyfriend and then at her brother-in-law. That was standing.

"I was winning"

"What was it this time?" Susan, who was sitting at the other end of the bench, asks looking at her brother.

"A bump..."

"And then you hit him?" Lucy had to be sarcastic, but she was too sweet for that.

"No. After the bump they asked to apologize, but clearly they were wrong and I didn't ask. Hence the fight."

"Super mature" Y/n says rolling her eyes, while Ed had her right hand in her lap and played with her fingers. Rotating the dating ring.

"Really? Wouldn't it be easier to walk away?" Susan asks.

"They were wrong. And I'm not a child." Peter says.

“But it seems like it” Y/n grumbles, as she kicked a pebble from the ground.

"But we are children!!" Ed responds to his brother.

Peter turns to him.

"I wasn't always." He pauses. "Seriously, we're back a year. How long does he want us to wait?" Peter refers to Aslan and then sits next to Lucy.

Y/n is a little uncomfortable when they bring up the subject, but doesn't say anything, just plays with Ed's hands too.

Edmund, in turn, looks sideways at his girlfriend, ready to change the subject as soon as he sees her becoming more uncomfortable.

"You have to accept that you live here. You don't have to pretend it's different" Susan looks at Peter.

Everyone remains silent, looking at the floor or the wall on the other side of the platform.

Susan looks back and quickly turns to her brother and sister-in-law.

"Go!! Quickly!! Pretend you're talking to me"

Edmund looks sarcastically at his older sister and smiles.

"But we are talking to you"

Susan rolls her eyes and Lucy quickly gets up from the bench.

"Ouch, someone pinched me!!"

"It wasn't me" Peter says. "OH, STOP PUSHING ME" He looks at Y/n, who was sitting on his right.

"But I didn't push- MY HAND EDMUND" Y/n stands up too.

"What happened?? I didn't do anything" soon Ed gets up too, as he had felt something push against his rib.

"What is happening?" Y/n asks as the train starts to pass quickly, a strong wind hits them and the platform tiles start to fall off the walls.

"It smells like magic!!"

"Quickly, join hands" Susan informs and the five hold hands.

Until suddenly, a light hits their eyes and the train station disappears, being replaced by a beautiful beach at the end of the cave they were in.

Still holding hands with her boyfriend, Y/n puts her hands over her eyes and starts walking until she is completely out of the cave and the sun hits her and the Pevensie brothers.

Susan and Peter look at each other, Lucy, Edmund and Y/n share another look. The five of them thinking exactly the same thing.

"The last one to reach the beach is a rotten egg" Susan shouts, starting to run towards the water.

Y/n laughs happily and gently pats her boyfriend's shoulder.

"It's with you, darling" she says smiling and runs too.

Edmund smiles and runs after his girlfriend, the rest going after the three who were now running towards the water on the beach.

Arriving in the water, they start playing with each other, laughing and having fun.

Edmund grabs Y/n from behind and they both throw themselves backwards, falling into the water and laughing.

"Calm down, let the air go back into my lungs again" Y/n stands up and wipes the water off her face, making the four Pevensie brothers laugh.

"Where are we?" Edmund looked at the columns.

"Where do you think?"

"It's just...I don't remember there being ruins in Narnia" Edmund says.

Y/n quickly turns around and looks towards the hills too, it looked like the place had been abandoned for years.

Centuries if you calculate.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

The brothers and Y/n climbed the hills and reached the ruins. Y/n looked closely at the remaining pillars, Peter looked at the ground and Ed observed everything.

Lucy was looking at the horizon with Susan.

"Who lived here?"

Susan bends down and picks up a gold chess piece from the floor.

"It was us" she says.

With that, Peter, Y/n and Edmund approach the girls, who were watching the horizon a few seconds ago.

Ed and Y/n arrive at the same time, making the girl lose her balance and Ed hold her back.

"Sorry" he laughs.

"It's okay, I stepped on something" she smiles at her boyfriend and then bends down to pick up something.

When the object was in hand, she sees a small sword. It was about 30 centimeters long and had something engraved on it.

"If you stepped further to the side, you could have stuck your foot" Ed says and Y/n turns the small sword around.

The other Pevensies were curiously observing the object as well.

"Whose would it be? It's too small to be ours" Y/n says, and analyzing the small sword better.

Edmund already knew who it was, which brought a few tears to his face.

"y/n..."

"What it was?" She turns to her boyfriend and Ed takes the small sword in his hand, turning it around and showing what he had engraved.

Y/n looks and her smile disappears from her face.

On the small sword was engraved the name of Liam Pevensie.

"Liam..." She says weakly, making the others approach them and see the sword. "It was his..." Now she smiles, without showing her teeth. A smile of longing and pain.

Susan walks over and puts her hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, he loved that" she says and Y/n looks at the older girl, now smiling and wiping away her tears.

"Yes" she laughs. "When Ed was home, he made them spend the afternoon fighting" she smiles even more at the memory.

Peter, who now had the small sword in his hands, smiles and hands it to Y/n.

Lucy also had tears in her eyes. She was very attached to her nephew.

"Here, please keep it" Y/n hands the sword to her boyfriend and he smiles, putting it in the bag he had.

Ed kisses Y/n's head and hugs her.

Y/n always thought that if she ever returned to Narnia, she would feel a sense of pain, abandonment and regret. But now, seeing her son's object, she felt warm, happy and strong. She didn't know how to explain it well, but it made her feel better.

Even though he's not here, waiting for his mom.

The five of them started walking again. Now knowing that they were in Cair Paravel, they were looking for something. Something that could answer some questions they didn't even know they had.

"There are catapults" Edmund says and everyone looks at him. "Cair Paravel was not abandoned, it was attacked"

They are silent. Peter looks to the side and sees a door, soon approaching it.

Ed helps his brother open it, however, it was too dark inside for everyone to enter. Thus making Peter tear off a piece of his shirt to make a torch.

"Ed, are there any matches in your bag?"

"Look...I don't think so, but I have this. Will it work?" Edmund takes a torch out of his bag and smiles at his brother.

Peter rolls his eyes laughing.

"You could have told me before"

They laugh.

With Peter leading the way with the torch, the rest of the people followed him into the room.

Going down the stairs, the girls could see that they had their statues with a chest in front.

Y/n smiles and walks down the rest of the stairs happily, with Edmund right behind her.

"I still can't believe it!! It's all here" Peter says and then everyone walks to their trunk.

Y/n and Ed walked together, as their statues were next to each other.

"I was so tall" Lucy says, everyone looking at her.

They smiled.

"It's just that you were older" Susan says and Lucy smiles.

"Different from now, centuries later and young" Edmund says and everyone laughs at him, because of the war armor he wore. Too huge for his age.

Y/n slowly opens the trunk, and the first thing she sees are her dresses and her sword, which Santa Claus had given her.

"Look, intact!!" She smiles, raising the sword and they smile.

Y/n happy, leaves the sword on the floor and starts searching more, thus coming face to face with a box full of letters.

"Oh, what is this?" She asks and everyone approaches.

"They are letters"

"I don't remember writing any letters in the months before we left here," she says, and takes one in her hand.

She turns the paper over and reads what was written. Thus, he almost choked when he read his son's name.

"It's a letter from Liam...from Liam to us..." she says more quietly now, turning to Ed.

Edmund looks startling, then moving closer to his girlfriend and encouraging her to open it.

Susan and Lucy, who were nearby, moved further away to let Y/n and Edmund read the letter, but she started to read it out loud.

Dear Parents.

Liam is the one writing here, I'm 10 years old and it's been 3 years since you disappeared. We don't know exactly why you disappeared like that out of nowhere, but I hope you're doing well and I can see you again someday. Whether here, or in Aslan's country.

Lilia is taking very good care of me, and Lord Tummnus protects me even more than before. Lilia is starting to teach me how to write letters. This isn't my first, as I love sending letters to the kitchen maids. I keep asking for cookies. But this is the first time I write to you. I had this idea yesterday, when I went out riding, I'm going to start writing letters so that one day you can read them and follow my growth, perhaps from afar. I miss you so much, I wish I was curled up in mommy's arms and playing fight with dad. Maybe someday, I can have that feeling of home again. Cair Paravel is so colorless, the days don't go by and the paperwork is piling up. Maybe I should take the crown, but I'm still afraid, I'll ask Lilia what to do.

I think that's it for today, I love you.

Ps: if you can, read this letter first. I don't know how many more I can write. With love, affection and longing,

Liam Pevensie.

After Y/n read it out loud, they could hear solutions in the room.

Everyone, without exception, was crying. Especially Y/n and Edmund, who were hugging each other while the girl read.

"There, My Aslan" Y/n cries, folding the letter again and putting it in the box, which had hundreds more of them. "Thank you for making our boy write these letters" She wipes her tears. "I miss him" she looks at the Pevensies. Lucy, Peter and Susan. They had tears in their eyes. "Not a day goes by in London that I don't think about him and Narnia. I know it's hard for everyone, but for me and Ed it's been terrible." She puts the box under her arm. "We haven't told you, but we've started joining a support group. Every two weeks we go. We always say we're going to the ice cream shop, but we're going to figure it out. Sorry for being such a pain in the ass and annoying sometimes." , it's been very difficult for me" With that, Y/n's tears return again and she starts to cry.

Edmund hugs her tighter.

Susan looks at the other two brothers and nods to go to them. Thus, making a group hug between them.

"We understand Y/n, and we're sorry for Liam" Peter says, as soon as they break away from the hug.

"Okay..." She smiles and Ed kisses the top of her head.

She already knew that Liam was already dead, centuries had passed since they left, there was no way their boy was alive. But what was comforting was that Liam had been a good boy and had written hundreds of books letters for them to read.

There was something in Liam's heart that told him to do this. And he obeyed.

"Can we go outside so you can read the rest of the letters together" Susan says, pointing at Ed and Y/n.

"Yes, true" Lucy says and Peter agrees with the girls.

Ed and Y/n exchange a look and look at the brothers.

"I was thinking... We can all read it together" Y/n says, a little uncertain about this.

Susan, Lucy and Peter smile friendly, without showing their teeth.

"If that's what you want, we'd love to hear

our nephew's adventures" Peter says and Y/n smiles, relieving all the tension that had been trapped in her for a year.

"Of course" Ed replies smiling.

The five kings and queens from the past sit in a circle and Y/n opens the box, making Ed take out the various cards.

"It says..." he reads on the back of the letter. "For Aunt Lucy" Edmund smiles at Lucy and the girl looks up.

"Oh...can I read it?" She says and Ed nods and hands over the letter.

Lucy reads out loud, making everyone pay attention.

Liam had also written letters to his other uncles, making them read them out loud too.

"Would Aslan accept me taking these letters with me?" Y/n whispers to Ed, while Peter read his letter out loud.

"If you ask nicely, he might consider it" Edmund jokes, making Y/n smile. "I love you. I love you and our boy."

"I love you. You and our boy too"

Author: My God, I loved this. I cried, but I loved😫

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #lovers #marriage #one shot #imagines edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie #chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #baby #mother #father

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realitybitesyouknowit · 4 months ago

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Chapters: 96/96 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Harry Potter, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Sirius Black/Stephen Strange Characters: Harry Potter, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Sirius Black, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes, Gwen Stacy (The Amazing Spider-Man), Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pietro Maximoff Additional Tags: Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Post-Avengers (2012), Parent Tony Stark, Abused Harry Potter, Family Shenanigans, Good Parent Tony Stark, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Protective Tony Stark, Sirius Black is a good godfather, Fluff, Angst and Feels, Slow Burn, Harry Potter is Tony Stark's Child, Peter Parker Played By Andrew Garfield, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Creator chose not to use archive warnings - Freeform, which is a warning in itself, Complete Summary:

With Voldemort back, Harry returned to the Dursley house, and Sirius imprisoned ‘living’ at Grimmauld Place, Sirius decides to go check on his godson.

And when he doesn��t like what he finds at Number Four Privet Drive, Sirius decides to do something else- tell Harry a fifteen year old secret and send him off the the United States to meet his biological father.

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bored-weather · 3 months ago

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watching sweet home with @soemthingsparkly and decided to have a quick browse of tumblr after seeing the priest and doctor interacting in ep 5 and i gotta say, im pretty disappointed in the lack of commentary about the i n s a n e homoerotically charged energy between that

i genuinely thought they were going to make out and possibly fade out while having sex on the table, and there is absolutely nothing on here as far as comments

for shame, tumblr. for shame

#sweet home #dr lim #father peter #honestly i expected fanfictions #fanart #some cosplays even #i guess i gotta start the discourse myself

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littlemissagrafina · 2 years ago

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Beautiful Boy

My gift for the absolutely darling @sdottkrames for this years @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Summary: Tony had stood his ground despite Peter's protests. "You and I both know that it's not easy for you to get sick, Bud, and that when you do, it hits you hard. You'll be down for the count for the next few days and I'm not having you push yourself and feel even worse just to stick to our schedule. We have the whole summer, Kid, let's get you better and then we can see about doing another trip but in a different area or whatever."

Read on AO3

Tony had leant over and ruffled Peter's hair in greeting, listening to his rambling intently as he pulled out onto the road. He would occasionally ask questions, somehow keeping track of each change of Peter's train of thought, but once they had mostly cleared the busy city streets, the rambling was mixed in with periods of comfortable silence as well as Tony's own brand of chatting through his own thoughts.

Tony had picked the teen up as soon as the last school bell had rung for the year. He had their bags packed and secured in the trunk, a takeout bag already waiting on the front seat when Peter had opened the passenger door.

It had set the theme comfortably for the rest of the road trip, easy conversation flowed as the highway (and the occasional gravel or dirt road) stretched out in front of them. They jumped from one topic to another, ranging from whatever site they were going to see to fun facts from the area they were in. Tony would have a fun memory of almost every stop they had made along their trip, recalling both the funny and downright stupid things that he and Rhodey had gotten up to on their own road trip years before.

Said memories were the entire reason for Tony and Peter's roadtrip, the teenager having let slip that he had never been on one when Tony and Rhodey had been reminiscing one weekend. Tony had the plan mapped out in his head before the weekend had been over and the next thing Peter had known, it was the beginning of summer and Tony had picked him up; the older hero all but bouncing in his eagerness to share all of the places he still remembered with fondness from his first road trip.

They had moved from one place to the next, sometimes staying in hotels but often laying down the seats with their sleeping bags spread out on, or even, on a few occasions, sleeping outside under the stars.

There was an almost terrifying amount of junk food, snacks, and diner food. An even bigger amount of souvenirs, pictures, and new memories to go along with it. Peter, Tony had found, had an almost alarming love for pebbles, the teenager finding the 'perfect one' at every stop and keeping them all in a pocket in his backpack.

(One or two had even made their way into Tony's pockets as little gifts and Tony made sure to keep track of every single one.)

They watched sunrises and sunsets from coastal cliffs, drove more inland and explored more forested areas, laughed at the tourist traps but still went along on every overpriced activity. Tony laughed until he got a stitch in his side when Peter had slipped off the log he was sitting on while they were roasting s'mores when a bug landed on his arm. Peter had retaliated by recording Tony while a beetle crawled up his arm, managing to capture the exact moment the man had realised it was there when it creeped up his cheek.

Peter took pictures of everything that caught his eye, whether it was the brilliant pinks and oranges of the sunrise over the waves, lightning arcing across the night sky, or the deserted ant heap he had found during a hike, the millions of tunnels visible from a piece that had broken away from the rest of the heap.

They took selfies too. Some with backdrops at tourist stops and something with trees or beaches in the background. A few featured them in the diners that they had eaten at.

Tony's favourite was one they had taken at an old retro style diner, the neon lights glowing in the background and milkshakes sitting in front of them. Tony's had been a double chocolate one piled high with whipped cream and melted chocolate drizzled on top and Peter's (to Tony's horror) was a blueberry cheesecake monstrosity that had been mixed with so much blue food dye it had stained Peter's tongue blue for two days afterwards.

With a blue stained grin and whipped cream at the edges of his goatee, it was Tony's favourite selfie of them during the whole trip and if it was set as his background before they had left the diner, well, only Pepper and Rhodey would ever know.

They had reached the last leg of their trip before returning home when Peter woke up with a scratchy throat and slightly stuffy nose. Both Tony and he had attributed it to the overload of sugar they had been eating and cut it down to more savory and healthier foods, but when he'd woken the following day with fully blocked nose, achy head, and even more scratchy throat, Tony had put a pause on the trip and immediately turned them towards the main roads that would take them home the fastest.

Tony had stood his ground despite Peter's protests. "You and I both know that it's not easy for you to get sick, Bud, and that when you do, it hits you hard. You'll be down for the count for the next few days and I'm not having you push yourself and feel even worse just to stick to our schedule. We have the whole summer, Kid, let's get you better and then we can see about doing another trip but in a different area or whatever."

Peter still tried to protest every now and again, the guilt obvious in his expression, so when Tony pulled over at a gas station to grab a few things and fill the tank, he made it his mission to fix things. He angled himself in his seat until he was facing Peter and leant his arm on the center console between them.

"Okay, three things, Bud. You're gonna listen and you're gonna take them in because they're true and I mean it." He raised a brow, waiting for Peter to nod before continuing. "Number one – we've had a pretty awesome time where we have gone so far, and that counts for something, right?" Tony clapped his hands together "It does. Number two – your health takes priority, Peter." He held up a hand when Peter frowned and went to speak. "And no, it doesn't matter that you're Spider-Man, you and I both know that your enhancements don't stop you from getting sick and that your healing factor just makes it worse because it speeds it up. Cho even proved it when we were developing all the medications you might need."

Tony leaned forward and smoothed his hand over Peter's messy curls, letting his hand rest on the pack of Peter's neck. He winced at the slight warmth radiating from his skin. "And number three. We can do this again, Roo. There's going to be more summers, more school breaks, even when you're off being a big shot at college we can find things to do. You're my kid, Peter, and I love spending time with you. Just because this trip is over a little bit sooner, doesn't mean we'll never do something fun again. Hell, next time we can make it a whole big family event and bring along Pepper, May, Rhodey, and Happy."

"You get it? I love you Pete, and this has been so, so much fun. What I need to do now is make sure my kid feels better because I hate seeing anyone I care about be hurt or sick, least of all you. Can you let me do that?"

Peter exhaled, his shoulders drooping as he relaxed back into the seat. "Yeah. I see. I'm sorry I freak out over everything." He frowned at himself and Tony poked him in the side, amusement curling when Peter squirmed away from it.

"No apologising for things you can't control. Brains are annoying asses when they make us overthink beyond what's needed. Now sit tight, I'll be back in a bit, I'm just grabbing a few things to help you feel better and when I'm back, you're not going to feel guilty because everything is fine. I'm not against using tickles as punishments." With that, Tony hopped out of the car and jogged over to the gas station's store.

He was quick, grabbing an extra box of tissues and a few throat lozenges in the berry flavours that Peter liked along with a few more snacks and drinks. He made sure to keep the sugar loaded and unhealthy foods to a minimum, instead finding some fresh sandwiches and crackers in the mini bakery section the rest stop had. He loaded in a couple bottles of juices too, but nothing that had mango or cranberry knowing that Peter hated those fruits.

Tony paid and was back at the car within ten minutes and, after filling the tank, they were back on the road. He looked over every so often, making sure that Peter was eating his sandwich and sipping at the juice, ignoring the huffs each time he checked again. It wasn't hovering, it was caution no matter what Rhodey liked to say.

Eventually Tony grabbed his own sandwich, taking bites between watching the road and Peter. He had Friday on as backup in all his cars but he was careful in any case.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked softly after Peter had stuffed their trash into the plastic bag that had become their designated trash and tissue bag.

Peter sniffed, shifting around in his seat. He grabbed his pillow and propped it up against the door and window before resting his head on it. He sat slightly skew in his seat but Tony was glad to see he was still buckled in and in a position that wouldn't be bad if something were to happen.

But even then, Tony had made sure to put extra protection measures in both the physical and technological structure of his cars so he wasn't too concerned.

"I'm feeling a bit worse." Peter answered once he had settled, voice stuffy from his blocked nose. "I feel achy." He grumbled.

Tony felt a mixture of amused sympathy. Peter got adorably grumpy when he was sick and it often led to puppy-like pouts and grumbling over being sick in general. But at the same time, as much as sick Peter was endearing and funny, he was still sick, and Tony hated it. It unsettled him in a way that nothing else quite could. Then again, anything involving Peter being injured or unwell had a tendency to do that, so Tony was learning to go with the flow.

Tony smiled in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Roo. I have some of your special painkillers in the glove compartment, but no actual flu or cold medicines that will help against your metabolism." Reaching over briefly, Tony pressed a hand to Peter's forehead. "You feel warmer than usual but nothing fever grade yet. Do you think you can try and sleep? It'll help give your body some strength and energy to fight it off."

Peter hummed, pressing against his hand for a moment before Tony pulled it back to the steering wheel. He settled back into his pillow and nodded slowly. "Hmm. I can try. I am pretty tired." He murmured in answer.

"Okay. Do you want the radio on quietly? Or one of your playlists?"

Peter hummed again. "One of yours? The soft rock one?" He blinked at Tony, completely unaware of the soft childlike expression on his face as he asked.

As if Tony would ever deny him anything.

"Of course, Bud."

Tony turned the radio on and asked Friday to queue the requested playlist, the opening chords to Blackbird crooning softly from the speakers as he turned his focus back to the road in front of them.

The songs switched over in the background, the playlist playing over in the background, and when Tony looked over again, Peter was fast asleep. He had turned his head into his pillow, his curls squished in all directions and his mouth parted as he snored gently.

The song switched, soft drums and guitar strings echoing through the car, the familiar voice of John Lennon accompanying it. Tony hummed to the tune, mumbling along to the lyrics under his breath.

"Close your eyes, have no fear."

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #fanfiction #road trip #fluff #sick peter parker #even spidey kids get the flu #father son bonding #iron man #spiderman #mcu #irondad and spiderson

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imyourbratzdoll · 6 months ago

Note

Can I ask for father peter dating Hc it up to you if you want to make is spicy or fluff👉👈(my hand is shaking right now)

hi baby, I’m so sorry for taking forever to get to this:( you don’t gotta be nervous when asking me anything honey💗

warning - mentions of sex.

the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips

Dating Father Peter was definitely different to what you would’ve thought— he had two sides of him.

Sometimes you’d get the sweet boyfriend, where he’d bring you food or some warmer clothes. Holding you against him as you curled into his body. He’d pick flowers for you, hold your hand in front of others.

Other times he would be rough, become more dominant and closed—off. You’d find yourself pushed up against a wall in a secluded area, his hand up your dress, whispering in your ear how much of a dirty girl you were. You’d sometimes find yourself under him in your bed, taking him as he fucked into you.

He’d hold you tightly against him in public, gripping your hips so tight you’d gain marks, but you didn’t mind.

He’d make sure everyone knew you were his and he was yours.

Dating him was like a rollercoaster, you never knew what to expect or how you’ll react. But that wasn’t a bad thing cause he still treated you right.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #anon reply #imyourbratzdollwork #father peter #father peter headcanon #father peter fanfiction #father peter fanfic #father peter fic #father peter fandom #father peter sweet home #father peter imagines #father peter fluff #father peter imagine #father peter oneshot #father peter one shot #father peter angst #father peter x fem!reader #father peter x female reader

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bitletsanddrabbles · 2 years ago

Text

The Gift Reflects the Giver

Since I did Valentine’s Day fiction last Christmas for @alex51324 ‘s Island of the Gays, I decided I should do Christmas for Valentine’s Day. Got an idea all thought up...made a false start...or two...and then burned out on writing for ages.

It being Christmas time again and me being stuck at home for the day (It’s raining! IT’S RAINING! Go little rain drops! Melt that ice!) I decided it was a good time to write it.

This probably won’t actually go up on Ao3 for Christmas...at least not the first day. Might get it up before the 12th, we’ll see. I need to read back over the Island and see if I can’t get Mr. Braceridge sounding more...well...himself. Turns out it’s kinda hard to write from his PoV and still have him sound right. But for now, Merry Christmas, everyone.

John looked around the cottage’s parlour, frowning. The place looked as festive as one could ask, but there was something missing. Much of the village had gone out gathering greens for decorating. Timothy had been kept at home by his rheumatism, John had eagerly lead the party, pointing out which plants had weak branches that could be sacrificed for the cause, which were too young and should be left alone, and which plants - namely ivy - were invasive weeds that didn’t belong but which somehow kept making their way to the island and could be ruthlessly harvested for the season. Berries had been added to the collection and strung on strings for garlands. John and Timothy had gotten their fair share of these and they were now strewn artistically around the room. An empty bird’s nest from the barn perched on a particularly sturdy set of boughs, for luck.

Timothy had proclaimed it perfect, but there was something missing…

“We need a tree.”

Timothy looked up from where he was working on notes for the coming Sunday’s sermon. “We do not need a tree, John.”

John turned his frown on his husband. “But it’s tradition! Surely you want one.”

“I’m happy with the room the way it is,” Timothy informed him, setting down his pen. “Besides, if we get a tree, other couples will want one too. We can’t afford to chop down that many, especially the conifers. Alders, perhaps, but alders don’t make very good Christmas trees, even if you could find one that would fit in here.”

“If you say so,” John muttered, turning back to his examination of the room.

“I do.”

John let the subject drop, but despite the other man’s assurances, he couldn’t bring himself to believe his husband wouldn’t be happier with a tree. He looked at the time and shook his head. “Ah well, time for me to get started on the stew, I suppose.”

Timothy had gone back to his sermon notes. Without looking up he said, “It’s raining cats and dogs outside, so cook it in here or you’ll catch your death.”

“Yes, dear.”

The tobacconists shop had a shipment of mistletoe shipped over from the mainland, since unlike the ivy it hadn’t made its way over. Fitzroy had also gotten in a selection of Christmas cards and ornaments, which other island residents had purchased for hanging off the greens they’d gathered. After a boat shipment had brought over a collection of ornaments from Brancaster castle, specially requested from Lord Hexham from some cousin he had on the mainland, John could stand it no longer.

If the Marquess was surprised to find the former scout master on his doorstep, he hid it well, simply inviting the other man in and offering him a cup of tea.

“I wouldn’t say no,” John replied, taking in the interior of the other man’s cottage. It was certainly well turned out, and far more glamorous than his own home, although John privately thought he preferred the strings of berries to the glittering gold and silver of Lord Hexham’s ornaments. At the other man’s gesture he took a seat in what proved to be a very comfortable wingback chair as Lord Hexham placed the order for tea with his butler. John didn’t think a cottage this size really needed a butler, but it did, he suppose, provide employment for at least one of the villages residents.

“Right then,” the Marquess settled himself in another chair, which was a completely different design than the one John occupied, but no less elegant. “What can I do for you, Mr. Braceridge?”

“Well, it’s like this,” John explained, frowning, trying to gage the best approach to his request. “I think Timothy would like a Christmas tree. I know,” he added hastily, “we’ve never had one before. Everyone’s said that, including Timothy.” He had, by this point, broached the subject with several other members of the community and run up against just that protest. “But I can’t help feeling that he’d be happier if he did.”

“Alright,” the other man replied, frowning slightly. “Er, has he said he’d like a tree?”

“He hasn’t, but that’s because there are so many reasons not to get one. Lack of room in the cottage, lack of proper trees…they’re all good points, but the don’t mean he wouldn’t like a tree.”

Lord Hexham didn’t look overly convinced, but he didn’t interrupt.

“But I’ve been thinking and there’s that spruce just off the cricket pitch, between it and the church, that’s not too large -”

Here Lord Hexham did cut him off. “I say, old thing, I’m not overly familiar with Father Timothy, and I’d certainly not imply that you don’t know your own husband better than I do, but I can’t see him smiling on the idea of cutting down a village land mark like that. More to the point, I can’t see anyone else smiling on the idea either.”

“Oh, no, of course not!” John hurried to assure him. The thought honestly hadn’t crossed his mind. He wasn’t certain whether Timothy would disown him, skin him like a hare, or simply write a year’s worth of very cross sermons, but none of them bore thinking about. “No, I had something else in mind completely. Still, I’d like it to be a surprise, and so I’d need help pulling it off…”

John was up and out of bed early enough on Christmas morning to have the tea brewed before he heard Timothy stir. He quickly poured a cup, added the cream, and made his way into the bedroom where his husband was just blinking awake.

“Heavens, you’re up early,” the other man noted in a groggy sort of manner, propping himself up on the pillows and reaching for the offered beverage. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” John explained, trying to make it sound off handed, as if he’d simply suffered from a bit of insomnia rather than being too excited to lie still any longer. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Timothy smiled at him over the rim of his cup. “Did you make breakfast too?”

John shook his head. They normally made breakfast together for Christmas, instead of the meal being made by whoever was up first, and he wasn’t about to break that tradition. Then he admitted, “No, but I did get the eggs laid out and the pan ready and sliced the bacon, so that’s ready to go.”

Timothy gave a little laugh of surprise. “Gracious, and here I am lounging around in bed! I should get up so we can get started on the cooking.”

“No, no, you have a lie in,” John protested. “It’s Christmas and you’ve been busy. I’ll just get myself a cup and come sit with you.” Before his husband could reply, he ducked back out and went to pour himself a cuppa’. While he was in the kitchen, he sporadically checked the weather again. Not that it would hurt if it was raining - and would be quite picturesque if it was snowing - but he was quite pleased to discover it was still dry, if overcast. That would allow for good visibility. Armed with his tea and a triumphant smile, he headed back into the bedroom. “Weather’s looking good for caroling later,” he announced, settling himself on his side of the bed. Caroling was one of Timothy’s annual projects, although since most of the village came along the actual door-to-door part was rather short. It ended with everyone in the parish hall having a general sing along and good time.

“Good,” Timothy sighed. “Not that I mind the snow, but it will be nice not to have my rheumatism acting up. And rain just isn’t very festive.”

“Not very, no.” The two of them drank their tea in companionable silence. John thought he did a very good job of acting natural through the whole thing, as if he wasn’t dying to suggest that Tim get up and dressed and they go make breakfast and that Tim look out the window…

Finally, after what seemed twice as long as normal, Timothy set his cup aside with a sigh. “That was a wonderful start to the day,” he smiled up at his husband, “thank you, dear.” With a stretch, he pushed back the covers and swung himself out of bed.

“It was no problem,” John assured him. “None at all. Christmas deserves something a little bit special, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

John waited as patiently as he was able for his husband to get up and dressed, which wasn’t very patiently at all. In fact, he left after a couple of minutes to putter around in the kitchen and check out the window. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed like the overcast had lifted a little, making the world lighter and the scenery more visible. He smiled, then stoked the stove, got the lard ready, and pulled out the remaining kitchen utensils.

Timothy walked into the kitchen to find everything ready and waiting. He gave his husband a puzzled smile. “Are you particularly hungry today, dear?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” John smiled. “More that I’m invigorated. Ready for the Christmas festivities to begin.”

Still looking bemused, Timothy went over and looked out the window, clearly checking the weather.

John held his breath.

The other man blinked once. Twice. Then, without turning from the window, asked, “John?”

“Mm?”

“Are there berry strings on the spruce?”

Slowly, careful not to rush or betray any signs of excitement, John slid over to the window.

“And, are those ornaments?”

Unable to contain his excitement anymore, John grinned from ear to ear and slipped an arm around his husband’s waist. “Merry Christmas.”

Timothy laughed, shaking his head. “How did you manage it? You were inside all night, I know. It’s cold enough I’d have felt if you got up.”

It was true, the one down side of the whole project had been that he hadn’t been able to help decorate. That would be fixed next year. “I was, yes. It was supposed to be a surprise, after all! I asked Lord Hexham, as one of our foremost citizens, if he’d take control of the organizing the thing. He got some of the lads, not sure which ones, to slip out with lanterns after we’d turned in last night, and dress it up.”

“So that’s why you were in such a hurry to get to bed!”

“I was thinking we could make it an annual tradition,” John continued. He could see future trees in his minds eye as he spoke. “Since there aren’t enough trees for everyone to have their own, I thought we could have a community tree. Lord Hexham has already donated some ornaments, along with a few other people, but I thought we could have everyone donate something each year. Maybe have Bill Thorn teach people how to carve their own. That way it would really be our tree. What do you think?”

By now Timothy had turned and was watching him with a warm, if perhaps slightly exasperated, smile. He glanced back out at the tree and said, “I think it’s a lovely idea. And I’m glad I could give you an excuse to get your Christmas tree.” He leaned over and kissed his husband’s cheek. “Now, let’s get started on breakfast.”

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #fanfiction of fanfiction #island of the gays #original character x original character #mr. braceridge x father timothy #mr. braceridge #father timothy #christmas gifts #christmas traditions #peter pelham #lord hexham #christmas trees

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celestialseawitch-ff · 2 years ago

Text

Finding Home: Chapter Four

🌟 New Chapter! 🌟

Rating: T - mild swearing Ship: Gen Summary: "Peter felt like he was going to throw up. This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea. He looked up at the massive glass building before him. Stark Industries. His fingers curled around the straps of his knapsack. The weight of the knowledge contained in his backpack was insurmountable."

// Peter applies to join the Stark Industries Young Minds Program, knowing that doing so will reveal his true parentage, something he was still trying to come to grips with himself. Links: Ao3

#celestialseawitch #hanukkah 2022 #hanukkahweekofposts #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #Peter Parker #Tony Stark #Tony Stark is Peter Parker's biological father #Genius Peter Parker #Peter Parker is a genius #Marvel comics #AU #Irondad #Spiderson #spider son #iron dad #irondad and spiderson

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undercoverbastard · 2 years ago

Text

Yea... I know

Everyone wordlessly glanced between one another. Derek was the only one to hold his gaze on Stiles. Not once had the boy seemed upset or fearful. He was confused when Peter first came in, anxious when they were trekking through the woods, but never upset or fearful. And Derek was hopeful that was a good sign.

“Us, my family, we’re…” Talia began, shifting a bit nervously. An introduction to the idea of werewolves never came out like this, it wasn’t shared in such a rushed fashion - even she, as alpha, was grappling a bit on how to best proceed.

“We’re werewolves,” Derek quietly finished once he realized his mother was a bit lost on how to direct the conversation.

OR: a fic that kinda got dragged out in some aspects, has no real plot points, features a semi-sorta magic!Stiles, a semi-off-brand Soulmate Thing going on, and mostly just gentle feels bc I thought we all deserved a reprieve from Depression Fests

Archive of Our Own Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42346869

“Settle down, settle down,” came the tired voice.

Derek leaned back into his seat, spreading his legs and getting as comfortable as one could in a school desk. It was his last period of the day and he was itching for it to be over. He wanted to get home and just run.

It had been one of those days. One of those days where he constantly felt on edge. One of those days where he felt like he struggled to keep his wolf at the back of his mind, constantly feeling it claw at his skin, begging to just give in and let go.

So all he could think of as Ms. Adams tiredly went through roll call was how he planned on getting home and running until the moon was high in the sky and his lungs were on the verge of collapsing. A promising afternoon, if you asked Derek.

“Alright, now that that’s out the way, let’s get down to business,” Ms. Adams said coolly, moving to sit on the edge of her desk and face her class.

“I’m sure some of you may have been warned by my other periods but I’m going to lay it all out so there’s no question. For the next three weeks, you all will be working on a partner project,” she began. And already, several people were groaning. Others seemed quite pleased at the prospect of working with friends or splitting their work, but the overall reactions were split.

“Oh come on! You all are in AP Art History! None of you had to be here and all of you knew that meant going the extra mile - I don’t want any complaints.” Ms. Adams's retort came with narrowed eyes and a sharpened tone at the end. Which, fair, AP Art History was a class only taken by those who enjoyed art, needed to bulk their GPA for college, or were in desperate need to fill their schedules (usually settling on regular art or trying to TA for a teacher was the first choice, but when those options ran thin students sought out the easiest class with the nicest teacher - enter Ms. Adams who somehow scrounged together enough students for three periods of AP Art History!).

While some students mumbled and chatted amongst themselves, Derek frowned quietly to himself and tried to focus on what his teacher said, mentally taking note of things she said and wrote on the board in between.

Overall, the assignment didn’t sound hard. The museum downtown was having an exhibit on display for the next couple of weeks centering around historic art forms which displayed a variety of different art - paintings, drawings, sculptures, 3D models - all of which talked about the beginning of art expression and how it evolved. Each major evolution offered insight into some of the most notable artists while in between those there were examples of smaller incremental developments.

Art was subjective, and as it grew, it becomes more difficult to chart a singular growth pattern. But this exhibit focused on the overall widespread evolution of artistic expression - an ideal topic for Art History. So when the exhibit happened to make a stop at Beacon Hills’ own museum for a short time, Ms. Adams couldn’t not take advantage of the opportunity.

“Okay! Simple enough, right? Nothing too terrible! And the only reason this is a three-week project is because one, that’s how long the exhibit will be here. Two, the majority of this project will have to be done outside of class for obvious reasons,” their teacher continued, “Now, here’s the part you all may hate me for - I’ll be assigning your partners.”

This properly upset the entire class, a chorus of groans and quiet pleas could be heard, all of which fell on deaf ears, of course.

“Alright, please listen for your names to be called. I will allow the rest of the period today for you all to get to know your partner, figure out a schedule of when will be best to meet, and look up the exhibit so you can get an idea of how you’d like to approach your projects!”

Derek had zoned out at this. He wasn’t all that concerned. While he had to work with someone else, they could more than likely visit the exhibit once or twice over the weekend and then figure out time after class a few days over the next couple of weeks. He was already planning out how to minimize time with whoever he was stuck with when his attention snapped back to the front.

“Thatcher and Brown… Cromwell and Langley… Hale and Stilinski…”

At this, Derek’s eyes snapped up, widening slightly. Oh god, anyone but-

“Hey, partner!” Stiles grinned, already sliding into the vacant seat next to Derek - which, huh, when did the girl next to him even move?

“Uh… hi,” Derek responded, giving a stiff nod. He could’ve dealt with anyone else. Anyone else but Stiles. The boy next to him had plagued him since the start of high school and Derek had made it his life’s mission to avoid the boy at all turns.

At first, he assumed it was just a little crush, an attraction to the pale boy with too long of limbs, too soft of lips, and beauty marks for days. But then the smell - dear god, the boy’s smell was intoxicating.

Derek had to avoid the boy to make sure he didn’t lose control. And the worst part was Derek didn’t even know why! Sure, the boy was cute, but this level of attraction was uncalled for. Thus, avoidance. Because why face your problems when you can hide from them in the locker room?

“Uh… so,” Stiles said, clearing his throat and breaking the silence which- shit, it had been quiet for too long hadn’t it? Fuck, Derek thought, already off to a bad start. “I have lacrosse practice Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. And I know basketball usually does Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, right?”

Shit, Derek closed his eyes, so after school in the library was already off the table.

“So I was thinking we could just meet up after practice one day and then hit up the museum this weekend? I don’t have any games this weekend and I don’t remember seeing any on the calendar for basketball…” Stiles began mumbling, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Uh, no… no games this weekend for me either,” Derek confirmed, his eyes now glued to the table in front of him. Maybe if he avoided Stiles’ eyes he could maintain his control… maybe.

“Great! So uh… how about Friday? We can meet up after my practice on Friday since we can go a bit later and not worry about, ya know, homework and… uh, school. And then meet up Saturday for the museum!” Stiles offered, offering Derek a small grin. He looked so eager to get Derek’s approval and even though Derek could smell the hesitancy rolling off the boy in waves, he couldn’t help but melt just a bit at his eagerness.

“Yea, yea, that sounds good,” Derek nodded. Dear lord, this is going to be a disaster…

+ . + . +

The rest of the week flew by. AP Art History continued as normal, a couple of days were split to allow for students to pair off and work out plans, project outlines, and so on, but it all seemed low-level and passed in a blur.

So when Stiles didn’t move after the last bell rang, eyebrows raised in question, Derek was at a loss. He wasn’t sure what the boy asked and was stumped by what was going on. Which must have shown.

“Your.. address? So I can come by later?” Stiles asked, a bit hesitantly. “I would offer to do it at my place but my dad’s off work tonight and he’s got this case and… yea, he hasn’t looked away from it in three days, the dining table is covered, and it’s just kind of crazy. We’d either get our heads bit off for making too much noise or we’d get no work done because my old man would try to distract himself by asking about the project and just… yea, it’d be easier to not do it at my place,” Stiles rambled, his hands splaying out and moving a bit frantically as he tried to explain himself.

Derek frowned slightly, not too keen on having Stiles at his house. His parents were already fairly hesitant about people coming over at times but Derek also couldn’t deny the bright-eyed boy next to him. Not only did it sound like his house was hectic as fuck currently but it was also the least Derek could offer after Stiles had spearheaded their entire project, laying everything out to the point all Derek had to do was get a few decent pictures and fill in the blanks.

Derek hadn’t purposefully neglected his share of the planning, but Stiles was so energetic and excited by his own ideas and Derek was never good at interjecting… or talking… in general.

“Oh, uh, yea! No, yea, that’s… fine,” Derek stammered, nodding as he grabbed a pen. “Here, this is my address.” With that, Derek quickly scribbled out his address on a blank Post-It he had inside his notebook, passing it off to Stiles.

“Awesome! So uh, 7? That okay? Practice ends at 5:30, I should shower after so you don’t have to deal with all… that! And then some cushion for drive time?” Stiles asked, a bright smile taking up his face as he confirmed.

Derek barely got a nod out before Stiles was scrambling out of his desk, giving a hurried excuse of practice and a rushed farewell before he was racing out of the classroom. And all Derek could do was sigh and tip his head back, staring at the ceiling for a minute. This project might just kill him.

+.+.+

Derek was sitting at the dining table, flicking through the outline for their project, a gallery of photos featuring the art exhibit on his laptop next to him. He was trying to plan out which pieces he wanted to get photos of and making notes of what pieces and artists they should look up later.

While Derek’s mom wasn’t too pleased with the idea of someone essentially unknown coming into their home, she gave into her motherly side after hearing about Stiles’ dad. She assured Derek it was fine and made her son promise to have him and his friend join them for dinner before working on their project.

Just before 7 o’clock, Derek could hear the tell-tale sound of crunching gravel and the grumble of a slightly too old engine approaching the house. Within a few minutes, a knock was ringing out and Derek was opening the door to see a still dripping, flushed Stiles - crooked grin widespread on his face.

“Hey, man! Sorry, it took so long, I tried to rush through a shower but Coach decided we didn’t suffer enough today and made us run suicides before leaving,” Stiles apologized, his fingers carding through his hair to try and push it into place and ring out some of the excess water. “He also had us do a ‘Bonding Excerisze’ and we had to compliment each other while doing suicides which… was harder than the suicides. Seriously, who has anything good to say about Jackson?”

Stiles grimaced and shook his head, stepping inside while he rambled. Derek couldn’t help but let his lips quirk up at the mention of Jackson. He was a piece of work, Derek couldn’t argue with that.

“It’s fine,” Derek assured, closing the door and leading Stiles inside, “And uh, I hope you don’t mind, but my mom said she wanted you to join us for dinner before we got to work.” Derek blushed ever so slightly at this, ducking his head. Stiles simply smiled and nodded his assent. “Yeah, dude, that sounds great! I can always eat.”

With that, the two boys went into the dining room, joining the rest of the Hale family as they bustled around. Derek put away his work for the time being, grabbing plates to set the table with Cora.

Soon, dinner was in full swing, Stiles seemingly melding into the chaos seamlessly. Cora and Laura had teased him about his shirt and memories of stunts in school, their dad had asked him about school and his classes, and their mom insisted on him having seconds - it was all easy and comfortable, Stiles’ laughter mixing with Derek’s family’s laughter and the conversation seemingly constant and easy going. Derek stayed mostly quiet, trying to remind himself not to lean in too close, or stare too long, forcing away his desires to just stare and gape and simmer in all that was Stiles.

Almost too soon, the activities ended, Talia - Derek’s mom - and Jonathan - Derek’s dad - were grabbing leftovers and clearing the table. “Oh, I can help with the dishes! It’s only fair since you cooked and dealt with me all night,” Stiles quickly offered, moving to stand and reach out to take the dishes from Talia, a small smile on his lips.

“You really don’t have to-” Derek quickly interjected, but Stiles waved him away.

“Nah, really, I don’t mind! I wasn’t raised by wolves, it’s the least I can do and my dad would kill me if he knew I didn’t lend a hand,” Stiles joked, moving to take the dishes to the sink. Everyone seemed to minutely freeze at his comment, eyes darting around, before awkwardly pressing forward.

However quick the pause was, it was still noticeable. An air of nerves and embarrassment came rolling off Stiles as he spluttered momentarily. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, that was rude- I was just-” Stiles stuttered out, a blush rising to his cheeks and down his neck.

Talia quickly waved it off, shaking her head. “No, no - you’re just being polite, sweetheart. And it’s appreciated. You can go ahead and rinse those off and just put them in the dishwasher,” she soothed him, smiling reassuringly. Derek couldn’t help but soften at the interaction, enjoying the compassion and love his alpha was showing Stiles. Talia’s hand gently cupped Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles’ smile seemed to be one of shock and appreciation, his eyes darting to the hand on his shoulder almost fondly.

It was almost too much for Derek.

But of course, all good things must come to an end. And in Derek’s case, they came to a horrifyingly abrupt, painful end.

It was within a split second that the easy, playful conversation between his family and Stiles that everyone seemed to tense, senses on edge. Derek had been so wrapped up in the moment that he almost didn’t understand why the room was suddenly filled with a sense of dread, that is until he caught a whiff of his uncle. And then sight of him.

Peter Hale came barreling into the house through the back door, eyes shining gold, fangs out, claws out, and reeking of desperation and fear. Before Talia or anyone else could start to question him or harp him for coming into the house in such a state, his words were rushed out.

“It- It’s Luna, we can’t find her! We went for a run before coming back and-” Peter started, a frenzied look taking over his face. At this, everyone seemed to launch into motion.

“Where did you last see her?” Talia asked, abandoning the leftovers on the counter and already moving to step outside. Peter began explaining where they last were in the preserve before he lost sight of his daughter. Derek and the others were so caught up in the commotion and the dread of a pack member being in trouble that no one spared a second thought to Stiles who stood a bit shocked at the sink, unsure what to do.

Without another thought, Talia and Peter took off into the woods. Jonathan turned to his children, pausing for a moment before launching into directives. “Laura, go check the creek - if she fell in it could be why Peter had so much trouble finding her scent. Cora, check the end of the drive and the tree line, if Luna did get lost she would probably try to find her way out of the woods first. And Derek-” Jonathan paused, eyes bugging out slightly as he caught sight of Stiles, the gangly boy hesitantly stepping through the back door and peering at the gathered family.

“Derek, keep an eye on Stiles until your mother gets back,” Jonathan finished a bit wearily. The realization of what just hit all four of the Hales, all of their eyes snapping to Stiles instantly.

With nods and murmurs of acknowledgment, they all parted. Derek turned to Stiles, hesitant and unsure of what to say. His apprehension for the boy became 10x more intense, afraid of what the boy would say or do. To his surprise, Stiles was the first to speak - and it wasn’t at all what he thought he’d open with.

“Luna? Is that... Is that your uh, cousin or something? Should we help them?” Stiles asked hesitantly, his eyes darting around to look around the treeline, assessing the situation.

Derek looked at the boy in front of him a bit dumbly, unsure how to respond.

“Did anyone go to the cover near your driveway? I know your dad mentioned a creek, but I remember there being a couple of coves in the hill where your driveway is - there’s a small creek thing there. It would be the perfect place for someone to hide, or get swept up in,” he continued, nodding towards one end of the tree line.

All Derek could do was slowly nod, jerking his head to the side to lead Stiles to the exact place he was talking about.

In a bit of desperation to find his cousin mixed with a continuous thrum of anxiety about Stiles’ reaction, Derek darted off towards the rocky hillside with the covers. Stiles was barely keeping up, stumbling a bit as they ran over tree roots and fallen branches.

When they approached the beginning of the small creek feeding into the mouth of the first cover, Derek slowed, lifting his nose to scent the air. But it was so muddled. He could smell faint traces of all his pack members throughout the woods, he could smell the numerous scents of the animals that passed through the creek and had at one point made the coves their own home. He could smell Luna but it was so muddled and muted he couldn’t tell if it was new or fading.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Derek put a hand up, hearing a whine and a sniffle. “Wait... I think I hear Luna,” Derek mumbled. The two boys inched closer to the cove, peering in, but they saw nothing. Derek slightly deflated, but then there was another whine, a broken cry.

Moving deeper into the carved-out cove of rock, Derek tried to hone in on the sound. The rush of water around his feet and the echoing of sounds in the space made it difficult, but he realized the sound was coming from a back corner of the space, hidden behind clusters of rocks. “Luna,” Derek tentatively called.

“Der… Derek,” came a quiet, pitiful response. Luna’s voice sounded tight, her voice thin and quiet as if she was physically unable to speak any louder without falling apart. Derek darted down, kneeling in front of a small opening at the base of two rocks that leaned against the side of the cover. The rocks seemed as if they had previously been a part of the top of the cover, having fallen and covered a small hollowed-out section in the back of the cove.

Derek tried to squeeze in, his arms getting caught and refusing movement past a foot. He groaned, determined to make himself collapse into the space to get to his cousin.

“Derek, let me,” Stiles soothed, pulling gently at the larger boy’s shoulder. Derek pulled back, eyeing Stiles wearily before nodding slowly, moving away to let him in. Stiles, in all his sharp-angled, narrow-shaped glory, slid himself into the opening, shimmying his legs and hips as he squirmed half on his left arm and with his hip as he disappeared out of sight.

Derek strained to listen, making sure they both weren’t stuck now.

“Hi, Luna. I’m Stiles. Are you stuck?”

“...ye-yes. I was chasing a- A-” the small voice quivered, on the verge of breaking apart once more.

“Hey, hey. That’s not important now. Just tell me where you’re caught,” Stiles said softly. Derek leaned into the hole, wanting desperately to get closer, to help. His nerves were off the chart knowing not only Luna was in pain and stuck but that Stiles could also now be hurt and or stuck.

“My leg. I slipped on the water. There was another hole but when I slipped I got caught and the rock was too heavy to move and I couldn't-” Luna broke off once more, a sob spilling from her lips.

“We’ll get you out in no time!” Stiles assured gently.

Derek pressed into the opening, trying to catch sight of either Stiles or Luna, but only catching glimpses of Stiles' feet, still sideways as he laid on his side in the opening. He finally backed up, trying to allow Stiles room to move if needed, but kept his eyes as tuned in as possible to the two just a few feet away.

Several minutes passed, soft cries from Luna and the shifting of rock, and gentle reassurances from Stiles were the only sounds Derek could hear. Soon after the sliding and grinding of rock was heard, Derek watched Stiles wiggle his legs back out of the entrance. Derek grabbed at his leg, gently pulling it and helping guide him out.

When Stiles appeared again, he had a small girl wrapped around his torso tightly. Luna had his arms clung around the boy’s neck, her head tucked tightly under his chin, her one leg wrapped around Stiles’ hip and stomach while the other - still bloody and cut up from the rock - stuck out as straight as possible, following the line of Stiles’ body.

Stiles had one arm tightly wrapped around the girl, the other was pinned between his side and the ground, his hand tried to prop up Luna’s hurt leg while he used his elbow and forearm to push their bodies along the floor and out the hole. Stiles had attempted to make the two of them as small as possible, making the squeeze through the opening even harder than the first time. But he did it with a level of grace Derek had never seen the younger boy possess. And sure, Stiles came out with a few scrapes of his own along his arms, hands, and cheek, but it was still one of the most graceful actions Derek witnessed of anyone.

“Got her,” Stiles breathed as he shifted to his back just outside of the opening. Luna stayed clinging to Stiles and Stiles closed his eyes for a second as he heaved in a deep breath. “Oh god, let’s get back to your house, I’m freezing,” Stiles suddenly hissed, shifting up to a proper sitting position as quickly as he could. Both the boys seemed to just now realize that the water from the creek filled up the first few inches of the cove’s floor and Stiles was now properly soaked from crawling around on the ground.

Derek helped Stiles stand and tried to remove Luna, who whimpered pitifully and only tightened her grip on the gangly boy instead. Stiles gasped gently, casting a smile towards Derek that was both apologetic and bordering on a slight grimace. “For the sake of my ribs and lungs, I think we should let her stay where she is for now, dude.”

The trio made the trek back to the house. As they came into sight, Derek caught sight of Laura and Cora who immediately latched onto the three moving towards them, running up to inspect the scene.

“Oh thank god!” Laura exclaimed, her hands gently ghosting over Luna, eyes tracing over the girl as if to confirm it was indeed her there and not another lost child from the woods. “Get them inside,” Laura ushered, pushing Stiles and Luna towards the house, eyes staying on Derek as she spoke.

Once Derek got Stiles and Luna inside and closed the door, he heard Laura’s call into the woods, her howl was quiet and subdued, not one of warning or distress but instead one of calling. Cora had disappeared down the hall, presumably to look for towels.

“Thank you,” Derek quietly whispered, his hand coming up to cup the back of Stiles’ neck, meeting the other boy’s eyes. Derek hoped the other could understand the sincerity and openness he tried to convey in that one look. The deep appreciation. Stiles simply nodded, a shiver running down his spine as he offered an awkward half-smile.

The moment was quickly broken as the back door slammed open, the rest of the Hale family spilling in. Peter Hale and his wife - Gloria Hale - zeroed in on the wet, shaking mass in Stiles’ arms. Talia, Jonathan, and Laura lingered at the sides, taking in the scene.

“Luna!” Peter croaked, lurching forward. Luna looked up from Stiles’ neck, her wide eyes filled with tears and a small sob falling from her lips. She loosely detached herself from Stiles and allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace by her father.

The next few minutes were filled with consoling and half-asked questions. Peter and Gloria checked over their child, fretting over the blood and (healing) cuts on her leg. Talia moved forward only to cup the back of Luna’s neck and offer a gentle squeeze before moving back once more, the need to comfort the girl and ensure she was okay being filled by the small action enough.

It wasn’t until Peter and Gloria finished fretting over Luna and Cora had reemerged with towels that everyone turned their attention back to Stiles. The boy smiled at them all nervously, shivering as he tightened his grip on the towel.

“We need to have a... Talk, Stiles,” Talia started, gently guiding the boy into the living room. Derek trailed closely behind, immediately grabbing the first available blanket to wrap around Stiles’ shoulders as he took a seat on a couch. Stiles threw the dark-haired boy a grateful smile as he pulled the blanket around him snuggly.

“First, we want to thank you for helping find Luna. We cannot thank you enough or repay you for your kindness,” Talia began, exhaling afterward. “Second, I think you deserve an explanation of all that happened tonight.”

“We’re werewolves,” Derek quietly finished once he realized his mother was a bit lost on how to direct the conversation. Talia snapped her eyes at him, a moment of surprise that her son spoke up, but nodded.

Stiles shifted beside Derek, a frown gracing his features as he looked up at Derek. A confused look crossed his eyes as he gently shook his head.

“Yea… I know,” Stiles spoke slowly. At this, the boy turned his gaze to look across the others spread across the living room. “I… have known. I thought you guys realized that? I thought that’s why my 'raised by wolves' comment was taken so badly - foot-in-mouth moment and all..?”

Everyone, once again, froze up. Clearly, no one was aware of Stiles’ in on this topic.

“You.. knew?” Derek asked weakly, his brows drawing in. Stiles simply nodded, shrugging.

“I mean, your wolves are kind of a part of you. It’s hard to ignore them wrapping around you,” Stiles shrugged as if that was obvious.

“Our wolves? What… What are you talking about?” Derek asked, his eyebrows drawing further in. Nothing the amber-eyed boy was saying made a lick of sense. Had he seen them all shifted before? But he said wrapped around… that’s… that’s not right.

Derek focused his gaze to look Stiles head-on, hoping to find some sort of answer. Instead, Derek saw Stiles’ eyes - his once warm, dark amber eyes - shining a bright silver-y color that ebbed at emeralds throughout. It was like a light in the dark, a spotlight that Derek was stuck in.

“What are you?” Talia asked cautiously, causing Stiles to snap his eyes towards her and offer an apologetic smile, the light from his eyes dimming and flickering out until the warm amber irises returned once more.

“Think of me as a messenger of the woods. I’m fae - connected to the earth,” Stiles explained. At this, Luna finally lifted her head, her mouth twitching into a small smile. “He moved the rock, daddy, he moved it just by touching it,” she offered, tugging gently at Peter’s shirt. Stiles smiled at her, offering a small nod.

“And you’ve known about us all this time?” Jonathan quipped, leaning forward in curiosity

At this, Stiles laughed. “I’m connected to you - all of you. I can feel all of the supernatural here. I thought you guys knew,” Stiles nodded, “it’s why I thought you avoided me.” The last part was murmured quietly, directed at Derek.

At this Derek blushed, ducking his head down low. “Uh, no… no that’s not why,” he muttered.

“Ah, well, we should give you two some time to talk. And I’ll go find you both some new clothes, you both look like you went for an evening swim,” Talia huffed, quickly ushering the others out of the room with her. She could sense the need for a deep talk and she for one did not want to be a part of that awkward engagement (she knew her son well enough to know it would be painful to some degree).

As the others cleared out, Derek grabbed Stilles’ hand, directing him to the porch. Hopefully, his family couldn’t hear everything they said (or they would at least pretend to not hear it, he hoped).

Before Derek could begin to (painfully) explain why he had been avoiding Stiles, the other boy rushed out, “I’m sorry.” At this, Derek quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought you knew and I thought you were weirded out because of, uh… of the connection. But now I realize you were uncomfortable because you could just sense my uh... Attraction, to you, and since you don’t know me, that was probably really weird and-”

“Stiles… Stiles, wait - no, that’s not it,” Derek interrupted, shaking his head. “Wait, connection?” he backtracked, squinting at the other.

Stiles blushed, ducking his head. “Yea, I’m fae. And us - fae - we have these things called kindred spirits. Which, yea, I know, is a saying or whatever, but it came from us, ya know? And… essentially, it means that we recognize a part of ourselves in another. It’s not like… a soulmate thing - I mean, it could be! But it essentially is just when two people share a part of their souls - a part of themselves. It attracts us to specific people and it can… develop into different things,” Stiles licked his lips, chancing a glance at Derek before continuing. “I noticed a kindred spirit in you, and I really wanted to get that connection, ya know? To see how we- if we could fit together. But god, dude, you’re like… a greek god, Jesus Christ, you don’t even seem real. How could I not be attracted to you? And you had a kindred spirit? It was just-” Stiles exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again, quietly.

Derek slowly broke out into a grin, shaking his head. “No, don’t be. I uh, I was actually avoiding you for… similar reasons,” Derek offered. Stiles snapped his eyes up, gaping at the other boy.

“I avoided you because your scent… it was so intense. And every time I knew you were near, I had trouble controlling myself. You smell… you smell like home. Like comfort and happiness. I just wanted to wrap myself around you but we didn’t know each other so…” Derek elaborated, trailing off. He didn’t know how else to describe it, but if Stiles could bare himself so easily to Derek then it was only fair Derek offered him the same. Or, as much the same as he could muster.

At this, Stiles grinned. His hand snaked out from his bundle of towel and blanket, lacing his fingers between Derek’s. “You felt the spirit,” he murmured, “it would have felt different for you and… and you felt it.”

“Yea, I did,” Derek agreed, leaning closer to the boy.

They both sat there, staring at one another, letting silence wrap around them. The silence was comfortable, a statement of their understanding of one another and the moment they were sharing. It was oddly intense but also relaxing - a feeling Derek had never experienced.

“Can I…” Derek asked, raising a hand to Stiles’ cheek, leaning in ever so slightly more. This only got him a wide, cheeky grin. Stiles leaned in, tilting his head ever so slightly, and met Derek halfway, their lips melding together.

Derek caressed Stiles’ cheek, his other hand moving to rest between where the other boy’s hips and thigh met. Stiles allowed his hands to reach out and pull Derek closer, one hand gripping his bicep with the other curled around the side of Derek’s neck.

As the kiss deepened, lips working in tandem, tongues taking turns to trace the other’s tips, a jolt ran through each boy. Stiles felt a hum resonate throughout his body while Derek felt an overdrive in his sense. He could suddenly only smell Stiles, and everywhere the boy touched him felt numbingly hot, his heartbeat was suddenly a tempo in the back of Derek’s mind.

Once they parted, foreheads lent against each other, the hum in Stiles’ veins quieted and Derek’s haze of sensory overload dulled.

Stiles opened his eyes, an easy grin spreading across his face. “We fit together,” he mumbled, a lilt to his voice that showed just how excited he was.

“Yea, I know,” Derek responded, an easy smile making its way onto his lips as he leaned forward again, chasing another kiss from the boy in front of him.

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anulight · 8 months ago

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George and Sabrina end up in the dream state together.

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inkandpaperqwerty · 9 months ago

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Weekly Update

Exciting stuff happening this weekend! My sister had her book-signing party for her recently released book, which you can buy many places, including here!

On the fanfiction front, I posted the second chapter of Awesome Mix Vol. 1 on Wednesday, and the next chapter will be out this coming Wednesday (03/13/2024). I also got most of one of the remaining chapters done, so I still have about two and a quarter to write, and then the story will be complete and all that’ll be left is to post it!

Also chipped away at a little oneshot of Loki, Steve, and Thor (from the Restitution universe) listening to songs that have nonsensical lyrics. It’ll just be added as a chapter to the Restitution Bonus Features story, so it won’t be posted as its own story.

I would like to post a list sometime this week of stories that I am working on but haven’t posted yet. I did this before, back in November 2023, and I have posted or started posting four out of the five stories I detailed in that list, so I’d like to make a new one! Hopefully, I’ll be able to organize and post that sometime this week or maybe this coming weekend.

On the original works front, I have started formatting my book, Cataclysm, through Atticus. I am also reaching out to my sister, who I mentioned above, as she has experience self-publishing and will be able to help me. I am hopeful that the book will be published this year, though I do not have a date in mind yet.

Thanks so much for reading!!

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kingofangst · 10 months ago

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The fact that this ship (Melissa McCall/Alan Deaton) is low in the number of works is criminal and I see the racist undertones when it comes to pairing a POC with another POC. I don't mind seeing Melissa and Alan paired because it would give a different perspective and a healthier relationship, especially with Scott being under Alan's wing.

LEMME GET THIS OFF MY CHEST!

Out of the 5 men shipped with Melissa McCall! ONLY ONE OF THEM has not wronged her son at some point during the entirety of the series! Can you guess who I’m talking about!?

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forestdeath1 · 9 months ago

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Canon Sirius through quotes

Part 3. Harshness and toughness (and how Sirius Black differs from James Potter). It's long. Really long.

Sirius isn't a soft crybaby. His harshness (and even cruelty) goes beyond the silly teenage pranks we usually see in fanfiction. Sirius is often either whitewashed by newer fans or overly demonized by anti-Marauders fans. Sirius has a tough exterior but a heart of gold. He's not childish and had to grow up early, though he can still be quite fun.

‘Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,’ said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. ‘Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought ... .’

"Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought" – this shouldn't be taken literally. Rosmerta saw many others regularly, Dumbledore, Lily, Remus, and many others, and out of all of them, Sirius Black was the last who could turn to the Dark side? Seriously? Did Sirius walk around with a halo and angel wings?

One trait that is always emphasized in his appearance is his haughty, bored look.

Rosmerta speaks metaphorically, not literally. She saw Sirius once a month or two when they went out to Hogsmeade to have fun and drink. In those moments, Sirius was lively, funny and noisy (especially lively after running away from home), and perhaps he even flirted with Rosmerta in a childish manner, melting the heart of the adult woman.

Sirius can be funny, although his humor is always edging towards dark:

"Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.’

Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.

‘Sirius!’ she said reproachfully. ‘Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I’m sure he’d respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he’s got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –’

‘So, what are Umbridge’s lessons like?’ Sirius interrupted. ‘Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?’

Moreover, he interrupts Hermione, not letting her finish her point. He sharply outlines if he doesn't want to listen.

"the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards"

Dark humor.

‘Kreacher is cleaning,’ the elf repeated. ‘Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black –’

‘And it’s getting blacker every day, it’s filthy,’ said Sirius.

Here he responds with a clear "Black" shade. His mother also loved to talk about filth.

‘Sirius – it’s me ... it’s Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn’t ...’ Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. ‘There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,’ said Black.

And again. And here’s his mother:

‘Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers –’

‘Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth ...’

Sirius desperately wants to be unlike the Blacks, but he is still Sirius Black.

‘I thought it was the perfect plan ... a bluff ... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you ... it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.’

Sirius's humor isn't the only harsh thing about him. Even though here he has a reason – after Azkaban he met James's traitor – his way of speaking reflects his overall personality. The way one speaks is a mirror of personality, even if Sirius has PTSD, it only exposes even more vividly what he might control in a calm state.

‘Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.’ (Peeves)

At the same time, yes, he can be cheerful and infect everyone around him with his cheerfulness. If he's in a sombre mood, he creates a quite oppressive atmosphere around him that everyone feels. Just as with a good mood – everyone feels it.

Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas.

Sirius tramping past their door towards Buckbeak’s room, singing ‘God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs’ at the top of his voice.

Sirius’s delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help.

But the ability to be cheerful is in no way connected to being very harshn at the same time. This is precisely the case with Sirius.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous (the author wrote about him, “The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders”). James was also a bully, but he's not harsh, despite the fact that it was he who pulled down Snape's trousers. Why? I think Sirius was already aware of what they were doing. James – not. Without awareness, it's too early to speak of any harshness and cruelty. Sirius had this awareness and still continued to do it.

Let's consider the reactions of Sirius and James in comparison.

‘Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?’

Sirius did not smile. ‘My whole family have been in Slytherin,’ he said.

‘Blimey,’ said James, ‘and I thought you seemed all right!’

Sirius grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?’

A small note: Sirius didn't even react to James's "I'd leave", even though he knew his whole family was from Slytherin, and he was likely to go there too.

James lifted an invisible sword. ‘“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” Like my dad.’ Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

‘Got a problem with that?’ ‘No,’ said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. ‘If you’d rather be brawny than brainy –’

It was Snape who starts the confrontation on a personal level. James in his insults in this memory refers to moral qualities. "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" Only bad people. He is prejudiced against Slytherin because Slytherin is evil. Voldemort is gaining momentum. The first Muggle-born Minister was recently ousted. Attacks are happening here and there. Dark forces are growing. More and more of the pure-blood society talks about "Mudbloods" not belonging in this world. And "amazingly", they all turn out to be from Slytherin. James sees himself as a noble knight "James lifted an invisible sword", and he is against Slytherin not so much personally as against the moral component of Slytherin.

‘Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?’ interjected Sirius.

James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

Sirius immediately strikes at Snape's personality. Sirius is sharp-tongued, self-assured, and likely accustomed to considering others below himself. He probably assessed James as his equal right away. Brave, cheerful, sincere.

'Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.'

'Oooooo...'

James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

'See ya, Snivellus!' a voice called, as the compartment door slammed...

James tried to trip Snape. James most often uses physical/magical force. He trips Snape, he pulls down Snape's trousers, he uses most of the spells on Snape in SWM. But it's Sirius who goes after Snape's personality. It looks like James has concocted a "noble justification" for his behavior and attitude and punishes Snape for existing just as he is.

Sirius, on the other hand, hardly uses magical/physical force in memories; he finds painful points in Snape's personality – from character to appearance, intentionally demeaning his personal traits.

Moreover, it was Sirius who focused on Snape's appearance. No one, except him, places such an emphasis on Snape's unattractive appearance and his untidiness.

'Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,'

Very vivid epithets. Sirius is very eloquent when it comes to demeaning someone he dislikes.

Moreover, it's James who's the attention seeker. It's James who plays with the snitch, drawing attention, glancing at the girls by the lake, and ruffling his hair to show everyone how cool, strong, brave, and awesome he is.

After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn’t tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed that his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to keep it from getting too tidy, and he also kept looking over at the girls by the water’s edge.

While Sirius, likely, isn't much interested in societal validation. Sirius is more reserved, with firmer boundaries, he's not as interested in public adoration as James might be.

Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

This is a typical expression for Sirius – bored and haughty. He spent nearly five full years in Gryffindor alongside James, and the bored and haughty expression is still with him. It's not just a random trait in his character – it's one of the pillars of his personality, reflecting his attitude towards random people around him.

‘Put that away, will you,’ said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, ‘before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.’

As I've said, Sirius cuts with his words without a knife. They've been studying together for five years, been friends with Peter, and he jokes about Peter like this. I think they all joked about each other in the same way, just James's "jokes" are blunt and probably he just says whatever comes to mind, whereas Sirius's are more subtle and hurtful.

Moreover, when people say this is the only episode we know of bullying by James and Sirius and that it's the worst in their history, that's not correct. This episode is the worst in Snape's life. And not because they pulled down his trousers. But because he lost Lily forever that day. This episode, likely, was quite typical for the Marauders. They were in a good mood, had finished exams, Snape just happened to pass by, there were no obvious reasons for this bullying. Harry sifted through their detention records, and there were many, very many, and how many more when they weren't caught?

Sirius got bored, and there they decided to "have some fun."

‘I’m bored,’ said Sirius. ‘Wish it was full moon.’

‘You might,’ said Lupin darkly from behind his book. ‘We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here ...’ and he held out his book.

But Sirius snorted. ‘I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.’

I won't discuss The Prank here, many have written about it. In general, Sirius doesn't show empathy in everyday interactions even with Remus. Sirius has a heart of gold, but his shell, especially as a teenager – tough, harsh, sharp, and cutting. The grown-up Sirius interacts with close people much more politely, though he still occasionally shows his harshness (for example, with Hermione).

‘This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,’ said James quietly. ‘Look who it is ...’

Sirius’s head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit.

‘Excellent,’ he said softly. ‘Snivellus.’

I don't want to justify Sirius and James, but for context – Snape is fascinated by the Dark Arts, hangs out with future Death Eaters (= fascist), and they have mutual dislike from the first year. No, the act is immature, but James justifies it in his head exactly like this – Snape is bad for him, so anything goes, and anyway, "so what?" Sirius doesn't need justifications. He's just bored.

Even when James uses all the spells on Snape, he still glances at the lake:

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands raised, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water’s edge as he went. Wormtail was on his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a clearer view.

Why look at the girls by the lake when you're humiliating someone, if you know you're doing something really bad? James genuinely sees himself as a noble knight, deserving of admiration. Moreover, many do admire him (''Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had got to their feet and were edging nearer. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained. Several people watching laughed''), and Lupin mentioned several times that James was popular at school.

‘How’d the exam go, Snivelly?’ said James.

‘I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,’ said Sirius viciously. ‘There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.’

Again, Sirius harshly targets Snape's personal traits, including his appearance.

‘You – wait,’ he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, ‘you – wait!’

‘Wait for what?’ said Sirius coolly. ‘What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?’

And again – Sirius strikes with words.

Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away nothing happened.

‘Wash out your mouth,’ said James coldly. ‘Scourgify!’

And James responds with a spell to what? Snape's insults. He says ‘Wash out your mouth.’ He appeals to the moral side of the issue.

‘I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!’

‘Apologise to Evans!’ James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. ‘I don’t want you to make him apologise,’ Lily shouted, rounding on James. ‘You’re as bad as he is.’ ‘What?’ yelped James. ‘I’d NEVER call you a – you-know-what!’

This also proves that James is sure he's doing everything right. James is like a volunteer in the allies' army against the fascists, a brave Gryffindor, and his sword is to cast spells on anyone he deems not fitting his moral standards.

‘Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.’

And from the outside, it looked like this.

‘What is it with her?’ said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

‘Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,’ said Sirius.

And Sirius understands it all too well. Who he is, who James is, and what Lily thinks about it all. Sirius knows about James's crush on Lily and finds it even funny that she rejects him. Likely because Sirius understands that they often cross the line. I don’t think Sirius could have stopped Potter. I don't even think Sirius wanted to stop Potter. He found it all funny. Azkaban, on the other hand, softened Sirius in his interactions with others. It knocked down his pride and arrogance. Showed him that life can be unfair and you don't need to act like a haughty jerk who thinks the world revolves around them.

At school, Sirius was more about psychological bullying, while James was about the physical. Given that James and Sirius were very popular at school and within their house, their bullying was likely directed mostly at Slytherins or at arrogant jerks like themselves who they just "didn't like."

And the adult Sirius understands that they were “arrogant little berks.” And he’s “not proud of it,” but his next words speak for themselves:

“ I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts.”

Sirius justifies James while simultaneously praising him. Justifications always imply a partial denial of guilt. Someone fully aware of their guilt doesn’t seek to justify or be justified. Of course, Sirius said this for Harry's sake too. To ensure Harry didn’t think his father was just a bully for no reason. His father was actually “on the side of good,” is what Sirius wants to convey. About himself, he remains silent. But he doesn't miss the chance to insult Snape again “little oddball.”

Even Remus, as an adult, sincerely justifies James.

‘She started going out with him in seventh year,’ said Lupin.

‘Once James had deflated his head a bit,’ said Sirius. ‘And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,’ said Lupin.

‘Even Snape?’ said Harry. ‘Well,’ said Lupin slowly, ‘Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?’

‘And my mum was OK with that?’

‘She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,’ said Sirius. ‘I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?’

Lupin finds a genuine justification for James. The concept of “violence in any form is bad” isn’t fully grasped by them. They follow an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Lupin even was ready to kill Peter, and he insisted that war is not a playground and that killing is sometimes necessary in war. Remus, though gentler and kinder, and preferring not to engage in conflict, genuinely wished Sirius and James hadn't bullied anyone at school, but yet, he still reconciles with all they do and even justifies James.

In Sirius's mind, James may have acted like a fool, but Sirius doesn’t genuinely condemn it. He just thinks they were too arrogant. And Sirius’s behavior after Azkaban (how he became gentler with others) indicates he truly realized – you don't need to belittle everyone you dislike or even like. Yet, Sirius’s harshness, even after Azkaban, didn’t disappear; it was just redirected towards what he genuinely hates.

‘Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons ... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me –’

Black made a derisive noise.

‘It served him right,’ he sneered. ‘Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to ... hoping he could get us expelled ...’

Remus's reactions are much softer, but Sirius’s reaction, even years later, is harsh and even a bit cruel. ‘It served him right.’ Because it's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

However, Sirius’s harshness still occasionally breaks through even towards his close ones when he slightly loses control over himself after Azkaban.

‘You’re less like your father than I thought,’ he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. ‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’

‘Well, I’d better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,’ said Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. ‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’

Sirius calls themselves “arrogant little berks,” but the peculiarity of Sirius’s arrogance is that it's due to his personal qualities, not external “glamour”.

‘I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you?’

He despises Peter for groveling, for weakness, for the same reasons he despises Regulus, considering him a soft idiot. Sirius’s arrogance was never built on finances or blood purity, on popularity, on playing Quidditch, not on his name, although the family dynamics undoubtedly influenced his pride. But overall, his arrogance is of a different level – that of a rebellious spirit, a very strong person, not like the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is intentionally depicted as the complete opposite of Sirius Black (in character – the most rebellious of their pure-blood circle and the most sycophantic, and in appearance – black and white).

Sirius and Kreacher's story demonstrates that Sirius does not forgive those he hated and can carry hatred through the years. People usually soften over time, but Sirius has an excuse – Azkaban. Nonetheless, the behavioral pattern remains unchanged. Azkaban does not change the essence of people, it makes certain traits more vivid and pronounced. Sirius became calmer towards the people around him who help fight against evil, he toned down his arrogance and pride (even towards Snape, he no longer hurls insults first, it’s Snape who insults Sirius first), but Sirius became even harsher towards those he hates.

‘Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius.’

Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius’s death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human’s ...

And he himself demonstrates this repeatedly:

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione’s protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.

Dumbledore believes Sirius showed cruelty to Kreacher through his indifference and neglect. That is, Sirius could shut off his empathy towards a being, despite generally being friendly towards house-elves.

‘He (Sirius) regarded him (Kreacher) as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated.’

Sirius was not evil. But the neglect emanating from him was very cruel, harsh, and cold. Sirius can shut away all the good within him towards anyone he despised – “And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier –”

‘– comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too –’

‘Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!’ said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf.

However, Sirius likely never killed anyone, even while serving in the "Order."

Regarding his family and even Regulus, Sirius is also harsh. Even if he, like any child, deep down loved his family, it doesn’t matter because his real words and actions are very harsh and aimed at severing ties. The possible love for them deep down only further highlights his harshness and readiness for confrontation.

“I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal ... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them”

Likely, he’s ashamed of them, and his hatred also builds a wall between them and himself.

‘Does it matter if she’s my cousin?’ snapped Sirius. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re not my family. She’s certainly not my family. I haven’t seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D’you think I’m proud of having a relative like her?’

And at the same time Dumbledore about James:

‘I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry,’ he said gently. ‘He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.’

I don’t know how true this is (though likely, the author speaks through Dumbledore here), but considering that Harry himself is a character whose main traits include the ability to understand and forgive others, perhaps James had this to some extent too. But Sirius lacks the ability to forgive, and this is deliberately shown in the book – that he suffered precisely because of his excessive harshness.

In conclusion, Sirius's harshness and toughness is not just teenage arrogance; it's directly a trait of his personality, something that cannot be overlooked when talking about the canonical Sirius, not his sugar-coated substitute in fandom. Sirius had to grow up very early, and all this left its mark on him.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous.

But Sirius was not cruel in a moral-ethical sense, or more precisely – ideologically. There's no reason to believe Sirius is constantly drawn to the dark side or that he's amoral. His constant fight against his family suggests instead that he formed high ideals within himself. No, Sirius is not amoral; he has difficulty with empathy (especially in childhood), a tendency towards aggression and cruelty (mostly in childhood, he controls himself quite well as an adult. Well, for Sirius Black quite well), arrogance, but he very well understands what is right and what is wrong.

‘She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.’

#sirius black #james potter #the marauders #the marauders meta #sirius black meta #hp meta

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