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julianxreese · 9 months

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Let It Out // self para

It was such a struggle fumbling with the keys to his apartment, that Julian's grip of Dodger's leash around his hand tightened as the dog yanked and pulled like a fire had been lit under his tail. Not quite unusual, the two year old puppy always lacked a calm switch, bouncing around the apartment with untamable energy. Honestly, they were both growing stir crazy lately. The recent earthquake sent their city reeling and construction to repair the streets near his complex mostly locked himself and Dodger stuck inside with nowhere to go. Adding to that, Julian didn't trust his mind when left alone nor can he trust his choices. He wasn't an impulsive person, he has never been impulsive, but people change.

"Alright, alright, big guy. Relax." His attempts to coax the dog proved futile as he closed the door and dropped to his knees, giving Dodger a few head scratches before unclasping the leash and watching the Labrador retriever immediately bolt in the direction of the kitchen. Julian rose to a standing position with an exasperated sigh and placed the leash on the hook hung by the front door for convenience. He waited a moment, and then another, and then another, the anticipation of Dodger's barks for his dinner or even the sloppy laps from his water bowl to reach his ears catching Julian by surprise when neither happened. He's probably sitting in there and waiting, the thought occurred. "Dodge?" He moved toward the kitchen curiously when the sound of glass clinking stopped Julian in his tracks.

Julian's imagination immediately began running wild, from a lowly burglar breaking into the home right down to even an assassin laying in wait for the attack. He knew one, however, and Judas would surely warn him if someone placed a bounty on his head, right? Nobody in Hedgestone knew how deep his connection lay already, they couldn't. Julian went so far as rationalizing this intruder was a figment easily explained away by the dog simply knocking something off the counter. "Dodger, come here, boy." Julian called out uneasily.

"You know, that's the flaw of dogs, they're so trusting." A voice came floating from the kitchen before the body in which it belonged to crowded the doorway with Dodger at their side. The figure, tall and built slender, held a glass of bourbon in one hand he sipped at with a mannerly fashion only present in the higher social circles. And he was just as fashionably dressed as Julian remembered back in their high school days. "Maybe even too much."

"Chandler." Julian breathed an enormous sigh of relief, steadying his heartbeat as well as he could. It hadn't been long since he found himself in the other male's presence, a quick run-in at the Urie mansion after Austen's resurrection became public knowledge. The brief pleasantries were tainted by awkwardness especially with how the house of cards that was his relationship to Morrigan came crashing down unceremoniously. He always admired Chandler's confidence roaming the school halls like he owned it, head held high, and tenacity spilling from his lips. Julian could never adopt the loquacious candor Chandler presented with performance, and though the last name contributed to Chandy's infamy, Julian never saw him as cold-hearted or standoffish. "Come here, buddy." The man directed a murmur towards the dog and patted his thigh, watching Dodger trot over to stop at his master's rightful side. His gaze came to settle on the man, "Whatever the hell it is you're here for, I really don't have the mental capacity right now."

Chandler hummed lightly, glancing between the puppy and his owner, "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in. You weren't home yet and I personally didn't have the mental capacity as you so described it to make the tedious journey all the way back here. My time's far too precious, you know." He released a scoff and crossed the threshold into the living room before taking a seat in an armchair that was looking a little worse for wear. Every piece of furniture contained within Julian's apartment had been well-maintained apart from the one Chandler sat himself in. Which only bore a tell-tale indication of constant use. "We need to talk, Julian. Sit."

"Talk? Oh, now you want to have a little chat." Julian's words ran dry in his mouth, experiencing an understandable array of emotions given instructions from someone you do not want visiting your residence and stringing the sentence humankind has learned can only follow dread. "I think we both know what this is going to be about." He stated after a pause, shrugging an arm in defeat and finding a spot in the middle of the couch. Dodger didn't hesitate jumping up on the cushions and resting his head in Julian's lap. If there's one sliver of comfort he could focus on, it was that.

"I assure you, you don't. Not completely, anyway. And do spare the dramatics." Chandler crossed one leg over the other casually and touched his lips to the glass he still totted, allowing the silence rise between them until it would leave Julian slightly squirming. The art of intimidation isn't a lesson obtained without an expert leading by example. His father, both birth and adopted, didn't hesitate proving their throne of power at every opportunity. Julian shifted uncomfortably in his seat from where Chandy could see which he didn't enjoy as much as he imagined. "You see, dove, I don't hide the lengths I will and have gone in further establishing my loyalty to family. I'm a bonafide Urie through and through. My position, the wealth, all pale in comparison to my sister's happiness." He sat back comfortably, continuing the spiel, "You made her happy. I'll be the first to confess that I'm forever the captain of this secret Julian and Morri ship however doomed for failure it became." Chandler waved a hand dismissively, "No matter my personal liking of someone, Morrigan's safety is and has always been my priority."

"I'm not a threat to her." Julian couldn't be certain that was the point being presented. He never sensed an inkling of a doubt Chandler was the type of person who traveled the ends of the earth for those he held most dear. If their roles were reversed, god forbid, he would do the same for Casey and has gone to lengths protecting his sibling. Julian traded his life for Casey's when the borders closed for good knowing his time in Hedgestone was sealed anyway.

"Oh?" Chandler observed as the dark-haired male spent the pause digging around in his jean pocket and produced a cell phone. Nothing but the sound of Chandler's fingers tapping the surface filled the air until his searching came upon a video sent through a chain of text messages. The moment he pressed play and turned the screen around, Julian's stomach immediately dropped with recognition. There, displayed in color complete with sounds, was his private meltdown at the batting cage a couple days back. Being present there and experiencing the anger was one thing, watching himself was somehow worse. The defeated expression along his features must have caught Chandler's attention for the other resumed, "When the outside world sees a man who's centered his personality around patience and a calm head lose his shit so ferociously, people begin asking questions. They start making connections and all roads lead to their guarded leader."

"You had me followed." Julian mustered the statement quietly, feeling a nauseous bile linger in his throat.

"Of course I had you followed." Chandler lifted his gaze in an eyeroll and released a sigh surrounded by impatience as he shoved the device back into his pocket. "You've been followed even after our cover was blown, Julian, I personally saw to it during my time away from St. Cascadia. Morri isn't aware yet of the precautionary steps I've put in place, but she will once I take my leave." He debated showing her the video that accompanied the explanation. Chandler despised keeping secrets from Momo, but she would've been outspoken about her objections. "If somebody like me possesses the means to snag this footage, what makes you think the gossip bitch herself hasn't already?"

"No, no, no, why would you have any possible reason to do that?" Julian sharply sat up further in his seat to a point where Dodger lifted his head with slight alarm, but the man couldn't see straight. There have been eyes on him since the relationship toppled, watching him, anticipating his next move as if he were seconds from causing a woman he loved harm. Chandler's reasons hardly mattered now, surveillance or no, there's now digital evidence proving Julian approached dangerous territory. "I don't need you breaking into my apartment and telling me I've slapped a target on my back, Chandler. I suffered with it for years watching her from the sidelines. Seeing how the world treated her, how every person in our school looked at her, the mantle she took after what happened to her father and Desmond-"

Chandler raised his hand and swiftly interrupted the statement at the mere mention of their deceased brother, "Please, waste your breath and continue lecturing me on the burdens that come with being a leader. It's not as if I wasn't there attending unbearable lessons with Dezzie." He spit with sarcasm, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning forward in seriousness Chandler couldn't stand. "Don't assume I'll send off this video for Savitri to peruse and post. I'm a petty bastard, but perception is everything." Especially from Hedgestone's many residents. "I understand how it seems you've been abandoned and left to drown as the rest of the faction moves on, dove. You two chose distance and that was supposed to save your life." Chandler straightened his posture with demanding assertion, "What you have been tormenting yourself over, you can't have it both ways and straddle the line. You can't love her and expect to remain the golden boy-next-door you've painted for the world's viewing."

Wasn't the notion sensible, believing a man harboring the best friend status found Julian's breakdown useful and present everyone's most reviled blogger the perfect opportunity to post the bombshell on a new target they haven't written about before? Julian knew the only reason the other male refrained and she wasn't in this room. Somehow, he cannot appreciate it the way Chandler hoped for, as if he preconceived a sign of gratitude. "Save my life? Staying in Hedgestone and watching as you both carry on as if you didn't destroy what little life I tried building consumed me, Chandler." He exclaimed in exasperation, shaking his head repeatedly. "Morrigan doesn't want to be with me anymore, I'm nothing. It was her kingdom or love and you know her choice."

"I cannot speak on Morri's behalf and give you a false sense of hope by promising she desires another whirlwind romance with her high school sweetheart, but you also can't proclaim standing at her side while simultaneously showing disgust for the blood on her hands. So to speak," Chandler's hazel gaze pulled from Julian and rested on the back of his own hand, inspecting the nails coolly. "Take a walk on the dark side and embrace who you could be if she happened to take you back. It's not a bad place to be garnering a leader's favor, handsome. Don't think of it a treachery or betrayal." He looked upon the oldest Reese through a half-lidded stare coated by playfulness. "Own it."

Julian could do nothing but process the words with mass confusion, staring dumb-founded as he pictured himself standing at the edge of a vast forest, nothing but swirling darkness reaching forward and claiming him. He traveled along its length for many years, always staying safe at the border, but never making a valiant dare hopping the fence to see what awaited on the other side. His foot slowly inched over, flirting the temptation, particularly regarding his interactions with dangerous people, and yet he still chose righteousness. Maybe he wasn't completely good. He wasn't innocent, perfectly behaved, nor angelic. What made him saintly maybe became an attractive appeal for Morrigan, but loving her turned his soul to poison. This is the eternal dark without a dawn. "You want me to own it. I mean, I had no way of knowing I was inflicted with whatever this is after I've lost everything. Right?"

"Ah," Chandler released a hum and nodded once in understanding, "Right, this is about wonder boy's little hot dish of gossip he calls an expository article." He himself threatened violence upon the reporter when the written piece crossed his phone's screen. An attractive imbecile, if he has ever been acquainted with one. "How rude it should be of me to send an assassin after him, would it not? Justified, but rather impolite. I'd prefer burying my own bodies."

Julian opened his mouth and expected a response to spill, ultimately closing it instead when there were a half dozen sarcastic statements that could have been offered. No, Leonardo's article did not sooth his anxieties and convince him he wasn't tearing the hair from his skull for no silly reason. "Yeah, so," He mustered, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, you know, in case he disappears and I'm questioned. I don't really care to drop the soap for your benefit."

"No need dropping the soap when I have a view of that perfectly chiseled bottom for free any day." Contemplation covered his sharp features before the matter at hand pulled him back to reality. "Look, you haven't lost anything, Julian. Anyone who judges you for what your heart cannot help yearning are not true friends. It's not my responsibility to speak for Momo, but I will say this," Chandler rose from the chair to a standing position as his nimble fingers worked on the buttons of his designer coat. "Beyond the frigid distant dictator, I think she still loves you. You're the one who got away. The teenage dream, the..." He rolled his wrist as if it may help conjure the thoughts, "The reason why I do not have little nieces and nephews to spoil rotten by now."

Julian hesitantly followed the other's lead and stood up the same time Chandler had, folding his arms across his chest so he wouldn't fidget. "You really think if past events were different, we'd have children." A fantasy, a world without Douglas' existence suffocating his daughter's choices of the man she would spend the rest of her days with, just the two of them and any number Morrigan wanted for children. Whether it is one or three or ten, Julian would abide if her happiness persisted. "I know you're only saying it to make me feel better, but as long as I make sacrifices for her, I'll keep losing everything."

"And here I am, left playing the matchmaker." Chandler extended a hand and gently ruffled Dodger's head as he squeezed past both him and the dog's owner to reach the front door, shrugging, "You know the choice you're faced with, dove. Though, I'm tickled by an inkling you have already made it."

"Maybe I have. Now, it's up to Morrigan." Julian rounded the couch and met the other at the apartment's exit. The last few days brought an accumulation of extreme exhaustion and here Chandler arrives to dump the avalanche when all he needed was a beg for pitiful mercy. He was talented at that, wasn't he, throwing himself at clemency's feet and kissing the ground she walked. Why shouldn't his pleading extend towards her right hand man?

"Good. I knew I liked you for a reason. Other than those rippling pectorals and that hair even I'm jealous of." Chandler reached out his hand again and flirtingly wound a lock of Julian's curls around an index finger, humming as the man pulled away in annoyance. Releasing a chuckle, he dropped his arm and nudged open the door, "Allow me to arrange a meeting and perhaps, I'll see you around the mansion more often. God, how I have missed that face."

"Chandler?" Julian knew he should let this go and save the conversation for another day, but he waited over a decade for answers. He watched Chandler turn around at the sound of his name with the same curiosity shared between the two men. "You left me in that hallway with excuses, did you forget that?" Julian sure didn't. "I spent weeks debating whether I should've stood at those gates and waited for someone to come out to tell me what the fuck happened, but no, all I had were your words. That I was just a distraction, your amusement, that I'd been used for my naïve outlook." He stepped forward, closing the space that much further and feeling the same anger spike. "Is this you saying she actually loved me?"

When they were standing next to each other, Chandler only just noticed he towered over Julian by a few inches. Somehow, he knew the subject would land here. Their last chat at school after the incident at home. The unimaginable torture of the three Urie children and the reason he vanished on his travels. God, how he dreaded this confrontation. "I know you possess the brains in that pretty head of yours, Julian. Think about it," He tipped his head back, "You are bombarded by confirmed tales about our father from myself, you know the horror stories from Morrigan. One day, everything is fine and the next, we're no longer attending classes. Leaving me with the task of shattering a relationship Morri cannot do herself. Fill in the blanks, dove."

His worst fears realized. Julian couldn't face the fact he was being told complete lies back then and he was struggling coping with it now. He thought back on that day, pinpointing details overlooked by the initial shock. Something about Chandler's demeanor screamed exhaustion. The rings around his eyes, the irritability alone, hinted toward what had caused the haunted look on the other man's face. No smiles nor playfulness, only hidden desperation. "Tell me what happened, Chandler. Did he touch her?" He couldn't help playing the defensive even if the man in question was buried six feet under.

Chandy breathed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head with overwhelming sadness. "I can't, Julian, I'm sorry. Only four people know what happened and two are dead. It's in everyone's best interests if we keep it that way." He turned on his heel and placed a hand to the doorknob, the deja vu creeping along his spine of history repeating itself. Chandler's mind flashed backwards in time, to his torment implemented by his adopted father. His memories shut down a long time ago and he had no choice but leave that boy behind. Leave Julian behind. Something told him he couldn't do that this easily now. "Look," Chandler turned slightly, "You will never fully grasp the sacrifices Morri made for you, Julian. She, my brother, and I risked everything for you. We protected you...and I protected her." He allowed the statement sit for a second.

"If you can't tell me anything, then why come here at all?" Julian hissed through his teeth in frustration. That's what this is, a constant running in circles and a haunting of a ghost's tormenting whispers. This is the reason why he found himself at a batting cage, losing his marbles, and taking the insanity out on a meaningless fence that did absolutely nothing. It mattered little compared to what Morrigan must have endured at the hands of her father, something now left to his imagination. Just another reason he was relieved Douglas was gone. "Why play matchmaker now, as you called it? What are you really doing here, Chandler? Just enlighten me for once."

"Oh, handsome," Chandler reached out his hands and began straightening the collar of Julian's shirt with a wistful sigh, wanting to speak a million sentences and offer the brutal reasons why he does what needs doing. The mender, the guard dog, the loyal sibling protecting his sister's happiness. Even in that moment, though, he could appreciate Julian for merely what he was born with. Chandy and Morri always had that trait in common, a real taste for the attractive ones. "I'm fixing it."

Julian stood stock still, knowing the other's fussing had been a standard habit he relented complaining about. Maybe it was a method of caring, of acceptance, or it could have very well been an obvious flirtation. "How?" He brushed Chandler's hands away and stepped back while his gaze searched the other's expression. Clearly, guilt doesn't just weigh heavily, it also brings his ex's best friend to his doorstep in the search for mending past mistakes. Admirable. And confusing all the same.

Chandler considered this briefly, pondered his own plan weaving a solution for Morrigan and her past lover. Momo forever carried her shackles as a leader and guarded her heart safely, but if she understood how dire the situation became with regards to Julian's place in the dark from their secrets, she would know Douglas' leash shattered the day he died. One promised meeting and she could have everything if she asked it of Chandler. "Trust me." Trust me now like you trusted me back then.

"Chandler," Julian began as patiently as he could muster, "That's not a comforting answer-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chandy shot out one hand and placed a finger to the man's lips in order to silence him which, he could have found rather humorous seeing how easily it succeeded in doing so, "It's the only answer I can provide for the time being. As of now, don't do anything stupid until you hear back from me, capeesh?" He patted Julian's cheek amusingly and didn't bother staying for drinking in the oldest Reese's stunned silence before finally taking his leave.

Chandler's last goodbye adhered to the basic identifiers of his ostentatious personality, finding new and improved ways earning jaw-dropping moments, making memorable exits no one could question. His mouth curved in a displeased frown as the straight and narrow road ahead veered into a completely different lane. It was slowly driving past an horrendous car crash one could not look away from, a beautiful disaster of mangled decisions and gruesome scars that would take ages to heal. Julian fought his losing battle for the very last time.

Right here and now, all he can do is dive headfirst and hope this isn't the death of him.

#self para: let it out #ft. chandler fitzgerald

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alch3mic · 3 years

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Could. Could I request SOFT TM SWAPAROO!BEAST/KING FLUFF??? aa??

The job you had was rather... peculiar one.

It certainly wasn’t the strangest job you’ve ever had in this crazy city, not by a long shot, but it was perhaps the most interesting you've had yet.

You were a personal maid.

That in itself was a pretty ordinary job title, which is why you didn't hesitate to apply for the job when you saw it online one day.

It was described simply as a live-in kind of gig with some rather long hours attached and a rather strange set of requirements, but the pay was way too good for you to pass up.

So you applied.

You were met the very next morning with a very strange phone call from a very callous individual who asked you some very bizarre questions.

The kind of questions you very much never asked for a job interview.

...Which made the whole thing seem very suspicious to you.

Still the money was very tempting so you decided to... very much continue with the job application anyways.

After what felt like more of an interrogation than a proper interview, the voice on the phone had told you to come down to the 'estate' for a face to face, and from there they would decide if you really got the job or not.

At this point you had expected a couple of things.

Like, maybe this was just some kind of prank and you'd show up to an empty lot, or... maybe it was a really elaborate ruse to rope you into some kinda weird pyramid scheme?

Wouldn't have been the first time that kinda stuff happened with all the different jobs you've applied to over the years.

Well, what you hadn't expected was to show up to the most ominous looking mansions you could've ever imagined; complete with deep dark colors, thorny rose bushes and several tacky gothic ornaments that made the whole thing look like it popped straight out of a storybook for a villain.

To top the whole affair off you met the owner of said villainous mansion; one very tall, very intimidating skeleton, who held the same callous tone as the one who spoke to you over the phone.

...A Fell...

And that's when your heart sank.

Seems like your bad feeling was right.

.......Until it wasn't.

The exchange you ended up having with him was actually rather pleasant, and he seemed to warm up to you rather quickly when you made an unexpected friend out of his cat. His sour expression ended up turning.. well.. less sour at the very least, and from there the two of you really seemed to hit it off.

Your job, as he described, would be easy.

Take care of his recluse brother.

......And that was it...?

Alright, you said.

And really, that was it.

You were given a rather cool looking (although also kinda tacky) uniform which completely matched the whole dark and gothic interior of the house, a tour of the place, and a small list of duties you were expected to perform daily along with anything else his brother asked of you.

Anything else, Papyrus took care of.

Cool.

Great.

Stellar, really.

What your new boss failed to mention was how much of a recluse his brother really was.

Like, the guy didn't even leave his room the first few days you were there.

You exchanged very few words with him through a large set of double doors on occasion, and you eventually managed to work out a bit of a schedule where he'd leave his room for a few hours and you'd tidy his space up.

You still ended up never seeing him.

He'd always miraculously disappear before you came in, even the few times you'd shown up just a few minutes early in hopes that'd you catch a glimpse of this guy.

But, no luck.

The whole affair just left you feeling rather curious about who exactly it was you were taking care of. You could tell from picking up his room that he was tall, much like his brother, but also kinda wide.

Built more like a square than a rectangle.

You could also tell he had a variety of interests from the books always messily littering his room. Anything from astronomy to zoology, all of the pages meticulous marked with sticky notes and papers with hastily scribbled notes on them. There was also an assortment of crafty things, like fabrics and chains always hastily thrown together on a desk that he apparently used to make things, such as outfits for himself.

It was cute, in a way.

He even eventually made something for you.

A gold bracelet, decorated with most delicate porcelain red roses who's petals were also trimmed in gold.

A thank you, he said, for taking care of him... and for filling the halls of this home with your singing.

You absolutely adored it, which is why it made you all the more determined to finally meet with him face to face.

Of course though, just like with everything else in your life, none of your plans ever worked out. Every opportunity to catch a peek at him was missed, even on the days where you would slide him things like meals through his door. He was always shadowed by the light in his room, so you could never see his face, and he always closed the door so quickly so your eyes could never adjust.

It was.. a little frustrating but, really it wasn't your place to push why he hid away.

You did happen to ask Papyrus one day when you were helping him tend to the rose bushes, but he all he told you was that his brother was shy around other people.

...Shy your fuckin' ass.

Sure, he was sweet. You could tell that from not only the gift he gave you, but also from the extended conversations you'd have with him on the other side of the door. He was a bit quiet in your first few exchanges but eventually warmed up a lot more to you the more you tried to strike up friendly conversations. He ended up becoming a little more cheeky, and seemed to have a certain skill for making you bust your butt laughing with his otherwise raunchy humor.

Really.. with that kind of smoother talker personality you really had to wonder what he went through to make him so cautious around others.

But.. again it just wasn't your place to ask.

You were here to make a paycheck, not invest yourself into the problems and lives of others... despite how much you enjoyed working for your employers.

Both of the brothers ended up treating you very well.

You were paid handsomely and never felt yourself being overworked. They never asked anything outrageous of you, gave you a rather lovely living quarters all to yourself on the estate grounds and even gave you adequate days off.

The whole thing almost really felt like some kind of fairy tale.

So here you were again, living in a small piece of your own world as you wandered the halls of the estate in the late hour, technically past your shift.

The rain pitter pattered against the window as you traveled with a laundry basket in hand, your last chore for the day. It had taken a while to dry thanks to the damp weather, and even though you were technically due to be off you wanted to have this finished before retiring for the evening.

Just needed to drop it off in front of Sans' room and away you'd g-

"mrow?"

You inhaled quickly at the sound, jumping a bit before turning back to look down the hall at a familiar white cat in the distance.

"Oh stars above, it's just you Doomy," you breathed out, placing a hand to your chest.

The cat meowed again as it trotted closer to you, so you carefully set down the laundry basket to scoop up the white cat in your arms.

"You scared the hell out of me! Didn't Papyrus ever teach you it's bad manners to sneak up on others you silly little cat?" you whispered softly as she purred in your arms.

Oh you could never stay mad at Doomfanger for too long.

She was just too cute, and always liked to keep you company on nights like this when Papyrus had to attend to business in town. Certainly made you feel a lot less lonely, even though you knew someone else was technically in this house too-

CREAK.

You froze again, hearing nothing but silence until the floors creak again underneath someone's footstep.

Then another.

And another.

Closer and closer.

......

Alright well you were armed with nothing but your two fists, some laundry and a cat, but Papyrus had left the whole estate in your care tonight and you would be damned before you disappointed him!

So, you turned confidently to face whoever was stalking these halls before being met with...

"...Sans?"

You're not exactly sure what compelled you to call out his name, considering whoever you were looking at had a blanket covering their shoulders and head, but apparently your guess was right as he froze on the spot.

"...Jeez, both you and Doomfanger are apparently determined to scare me out of my wits tonight," you finally sighed, letting the cat go as she gracefully landed and sauntered her way over to Sans before rubbing up on to his leg.

He still seemed frozen in place, his head tilted ever so slightly in your direction but the blanket he wore over his head still casted him into shadows thanks to the dim lighting of the halls. The only thing you could properly see were a pair of eyelights burrowing into you, one red and one white.

"Is.. everything ok?" you asked, picking up the laundry basket and carefully approaching closer.

Clearly it wasn't considering he was out of his room when you were here but...

"....left.."

"Huh?" you asked, still trying to at least keep some respectable distance between you both but also taking a step in to catch what he was saying.

"i...i-i thought you.. already.. so i......... snack..."

He was fumbling with his words, seeming to shrink in a bit on himself almost in fear or some kind of embarrassment.

"Oh! No, sorry!" you explained with a quick wave of your hand. "I just had this last load to finish but it took forever to dry so I stuck around a little longer to get it done!"

You did your best to smile warmly at him, which you hoped would ease a bit of the tension he was holding, but it didn't.

Instead he became... really...

Red.

Very, very red in fact.

So much so that it actually lit up his face, and for once you could actually see him as he stared back at you, seeming transfixed upon your features. There were harsh cracks and scratches splintered over his face, and just the faintest hint of gold where a tooth would have been.

"...Huh.."

Your words seemed to snap him out of whatever kind of trance he was in and he quickly covered his face with a clawed hand.

"n-no! this...! i.. didn't...! mean to... scare..."

He seemed to be scrambling for words again, but you were still dazzled by what you just saw, unable to keep the sparkle down in your own eyes.

"You've...."

He continued to cover his face with his other hand.

"......got some crumbs on your face."

.............

He carefully peeked at you between his claws, that red eyelight of his slightly enlarged and looking.. incredibly confused.

"Here," you said, tapping your own cheek.

Sans seemed to pause again, carefully removing once of his hands to rather quickly wipe his face.

"Nope, other one!" you giggled, unable to resist the smile climbing over your face once again.

Another attempt and another miss.

You could feel his eyelight bore into you some more when you laughed a bit more loudly this time, shaking your head and setting down the laundry basket once more.

"Oh my gosh, just..! C'mere!" you finally said, taking a few more steps while pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket.

He stared again for a few more moments, hesitating only slightly before carefully bending down to your level and slowly moving his hands from his face.

You lightly placed a hand on one of his rather tense cheeks before gently wiping the other, making note of the kind of crumbs he still had clinging to his face thanks to the red glow that still illuminated his cheekbones.

Slowly you felt the tension he held melt away and soon enough it felt like he was resting his head in the palm of his hand while a gentle rumbling noise made itself present to your ears.

"....Did you eat the last of the cookies?" you asked, glancing back up him only to see him quickly look away from you.

".........maybe," he said softly, letting out a small gruff laugh.

"Ooooh, Papyrus is going to have an absolute fit when he gets back," you snickered.

"...yeah i know..s'fine," he mumbled softly. "..just gonna blame it on you."

"Hey!!"

"...or doomfanger.."

"Oh my stars, do not blame the cat you goober!"

"what? i'm pretty sure you'd both get in less trouble than i would!"

"That's not the point you jerk, haha!"

"..heh.."

Yeah.. this... really was quite the peculiar job, wasn't it?

Strangely though, you liked it.

A lot.

Especially now that you got to see just how cute the skeleton beyond the door really was.

check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!

#why did this become so long?#because i just love setting up a premise and building a world for a story #I CANNOT HELP MYSELF OK #so please take this drabble #of our beastly king and his hard working beauty #he shy ok #beast!sans #underfell #underfell sans #sans x reader #reader insert #drabble #swaparoo!au #alch!writes

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pretend-writer · 4 years

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How Am I Supposed To Live Without You (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: Suspecting that his best friend, Y/N, was hiding something from him, Diego finally finds out the truth.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: How Am I Supposed To Live Without You x Michael Bolton

Word Count: 1.7k words

Warning: angst. pure angst.

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Diego pov;

She was hiding something from me.

It was in an instant where I figured out Y/N had some sort of secret that she didn't tell me. It was the way she talked, her body language; whatever she was saying didn't match the vibe I was getting from her.

Either way, she thought she could keep something from me. She was wrong.

Y/N and I've been best friends since I left dad in that lonely ass mansion. She was the first friend I made that wasn't my siblings, not only that but she was my first love too.

I'd always tell myself that she was a friend, a best friend that I could never replace; which was the truth.

But the whole truth was that I loved her so much and I was scared to tell her how I felt about her. Afraid that my one true friend wouldn't love me back. Terrified that she'd think I was crazy and eventually leave me.

Now that I knew that she had a secret she wasn't telling me, I was dying to know what was so great that even I couldn't know about. Or perhaps she had other best friends that she was close with. Some sort of jealousy formed from this random assumption in my head and it was starting to get to me.

It had been about two weeks since I've figured everything all out. Y/N hasn't even mentioned anything out of the ordinary and she had been acting the same way as she did before.

At this point, I was too curious to wait until she told me first. This time, she had seemed so upset and I just wanted to make her feel better. 'What's on your mind?'

With a fake smile on her face, she replied. 'Ah, nothing Diego?'

'It doesn't seem like nothing.'

'I'll be alright, I promise.'

'Are you sure?'

'Mhmm.'

Maybe it was something I wasn't supposed to know, I've started to believe that. I hate that I was so curious to where it started to drive me crazy but the more time had passed, I started to doubt myself. It started to question my worth for her.

It could've been something serious that had happened, like something about her family or financial issues. But those were the things she would discuss with me whenever she needed someone to talk to.

At the same time, it couldn't be something that was completely sad and upsetting. After all, she was giggling and laughing last night when we were hanging out. Perhaps she was faking all of that. The fact that I didn't know what it was killed me but I decided to let it go.

That was until I saw Luther and Y/N hang out a lot.

I would admit, jealousy made me a nasty person. I'd get angry, upset at myself and take it out on the people I love. Despite the differences Luther and I had, he didn't deserve any hate from me. Y/N sure as hell didn't either.

It was stupid of me to assume; perhaps Luther and Y/N have started seeing each other?

But how was my assumption stupid? It could happen. Luther knew how I felt about Y/N but he can betray me or even love her himself. All these thoughts and the mystery drove me crazy.

This had led me and Y/N to fight and argue, she was confused to why I was upset all the time. I couldn't tell her it was because I was jealous, I knew it was dumb but I couldn't control myself.

Luther looked at us like we were crazy, he tried to be the mediator but I hated that. I hated that he was spending time with Y/N as much as I was or even more.

Eventually Y/N came up to me, 'Why are you acting this way? You know how much I hate it when you turn nasty like this. For no reason too, or at least you say there isn't one.'

I couldn't blame her for hating this side of me because I hated it too. Why was I so jealous and so angry but I wasn't man enough to tell her my feelings? Why was I so scared to tell her the whole truth?

'Did I do something to make you mad? You're usually not this bad but this is out of line, Diego.'

Y/N continued to ask questions I couldn't answer. The truth was she did do something to make me upset but it wasn't her fault at all. It wasn't her fault that her and Luther were getting closer. It wasn't her fault that these crazy assumptions in my head was making me jealous of them.

Of course she was making new friends, I was being a dick. I was hurting her in ways I didn't mean to but I didn't know any better because I was too busy with this jealousy that I couldn't handle.

'Diego, you need to relax okay?' Luther saw me angry one night, I think my mind was starting to stir up from all the anger that had built up inside me.

It had been nearly a month since Y/N and I stopped hanging out. She was avoiding me, annoyed about how I was acting. I don't blame her for one bit, I was a mess.

'How are you out of all people going to tell me to relax!?' I threw a knife onto the wall, barely missing Luther's shoulder.

What triggered me was when I saw Y/N's messages popping up on Luther's screen while he was on his phone. It suddenly got me heated when I started thinking about how she started to shift towards my brother and completely away from me, even thought the reasons were obvious it was because of how I was acting lately.

'Woah, what's wrong with you?' Luther's eyes widened, slowly backing up away from my room.

'You know Luther, you fucking know.' I bit my lip furiously, I didn't know how I wasn't bleeding at this point. I was so furious, my blood was practically boiling. 'I've loved her for so long and you took her away from me! What the hell did you do!?'

'Okay, dude. Please-'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do, Luther. So now what? You took my best friend and now you're dating her? Is that it huh?'

Luther took a deep breath, 'You need to calm down.'

'No, YOU need to understand that you're not better than me Luther. Stop using her to prove that!'

'You're confused, chill for a moment and we will talk once you're calm.'

'I don't need you to fucking tell me that you're fucking Y/N behind my back!'

Luther watched me, veins popping out of my head as I was heated in this conversation that wasn't going anywhere. 'Do you hear yourself Diego? Do you really think I'd do that to you?'

Chuckling under my breath, I shook my head. 'I don't trust you anymore "Number One." You know what you did.'

'I'm trying to protect you.'

'Don't you fucking lie to me!' I ran into Luther, punching his stomach but as strong as he was, he didn't flinch at all.

Luther sighed, taking all of my anger in and not fighting back. 'You have to believe me. I'd never do anything to hurt you.'

'You've been trying to compete with me for as long as I remember. Don't give me that bullshit.'

'I promise, Diego. I'm trying to protect you.'

'Just tell me the truth, you fuc-'

'She's gone.' Luther paused, scratching his head and not knowing what to do. 'She's gone, okay?'

Letting go of him, I slowly backed away. The words that just came out of his mouth didn't fully process in my mind. 'You're lying. Sh-she's not gone.'

'Remember Nate that she dated back in college? They've caught up months ago and she got engaged last month.' Luther mumbled, avoiding eye contact with me. 'She moved across the country with him, Diego.'

Instantly, I felt my life crumbling into millions of pieces as Y/N slowly slipped away from me. Y/N left for good, with a different man. She didn't even tell me she was leaving.

I never gave her a chance to tell me.

Instead she had to hear me bicker, bitch about literally something so stupid. If she had told me all of this, I could've stopped her from going. I could of finally told her how much I loved her and how I couldn't live without her.

'Diego...' Luther knew how much I loved Y/N, he knew how much it pained me to hear this news. 'I'm so sorry Diego.'

'No...' I didn't know what else to say, I was broken and I didn't even have the chance to see her.

'I've tried so hard to stop her, tried to convince her to tell you that she was leaving. Y/N couldn't do it and then you two started fighting. She suspected you knew about it and thought that you didn't want to speak to her anymore.'

All I could think of was how much she probably suffered from my attitude towards her. We had never fought before, yes a small argument and jokes here and there. But never to a point where we stopped talking all together.

Not to a point where we leave each other for good.

I made everything worse, I was supposed to be her best friend that would be there for her for anything. Instead I hurt her, I made her feel like she couldn't come to me for help or trust me with anything.

'I'm so sorry.' Luther apologized over and over again.

'You've done more than enough to help. This is all my fault. I drove her away.'

Luther reached out for me, hugging and comforting me. Tears rolled down my eyes, I didn't care that I hated crying especially in front of my siblings. Y/N was gone and everything was my fault.

I continued to cry, pounding on Luther's chest as I bawled in pain. I've never felt anger and sadness like this before, it hurt so bad and all I wanted to do was talk to Y/N or see her again.

But I couldn't. She left for good, turned her life around and kept on going. She kept on going without me in the picture. I can't even imagine my life without Y/N because she was my life. She was the person that kept me going. But now it was all over.

Because all that I've been living for was gone.

#tua oneshot #the umbrella academy oneshot #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves fic #diego hargreeves x reader

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incomingalbatross · 3 years

Note

For your WIPs, things Soos probably knows about Stan? And/or post canon summers?

Thank you, and sorry I didn't answer this sooner!

"Things Soos knows" was me brainstorming which parts of Stan's Mysterious Past Soos has already figured out.

I think (as I said somewhere else) that Soos must have guessed that Stan has a long-lost twin, from the indications Stan's dropped over the years, and I think he also knows that one of them was Stanley and one was Stanford, even if (like the fans pre-NWHS) he doesn't know which was which. He also knows that Stan had a bad dad (I'm SURE Filbrick has come up obliquely enough times for him to get that) and that Stan is up to SOMETHING because sometimes you come to the Shack and he's not there but then he IS there and acts like he was all along. Can he teleport? Is there a secret room in the Shack? Does Mr. Pines have a secret superhero identity he's hiding?? It's definitely one of those!

Oh, and Soos is also aware of all the Gravity Falls weirdness and knows that Stan always tells him not to talk about weird stuff or people will think he's crazy. (This is the actual advice Soos gave Dipper in "Tourist Trapped," so...) I imagine that Soos doesn't see the weirdness as a secret so much as "something you don't talk about," and also he's not great at distinguishing genuine weirdness from other stuff, but he does assume Stan is...not unaware of the weirdness, I guess. Which he's right about, but from a funny angle.

(In reality, of course, Stan probably told him not to talk about it as a way of shielding him from the SotBE's attention. But Soos doesn't know about them--and Stan may only have a vague idea of who/what they really are, tbf--so he accepted Stan's advice at face value.)

---

My post-canon summers doc is just notes on things I like to imagine about how Gravity Falls looks, 5-10 years post-canon. It never completely gelled, but some ideas (my own thoughts and things I picked up from fandom):

Gideon and Pacifica maybe forming some sort of formerly-terrible-kids support group

Wendy becomes a big-sister figure to Candy and Grenda and maybe Pacifica as well

Fiddleford fills his new mansion with robots but also all the kids in town like to go there to explore--it's open to everyone 24/7, basically, and you're welcome to camp out in one of the 175 spare bedrooms if you want (I like the idea of him reversing the Northwests' closed-off legacy)

Melody becomes a big-sister figure to Wendy (I still think this is a very important friendship, because they're both Shack crew now but also because Wendy has no women in her life! Melody's friendship would be so good!)

Stan gets renamed "Grandpa Mystery" at some point, once Soos has had his first kid. Ford is maybe Doctor Mystery?

And also the town adds like half-a-dozen new holidays to its regular summer calendar:

The day all the Pines Twins come back every year, there's always a party at the Shack, and it's unofficially the beginning of summer

(Stan and Ford's birthday is smaller--they don't like a big public party, I think. Townspeople still wish them happy birthday and get them presents, and there's always talk of making it a public holiday because of Town Hero Stanley Pines, but it's less of an event.)

Soos's birthday is the happiest party of the summer! Everyone loves Mr. Mystery, so the Mystery Twins and the rest of his family organize a big celebration at the Shack every year and the whole town makes sure to show up. Soos cries every year, too, but they're happy tears.

The craziest party of the summer is the one held at NW Mansion every year, though--funded by Fiddleford's money and organized/hosted by Pacifica. It's full of stuff you'd normally need to pay exorbitantly for at an amusement park or something--lots of unhealthy food, unsafe-yet-thrilling rides built by McGucket from scratch, incredible fireworks, all the rich-people stuff you can think of--and it's all 100% free. It's way over the top.

And then there's August 24th. It doesn't have a name, and people don't talk about it much, but on that day every summer, people get potluck dishes prepared and just get together in the town square with food and bonfires and togetherness. The friendlier anomalies are welcome too, and everyone tells stories that don't get told any other day of the year--stories about a red sky, and fighting for your lives, and monsters and madness and miracles. There are folk songs, and triangles are burned in effigy. The Pines Family are always warmly welcomed there.

The last party of the year is the Mystery Twins' birthday, which is another big day at the Shack. It's always a little sad, because it means the end of summer and the imminent departures of most of the Pineses, but it's also a happy celebration.

...Turns out my headcanons are mostly about parties.

I'm good with that.

#thanks again! i had fun writing out the Gravity Falls Summer Calendar especially #an-aspiring-jester #asks #gravity falls #ask game

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victoria-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Nine: Challenges

AN: This story has really blown up it’s amazing, not to mention my follower count! I appreciate everyone’s support, you don’t know how much it means to me to see my notifications going crazy from all of you. Again, just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist below.

Word Count: 5.8k

Trigger Warnings: body negativity, unresolved trauma, mentions of KKK terrorism, mentions of The Holocaust

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

It was early morning at the Xavier Mansion and I just finished my morning cup of coffee, when I began walking around the mansion. The sound of light clinking could be heard from Hank's lab and I peeped my head in to see him peering down a microscope. I raised my fist and briskly rapped on the lab door which startled Hank in his chair. He looked up from the instrument and flashed me a shy smile.

I entered the lab and crossed my arms together, "What are you doing up so early?" I asked, sliding onto a stool across from Hank.

"Oh, you know how the saying goes, the early bird gets the worm," Hank answered, letting out a nervous chuckle.

I cocked my eyebrow, but didn't say anything as I stretched myself out, "Well, Hank you can have all them," I quipped, with a smile on my face.

"Why are you up?" he questioned, shifting in his seat.

"My body woke up and I couldn't go back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried to force myself," I answered shrugging, as my eyes did a quick glance at the microscope in front of me. "You know Hank, I've been wondering about something," I stated, placing both my arms on the table.

"And what would that be?"

"This serum you're making. It doesn't affect abilities right? Just appearance? Normalizes it?" I questioned him and he gave a small nod. "Why do you hate your mutation so much?" I asked inquisitively.

"Well, where to start? I have huge monkey feet, they're an eyesore to look at," Hank explained darkly, looking down at his shoes.

"Don't!" I scold him and he looked up at me in surprise. "Never say that about yourself Hank. I'm sure there are benefits to your mutation," I commented, trying to get him to see a bright side. "All mutations do," I added, nodding my head.

Hank scoffed slightly, "Like what? Earning another demeaning nickname?" he deadpanned, placing his hands on the table.

"It's not like you're alone in this," I pointed out, but Hank still looked at me unsurely.

"But you have an amazing gift Claudia. You are extremely lucky," Hank reasoned.

"Hey, even the best of powers can have cons," I tell him in an off handed tone. "For most of my life I thought my empathy was a curse. I hated it," I added, balling my fist up.

"Okay, so explain it to me. You asked me so I'll ask you," Hank began. "Why would you hate your abilities?" he questioned.

I sit up straight and fold my leg underneath me, "Once upon a time I wasn't fully in control of my empathic and telekinetic powers. With me, I get emotions, and emotions are real whether they truly are or not. I become the person in a way so much deeper than a telepath could. I am not them, but I am no longer me," I explained, pausing so I could catch my breath. "It was exhausting, the constant migraines I had, not to mention the shields I built to block everyone's emotions worked sporadically," I continued, looking down at the black top of the table. "You have no idea what it's like to be afraid of the damage that you could potentially do because of the powers your born with. But...all of that changed when I met him...my mentor," I finished, looking back up at Hank with a slight frown on my face.

"It sounds as though you don't care for him very much,"

"That's the thing I shouldn't like him, but yet in some twisted way, I owe him everything," I confided quietly. "If it weren't for him, I would have never been able to master my abilities. Hell, even when he was mentoring me I think we just scratched the surface of what I can do. It's probably for the best though, who knows what kind of trouble I would've gotten into or caused," I stated, a mirthless laugh escaping my lips.

"But you could never hurt anyone, you're too kind," Hank insisted, as if it was obvious. I let out a faint laugh, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why did you laugh at that?" Hank questioned.

"Very rarely have I been called 'kind', that's why I laughed. It's just nice to hear it for a change," I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

Hank nodded his head understandingly and we sat in a comfortable silence. My eyes moved from Hank to the window behind him, my eyes focusing on the magnificent array of gold and pink that colored the landscape before me. It was strange, to be able to slightly let my guard down and become relaxed around Hank, or anyone in the mansion and let them get to know me more. It felt nice to finally have friends.

I focused my gaze back to Hank only to find that he was looking down awkwardly at the floor.

"What is it?" I asked with concern, he fumbled about with his hands not sure to say.

"Claudia, while I sympathize with your plight and what you've gone through, it's still different. I mean, even though you're a mutant your still beautiful, people can't see your mutation and they wouldn't think of you as a freak. They would see you as a goddess," he spoke stubbornly.

"Thank you Hank, I'm flattered," I chuckled, a gentle smile gracing my face. "But I can tell you that not everyone in this world holds that same sentiment," I informed him with a small laugh.

"Well then their blind," Hank stated, a chuckle escaping his lips. He momentarily dropped his stare down to the table before he looked back at me. "Look Claudia, I-uh, I promised myself that I'd find a cure ever since I was a little boy," Hank went on. "And I'm glad you don't care what my feet look like, but it's how I feel," Hank told me with a sigh, the two of us glance at the blood sample that Hank was studying.

Unfolding my leg I stood up from my stool and waltzed over to him, "You know Hank, you're quite stubborn," I mused, letting out a sigh of my own. "But it's your choice," I added smiling, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, "Thank you," he replied, a sigh of relief escaping him.

I pulled him into a side hug, "That doesn't mean I don't like it though," I muttered, making Hank chuckle.

~~~x~~~

Wearily, I trudged to the door and opened it to find the hallway almost leering at me, like it was speaking to me. Shaking it off, I stepped out into the even chillier air and made my way down to the lab from hell where the devil incarnate himself was waiting for me. I do not have the energy for this today, then again…when have I ever? When I heard him demanding me to be in the lab in two minutes or to suffer the consequences, I considered staying in my room, wanting to aggravate him, but decide against it. I didn’t want to stretch it too terribly much. So, on shaky legs I continued my miserable journey to the basement of-

"Claudia," my head snapped to the side at the sound of my name being called, my eyes slightly wide. Blue eyes and dark hair. Charles. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, standing next to me. "You had a faraway look in your eyes," he commented. "And you also started to make some items in here levitate," Charles added quietly.

He opened his mouth again to speak, but all I could hear was my blood pumping in my veins and I closed my eyes tightly to try and calm down, my head swimming with images of my past. My eyes glanced back over to the window I was in front of and stared through the glass pane, it promised to be a beautiful day. Clear skies, temperature below 60, but still warm enough for us to enjoy. I wasn't there now. I was here. Here, staying in a house that belonged to Charles Xavier. I was as far away from that life as humanely possible. I would never do anything I didn't want to do ever again.

"Claudia?"

I looked over to Charles again, "I'm fine," I breathed, not even realizing that my fingernails were digging into my palms until Charles gently took my right fist and pried it open before doing the same with my left. "I was just...thinking. That's all," I answered, flashing him a faux smile.

It was another skill I mastered over the years, hiding my true emotions. If I were to let them show, people would see me as weak. I turned around fully to see Erik and Moira already staring at me, both of them with different expressions. Moira was visibly concerned, while Erik's lips were pressed together creating a thin line. His eyes, they were guarded, as if he wasn't certain what to think of this situation. Or maybe Erik was always like this. It's hard to tell with him.

I looked back over to Charles, "Please, continue," I stated, motioning my hand for him to speak.

Charles gave me a slight nod and cleared his throat, "As I was previously saying, the wings aren't ready yet. Hank has informed me that he has to put the last touches on them today," he announced, looking between the three of us.

"What wings?" I thought.

Moira ran a hand through her straight brown locks, "It's no secret that Sean has a talent for destroying property, but isn't it counterproductive to throw him out a window of what we're trying to accomplish here?" Moira asked, with slight confusion.

"Wait, we're throwing Sean out of a window?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "I would also love to know the logic behind this," I stated, a grin now on my face.

"Charles and Hank apparently think he can fly," Moira explained, looking at me.

I folded my arms together, "Unless I'm mistaken, Sean's only power is his supersonic scream," I reminded, staring at the telepath. "How does flying coincide with his ability?" I asked curiously.

"It's the sound waves that Sean emits," Charles began. "When his sound waves hit supersonic they'll carry him," Charles finished.

"Interesting," I nodded my head, I slowly turned back around and stared out of the window again. My attention focused on the towering satellite on Charles' land, as I lifted my right thumb to my lip, sensing that this conversation was over.

"Charles, I've been meaning to ask more about your ideas for training," Moira announced, standing up from her seat.

"Ah, yes! I would love to talk about that," Charles answered happily, I could envision his eyes lighting up at the opportunity to discuss his ideas. "We'll talk it over a cup of tea, yes?" he proposed.

"Sounds lovely," Moira agreed.

I heard the two of of them leaving the room, but didn't bother turning around. My eyes were still trained outside, softly biting my thumb. How did I let this happen to me? I thought I was over of what happened in the past. All it took was me to mention him and suddenly the band-aid that was placed on my wound was ripped off and I'm back to being to that frightened girl I once was.

"Are you alright, Claudia?" Erik asked, breaking me out of my reverie. I didn't say anything or look his way. Just nodded. Suddenly, he was in front of me, and I inhaled deeply, and I involuntarily took a step back. "Look at me," he said gently, and I refused to do so. That was until I felt two rough, calloused fingers lift my chin. "Something troubles you Claudia, I don't need to be a mind reader to know that. Your posture and your face are all the evidence I need," Erik finished, as my brown eyes met his blue ones.

"I'm fine," I answered, pushing his hand away. "Just like I said earlier," I insisted, before turning around to leave the room as well.

I was not in the mood to talk. Not about this.

At the doorway of Charles' study I stopped, "Stop fretting over me Erik, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack," I warned, before walking into the hallway.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I spotted my shape-shifting friend turning down the same hallway I was.

"Afternoon Raven," I greeted, mustering up a small smile on my face. Raven didn't return my warm expression as she walked past me, and I cocked my head while furrowing my eyebrows. I turned on my heel and stared at her back. "Raven!" I called, walking at a quick speed to catch up with her as she went down another hallway. "Hey!" I called again, this time grasping her arm. "Have I done something to upset you?" I asked, releasing her arm.

"I just don't understand why you are doing what you're doing," Raven murmured.

"What?" I asked, my face scrunched up in confusion.

"I get that you and Charles have a thing going on, but why isn't that good enough for you?" Raven asked lowly, but the anger was evident in her voice. I scoffed as she finally turned around to face me. "You know, I've been noticing that you and Erik have been acting too friendly to be just friends and you just brushed it off saying it was nothing. But now it seems you turned sights on Hank-"

I waved my hands in the air, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I interjected, my eyes widening at Raven's accusation. "Raven, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips. "If you're insinuating what I think you are, first of all how dare you! Second of all, I am most certainly not doing what you're accusing of me of," I stated, defending myself. "Where did this all come from? I thought we were friends!" I reminded, crossing my arms against my chest.

"It's just that, that," Raven began, but ended up letting out a frustrated groan and running a hand through her long, blonde hair.

My face softened and reached my arm out to Raven and gently grabbed her arm, "What is bothering you, Raven?" I asked, the anger inside of me ebbing away as I was truly curious what made her have such an outburst towards me.

"You are! You're so perfect," Raven sighed, frustration written all over her face. "Perfect face, perfect powers, perfect body," she listed, almost spitefully.

"Oh, come on Raven, nobody is perfect," I corrected gently, forcing back a smile as I thought back to when Charles and I were discussing the same thing. "I have my imperfections just like everyone else," I assured, giving her arm a slight squeeze.

"Where are they, because I don't see them," Raven disagreed, shaking her head and then crossing her arms. "You're just saying that to make me feel better," she grumbled.

I smiled slightly, "Truly, I am not," I replied, shaking my head. I exhaled deeply. "Well, I hope yelling at me got whatever that was plaguing you out," I mused, crossing my arms again.

Raven put her head in her hands, "I'm sorry," she sighed, lifting her head back up to face me. "It's just that I saw and heard you with Hank this morning and my mind just created so many stupid scenarios," Raven explained, her face flushed with embarrassment. "And then I saw you and Erik, but I turned ar-" she rambled on.

"I'm sorry Raven, but I'm beginning to notice a pattern here," I chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "Are you following me around?" I asked, my expression turning serious now.

"No!" Raven exclaimed quickly. "Well, at least not on purpose. This morning I went to check on Hank's progress with the serum and then I saw you two hugging and just now I saw you and Erik very close to each other," she explained, lowering her gaze to the decorative rug covering the wooden floor. "Just like when you were sparring," the blonde added quietly, before raising her eyes to meet mine.

"Look Raven, despite what you think I do not have an objective of being with every man in the house, okay? The mansion is predominantly male, so yes, it's going to be more common that I'm talking to someone of the opposite gender," I explained, placing my hands on hips. "Makes sense now?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Raven nodded her head, "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Dia," Raven apologized again. "I can't believe I was that stupid to even think that of you," she groaned, hiding her face in her hands temporarily. Raven uncovered her face, "C'mon, let me make you lunch. It's the least I can do," Raven offered, letting out a laugh.

"It certainly is,"

~~~x~~~

"You know what I just adore about you, my dear Claudia? I can break you every night, and you'll still be a viable subject by the next morning,"

I threw punches at the punching bag as if the source of all my bottled up pain was actually here, standing right in front of me. I struck the bag as fast and hard as I could attempting to release all my pent up frustration. Why won't these god forsaken memories just disappear from my mind. I was angry. Frustrated. Upset. Ashamed. Embarrassed. My behavior was unacceptable. I was a broken, scared little girl. I was pathetic. I could never help save the world.

I was so fucking weak.

Never ending questions nagged at my brain as I furiously punched, ignoring the blood dripping off my knuckles.

"Claudia, stop before I make you stop," a velvety voice from behind me ordered.

I turned my head slightly and there stood Erik in his grey sweatsuit, "I'm fine," I stated simply wiping my knuckles on my pants, and positioning myself to continue training once more.

Erik stepped in front of the punching bag, grabbed my wrists in a firm, but not painful grip and pulled me into him, his steely blue eyes gazing intently into my own assessing me like a predator would it's prey.

"You had a thousand yard stare earlier, slightly lost control of your telekinesis, and now your beating a punching bag until your fists are raw and bloody," Erik pointed out, glancing at my bloodied fists. "And you honestly think that you're fine?" he asked, arching a brow and dropping my hands.

"Didn't I tell you to stop worrying about me?" I asked back, annoyed that he wouldn't leave well enough alone.

"But that's what friends do, we worry about each other," Erik informed, folding his arms together. "You would do the same for me, I hope," he added, a small smile forming on his lips.

I took a deep breath and slowly nodded in agreement.

"Come on, I'll clean those up for you," Erik said simply, leading me out of the gym and into a small white room which looked like a small medical bay he lead me over to sink and carefully cleaned my wounds then applied some anesthetic cream. "Sorry if it hurts," he apologized quietly, surprising me with his thoughtfulness. I found myself unintentionally smiling to myself. "What's so funny?" Erik questioned, finishing up with the bandages.

"It's just that...when we first met, I thought you were the biggest asshole known to man," I began, a ghost of grin on my lips. "But now I know that's not true, it's good to know that you're a nice man after all," I finished, pushing off from the sink.

"You think I'm a nice guy, I'm flattered truly I am," Erik replied cheekily. "Any other first impressions you had about me that I should know about?" Erik questioned, arching his brow in amusement while walking out of the door.

"Well, I also thought you were pretty handsome," I started, and Erik' face lit up with what looked like amusement. "But your personality soon negated all of your attractiveness," I added, with a smirk on my lips as I left the small room as well.

Suddenly Erik lifted me up and spun me around.

"Erik! Stop! Friends don't do this!" I said between laughs while attempting to escape his grasp.

"Some friends do!" he countered with a wink. "Now with me being a friend to Claudia, I have to wonder where the real Claudia is. Two compliments within a minute apart, I find that suspicious," Erik remarked, and let out a laugh.

"Erik! Put me down right now!" I scolded, with a smile on my face even though I hated the fact I'd lost control of the situation so easily. From over Erik's shoulder I saw Charles at the end of the hallway with a raised eyebrow. "Charles!" I called, a smile still on my face. "My knight in shining armor, come save me!" I exclaimed, reaching my arm out towards Charles and laughing.

"Don't listen to her Charles, this is just a lookalike. She has been too kind to me today, this can't possibly be the Claudia we know!" Erik claimed, his laughter vibrating against me.

Charles chuckled as well as he followed behind us, "You know Erik, I think you might be on to something," he agreed, smiling at me.

"Charles!" I called again, my mouth opened in shock that he took Erik's side instead of mine and Charles just shrugged an amused expression still on his face. I rolled my eyes and grinned myself before turning my attention back to the metal bender carrying me to the living room. "Hey, let me go!" I ordered, lightly hitting Erik's back with my fist.

"Fine," the metal bender answered simply.

In an instant, I landed hard on the floor with a thud. I watched as Erik walked down the hallway laughing all the way. He dropped me? He knew exactly what I meant when I told him to put me down. The audacity of him to do that. I'd show him, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will have the last laugh.

Charles extended his hand out towards me, "It seems you've taken a tumble, my dear," he remarked smiling.

I grabbed it and hopped to my feet, "Yeah, no thanks to that asshole," I commented, nodding my head in the direction of Erik.

"Ah, it seems we were wrong," Charles began with a chuckle. "There's the Claudia we know," he finished, leading me into the living room and I rolled my eyes again.

I spotted Erik standing with a relaxed posture, his hands in his pockets as he waited for Charles and I. He smirked at me and I just slid my index finger across my throat.

"Well, since the two of you are here, I wanted to test an idea out I had with your powers," Charles started, looking at me. "Claudia, I've been thinking about your empathic powers. We know you can use your 'persuasive' ability on people verbally. I want you to inside Erik's mind and give him an order without speaking,"

"What do you want me to make him do?"

Charles hesitated and looked at Erik, "What do you feel comfortable doing?"

Erik thought for a moment, "Nothing that will cause me extreme bodily harm," he answered, giving me a knowing glance.

Fine, I'd think of something else. I closed my eyes and lifted my mental shields as the confusion, curiousness, and a hint of tiredness sparked through my mind from Erik's. An idea popped in my head and I smiled to myself. I opened my eyes and stared at Erik unflinchingly which he returned, I cocked my head to the side and began my work with Erik's brain.

"You're feeling tired," I began. "Very tired," I added.

Erik let out a yawn as I furrowed my brow in concentration.

"You feel dead on your feet, you should have a seat right now," I suggested. "The chair behind you is just calling your name," I continued.

I pushed my suggestion into his head and Erik squatted down as if to sit down on the chair. But there wasn't a chair, so he fell to the floor on his ass. Erik looked up at me and glared.

I smiled triumphantly, "It's what you deserve," I stated, content with myself.

Charles was happy as well, "Excellent!" he cheered, before holding his hand out to Erik to helping him back to his feet.

"Am I done being the test dummy?" Erik asked, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Yes, you were a great help just now," Charles answered cheerfully, Erik shot me one last glare before he left and I stuck my tongue at him childishly. "A bit of fresh air will do the body good, don't you think?" Charles questioned, sticking his hand for me to leave the room first.

"I do," I concurred, making my way out of the room and towards the doors that led to the stone deck.

I pushed the door opened and the fresh late afternoon almost evening air was such a relief. An immense amount of sudden stress completely wiped me out already. The door behind me closed with a soft click from Charles and walked over next to me.

"What happened to your hands Claudia?" Charles asked, grabbing a hold of them and softly running his thumb across my knuckles.

"I got carried away with the punching bag, that's all. Please don't work up a sweat about me, I just had some steam to blow off," I explained, a reassuring smile on my lips.

Charles' brow furrowed as he looked out into the sprawling greenery that almost resembled the gardens of Versailles. The cool October breeze wrapped around us quite heavily as it sent chills down my spine and blew black strands of hair across my face. Charles noticed how my body reacted from the breeze and quickly took his jacket off and placed around my shoulders.

"Claudia," Charles started, giving his jacket a quick tug making sure I was snug within it. "I want you to know that whatever is bothering you, you don't have to face it alone," he reminded gently.

"What makes you think something is bothering me?" I asked, looking up at him.

"You haven't been your usual self, I mean I've barely heard a witty comment from you all day," he pointed out, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

"It's better that I do though, you know, when it comes to facing my own problems alone," I answered, before looking over at the gardens as well. "I've done it for years now, what's a few more weeks going to change?" I inquired, shrugging my shoulders before turning my attention back to him.

"Everything," Charles answered, placing each of his hands on my shoulders looking straight into my eyes. "It could change everything, Claudia," Charles repeated, rubbing soothing circles on my biceps before his hands slid down my arms.

~~~x~~~

I laid wide awake in bed, my eyes spacing out, my mind somewhere else, I had been awakened by a dream. Not a dream, exactly, more a memory of a rain made of ashes. The stomach-churning scent of the burning bodies still scorched my nostrils whenever I thought about it. I saw a young boy in ragged striped pajamas and there was also a woman who appeared to be middle aged, but she looked so much older than she should. She was filthy and was in ragged pajamas, just like the boy. And there was a man, a man who looked all too familiar...

That's when I heard something. A creaking of sort. I sat up softly, and my eyes glued onto the door, as the sound grew louder, and soon I knew clearly it was footsteps. I got up and hesitated by my door, until the muffled noises were faint. Creeping out my door, I followed the suspect as I caught their shadow turning to the left in the hallway.

With quiet steps, and making sure to be in line with the shadows, I stalked behind whoever it was. Soon I was close enough to try and take out the figure's features. My night vision not being very strong. But before I could even make out their face, a voice spoke.

"I should have known you would follow me," It was hollow, and low.

I stepped into the speck of light the gleaming moon gave off, "Sorry. I was curious as to why you would be up and lurking around past midnight," I responded to Erik, and moved forth towards him.

"Could not sleep. But I should be asking you the same," he stated gravely.

I shrugged, "Got a lot on my mind," I explained lamely.

We stood there, giving moments of awkward silence, then he began to slip away towards the kitchen. His movement gave me a beckoning signal to follow him. Once there, he dug in the fridge, and tugged out a bottle of beer. He glanced over at me once I sat on the island counter watching him. "Want one?" He asked.

I scoffed at him, my brows raised, and expression saying 'seriously?'.

"I'm too much of a lady to drink beer," I quipped.

A soft chuckle erupted from him and he shook his head, as he pulled out a bottle of pop for me. I gladly took it, and he popped off the caps of both drinks. The two of us taking a swig of our bottles.

"So, what was life like for you before Charles and I hunted you down and dragged you here against your will?" Erik asked, his back leaned against the island beside me, as his eyes roamed over the pictures hanging on the wallpapered walls.

I glanced down at my bottle, my right index finger tracing the rim of the bottle, as I stayed mute after hearing his question. It was a long enough silence to notify him, and let him glimpse over at me.

"Or...don't answer my question," he muttered brashly.

I gave a soft sigh, "I lived in South Carolina until I was five, my grandpa was murdered by the KKK, they bombed his bookstore. It was a miracle that I survived," I began, Erik looked over at me, a sympathetic expression painted on his face. "Then we moved to Pennsylvania, and that's what I considered to be home for me. After I graduated high school, I moved to D.C. and attended college. I graduated and now I'm living the ‘American Dream’ the best that a black woman can," I explained, purposefully excluding certain events that I wasn't ready to share. "Nothing quite special about my life, Erik," I added, before taking another swig of my drink.

"I'm sorry about your grandfather, Claudia," Erik apologized, placing his beer down. "But I know there's more to your story than that. I know there is something or someone from your past that you're running from. Trust me, I know all the signs," he argued softly, and my throat felt awfully dry because of the statement. "If you don't want to tell me about your past, fine. But answer this question for me. Why are you up?" Erik asked again. "And don't tell me another terrible lie," he added.

I sighed, staring into my drink, before answering, seemingly measuring my words, "Sometimes my walls come down when I sleep deeply enough, so my empathy is open. When people have nightmares or sleep fitfully, it can wake me up if the emotional signature is strong enough," I shrugged, a bit embarrassed.

Erik froze, "Do you ever...um...see what people dream?" he scratched the back of his head, projecting nonchalance.

My brown eyes narrowed in speculation on the opening of my bottle, "It depends on if the nightmare is strong enough," I set the bottle down, my eyes sympathetic. "Usually what I see is so fractured that I don't understand it,"

He grunted in his throat in acquiescence, staring at the tabletop, "I've always wondered why Charles never wakes up,"

I shrugged, "Maybe his shields can't drop," I suggested. "He probably made them that way for when he sleeps or needs to block everything, he's had more practice than I. Then again, he's a telepath, so he's working to block thoughts and dreams and such. A person can hide what they think, but rarely can they hide what they feel," I informed.

"That sounded textbook," Erik smirked in humor.

I shrugged, "Probably was," I agreed laughing.

We stood in silence for a moment, before my eyes fell upon his left arm and I noticed the small black numbers. He followed my eyes and extended it fully toward me. The numbers stood out before me almost screaming at me about the pain this man has been through.

"He hurt you, didn't he? Shaw did," I stated bravely, looking up from his arm.

"You...You saw what I dreamed of, didn't you?" Erik questioned, returning my stare and I silently nodded.

"Sorry," I whispered apologetically, and he just mimicked my nod. "H-How old were you?" I asked quietly. "When-When'd it happen?" I asked again, glancing at his arm.

"I was eleven,"

"Eleven?" I echoed, in shock. "That's so young," I breathed.

"You became a bomb survivor at the age of five," Erik reminded grimly, shaking his head.

Neither of us spoke for several long moments before I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear uncomfortably.

"There was a woman that I saw," I recalled. "Who was she?" I questioned, folding my arms together.

"My mother," he answered, staring at me.

I stood staring back at him unsure of what to say or if I wanted to ask the question that was now burning in the back of my mind. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it and breathed deeply.

"How did she die, if you don't mind me asking?" I asked softly.

"My family and I were put in a concentration camp, as you know," Erik said quietly. His usual calm demeanor had dropped and now he was sad, almost angry. "It was there were Shaw shot my mother point blank and it was there where I discovered my ability," he answered, his mouth forming a thin line.

I couldn't even imagine witnessing your mother being shot point blank in front of you. It was completely unthinkable and horribly wrong. I shuddered at the thought of him witnessing such a thing.

"I'm sorry, I can't...can't even begin to imagine it,"

As if a sudden electric bolt of realization hit me, I was now aware of why I had woken up suddenly, feeling so...angry, so thirsty for vengeance. It was because Erik wanted Shaw so badly. It was the simple thought of revenge. He wanted to avenge his mother's death to finally be at peace with himself and with the thought of his mother's horrific death.

He blamed himself, but he shouldn't.

I placed a hand on Erik's shoulder for comfort, "We're going to get him," I promised, looking into his blue eyes with a determined stare and he raised his hand covering mine and gave it a soft squeeze.

"There was a never doubt that we wouldn't,"

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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companionship · 3 years

Text

okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

#vincenzo #tvn vincenzo #this was cathartic #if u made it to the end here's ur kiss #this is more for archival purposes than anything #also this is what happens when my best friends arent caught up yet and i have no outlet

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emsxworld · 4 years

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NEW CHAPTER!! 😊

Two scenes in this chapter were inspired by art created by @negativesd09 and @emkayoh, I have linked their work in the end notes.

....

Ever since Peter Anthony Stark was born, he had become the definition of a Daddy’s boy, plain and simple. Perhaps it was because he shared two of his names with his father, or perhaps it was because his father had been there to take care of him and love him when his mother could not – whatever it was, one thing was for certain, Peter Stark absolutely adored him.

He was always smiling and giggling in delight when his Daddy was in the room. His first word had been ‘Dada’ and his first steps had been to toddle towards his astonished father when the mansion’s A.I notified the billionaire of the new progression occurring in the child’s nursery.

There was nothing Tony Stark could do wrong in Peter’s eyes. At times, he was the only one who saw through the protective layers the genius had built over the years to see the loveable; (for lack of a better word) dorky side to the apparent well put together billionaire and business tycoon.

Tony Stark wasn’t like his father. From the first time he held his new born son in his arms and gazed down in awe at the perfect little face with the tiny upturned nose, fingernails the size of a grain of rice and two beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes (an identical pigment to his own irises), he knew that he would not be Howard. He would not let his child feel neglected, worthless and the symbolism of disappointment as he had been growing up in the spotlight.

The love he had for Peter was indescribable, but those closest to him could see the irreparable bond Tony shared with his child. They were inseparable and so alike, not just in looks, but in their shared curiosity and urge to learn more, to thrive on in their own creative roots. Neither Pepper, Rhodey or Happy would ever deny that Tony was an excellent father. He had changed since Peter had arrived. The drinking and all-nighters were a relic of the past.

Now, Peter was the centre of the billionaire’s world. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the little boy who shared his eyes and his high IQ had wormed his way into the billionaire’s closed heart and Tony knew deep down that he could not live without Peter. One of the best parts about being a father was seeing the pure admiration and adoration in his child’s eyes and it was very clear even from the early days when the young Stark couldn’t even form words, that Peter felt exactly the same.

There was only one problem with this mutual strong connection the father and son shared. Peter had separation anxiety. He was incredibly susceptive to physical affection, which was all his father’s fault because the man couldn’t resist kissing those cute chubby cheeks and mop of curls on a daily basis whenever he cuddled his kid in his arms.

At the age of four, Peter hadn’t changed apart from growing a little taller and expanding his knowledge with the genius mind he had inherited from his father. He was still as adorable as ever and Tony just couldn’t resist the inevitable urge to swing his little one into the air, heart swelling with love as the boy squealed and giggled in infectious delight at the playful action, before bringing him down and planting small kisses all over his little face like there was no tomorrow. This type of hyper scene occurred on a daily basis and it was no wonder that Peter often craved this indulgent affection as he had been raised to expect it.

Tony had been brought in a cold household with a detached and distant father. The only affection he received was from his mother and JARVIS, therefore as far as he was concerned he was entitled to ensure his own son knew that he was loved and cherished. Tony had very rarely experienced the tender, intimate moments he shared with his child when he was Peter’s age. He read to Peter, played with him, made him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and did everything with his son that Howard had missed out on.

As aforementioned, the only problem with his parenting style was that Peter couldn’t stand to be parted from him. Tony always dreaded the inevitable business meetings where he was required to be out of Malibu a couple nights at a time, because he knew his kid would be unhappy and there was nothing he could do to sway him.

His son loved Pepper, his Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy, but they weren’t his Daddy and no-body would ever be able to live up to the standards that his father had set. Tony never admitted it out loud, but the truth was that he hated being separated from his son too, even if it was easily perceived by Pepper when she witnessed first-hand how jittery and reserved the genius became when he couldn’t be with Peter.

It just so happened that another business meeting was just around the corner yet again. Both he and Pepper were meant to be there, and Rhodes was busy with his duties for the army, so that just left Happy to watch Peter whilst Tony was away for his eleven o’clock slot.

Happy was fond of Peter, but he wasn’t naturally attuned to children’s wants and needs and he often grumbled under his breath when he thought the others couldn’t hear when the little boy would cry or would enter his ‘bratty’ phase. It was very rare for Peter to do this, but it happened, as it did with all four-year olds from time to time.

Tony was keen to keep his boy distracted and entertained for the morning before he would have to leave. He had told Peter about the meeting when he went to wake him up early that morning with a gentle, warm hand stroking his son’s back to rouse him from his slumber and a soft kiss to his curls. The boy was too lethargic to properly take the meaning behind his father’s words in and had mumbled some incoherent words at the mention of the business meeting, before rolling onto his back and snuggling into the man’s sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Daddy’s neck.

Tony huffed a laugh at the gesture, well used to Peter being pretty unresponsive and even more clingy when he first woke up and the billionaire was only too obliged to hold his kiddo close and carry him to the kitchen to make some blueberry pancakes together and forget their worries. Heading down to the lab was the next point on the agenda.

The workshop underneath the main floor of the mansion was their favourite place. It had always been Tony’s main area of expertise, of course, as it allowed him to indulge in his genius ideas and creations and it was where he felt most at home.

As Peter was his little shadow, naturally that meant that the father had had to make a few changes to the lab to ensure it was safe for a baby to be in. The soft foamed area specifically designed for Peter, created by Tony, had been installed soon after his kid begun to display a certain neediness to be with his Daddy nearly twenty-four seven.

Peter didn’t spend all his time in his highly efficient playpen though. That was only reserved for times when his father was working on something dangerous like tasering some loose wires or working with small intricate designs which required tiny bolts and gadgets that were liable for little feet to accidentally tread on. Peter spent many a time in his father’s arms when the man wasn’t working with his hands, sitting in his Daddy’s lap and basking in the warmth and comfort that only a parent could provide.

When his son was a baby, Tony would often sit cross-legged on the floor, cradling the little one in his arms and browsing through online articles and profiles about particular topics and public figures. Peter loved the blue glow that came from the screens that seemed to float in mid-air…

…

…“Da!” The baby chirped, waving one small chubby arm at a photo of an old car model from the 1960s which the billionaire was interested in buying.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, lifting his son so he was standing on the man’s legs to see the picture better. “What do you think, Pete? A worthy investment?” He asked, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s fuzzy chestnut curls.

Peter didn’t answer with any coherent words, but he babbled enthusiastically whilst waving his little fist, drool trailing down his chin.

The father deciphered that the only reason why his kid was drawn to this 1967 Shelby Cobra model was because it was blue. It was the colour of Peter’s nursery walls, even though this was a royal blue instead of the sky shade his room boasted, but it was smart lick of paint, Tony would give it that.

“A fitting endorsement if I ever saw one,” the billionaire remarked, tilting his chin to place a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head, before leaning round the small body to wipe away the trail of drool with the sleeve of his long-sleeved Metallica top. The baby squirmed and wriggled but didn’t whimper as he was used to the man fretting over him. “You’re a little dork, you know?” He teased.

Peter’s little face broke into a big slobbery grin at his father’s playful tone and the tickly feeling of the beard which was scratching against the side of his face as the man leaned close to him.

He burst into a fit of giggles, Tony’s favourite sound in the world, which spurred him to grin and snigger at how perfect his little boy really was, nuzzling his face against Peter’s and scattering loads of small kisses all over his baby’s face.

“Yeah, you’re a crazy monkey, aren’t you? Crazy baby,” Tony joked between kisses, heart swelling with warmth when his kid squealed with laughter and wriggled even more.

Peter babbled some other incoherent words, but his delighted laughter was enough. Tony chuckled, warmly, rubbing his face against the little tuft of hair and closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple scented shampoo he had applied the night before and something that was distinctly Peter.

“Love you, baby,” the father murmured after a few moments once the boy’s infectious giggles had reduced and the gummy smile was all that remained. Peter snuffled and cooed, nuzzling into the man’s warmth and the two remained down in the lab for the rest of the day.

Pepper found them a few hours later in a rather unresponsive state. Tony was splayed out in the playpen, top discarded beside him and Peter was lying on his bare chest.

Both were sleeping soundly, cute little snuffles escaping the baby as he nuzzled into the spot right above his father’s heart and the man’s hand was resting protectively on the child’s back, jaw slackened in his relaxed state but the steady grip on his son never faltering.

Pepper downright cooed at the sight and immediately asked JARVIS to take a photo and a video; smirking when he replied with an almost response that could almost be described as fond (even though it was technically an AI): “I already have, Miss Potts.”

…

Tony loved that picture. He had plenty of photos in a file named ‘Peter Anthony Stark’, where JARVIS had been like his own personal cameraman; always being there to capture the moments, but that photo definitely had to be in the billionaire’s top five that they had collected over the past four years.

Lab time was still special, especially as Peter was big enough now to sit at his own desk and work on drawings or small DIY projects, whilst the genius tinkered a few feet away. It was the perfect way to keep his kid occupied for the morning until Happy arrived.

After devouring the blueberry pancakes, Tony scooped Peter up into his arms, licking his finger and wiping away the syrup which had spilled down the boy’s chin.

“Okay, I know you love your old man’s cooking like a champ, but you wanna try actually getting it in your mouth next time, buddy?” Tony teased, light-heartedly, tickling underneath his kid’s chin, eliciting approving giggles from the little boy as he squirmed uncontrollably in his father’s hold. “You crazy demon child,” the man remarked, indulgently, bouncing the boy on his hip and tickling across his little tummy as he wandered over to the staircase leading down to the lab.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Peter chirped, grinning from ear to ear and practically squealing when he realised where his father was leading them.

“Peter, Peter, Peter!” Tony replied on an instant, chuckling at the bright shine in his son’s doe eyes.

“Daddy, I wanna, I wanna dress up as you! I wanna be you!” He was vibrating with excitement, bouncing a couple of times as he was barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

“Really? You wanna look like Daddy today?” Tony commented in mirth, smirking at his kid as he typed the pass code into the security panel. Peter was currently in his space themed pyjama top and bottoms, but he had his trainers on just in case there were sharp objects on the floor.

“Mhm! Wanna be like you!” Peter expressed, enthusiastically with a serene nod, as if it was the most ordinary, everyday request. It definitely was for the son of Iron Man.

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll muck about down here for a bit and then we’ll get you in your armour,” Tony joked, thinking about the Iron Man styled onesie hanging up in the boy’s wardrobe.

They didn’t do anything too complicated as it was still early, and Peter was still tired, even though one wouldn’t know it by looking at the ecstatic ball of energy, but Tony knew that it wouldn’t be long until he crashed with the way his crazy kid was going on. The genius asked JARVIS to play some soft pop music for background noise and he let Peter sit in his lap as he sat in front of the monitors and messed about on the internet and make notes on his upcoming projects for an hour or two.

It was getting closer to eleven and Tony’s heart sunk as he realised he would have to leave Peter soon, which was made even worse because of how perfect the morning had been up until this point. He wanted to make things as smooth as possible by keeping his son entertained, but it almost seemed to have backfired back onto the man since he would have to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood he had created.

Tony sighed, deeply, ruffling his son’s curls in the process from where his chin was resting on top of his head. He clicked off the document he had been working on and tilted his head to gaze down at his son, who was fiddling with an Iron Man action figure and one in the shape of an alien, making cute little “pow!” and “bang!” sounds as he made them fight each other.

The man brought his lips down and blew a small raspberry on the spot behind the boy’s ear, provoking him to snort and burst into peals of laughter, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Daddy silly!” He giggled.

Tony chuckled, warmly, hugging his kid close as he nuzzled his hair affectionately. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He watched on fondly as Peter played with his fingers where his hand was resting on the boy’s tummy. His hand looked so big on his child’s small body and the innocent curiosity displayed by someone so young was incredibly endearing to the elder.

“You wanna get dressed, buddy?” Tony murmured into his son’s curls after a couple moments of just watching his kid observe his hands like he was seeing them for the first time. It was adorable and Stark never thought that he would describe something like that in his entire life. Stark men didn’t create adorable things; somehow Peter existed.

“I be like you now?” The boy asked, peering up at him with an excited grin on his face, adoration for his father shining in his brown eyes and Tony couldn’t help but feel blessed.

He smiled, indulgently, bending to drop a kiss to his son’s fore-head. “Anytime you want, kiddo,” he chuckled, swinging the boy into the air playfully and blowing another raspberry on his little pudgy belly as the pyjama top rose up from the sudden move and Peter squealed in delight, kicking his legs in his exhilaration.

Before he had his baby, Tony hadn’t been one for physical affection or physical contact at all for that matter. He never liked people handing him things and it was always Happy, Pepper or Rhodes who dealt with the personal one to one contact with investors and journalists. He had become so accustomed to behaving this way that upon the discovery that he had fathered a child, his first reaction was fear. He rarely opened up to anybody and the idea that he suddenly had a tiny human being to care for and raise terrified him.

The incredible thing was that Peter made it easy. He had literally fallen in love. Pepper liked to joke that her boss had become smitten with his kid ever since he first laid eyes on him and Tony didn’t even have the heart to argue. All of it belonged to Peter and he wouldn’t know it yet, but in a few years, Pepper would enter his heart too and he would finally open up fully to someone other than his son.

Until then, Peter would be the sole receiver of Tony’s physical affections. That’s what made the whole leaving predicament so much harder, because Peter relied on him for so much and only Tony knew all the little details about what his son liked and disliked, what he was afraid of, what brought him the greatest joys in life…he could go on and on. Even though it physically pained the genius to hear his child crying for him, he knew that Peter couldn’t live like this forever and they would have to get used to living their own lives as the boy grew older.

Tony carried the little one to his bedroom, heart sinking and stomach churning with dread as he placed the boy on his feet beside his bed and headed over to the wardrobe to grab the Iron Man onesie. He wasn’t ready for the next conversation he had to have with the gleeful little boy currently bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of dressing up like his Daddy and blissfully believing that they were going to be spending the whole day together, but deep down the billionaire knew that it had to be done.

When he turned back around, he couldn’t help the warm smile that graced his features as his amusement caused the laugh lines around his dark eyes to crease and his lips to perk upwards, because Peter had taken the initiative to remove all of his clothes himself.

“You’re a terrific helper, buddy,” Tony chuckled, kneeling down to be at his son’s height so he could ask him to raise one leg to slip the onesie over his body, but he stopped to pull the boy’s underwear back up again. “Sorry, Pete, gotta keep yourself tucked away during the day,” he sniggered.

“Nuh uh! ‘m gonna be naked!” Peter giggled.

“Not gonna happen, pal. We want you to look your best for when Uncle Happy comes, right?” Tony said, pulling the onesie up over his kid’s shoulders and zipping it up. The comment left a bitter, sour taste in his mouth as it cemented the fact that he would be leaving his son in little more than half an hour.

“We goin’ out with Uncie Happy?” Lordy, this was going to be fun…

Tony smoothed the wrinkled fabric down and gently gripped the boy’s arms. “No, bud, you remember what I told you this morning when I woke you up? Your Uncle Happy is coming to spend some time with his favourite nephew whilst Daddy goes for his meeting,” he spoke softly and reassuringly, although it didn’t do him any favours because the moment his words left his lips, the boy’s face immediately scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled.

“No,” Peter whimpered. “Daddy stay with Peter.”

Jesus, the poor kid only now seemed to notice that the man was dressed smartly in one of his expensive suits.

Tony’s heart broke at his kid’s trembling voice and his little plea, as tears formed in his eyes. The father reached up with one hand to cup his child’s soft cheek and catch a fallen tear on his thumb as it fell.

“I’m sorry, baby, I wish I could. You know that I would stay and play with you all day if I didn’t have important work to see to,” the man explained.

“But Auntie Pep can do your work and you stay here?” Peter said, toying on his bottom lip with his pointer finger as his big doe eyes begged the man to stay with him. God, this kid was so damn smart, but he was so damn innocent still.

Despite the gloominess of the situation, Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at his kid’s optimism. “It’s not that simple, honey. Pepper isn’t the head of the company, so there are some things that she can’t do, but guess who can?”

“You,” the little boy mumbled, reaching up to rub at his nose as he sniffled.

The billionaire smiled, sadly, rubbing his hands up and down his son’s arms in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. “Exactly, buddy, good job. If I don’t show up, then I would get a big telling off and you wouldn’t want that to happen to Daddy, right?”

“No…”

Tony couldn’t stand the completely dejected look on his kid’s usually beaming face; it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. “C’mon, Petey, lemme see that billion-dollar smile,” he coaxed, tickling the boy’s ribs and under his arm pits, two sensitive areas which never failed to get the little one giggling hysterically.

Peter only fidgeted a bit at the move, a stubborn pout protruding on his lips and he crossed his arms to effectively stop his father’s tickling and the elder had no choice but to take his hands away and raise an eyebrow at his kid’s attitude.

“If you can’t stay with me, then Daddy take Peter with!” The boy suddenly announced, tone completely deadpan and leaving no room for argument.

It was quite the statement from a four year-old child, but it amused the father because his kid sounded so much like him. He was just as stubborn and enthusiastic once he got an idea in his head and Peter clearly thought that he had just come up with a brilliant idea, judging by the satisfied glint in his eye, refusing to back down.

“I don’t know about that, buddy.” He couldn’t stop the huge smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, hands gently resting on his son’s hips as he spoke. “A lot of business people don’t like kids, they’re nasty old men who don’t care about anyone, especially little boys like you. You wouldn’t want to sit in a boring room with dudes like that, would you?”

Peter shook his head, his determination not once wavering even if the idea of scary old people scrutinising him did give the child some sense of anxiety. He didn’t care, he only wanted to be with his Daddy.

“I be with Daddy, bad guys don’ matter,” he stated. His fierce attempt at a serious expression was adorable, if not slightly worrying to the concerned father.

Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows narrowing as he studied his kid for a moment in pure disbelief. He wasn’t usually left speechless by anybody and always managed to have the last word, but he was pretty much flawed. His four year-old had stunned him, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time Peter had done this, the little bugger had made him incredibly soft and Tony knew it.

He sighed through his nose, leaning forward to scoop the boy up into his arms, staring into his child’s eyes in admiration at his valiant efforts. He supported his son’s lower half with one arm as he playfully bopped his kid’s nose with the other hand, causing it to scrunch up as Peter giggled at the gesture.

“You’re incredible, Pete. Four years old and you’re already leaving your Dad lost for words, what is the world coming to, huh?” Tony spoke, jovially, shaking his head in wonder.

“Love Daddy!” Peter chirped, sweetly.

A soft look crossed the billionaire’s face, paternal love for his child glimmering in his chocolate brown eyes and he leaned forward to rub his nose against the boy’s, giving him an Eskimo kiss. Peter loved these kisses the most and he was in a fit of giggles immediately, squealing with delight at his father’s affections.

“Sir, Mr Hogan has arrived,” JARVIS suddenly announced. Perfect timing.

“Thanks, J,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s fore-head and making his way out of the boy’s room and down to the foyer. He braced the back of his kid’s head, allowing him to cuddle close since it was the least he could do, because he knew that he was in for one hell of a goodbye in a few moments.

Happy was just walking through the front door when father and son arrived, tucking the car keys into his pocket.

“Hey, Hap. Good drive?”

“As good as it can be. How’s the kid?” The driver asked, gaze drifting to the boy in his best friend’s arms. The sight certainly wasn’t anything new for him, especially when his boss had a business meeting.

“Sulking,” Tony smirked, bouncing his kid gently on his hip, who refused to move his face from the crook of the man’s neck.

“He been good his morning?”

“As good as he can be,” Tony retorted with a cheeky wink and a mischievous smirk. “Nah, he’s been great. He’s just a little cutie-pie, aren’t you, pal?” He spoke with a high lift in his voice, bouncing his kid and tickling across the boy’s rib cage, eliciting some high pitched squeals and bombastic laughter as Peter finally removed his face from the man’s neck.

“There he is, there’s my handsome little guy,” Tony beamed, pleased that his son was now smiling brightly. Speaking too soon… “Hey, Pete, Uncle Happy’s here, you wanna say hi?”

“Hey, buddy,” Happy greeted, walking up to the two with a kind smile.

“Hi, Uncie Happy!” Peter waved and reached over to give the driver a hug, Tony taking the opportunity to transfer the boy into the other man’s arms. Happy squeezed the child warmly and caught his friend’s eye, who smiled sadly and reached over to gently stroke his son’s hair.

Tony leaned in to press a quick kiss to the top of his kid’s head, murmuring in his ear, “See you soon, kiddo. Love you.”

He should have just left as soon as he placed Peter in Happy’s arms, because what followed was definitely all on him. He hated leaving his kid just as much as Peter detested it and it probably would have been better if he had just snuck out, so he didn’t have to put them both through the heavy emotions that came with their separation.

The moment the low goodbye left his lips, Peter suddenly burst into tears. His chest heaved dangerously with his heavy sobs and hitching breaths, both arms reaching out for Tony desperately.

“N-no, D-Dada, don’t go!” Peter howled, cries only increasing as he made grabby hands at his Daddy, whose pained expression caused Happy to make the quick decision to transfer the hysterical child back into his father’s arms. His wailing still persisted even when he was as close as he could be to the man.

“Sh, sh, shh, come on, baby, it’s alright. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here, Daddy’s here, sweetheart, shh…” Tony hushed, quietly, subconsciously rocking his son and nuzzling his fluffy curls, affectionately, placing delicate kisses across flushed cheeks and temples. The poor kid was bawling, his face bathed in tears and his grip on his father’s suit jacket exceedingly tight for one so small.

Happy watched on worriedly, eyebrows raised in concern at the boy’s complete meltdown. Tony usually managed to leave before things got this ugly, as Happy, Pepper or Rhodes were able to distract the kid with his Legos or some kind of game, so he wouldn’t bring out the waterworks like this. It wasn’t often that Tony got dragged away to these damn business meetings, so he supposed that it was just too much for the kid this time, as it had been a while since the man had been called away and it explained the extreme outburst from Peter.

The kid eventually managed to calm himself, but it took several minutes of Tony cradling him, rocking him and murmuring sweet nothings into the boy’s hair for Peter’s heart-wrenching sobs to reduce in their volume. He was still crying softly into his Daddy’s shoulder, begging for him to stay.

“Alright, screw this,” Tony spoke after a few more minutes, voice hoarse and rough as he stroked the back of his son’s head whilst continuing to bounce him with his other hand. “I’m taking him with and you’re driving.”

“Wait, you’re what?!” Happy exclaimed.

“There’s no fu-freaking way I’m leaving him here. C’mon, buddy, let’s get your toy,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument, as he hefted the boy higher on his hip and headed back towards Peter’s bedroom. Happy was left standing in the hallway, completely flabbergasted.

The billionaire didn’t relinquish his hold on his son as he allowed the boy to reach for his Iron Man figure, but before he could dash back to Happy, Peter’s squeals of protest stopped him.

“What is it, Pete? We’re gonna be late.”

“Want my crayons, Daddy!”

Tony sighed, grabbing the colourful box that was sat on Peter’s dresser and a little notebook, stuffing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before making his way back to the foyer. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t be giving in to his kid’s desires like this; he couldn’t stand listening to those horrible cries and begging anymore, and he figured it would just be easier for everybody if he brought Peter with. He could worry about what the board members would think later.

“Right, let’s go,” Tony ordered, slightly breathless from all the running around, but he was pleased when the driver simply shrugged and followed him to the car. He could always count on Happy to just trust his judgement and go along with whatever he came up with, even if it was ridiculous.

Tony climbed into the back seat, sitting Peter in his lap and pulling the seatbelt over the both of them. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically and he didn’t have the heart to force the kid into his own seat, not after the huge meltdown he had just witnessed. Happy immediately pressed the button to slide the privacy screen up the moment father and son got themselves settled.

Peter appeared pretty content with their seating arrangements, sitting sideways on his father’s lap with his legs stretched out across the next seat and a small smile on his face as he nuzzled it into the man’s sturdy chest. Tony was aware that it wasn’t the safest position for the boy to be in, but he trusted Happy to get them safely to this damn meeting and there was no way the genius was letting his kid leave his arms now after their eventful morning. He felt like he was going to get whiplash soon with all this hot and cold, but he supposed this was what it was like having a little human that took after him.

Tony was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Peter rummaging inside his suit jacket, fishing out two crayons, one bright red and the other yellow. His other hand was still accommodated with clutching onto his Iron Man figure, which he held close to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“What’re you up to, buddy?” Tony asked, fondly, gaze soft as he watched the boy.

“Dwawing,” Peter said and before the man had a chance to decipher what on earth his son was saying, his kid reached up and drew a big red line down his father’s cheek.

Tony should have pulled away, any normal person would if they were expected to look their best at an important business meeting in less than ten minutes. No. The only movement he made was to smile, affectionately, allowing Peter to colour all over his face. God knows what he was mapping out, but Tony simply gave him the freedom to do it.

“We match now, Daddy,” Peter giggled after a few more minutes, giving a little bounce of excitement in his father’s lap as he beamed proudly.

Tony raised an eyebrow at this and took his phone out of his pocket to get the camera up and observe his reflection. Peter had attempted to draw a replica of the Iron Man mask with about as much accuracy and detail a four year-old could muster. It was pretty hilarious considering the fact that if Peter really wanted him to take on his alter ego image, he could have just pressed a button on his StarkWatch and the armour would be there in less than five seconds.

The genius scoffed at his very narcissistic image, but there was no possibility that he was going to spoil his kid’s enjoyment, so he simply cuddled him close and kissed his little nose. “Good boy, you did a great job,” he murmured, resting his fore-head against his son’s and smiling when Peter hummed happily at the praise.

Despite Happy’s excellent driving, they still turned up at the offices about fifteen minutes late into the two hour meeting and Tony gave a little sigh as they pulled up around the back. He secured his hold on his son and climbed out the car, giving his friend an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before dashing into the reception area.

The female receptionist gave him a strange, yet slightly bemused look, but he wasn’t surprised considering the current state of the normally well presented Tony Stark and his young son who was usually kept out of the public eye. A small smile quirked at the corner of her lips as her gaze trailed over the drawing on his face, but she politely chose not to comment on it and sign them in.

Tony took the lift to the top floor, tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the number dial slowly increase.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Will you still be in twouble?” Peter asked, blinking up at him with wide curious, innocent eyes. “Late?”

“Naahh, I’ve got my armour on. Nothing can get through that, you’re keeping me safe, kiddo,” Tony chuckled, brushing some hair back from his son’s fore-head, who grinned at the comment.

As soon as the doors binged open, the billionaire was off like a shot towards the correct room, not even pausing to knock and instead opting to head straight in. The door banged against the wall as it was slammed open and every head in the room whipped towards the source of the sudden loud noise, many jumping upright in their seats.

“Sorry I’m late. Peter was a nightmare this morning,” Tony said, walking over to the nearest free seat, which happened to be right next to Rhodes.

Everyone was too stunned to speak at the baffling sight of their boss with crayon all over his face and his child dressed in what appeared to be Iron Man pyjamas, clutching an Iron Man figure in his hand as he played with it quietly and ignored the onlookers.

Tony collapsed in the chair, sitting Peter on the table so that he was facing him, and he could give his arms a rest. He didn’t even need to look in his best friend’s direction to know that he was currently on the receiving end of one hell of a perplexed stare.

“Don’t even ask,” was all the exhausted genius could muster, only glancing at him in the corner of his eye.

“Tony…” Pepper, who was standing at the front and had been leading the presentation, sighed vehemently, bracing the side of her face with her hand in despair.

It would be many years later when those closest to Peter would look back on that bizarre turn of events fondly and they would always view the day that Tony Stark decided to take his clingy son to a business meeting as one of the best examples of the billionaire being a great parent. Tony liked to secretly agree.

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idyllicstarker · 5 years

Text

So, me and @kimmykawaii got talking about a next or new chapter to my Starker Tattoo AU and of course I couldn’t hold back from writing this.

You can find part one here, with the original prompt.

I couldn’t quite figure out how I wanted this to go at first, and how I was going to adjust this with the original timeline. I eventually chose to begin it somewhere after their happy ending in part one. I’m letting you know here as I didn’t exactly make it clear.

Warnings: Slightly!fem Peter, foul language, smut, angst, cheating, daddy kink, explicit mentions of depression and antidepressants

The Café was nothing less than Peter’s refuge. Everywhere he went the whispers followed: “Is that Tony’s Stark’s boy?” He pretended not to hear but he always heard, no matter how quiet they thought they were being it always got back to him. And their words hurt.

Many claimed he was with Tony just for the money, a sugar baby of sorts, begging off Tony’s wealth and living a lavish life, but no one realised he was there before all of that. For two years he struggled with Tony as he ran his small tattoo business, when Stark Industries wasn’t even in the older male’s head let alone a far off dream. It was never going to happen. But then it did. Others added on theories such as that Peter left behind his family name for something bigger; Peter Stark, it had a nice ring to it after all but Peter wanted it because he loved Tony, not for the fame and fortune attached to it. No one ever stopped to consider that the two actually shared a genuine love - it was only ever money and status, two things Peter couldn’t care less about as long as Tony was in his arms.

If he really cared about having the most expensive brand of clothes, being chauffeured in the best cars and having an abundance of wealth lying around he never would have told his mother and father to shove their opinions up their ass as he left to go and make a life with the so-called ‘street rat’ that was Tony. He left that life because he didn’t need it, and he especially didn’t want it, not as much as he wanted to be with Tony. It was only pure luck that he ended up back in it. But this time it was more bearable, because not only was he sharing it with the man he loved, it was gained based off of pure hard work and determination not heritage. Granted, it was Tony’s business, not his, but at least he knew it was built with the right intentions and would be run under the right intentions - It made enjoying the luxuries of it all that easier. Besides, Tony wouldn’t ever let him believe that he didn’t deserve none of this stuff as it wasn’t Peter’s genius that built it, as to Tony, Peter had been the brightest light in his life. And if it wasn’t for him, SI would never have come about, Tony would still be working in the lousy tattoo shop, living for nothing but survival. How he managed to get Peter to fall in love with him, he never knew, but of course, he was grateful, confused but grateful.

And yet the whispers still carried in the wind. And despite how hard Peter tried not to listen they’d scratch at his skull and send static in his ears before he was having a breakdown in the middle of the street because two women couldn’t keep their mouth’s shut. Which is why Peter tried to avoid them. But being stuck in his house because he was afraid of words was not only undesirable but also impractical. He tried it for a week and went crazy after two days. He enjoyed going outside, and no, strolling over the grounds around the mansion didn’t help fulfill that. He liked seeing people, being involved in the busy city life, and just experiencing the raw nature of a society. He didn’t realise that Tony’s amazing achievement, would strip that all away from him.

He guessed, it was like the saying: ‘Old habits die hard’, it was something Peter was so used to that when his life changed, he couldn’t help but for it again.

But that’s where the Café became Peter’s newfound favourite place. He used to say that was in Tony’s bed but not even sex could compare to this cofee and cakes in this place. It was just around the corner from the tattoo shop, so back when life was a little harder but no less perfect, Peter found himself in there quite a lot. Although back then he couldn’t afford much, often just asking for a glass of tap water and sitting by the window as he observed the people, they were more on the elderly side as they didn’t really have much to do at this time of day but no less interesting. Sometimes you’d see a college student crammed into a table by the wall, tapping away at their laptop or hunched over textbooks for hours on end. And if you were really lucky, you’d get to see couples, all different people, mixed and matched so beautifully under cupid’s watchful eye. Peter never truly appreciated his moments of peaceful people watching until he stepped in there one of the days after they’d move far from their apartment.

It had been the first time Peter had left his home in months, too scared without Tony who had been way too busy for Peter to even explain his fear. But he didn’t blame him, not at all. He was so proud of Tony for all that he’d achieved. But as he stepped into that Café, with his new seasonal winter coat done up to his neck, and fluffy hat pulled over his ears, he was instantly greeted with smiles and questions of where he’d been from the baristas. He felt normal for the first time in a while. The only difference was, when they began to prepare his tap water he shook his head, ordering a gingerbread hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, and one of the cream pastries he’d been dying to try for the longest time. He was back almost everyday after that. It wasn’t that Peter was lonely, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t exactly attention starved either (because the breaking in of the new home sex had been amazing - Tony wasn’t stopping until they’d christened every room) but he just craved a sense of normality he couldn’t get anywhere else. Tony was busy, but he was never too busy to send Peter messages throughout the day to check up on him. Because as Tony struggled with his newfound workload, Peter struggled to settle into being rich… and he didn’t think he’d ever felt more selfish. But it was okay, because eventually he got used to it. But of course he never stopped visiting the Café because it was a big part of his life. Sometimes he’d go in simply to buy a coffee and a pastry for Bucky down at the tattoo shop and drop in and say hello. Sometimes, he’d go in to grab Tony a cake knowing the man loved them as much as Peter. But other days, he would stay, enjoying the peace and quiet and just basking in the warm buttery lights of Peter’s miniature heaven.

Like today.

Peter had tucked himself into the corner, knees up against his chest, feet teetering dangerously on the edge of his chair. His hot chocolate sat half drunk - and quickly turning cold - on the unsturdy table before him. He opted to sit away from the window, the cold draft too much for today (he half wondered as he sat down if bringing a blanket next time would be too much). His book was clutched in his hands, blueberry muffin crumbs down his shirt, looking ever the adorable mess that Tony would have loved to see. It was Peter in his natural element, uncaring of the people around him, or what he looked like, finding he had to do more of that these days.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, his chest seemed to rise and fall more rapidly as he got to a particualry erotic part in his book, before he was quickly snapped out of his aura by an unwelcomed interuption. It took a second to recognise the blonde that had sat himself down without so much as a care, on the opposite side of Peter’s table. But as he took in the well-built body, and the soft kind blue eyes, he realised there was no need to be afraid. “Steve”, he spoke softly, slowly closing his book and setting it on the table. He’d met Bucky’s boyfriends a couple of times, as he’d swung by the store, and took to the man well. He was nice, and charismatic, and Peter had become good friends with him, he just wasn’t in the mood with social interaction right now.

“Hey Pete, I won’t be here long I promise, I just saw you sitting here and I actually have something to give to you”, Steve said, rustling around in his backpack. Peter raised an eyebrow, but didn’t have to ask as already Steve was continuing. “Bucky said it was dropped round the shop this morning. A woman, saying it was urgent it got to you. It doesn’t seem dangerous, It’s just a letter after all, I was just on my way to drop it round, you saved me one less job.”

Sure enough, Steve had pulled a white envelope from his backpack and passed it to Peter. It didn’t have any address, it simply had Peter Stark scrawled on it in messy writing. Odd - they weren’t married, engaged, but not married.

“I gotta run kid, but I’ll see you sometime soon, tell Tones I said hi”, Peter’s confusion melted as he looked up at Steve and nodded.

“Will do, tell the Bucky the same!”

They shared a quick hug, before Steve was taking his to-go cup and retreating outside into the cold bitter air. Peter looked down at the letter, a soft breath falling from his parted lips. It was obvious it wasn’t something official, no bills, nothing like that; but that only made his curiosity more prominent. It could have been a fan of Tony, you had women and men like that, doing anything to try and grab his attention, but then why would it be addressed to Peter specifically? A death threat maybe?

He tried not to think about it, he wanted to wait to open it with Tony, so pushing the letter away he opened his book back up and began to continue. The main character began thrusting balls deep into his wife, vivid depictions of dirty talk on the page, and yet Peter could no longer concentrate. Not even minutes later, childish eagerness won and he was throwing his book down and reaching for the letter. Tearing it open he half expected to be met with a threat to his life or maybe a poem addressed to Tony, but as he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, his eyes scanned not over a letter, but of a scrawl of two words only.

‘You’re welcome’

Peter’s body turned cold, slowly tilting the paper to check if anything was written on the back but there wasn’t, it was blank. He peered into the envelope, noticing nothing else but what looked to be a photograph taken on a security camera footage of sorts. It was grainy and dark, Peter had to remove it to see but he really wished he hadn’t when he did.

As soon as his gaze settled on the image, he couldn’t breathe. If he’d been standing his knees would surely have buckled.

Tony. His Tony. Laying down on a bed with a woman on top of him. It was taken from a height, so although he could only see the back of the woman, her long hair flowing down her naked body, he could see a perfect view of Tony’s face. It was clear it was Tony, he had his face mapped out in his head; and not like Peter needed it, but the tattoos on his arms were the exact same on HIS Tony’s body. The Tony in the picture had his head thrown back, his adam’s apple protruding from his throat, and Peter could practically hear the sounds. Not her’s, but his. The way his moans would get louder when he was close. His legs were strong, propped up, probably to help himself thrust upwards into her as she came down on his length. His hands were holding onto her sides, and even Peter could tell he was being careful not to hurt her. His heart ached at the sight. He knew what that was like which made it all the more vivid. He knew the way sex smealt with Tony, sweat and colonge mixed. He knew the passion, and the… and the love.

Peter let out a sob, his hand flying to his mouth as he dropped the picture onto the table. Everything hurt.

His vision blurred as tears began to fall but he knew if someone was to see him like this, it would be in the tabloids by tonight. So he furiously wiped at his eyes, but the image was burned into his fingertips. And even when he stopped, and his red blood-shot orbs opened, it’s all he could see in front of him. With a shaky breath he moved to gather his stuff, shoving his book into his satchel and gathering the letter and the photo. But as he moved to push it back into its envelope, he froze, his eyes catching onto a time stamp in the corner. It read the day before yesterday’s date, and 13:19 as the time. Sure enough, after checking his phone, it was two days prior, and sure enough Tony would have been ‘working hard’ in his ‘office’ at that time. Peter tried desperately to blink away the tears as he shoved everything carelessly away. And as he ran out of the Café, legs heavy with emotion and the need to be home, Peter swore, this is what it felt like to have your heart break.

Upon returning home (he’d practically ran) Peter threw his bag onto the floor and was curled up on the large bed within seconds. He cuddled one of their many pillows to his chest, crying into another until he had nothing left to leave his body but occasional, dry sobs as he closed his eyes, and the image appeared in his head. He’d cried until his eyes were swollen, his cheeks red and blotchy, and his head pounding. He needed water.

He stood slowly but his tired body still stumbled dizzily as he moved from the bedroom. He took staggered steps down the hallway, but was stopped by FRIDAY announcing that Tony Stark was entering. His stuffy nose and heavy head couldn’t take it and at the mere mention of his name, Peter cried out, falling to the ground on his knees and beginning to shake and sob, more tears, that he didn’t think possible, were running down his cheeks.

He didn’t register the familiar figure running towards him. He didn’t register the confused and worried shouts of “Baby? Peter Baby, What’s wrong?” He didn’t register the strong arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him to his chest. He didn’t register Tony carrying him to their bedroom and holding him in his lap, rocking him slowly and trying to soothe his cries as he ran his fingers through his hair, unaware of what Peter knew.

It was half an hour later before Tony would get any sort of response from Peter. Although he was laying against his chest, he didn’t seem to sink into Tony like he usually did. His sobs were reduced to hiccups and he was positive that this time he had nothing left to cry out. He needed water now more than ever but he wasn’t about to ask for it.

He tried to struggle from Tony’s lap but affirmative hands on his waist told him no without Tony even having to say it.

“What happened Peter?”, Tony’s voice was as soft and as caring as it always was and it made his stomach churn. Peter’s bottom lip trembled, he knew how much of a state he must look right now. His face stained with salt, lips chapped, eyes small and his hair every way possible because what even was gravity. “Peter?”, came the more urgent question. “I came home to you sobbing on the floor, you need to tell me what’s wrong my love-”

“Don’t call me that”, the first words to leave Peter’s mouth were pained. His dry throat couldn’t take it and they came out hoarse. But they were also full of emotion, pain and hurt and it was obvious in the way Peter’s breath hitched before he let it out slowly.

He noticed the confusion on Tony’s face and scoffed. “Don’t look like that! Don’t call me your love if I’m not”, Peter was slowly becoming more worked up. His pain and anger coming together and if he started ranting now he wouldn’t stop.

“What are you talking about hun, you know that you’re my love, you’re the only one I ever want!”

There was a beat of silence, in which Peter blinked before he laughed. It was a deeply pained laugh, one that needed no explanation of a joke because Peter wasn’t laughing because it was funny, he was laughing because everything felt so numb.

“Shut up! You Liar!”, he screamed, standing from Tony’s lap as he stumbled to the door wanting as much distance in between them as possible. Tony’ s eyes went wide, sitting up straight. He was clueless to where this was coming from, but he knew it was going to be hard to fix.

“You can’t love someone and then go and fuck someone else. You can’t love someone and leave them to walk home with their sex full with your cum and then come home to me and dump another load”

He ignored Tony’s protests of “I didn’t cheat, I haven’t”, simply choosing to speak louder over him.

“You disgust me Tony! So how many sluts have you fucked whilst you’ve been at work? I bet she wasn’t the first because you didn’t look guilty at all-”

“Look?”

“-No you looked like this was just normal to you. Making love to them and then coming home and fucking me in the ass acting like I’m you’re one and only-”

“I. Didn’t. CHEAT. Peter.”

“-Well maybe it wasn’t making love to them, but you were still doing something that you should only be doing for me, something that’s sacred, cherished and loving and you’ve just RUINED it-”

“Peter will you listen to me. I have never and will never cheat on you. I love you, and only you”

“-You don’t hurt the people you love Tony”, he screamed, chest rising and falling as he panted, trying to catch his breath. “But then I guess I always had this coming didn’t I? I was never going to be able to keep your attention for too long-”

“Peter no”

“-Especially now with all you’ve got. It would be hard to keep your hands off someone new-”

“I love you and only you”

“-But you don’t Tony because you wouldn’t have cheated if you did. And I don’t blame you. I’m too used for you now. Before I was just a virgin. That’s a kink isn’t it, deflowering a virgin. And then I just wasn’t tight enough for you anymore. My name has a check by it now, done and used. Because that’s all I am to you. A little whore that was fun for a while because that’s what people like you like. Tight little holes, to fuck into, and fuck up, until you’re ready for them to just be discarded. Inadequate for any kind of long term. But you act like like you love them for a while and when you get bored, you’re done with them-”

“You’re jumping to conclusions that aren’t even there Peter. Where did you hear this from huh? What article?”

Tony was confused by the words that just came out of Peter’s mouth. Confused and hurt at the accusations being placed against him. Of course it wasn’t like that at all, but Peter just didn’t want to listen.

The boy scoffed, marching over to his bag and taking out the envelope. “Not there Tony, huh? Then what’s this?”, he shouted.

“You cheating-”, he paused to catch his breath, “Lying-”, he threw the letter at him, “Piece of shit”, and finally he threw the photograph. “Dirty old man”, he screamed, stomping his foot to the floor (Tony was glad that they didn’t have neighbours out here), as Peter stomped his foot to the floor.

As Tony silently moved to take a look, Peter clutched the envelope to his chest. At his feet, a black memory stick fell as Peter leant down to pick it up. He swallowed tightly, he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before. He turned it around in his hand curiously. What was this going to be - a sex tape? With a shaky breath he took slow steps to the laptop but stopped at Tony’s voice.

“That’s not me Peter”, he said quietly, yet the excitement at proving himself innocent was clear. He was hurt by everything Peter had said, especially since Tony loved him more than anything but he understood his pain, it did look awfully like Tony.

“Why are lying when the evidence is right there”, Peter spat, causing Tony to shake his head and move closer.

“I’m not, baby, just look, please”, he didn’t touch him, he respected Peter’s boundaries and didn’t want to upset him more, but he stayed close. “Look, think about it. Whoever did this has some pretty good photoshop skills, and I’ll admit, the man looks like me. But It’s not me. They forgot one vital detail, and how you missed it is beyond me considering you had such a fuss about it”, Peter’s eyebrows furrowed and Tony smiled softly. “My side Peter, if this was taken two days ago, where’s our tattoo on my side. In the exact same place as yours. It’s not there baby, it’s not there”, Tony’s happiness rang through, he’d never felt so relieved.

Peter swallowed nervously, licking at his lips. Sure enough the tattoo wasn’t there, Tony was right, and Peter was stupid for missing it. He coughed slightly, his throat still hoarse and worse now from all the shouting. “The time stamp could have been altered”, he eventually said, turning the memory stick around between his fingers before finally clenching it in his fist. Slowly guilt was setting in for everything, he’d said.

“Maybe, but what need would anyone have to try and prove i'm cheating on you before i got that tattoo, no one knew who I was a year ago”, Tony said soothingly.

“One of my friends might, for all we know it could have been Bucky or Steve. They said a woman dropped it off, it could have just been them”, he said defensively.

Tony shook his head. “They wouldn’t have left it a year to try and tell you baby”, he justified, and honestly, Peter knew they wouldn’t.

“Baby, if I was going to leave you because you were used or some shit like that, I would never have proposed to you. I would never have spent months planning the perfect proposal and still manage to fuck it all up and end up clumsily getting down on one knee as we walked back from the ice cream shop at that night you couldn’t sleep.”

Peter giggled softly at the memory. It was true, he remembered it so clearly. Tony had planned the perfect proposal on their anniversary (which Peter did actually end up seeing as Tony wanted to do it properly), but the first time Peter got proposed to was far more adorable, and so much more like his Tony. It was an accident, three days prior to their anniversary. It was a humid night, and neither of them could sleep, and so Peter insisted that they go down to the midnight ice cream store. Of course Tony could never deny his baby of his desires, not anymore at least, and they walked hand in hand under the stars. It was on their way back, the sun just starting to rise, an orange glow falling over the city. Some were just waking up ready for the day to come, others were still tucked up under their covers. Tony and Peter, well they were ready to sleep for the day, never conventional to the rest of society. But as Peter giggled at something Tony he said, swinging their arms gently as they padded down their street, Tony let the sound fall to his heart. The angelic melody causing his smile to drop. He tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him to a stop as the confused boy turned with a small smile. Tony moved in to kiss him, arms wrapped around the smaller boy’s waist. Sliding under the soft material of his shirt that was far too big on him because it was Tony’s. He still had the taste of cookie dough on his lips, and as Tony pulled away he didn’t think he'd ever felt so overwhelmed with love then in that moment. Everything was warm, soft and gentle, and he knew from now on he wanted this, nights like these. He wanted Peter, forever until the end. As he pulled away from his lips, he pressed their foreheads together, but kept his eyes closed. “Marry me?”, he had muttered quietly.

Peter’s eyes flew open, wide and surprised, but hopeful. “What?”

With a gentle laugh Tony pulled away, getting down on one knee and grabbing Peter’s hands gently. “Peter Parker, I love you with all of my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t have the ring on me right now, because I didn’t plan for it to happen this way. But I just.. I couldn’t hold back. Please Peter, will you marry me?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Peter’s answer was yes. Pulling Tony into a hug as they shared teary confessions of love. Peter really did remember the moment like it was yesterday. And Tony was right he guessed. He wouldn’t propose if he didn’t want to actually spend the rest of his life with him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at Tony as Peter shakily sat down on the edge of the bed. Tony closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow down. He didn’t think he’d ever felt true fear until these last few moments. He began to rip up both the note and photograph, before letting out a sigh. He threw them with a grunt and mumbling something about stupid lies. He turned back to Peter, he wasn’t even mad anymore, he just wanted the boy in his arms. He looked so sad, so vulnerable. He was in sweatpants and a large oversized hoodie, his tears were still stained on his cheeks and he just wasn’t a pretty sight. But to Tony, he was beautiful. “Can I have a hug now baby please?”, he begged. But Peter licked his lips, looking up at him with a hollow expression.

“I want to see what’s on the memory stick first”

Tony’s gaze flicked to the small black box, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t know what’s on it?”, he asked. As Peter shook his head, Tony licked at his lips. “It’s probably just more photoshopped images baby, they’ll only hurt you.”

But Peter clenched his jaw, standing from the bed and walking over to the laptop. “I’m looking at it”, he let out, a shaky breath falling from his lips as he bought it over to the bed. Sitting down, he set it down in front of him as Tony sighed and sat beside him.Taking a deep breath, Peter almost prayed this wouldn’t work, before plugging it into the laptop.

Shaky hands came down from where they’d been clutching at knees. Peter clearing his throat as he moved to open it up. He blinked seeing that it contained only a single video. There was no thumbnail, and the file was simply named ‘TONY’. Peter felt his love stiffen beside him. He watched Tony through the reflection in the screen, watched the way he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. Already knowing he was about to discourage Peter from watching it, he clicked on it before he could get there. Tears filled his eyes before the video even began to play because he was so scared, so, so, scared-

The video played for a total of three seconds, Peter’s eyes ficking over the screen confused and pained, but not quite able to piece together what he was seeing. It played for three seconds, in which Tony dived forward and snapped the laptop closed. The grainy audio came to an abrupt stop, and silence fell over the room.

“What the fuck Tony?”, Peter questioned.

“It’s only going to hurt you Pete…”

“I didn’t even get to see it-”

“It will hurt you-”

“Tony open up the laptop”, Peter said carefully and steadily. He was still trying to keep calm., holding onto hope. Tony proved his innocence the first time. He said he didn’t cheat. “If you have nothing to hide, you’ll open up the laptop!”

Tony hesitated, but he knew if he didn’t there would be a whole different argument. And Peter would see it eventually with his determination. His hands had gone clammy, he almost seemed scared. But he opened up the laptop and pressed play.

Peter’s eyes settled on the screen, and as they did, as he watched and listened, his heart seized.`

It was undeniably Tony this time. There was no missing it. The camera person panned up, settling on Tony’s face, half way to orgasm, a face Peter saw often. His hands shook as he moved to turn the sound up, and the weight on the bed grew lighter as Tony stood, but Peter’s face never left the screen. Tony was there, straddling someone, a man, legs squatted, as he bounced himself on someone’s length. Peter’s eyes filled with tears as he heard Tony’s moans fill the room. His mouth forming curses, strained curses. Maybe if Peter could concentrate long enough he’d realise Tony looked so uncomfortable. So in pain, and so, so guilty, as if he was trying to hold back. But Peter couldn’t concentrate on anything except for that it was his Tony - letting someone make love to him, fuck him whatver, something he wouldn’t even let Peter do. A sob fell from his lips, his hands flying to his face to cover his mouth as the camera panned back down. The tattoos on his arms, check, the tattoo on his side… check. There was no doubt it was Tony and some other man. Peter’ eyes flickered over the screen, vision blurry from the tears but he couldn’t force himself to look away. Tony, real Tony, had begun to pace. Guily, he was guilty, and Peter knew it. Video Tony, well to Peter he looked like he was having the time of his life, letting out broken sobs of ecstasy. His hard, red aching cock lay on the man’s stomach, leaking from lack of attention. Why this was recorded, Peter would never know, but it was clear Tony wasn’t being forced. His eyes looked straight at the camera, but Peter couldn’t look into them. Tony’s movements were getting more frantic, the way they always did when he was chasing euphoria, grinding himself down, rocking back and forth as his moans grew louder. Mixing with that of whoever this man was. For a while, it was the only sound that filled the audio, the sounds of pure sex. But then, Peter’s heart broke as he heard them begin to speak.

“Who’s lying at home waiting for you Tony. Who’s waiting for his daddy who couldn’t give a damn as he fucks himself on my dick?”

There was a choked sob, and Tony answered, “Peter”, he muttered before he sunk himself one last time down, as he began to come, thick white spurts painting the man’s stomach.

Peter began to shake, and this time it was him who moved to slam the laptop shut, eyes trained on where the screen used to be, unable to move.

“Peter..”, Tony muttered, having stopped his pacing to stand at the foot of the bed.

Peter didn’t reply, he couldn’t. His lips were slightly parted in shock, eyes glazed over, body tense.

“Peter baby, you have to let me explain, please-”, Tony begged. He couldn’t come up with an excuse, he had to explain himself. But Peter was having none of it. With shaky legs he pushed himself up from the bed. He was completely silent, it was scary. He left the room, Tony trailing behind him like a puppy still begging Peter, but the younger male had completely toned him out. He moved over to storage, grabbing a suitcase, and carrying it back to their bedroom. The sight only made Tony more frantic, more emotional and desperate. He was the one crying now. Peter felt nothing.

He shoved whatever he could grab of his clothes into the suitcase. Anything he needed or was of value to him he shoved in too, all whilst ignoring Tony’s pleas. As he moved to zip up the case, his eyes caught on the flashy ring on his wedding finger finger. A shaky breath left his lips as he stood up straighter, closing his eyes. His bottom lip began to tremble as he sniffled.

Although Tony wasn’t proud of making his baby cry, he was glad in a way because Peter was finally showing some sort of emotion. Taking a cautious step closer Peter almost seemed to growl, blinking away the tears in his eyes. Tony held his arms up, as if in surrender. “Okay, okay, I won’t touch you”, he said softly, slowly lowering his hands.

Rather than make a move to take Peter into his arms, he took the suitcase off the bed, moving it from Peter’s reach. The boy didn’t even make an attempt to get it back. He didn’t want to leave.Instead he just stood there, still. His left hand cradled in his right, thumb brushing across the beautiful ring. “Only the best for the man I love”, Tony had said - but there could be no love, not after that.

“Tony you cheated on me”, Peter finally whimpered, his voice cracking as he collapsed on his knees. He was in Tony’s arms within seconds, the older man pulling him to his chest and holding him close. This time he didn’t fight it. He didn't fight because he was weak. Weak for Tony.

He was weak for Tony when Peter grabbed his face, to stop him from saying that he needed to listen and let him explain.

He was weak for Tony when he pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He was weak for Tony when he turned needy, climbing onto his lap and pushing their hips together. He knew he’d confused the man at the way he froze, but still he carried Peter to the bed, because who was he to deny his baby of his desires.

He was weak for Tony as they stripped their clothes, and moulded their bodies together so perfectly.

He was weak for Tony as he cried out softly as the man pushed inside of him.

He was weak for Tony as their bodies rocked together in an unspoken melody until they were both panting in each other's arms, until they fell asleep. Sweaty bodies entwined together, Tony still inside Peter, his juices flowing down his thighs and Peter’s sticky on Tony’s stomach.

Yes, Peter knew he was weak for Tony, but he wasn’t a weak man. He just needed to feel their connection, one last time.

When Tony woke up in the morning, he was alone. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, but the other side of the bed was completely cold. The bedroom door was cracked open a small amount, and his clothes still lay on the floor, where Peter had thrown them last night. The large house was silent, but that meant nothing. After all, if Peter was in the kitchen he wouldn’t hear him from here. He was praying to any god out there that Peter was in the kitchen. Please, please be in the kitchen-

As he ran from the room, tugging on only his underwear, his gaze caught on the corner of the room. Where he’d put the suitcase yesterday, it was no longer there. And where Peter had put the laptop on the dresser, it was, but the memory stick was gone. Tony let out a sob, running, screaming Peter’s name as he bolted it down the halls. He wasn’t in the living room, nor the kitchen. Tony ran desperately to each room, still frantically screaming the name of his love. He knew what he did and he wasn’t proud of it but all he needed was just five minutes, five minutes to explain. But as he ended back in the bedroom, no sight of Peter anywhere in the house, Tony collapsed on the floor. He was shaking, hands tugging and pulling at the skin on his chest because God why couldn’t he breath. Five minutes, that’s all he needed but Peter was gone, and Tony didn’t even know where. He was hitting at his chest as if willing his heart to restart. Tony wasn’t one to get anxious but he was sure that this is what it felt like. He understood Peter’s pain and emotion yesterday because Tony had never felt anything like this. It was as if his whole world had collapsed around him and his heart, well his heart had shattered, it’s remains spilling across the floor. He could feel it, he could feel it so vividly that he could almost see it.

“FRIDAY”, he called out, his voice barely above a whisper, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to take in as much air as he could but it wasn’t enough. His lungs were constricting and no matter how hard he tried to breathe normally he couldn’t. This had never happened before.

“FRIDAY, what time did Peter leave?”, he gasped out between wheezing pants. His head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, Tony’s body growing heavier.

“4am last night sir, he left you a message… sir would you like me to alert someone of your ill health?”

“No FRIDAY, I’m fine… what did Peter say?”

FRIDAY didn’t speak, instead in her place, a recording of Peter’s voice: “Just tell him that I love him, but I couldn’t stay with someone that doesn’t love me, that didn’t think I was enough. Tell him there’s no use in trying to find me because I won’t go back to him. He won’t find me anyway, and that’s a good thing…”,

The recording stopped, but Tony couldn’t take it. He doubled over letting

out the most anguished cry. His arms were wrapped around his chest. He wasn’t just sad, he was in genuine pain. His chest hurt as if he’d broken a rib. It hurt, it hurt so bad. He’d lost him, he’d lost his baby, his best friends, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but most importantly, he’d lost his soulmate.

The next few days passed by and honestly Tony didn’t remember any of them. Eventually, FRIDAY ended up alerting Rhodey (Tony’s best friend since they were young) about his state. It was a protocol Peter had himself set up, but before he left, he changed it, so that rather than alerting him of Tony being in a bad state, it was Rhodey. He knew that if he was told Tony was struggling he’d be back there within seconds. Because he cared for the man, more than anything, and despite the pain and hurt he was in, he still loved him. Tony was his first love, and as much as he hated to admit it, would probably be the only man he could ever truly love. But he refused to go back. He didn’t stand for false promises. And he didn’t stand for cheaters. Tony knew that, and yet still he went and did it. In Peter’s head, he guessed that just proved that Tony never really loved him.

Rhodey had ended up at their home - Tony’s home within fifteen minutes of the text alert. He charged to the bedroom, hearing Tony’s agonising cries the moment he stepped through the door. It didn’t take long to piece two and two together, Tony couldn’t breathe, and Peter was nowhere to be seen. It was hard trying to get him out of his panic attack, anf for a moment Rhodey thought he’d need to call a private doctor. But eventually Tony calmed down enough to stumble to the bed. He fell into it in seconds, shaking and letting out dry sobs because no more tears would fall. He ended up asleep, and when he awoke Rhodey was making soup in the kitchen.

For the next few days he left Pepper in charge of SI. Rhodey would come and go making sure Tony was still alive, feeding him, making him bathe and brush his teeth. But although Tony was alive, he didn’t feel it. He just felt like dead weight, like nothing mattered. And in a way it didn’t. Because a life without Peter was pointless.

After four days, he tried to get in contact with him. But everytime he rang, he was sent to Peter’s answerphone, and every text was left on delivered.

“Hi baby xx”

“I guess you’re ignoring me, I don’t blame you”

“I fucked up Peter”

“But you’ve gotta let me explain, please”

“Peter”

“Please reply, I can’t take this anymore”

“At least let me know you’re safe xx”

“Tell me where you are so I can at least sleep at night”

“Fine… I just hope wherever you are you’re happy xx”

“And safe, safe is important”

It became borderline obsessive, He was spamming Peter’s phone every hour with messages .Pleas and declarations of love just holding onto this small string of hope that Peter would read them and reply. When he went to bed he would text him goodnight, and when he woke up he’d always send him a good morning. Complete with hearts and kisses and smiley emojis.

It lasted for weeks. And each day that passed Tony would only work himself up more because where was he? Was he okay? That’s all he needed to know at this point. He’d never felt worry and fear so prominent before. Everyone he asked didn’t know where Peter was. And it wasn’t just a case of the, covering for the boy. No one had heard from Peter since the day he went missing. Not Bucky, nor Steve, not even his friends, MJ or Ned. He asked everyone he could and no one could give him an answer. It got to the point where Tony went to the police. But Peter was an adult, and since he’d left Tony, they weren’t surprised that they’d cut all contact with him. They weren’t going to file a missing person’s report. A lot of officers lost their job that day, and slowly Tony was losing his sanity. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Where to look or where to go. He felt so lost and everyday he just felt less and less.

When he started work back up again the only thing that got him through the day was alcohol. He couldn’t get the warmth from Peter’s love and happiness, and so he looked for it in his empty scotch glass. He wasn’t an alcoholic. The support system around him made sure of that. But he had become dependent. It made him feel alive. Something he desperately needed. Because he wasn’t living right now he was simply just existing. Without Peter he was nothing. Peter was his rock, his light, his happiness. The reason Tony would get out of bed on bad days, the reason he went into work smiling because Peter woke up him clinging to him like a koala and kissing every inch of his skin. On days when Tony wanted to give up Peter was right beside him, reminding him why he was doing this. Tony didn’t have that anymore so why should he even try. The only reason Tony ever felt real emotion was because Peter loved him. Without his love there was just nothing. They’d planned their family, their days of growing old together. Tony wanted nothing more than to have Peter with him when he took his last breath. They had begun planning their wedding. Spring time because everything’s “just so pretty” in spring time, as Peter had said. They hadn’t gone as far as planning their honeymoon but Peter had been so excited. It would be their first time out of New York together, and it would only start the beginning of so much more. Peter had been so excited. And now it would never come to be.

Tony knew deep down this was all his fault. He knew he messed up and he knew he lied. What he did wasn’t exactly better than cheating, but it was better then Peter thinking it was solely cheating. Tony wasn’t like that. He loved Peter and only Peter, no one else.

These bad thoughts consumed Tony. Ate away at him from the inside. They never stopped and everyday he lost a small part of the hope he had left.

It was Pepper that forced him to go to the doctor. “You’re throwing yourself into your work too much in order to try and fill the hole, but you’re only exhausting yourself”, she had said. Tony liked her because she was honest, but this time he hated her for that very honesty. The doctor made him see a therapist twice a week. He was put on antidepressants. They still didn’t make him feel anything, especially now that he couldn’t drink. But he told them that they did because he hated the attention. He just wanted Peter back. That’s the only thing that could help at this point.

It was exactly five months and three days since Peter had left. And it was on that fifth month and third day in which he returned.

Tony, having still been clutching at that last shred of hope, had completely overridden FRIDAY’s system, so that if Peter returned he couldn’t tell her not to notify Tony that he was there. In fact the moment he unlocked the door a text message was sent to Tony, and Peter never knew anything.

The older man had been in a meeting, a meeting he wasn’t happy to be in at all. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket so like a naughty school boy, he slipped it out to take a look. For a moment his heart stopped, blinking, once, twice, three times to make sure that he’d read it right. When he’d established that it wasn’t his mind playing a horrible trick on him he was up out his seat in seconds. He took the elevator down, pushing past people mumbling apologises. He didn’t wait to explain leaving Pepper to deal with the angry businessman and making a mental note to deliver flowers to her office as an apology. But Peter, Peter was so much more important.

Poor Happy was driving at illegal speeds once Tony was inside the car. How they never got stopped by police, Tony didn’t know. They’d ran through four red lights and almost knocked a kid off his skateboard. The car hadn’t even fully stopped outside his- their home before he was opening the door and jumping out. He slammed through the door, panting as he came to a stop in their hallway. The house was quiet. He let out a shaky breath, was he too late? Was Peter already gone?

“FRIDAY?”, he whispered. His girl knew what he was asking, but Tony dreaded to hear the answer. “He’s in your bedroom, sir”, came the reply. Tony’s eyes flashed with emotion, the first time in five months in which Tony reacted positively to something.

His movements were slow, hesitant. He had one shot at this, he couldn’t mess it up. He moved his hands up to loosen his tie, he couldn’t breathe again. And he needed to be able to, one chance, that’s all he had.

Peter was standing peacefully in their bedroom. He was folding clothes neatly and placing them into a suitcase. Tiny came to a stop at the doorway, his eyes softening the moment he laid eyes on Peter, his Peter.

“You’ve lost weight”, why that was the first words from his mouth he didn’t know. He’d planned this better in his head but his plans never usually worked anyway.

The sudden voice scared Peter. He let out a yelp, swinging around to the door as he placed a hand over his chest. “You scared me!”, he breathed out, and Tony nodded his head slowly.

“I’m sorry”, he said simply. It seemed he wasn’t going to say much else until his statement was acknowledged.

Peter sighed, placing the jeans he’d just folded into the case. “Mom said I’d put on too much weight. That I was letting myself go by being with you. It’s funny isn’t it? They were never going to be pleased. You make a name for yourself and they still weren’t happy”, he laughed quietly. Tony didn’t.

“That’s where you’ve been, with your parents?”

Peter nodded in response.

“No one knew. I’ve been so worried Peter-”

“I don’t think I owe anything to you”, Peter cut him off sharply, His eyebrows were furrowed in anger, as he turned to grab some socks for the case.

“I still care about you Peter. You can ask anyone and they’ll tell you bad it’s been. I’m not trying to play victim but… It’s been so hard without you. Not knowing where you were. It hurt so bad”

Peter sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. His legs felt weak. “I saw your pills when I went to go to the bathroom”, he said quietly. “And I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re the one that cheated on me Tony”, he reminded..

“I didn’t cheat!”

“Do we have to play the video again?”

Tony sighed. Pushing himself away from the doorframe He took heavy steps over to the boy and knelt down in front of him. Reaching out a hand he placed it over Peter’s. The boy didn’t flinch, nor try to move away, which Tony saw as a good thing.

“I love you. So much. Nothing has, or will ever change that. What you saw in the video was true. It was me. But I didn’t want to do it-”

Peter scoffed.

“-please just listen baby. Please. It was cheating yes, but it wasn’t my choice to make. I did it for you, for us. To be able to get that better life”, seeing Peter’s confusion, he carried on. “The video you saw was me and a man named Tanner Gage.He had close relations with my father. I never really told you how exactly I managed to build an industry from nothing. And I didn’t because it was only going to hurt you. Tanner wanted money, money that I didn’t have to offer him. He had all the plans prepared as the go ahead, but he wanted something from me. I didn’t have the money at the time. This was in between us getting the tattoos and me beginning to go out to meetings and whatnot. You remember don’t you?”, Peter nodded.

“When he found out I couldn’t give him the money straight away, he said he’d let me give it to him once we were back on our feet and making money from the business. On one condition. Why he wanted to have sex with me so bad, I don’t know. But I did it, because I wanted to be able to give you that better life. It was so close, I couldn’t not do it. And look, look around Peter. I got you a better life. It was once, one time that was it. And we still have everything I’ve ever wished for you and more. I’ve touched no one, spoke to no one, done anything with anyone else but you, apart from to give him what he wanted.”

Peter’s mouth was wide open in shock. Whatever he’d been expecting as Tony’s excuse, it wasn’t that. He didn’t know what to say. Tony could see the emotions running through his head, and gently he squeezed his hand.

“I get if you’re still mad and upset with me. I would be too, I just never wanted to tell you because it would only hurt you. It’s wromg, and it’s disguting and I’m guilty as fuck, but i can never regret it, because it got us to here”, Tony said softly.

Peter’s mouth was dry. For a while he opened and closed his lips, no sound coming at because he was still trying to process everything he was just told. Tony was always one step ahead, answering questions before Peter even got to ask them:

“I’m not lying Pete, I promise you, I know it’s absurd but I wouldn’t lie. Not when our relationship is at stake. His wife was the one that wrote the letter to you and dropped it off in the shop. We got fingerprints sampling from the envelope, and checked the cctv of the shop. We can get in contact with her so that you can ask her in person.”

“I don’t know why he recorded it, I guess he got some kind of kick out of it. I hated every minute of it and all I could think about was you. I cried the entire way home after. You remember that night, I know you do. You got upset because I didn’t kiss or touch when I came home. But I couldn't, I didn’t want my tainted touch on you until I’d showered. You just didn’t know it then..”

“Yeah I guess that’s basically prostitution. But, I don’t want to sue him or anything because I owe all of this to him.”

Eventually even Tiny ran out of things to say. His head was bowed, gaze low at Peter’s feet. Seconds later arms were wrapped around his neck, a small body clinging onto his. “Oh Tony- Tony- you should have just told me. I would have understood. I feel so bad now, you did nothing wrong. I love you so much and I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I’m sorry he made you do that, I’m sorry Tones, I’m so sorry. I came to get some more of my stuff I didn’t know you were going to break my heart and yet mend it at the same time!”

Tony began to shush him gently, holding him close and rubbing his back gently in small circles. “It's okay baby, It’s okay. It’s over now and I promise nothing like that will ever happen again”

Peter was sobbing quietly in his arms, and Tony’s own eyes filled with tears.

“I love you so much Peter, please don’t leave me”, he begged softly.

Peter shook his head. “I would never, not now that I know the truth. You’re my brave, strong, beautiful husband and I’d be damned if i let someone take that away from me!”

For the first time in a long time, Tony let out a laugh. There was still a lot they needed to talk about. He knew Peter was still hurt, and honestly he didn’t blame him. But this was a step in the right direction for sure. And Tony had never been more glad.

“Thank you”, he muttered hoarsely, and the reason behind it was unclear. There was a lot he was thanking Peter for. Too much in fact because he didn’t deserve his angel Peter, not at all.

But Peter simply shook his head, suitcase forgotten as he pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s head, and hugged onto him, a little bit tighter.

#starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #skylar writes

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belovedkingx · 5 years

Text

Our little secret | jhs

» Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

» Genre: Vampire!au, Reincarnation!au, Smut, Fluff, angst

» Word Count: 7.6k+

✥ Summary: Normally, someone would be terrified when they find out, they would feel fear rushing through their veins but you weren't like that, you found pleasure in the realization of who and what he was.

Warnings: attempted humor, dirty jokes, blood, dirty talk, swearing, marking/scratching/biting, Cunnilingus, fingering, Intercrural sex, praising, blood-drinking, counting, creampie

A\N: This is officially the longest fic I’ve ever written, it was meant to be a lot shorter. I may have gotten a bit carried away.¯\_(ツ)_/¯

|| Masterlist || Part of the “Nightfall” series

— posted: 10.22.2019

Loud music filled your ears as you held on to your red solo cup, filled with what you could only assume to be vodka and pineapple juice. You were sitting on the couch, bored when a couple sat extremely close to you as they were intensely locking lips, they were practically on you.

You pushed them off as you stood up, walking to the kitchen where there were fewer people. You knew college parties weren't your thing the only reason why you came was that your friends begged you to go, but as soon as you guys arrived they left you on your own. You were hoping at least one of them would stay with you.

As you stood against the counter you decided it would be best to leave, you reached for your phone to let your friends know you were leaving. You made your way into the living room, passing through drunk college students. As soon as you made it to the front door you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see Jackson pushing passed the people to get to you. You rolled your eyes, thinking he was gonna try and convince you to stay.

“Hey, there you are," He spoke loudly due to the music. You look at him with a raised eyebrow "Where are you going?" He asked as if you hadn't just texted in the group chat that you were gonna head home. "I think I've been here long enough, you stay, have fun I'm just gonna go home," He frowned at your words, getting a little bit closer to you. Before he could speak your other two friends came rushing towards you, calling your name.

"Oh thank god, you caught her before she left," Taehyung speaks, breathing heavily. Then your friend kelly stands next to Jackson. "Did you run just to find me?" you asked taehyung amused. He just nods his head repeatedly. "You can't leave, it's still early" You chuckled at Kelly's words because it was nowhere near early. "It's like 1 in the morning," she just nods, saying that that was still early for a party.

"Okay, How about this," Kelly speaks, getting the two males and your attention. "Will since it's Halloween, why don't we go do something fun together, that we all would enjoy?" she suggests. "It's no longer Halloween and what are we gonna do at 1 in the morning, everything is closed," Taehyung finally caught his breath then spoke on the matter. "I agree with kelly cause we did kinda ditched you, so we should do something together."

You nod your head in agreement. "Okay, but we still need to find something to do," You stated. Jackson puts his hand on Taehyung's shoulder lightly pushing him towards the door before doing the same to you and kelly. "Let's just get out of this party and figure it out once we get some coffee in us," Jackson said as he ushered all of you out. Everyone hummed in agreement, walking out the door.

"I know this cozy little café not too far from us that stays open till 3 AM," Jackson announced. Kelly's and your eyes widen in excitement. "Well lead the way, Jakie boy," she says, swinging her arm around your shoulder, ready to leave.

The four of you walked and talked about everything, which only took about 5-10 minutes to get there. You finally decided to fling kelly's arm off of you since your neck was killing you, she was just using you for a sort of support. As you give your neck a mini massage Taehyung was telling one of his dirty jokes. "Okay, I have another one," Everyone including you sighed, knowing how bad it was gonna be.

"What do you get when you cross a dick with a potato?" Taehyung asked but didn't waste a second waiting for one of you to answer back. "A dictator." no one laughed, kelly just gives him the death glare. "Taehyung, don't you think that you've worn that joke out," Jackson chuckles as he agrees. "Yeah, you've told that joke too many times," You shake your head, wanting no part in of whatever was unfolding before your eyes.

"Okay Okay, I have a better one," you smile to yourself as they walk a few feet in front of you. "What are the three shortest words... in the English language?" Taehyung smiled as he waited for a response, proud that he had a new joke to tell. You looked up ahead passed your friends and saw a large light grey sign with lit-up letters that spelled out "Midnight Balcony Café”. You figured that that was the place Jackson was talking about. Your mind came back to the question taehyung asked and you immediately spoke out.

"Is it in." Those were the only words you said, causing taehyung to look back at you shocked and what you could detect to only be a disappointment. The other two chuckled. "How did you know the answer?" You start to laugh at taehyung but also feeling a little bad cause you realized how bad he wanted to deliver the punch line. "I may have seen that joke online somewhere," immediately kelly and Jackson start to laugh even harder as Taehyung pouted like a little kid.

"Well, that was a lot better than the last one taetae, keep throwing these kinds of jokes at me then you might just have me rolling on my ass," kelly teased, trying to get him to stop pouting, even tho she enjoyed seeing his pouty face. Finally, you were here, standing in front of the cute little cafe that was pretty bare, there was only one worker and two other people, that you assumed to be college students as well.

Once you walked in, the smell of freshly grounded coffee with a mixture of Cinnamon and other bold satisfying aromas filled your lungs as you took a deep breath. As you looked around you thought it to be interesting that you never noticed this place before, taking in the colors and designs on the wall as you made your way to the counter. You gazed at the display of pastries as you heard the woman greet kelly and the others.

"Hello, Welcome to Midnight balcony Cafe. What can I get for you," The woman spoke with a warm smile, ready to take everyone's order. You quickly made up your mind on what you wanted and took the opportunity to look around some more as the other ordered. The place was warm and cozy, with green plants decorating various spots of the shop.

You noticed off to the left side of the cafe, was another room with a big wall bookshelf filled and a few couches. You smiled, thinking about coming here from now on, you were pretty happy that Jackson introduced this place to you.

After a quick look, you made your way back to everyone, you were next to order. You greet the woman with a shy smile as she did the same. "Hi, Can I get a small iced midnight macchiato." The lady nods her head as she taps the screen of the register. "Of course, What flavor would you like, We have cinnamon, vanilla, mocha, caramel, and hazelnut," You tell her what flavor you wanted and then reached for your wallet to pay.

"The total will be $20.36," the lady says after she calculated everyone's order together. Jackson noticed you getting ready to pay but stops you, handing his card to the woman. "I got it Y\n, it's on me," you throw him a smile as you thank him. The four of you sat at a table waiting for your drinks, as soon as you sat down Taehyung speaks.

"So, does anyone have any ideas on what to do after this?" You slipped your jacket off, thinking. "Honestly, I think we should just call it a night," You state, looking at the clock on the wall across the room, noticing the time. "I mean it's already 1:48," everyone stays silent, thinking.

"if you guys figure something out then I'll be down but if not we should just head home," once you finished talking the woman walks towards your table with a tray in hand, filled with drinks. The woman smiled at everyone as she placed their drink in front of them.

"Enjoy," she says as she gave you yours last before walking off. You noticed Kelly looking at you with a look on her face that meant she had an idea, one that never ends well. "What are you thinking?" you asked, suspiciously. "I know exactly what we could do, let's take a little trip to Redwood," Jackson looked confused while your eyes were close to popping out of their sockets. "Redwood, Redwood mansion? Are you crazy, no way."

"Oh come on, it will be fun," Jackson looked back and forth between you and kelly, puzzled. "Um, Mind explaining to me on what's with Redwood mansion?" Taehyung gazed at Jackson, shocked. "Really? You know nothing about Redwood?" Jackson just shakes his head in confirmation. "Well, It's a mansion that was built in the 1800s, it's supposedly hunted, there's a lot of legends about it so no one actually knows what happened in that place," Taehyung explained to him.

"Some say that the husband, Mr. Redwood caught his wife having an affair and decided to kill her and his two kids then himself, and others say the Redwood family was involved with supernatural creatures, like demons or vampires, which in result got them killed," Kelly interjected. Jackson seemed to be interested in the whole thing from the look on his face, you knew you had lost him already. Now Taehyung is your only and last hope for getting out of this.

"Well, let's go, I think it will be fun plus Y\n is into these kinds of things," Taehyung spoke excitedly. Immediately, you mentally facepalmed yourself, feeling that little hope you had left just get shredded into a million microscopic pieces. "You've got to be joking, No way are we going in that house," as soon as the words left your lips you could see all the questions that were gonna be bombed at you all over Kelly's face.

"And no it's not cause I'm scared, it's because that house is a death trap, one step in that place and it’s all crumbling down, you do understand how old it is, right?" Kelly rolls her eyes with a deep sigh. "Yes I understand, but I'm sure it will be fine," Taehyung and Jackson stare between you and kelly, waiting for the final decision. "Come on please, I'll tell you what, let’s just go in, look around but we'll leave immediately at the first sign of danger," she raises her eyebrows hoping she had convinced you enough, fortunately for her, she did.

"Fine," you replied with a little shake of your head. You couldn't believe you let her talk you into something again for the second time today, but you couldn’t lie, you’ve kinda wanted to see the place for a while now but you would never admit that to her. Taehyung sits up with an excited expression. "Well, now that that is settled let's not waste time, let's go," Jackson joins in eagerly, sitting up while kelly gives you a wink. "Come on girly, we're gonna have fun and you know it," she says as she reaches her arm out for you.

The four of you trashed your empty cups and headed towards Redwood. Each house that you passed was decked out with Halloween decorations, making the neighborhood creepier at night than usual. You finally came up to a gate that separated you from the house with a rectangular stone next to it that had 'Redwood' engraved into it. The place looked creepier than the houses you've had to pass to get here.

"Well, looks like we can't get through," you spoke, noticing that the gate had a thick chain locking it. You tried to walk away but kelly quickly grabs your forearm, pulling you back. "Nice try, look," she paused and pointed to the gate. "There is a big enough gap that we can easily slip through."

As she walked away you glared at her for a moment, she walks up to the gate, opening it as far as it would go. While she kept it open for Taehyung and Jackson you observed the house, from what you could see some vines attached themselves onto the sides of the house.

Bushes and trees were obstructing your line of sight so you couldn't see much, despite the light of the moon it was pretty dark. Kelly calls out for you, snapping you out of your focused state. "Come on," you move quickly, slipping past the gate.

Everyone grabbed their phones, using the flashlight to see properly without tripping. Once you turned on your light you could easily follow the driveway up to the house, as you walked you started to notice how nice and clean the lawn looked, like as if someone was maintaining it.

Jackson gave you a look after noticing the same thing, he shrugs. Once you made it up to the house you get a weird feeling down your spine, you couldn't explain it, all you knew was that it wasn't fear.

Kelly, Taehyung, Jackson and you stood in front of the stairs that lead up to the front door, Kelly hums in thought upon noticing the door boarded up. "Maybe we can get in through a window," Taehyung suggests. Kelly nods, satisfied with his idea."Well, come on," As they walk off to the side of the house you stood there for a moment, before rejoining the others. When you turned the corner you see Jackson trying to get the window to budge open.

Looking inside, all you saw was furniture covered in cloths everything looked dusty. Immediately after Jackson got the window open everything went black, an excruciating amount of pain started to spread in your chest. On the outside you looked fine, you didn't move or show any sign of discomfort but on the inside, you were in the dark and in pain.

Jackson hops through the window then helped the others get in. With each second passing, the pain was fading and a small ball of light floated far in the distance.

The light got closer and closer until it enveloped you. A warm breeze kissed your skin, slowly opening your eyes, a field of flowers come into view, you take a deep breath, taking in the fresh air. The sky was clear, so blue, not a single grey cloud threatening to rain down.

You feel someone slide their hand into yours, a secure, relaxing atmosphere surrounded you. You turn to see the one next to you but the person was quick, wrapping their arms around you into a hug, keeping you from seeing them.

You tried so hard to look, just wanting a glimpse but when you pulled away everything faded so fast making you dizzy and confused. You found yourself breathing heavily as you stood in front of the window as Jackson stares at you, waiting for you to take his hand. You look up to see his eyes laced with concern but you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could question you. With help from Jackson, you were able to hop in with ease.

As you scan the room, eyes glancing over the others as they removed the dusty sheets from the furniture, you spot the door and made a beeline for it. You grip the handle, getting ready to open it but then stop upon noticing a glow of light coming from underneath the door. "Guys, I think someone is here," you whisper, alarmed. Looking over your shoulder, you see kelly rush to your side. "Look, there's light," You added as you pointed to the floor.

"It's most likely someone who is here for the same reason we are," You nodded, accepting her words. You slowly opened the door to see a bunch of candelabras lined against the wall of the hallway, with candles being the source for the light. As you walked down the end of the hall you quickly realized that it leads straight into the foyer. You hear Words of astonishment coming from the others.

The interior of the house with white and gold. To the left was the front door and to the right, directly in the middle of the room was a long split Staircase with a big glass window at the top. On the ceiling, were designs in gold as well as a large crystal Chandelier. "Wow, this is crazy," You hear Taehyung speak.

"Why on earth does the outside of the house look so run down while the inside looks so, so," Kelly tried to find the perfect word to describe the house. "Stunning," Kelly nods as Jackson finished her sentence. In the corner of your eye, you saw something move at the top of the stairs, but when you looked nothing was there. You shrugged it off, thinking it was one of your friends' shadow.

You kept your focus on the room as the others spoke, never speaking yourself. You were so captivated by the look and atmosphere of the place that you somehow suddenly couldn't hear the others converse, you were very much in your own little world.

When you first step foot into the house you reminded yourself not to get separated from the others, yet it happened anyway. You realized this when you found yourself wondering into another hallway on the other side of the house.

As you walked you came across a double door which intrigued you, you placed your hand on the door handle, opening it to reveal a large moonlit room to what you would describe as a ballroom. The room suddenly changed, one blink and everything was so bright. You were standing in the middle of the room with arms wrapped around you as you swayed to the soft music in the background. You knew it was the same person from before just by the safe, strong aura coming from them.

This time you decided to embrace the feeling, and relax into their hold instead of trying to figure out who it was and what was going on. But of course, it didn't last. You feel the person let go of you while the room turns black. Immediately you felt that pain in your chest, you closed your eyes tightly in agony as you clutched your shirt before the pain suddenly fades into warmth.

Once the pain dissipated you slowly open your eyes to realize you were crouching on the floor of the room with your hand to your chest. You were breathing heavily with anger rushing through your veins. "What the hell... is happening to me?" You thought to yourself as you lift yourself to your feet. Getting a bit dizzy you leaned against the door to collect yourself.

As soon as you thought it was time to go find the others you heard screaming, immediately your heart sped up and your blood ran cold. You tried to act quickly but you stumbled down the hallway still feeling dizzy. As you stumble back into the foyer your vision became distorted, it was as if an illusion was overlapping with reality.

You were seeing people walk and hearing them talk to one another, you heard one particular name being called over and over again, Nova. You tried snapping out of it to get to your friends but it was useless, at this point you just couldn't even walk. You laid on the hard granite floor as you faded in and out of reality until you were out cold.

"Nova, What's with the sad face?" you whipped your head in the direction of the voice. You sit up, off the edge of the bed as you see hoseok climbing in through the window. "What are you doing here?" you pull him away from the window as he smiled down at you, lovingly. "Well, I'm here to see you, I just couldn't wait," You sigh out of frustration but then realized you couldn't be mad at him for that. "I understand, I just don't want someone to catch you," you stated, showing worry in your eyes.

"Don't fret, I made sure I was careful," He said softly as he benevolently caressed your cheek, suddenly his bright and loving smile disappeared and a more serious expression took its place. "I wanna take you away from here, I've been thinking about it for some time," you were shocked by his words but happy, you didn't know what to say so you let him continue.

"I can't sit here and watch the woman I love get forced to marry someone else," Hoseok pulls you closer, holding on to you as if he was scared you would disappear. "I don't know what the future holds for us if we leave but it has to be better then this," you knew he was right and after everything your father has done, you knew you couldn't stay. "As long as I'm with you, I'm not afraid to find out what the future as to offer us," you spoke, revealing that you were ready to leave with him.

Hoseok pulled you into his chest, kissing you on the forehead. "Good," a soft chuckle of relief escapes his lips. "The sooner we leave the better," you nod in agreement. "I have some things I need to take care of before we leave so we'll leave tonight," Hoseok effortlessly lifted your head by your chin before placing a kiss on your lips. He then pulls away, making his way back to the window. "I love you," the two of you said softly before he disappeared out of the window.

The feeling of silk, soft and smooth on your skin alerted you that this was most definitely not your bed, your eyes shot open as you simultaneously sat up. You noticed that you were in a different room and by the look of it you assumed that you were still in the house.

You slightly relaxed on the bed that was in the middle of the large bedroom, you noticed that it was lit up by only candles like the rest of the house. The room was pretty plain but nice, everything was dark grey, the walls, the big fluffy rug under the bed, the silk bed sheets, and even the window curtains that were to the right of you.

You started remembering some things you saw when you were knocked out. "Did I dream all of that?" You thought to yourself. You swing your legs to the right, sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing the back of your neck. You suddenly hear a low squeaking sound coming from the bedroom door, you whipped your head to your left and see him...

A wave of emotions hit you hard, overwhelming you. Heart racing, breath heavy, you lock eyes with him as you stand up. "Hoseok," you say under your breath. For a brief moment, he looked shocked as the name you spoke reached his ears, before reclaiming his calm demeanor. "I guess there’s no need to introduce myself," he said walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

You were so confused as to what was happening to you, the way you were feeling, the only thing that came to mind was that he did something to you. "What did you do to me?" You yelled, ignoring what he said previously. He sighs, unsurprised at your reaction to your own memories.

"Calm down, I didn't do anything to you, all I did was pick you up off the floor from downstairs and lay you on the bed," he says, placing the cup he was holding on the table next to him. "After that, I left to let your friends know you were okay and that you were just sleeping," he added.

You suddenly remember your friends screaming and felt a bit worried, but before you could voice your concerns Hoseok spoke up again. "And if you're worried about your friends don't be, they fell asleep waiting for you downstairs," for some reason you trusted his words, you tried to ignore the feeling but something told you that you and your friends were safe. "Who are you? why do I know your name? what's happening?" You bombarded him with questions.

"I can explain some things for you but you have to trust me enough to listen to everything I have to say, can you do that?" you felt stupid for trusting him but you needed to understand everything, especially the feelings you were having towards him. "Okay," you said lowly. He reaches for a picture frame that was next to the cup he placed on the table. After he grabbed it he walks towards you, stopping about a foot in front of you. "Look at this, who does she look like," He asked, handing you the picture frame.

You looked at the black and white photo, confused but most of all shocked. You looked back at Hoseok then back at the photo. "She looks... like me, how?" Hoseok reaches out for the photo, taking it and placing it back on the table. "She looks exactly like you, Her name was Nova, Nova Redwood, she was a sweet and kind woman," your eyes widen, remembering that you heard that name before. "You are a reincarnation of her," He says slowly, getting straight to the point. He expected you to quickly scoff at his words, to his surprise you didn't.

You didn't know what to say or think, you had this strong trust for him that you couldn't understand but his words were so insane... Yet you believed him. With every passing moment, you were remembering bits and pieces to what you assumed to be your memories as, Nova.

Something still didn't quite make sense to you, you stayed silent for a while thinking, trying to form a proper question to ask. "If what your saying is true then how do you know all of this about me? you talk as if you knew her, Nova," his eyes seemed sad despite him displaying a slight smirk.

"Well, I did know her, very well actually," you squint your eyes, lost. "How is that even possible? you would be well over a hundred years old," he chuckles, taking a few steps closer. "That's true, but I would say being an Immortal Being makes it pretty possible," he says looking away from you. You thought you were starting to understand, somewhat but now you're just completely bewildered. "An Immortal Being?" You asked, skeptically.

An unexpected giggle escaped from your throat, you tried your best not to laugh but you couldn't help it. "I'm glad you think it's funny but I'll be the one laughing when you realize what I am," he states with a raised eyebrow. And what are you exactly?" you asked, amused. "I think showing you would be better proof, wouldn't you say?" you gave him a look of agreement, crossing your arms.

He takes a few steps forward before he magically appeared right in front of you. He hid his face in the crook of your neck while his hands were on your hips, slowly guiding you to the bed. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress and you fall but he caught you in his arm, gently laying you down. Your mind was blank and fuzzy, you were completely and utterly aroused by everything unfolding.

You look up at the ceiling, feeling your heartbeat quicken as he placed his lips on your neck, brushing them across your skin causing your body to tingle. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before feeling a sharp pain, which didn't last long.

You uncontrollably let out a moan, not entirely from pain but also from pleasure. He lifts his head up looking into your eyes, you scan his face and noticed his eyes were a gold color, his lips were lightly painted red with your blood. That's when it hits you, he just bit you.

Realizing everything he has said and all that you've been remembering is true, which in turn made you feel happy, sad and angry, for reasons you didn't quite understand yet. He turns his face away and lifts himself off of you, you knew that ordinarily, one should be terrified, or at the least worried about the situation but you couldn't bring yourself to feel that way even if you tried.

You sat up touching your neck where he bit you, only a few dots of blood showed on your hand. "Don't worry, I didn't go deep, it'll heal up pretty quickly," he spoke, facing away from you. As you stayed silent Hoseok's head hanged low as he sighed, thinking you were scared of him. He had hoped that you would at least remember him after seeing all your old memories.

Hoseok figured it would be best if he told you that you could leave. "Now that you know, you can take your friends and return to your normal life," he uttered as he walked towards the door. You realized that your silence could have been taken for as fear, You act fast, hopping to your feet as you say what's on your mind.

"No! I'm not gonna leave and just pretend that none of this ever happened, how can I?" Hoseok remained still, surprised that you weren't terrified after what he just did. "There are things I need to know, like... who I was to you," you spoke the last words slowly because you realized how hard this was for him.

You recognized the sadness between the two of you and you understand that it has to do with the fact that you died and your father had something to do with it, but you want to know everything.

"Hoseok, who was I to you?" you asked even though you knew, you just needed to hear him say it. "You were everything to me, you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, that was until I got turned," he paused, taking a moment, realizing that he's never talked about you since the day you died. "But I was still determined to live the rest of your life with you, but you were taken from me way to soon, it wasn't your time," you could hear his voice slightly crack as you spoke causing your heart to ache.

"I need to know what happened to me, to us but I need your help," you wanted to ask about everything that happened but you knew he wouldn't tell you, so the best thing was to remember on your own, you need the memories to come back to you. "And how do you think I can help you?" He asked, intrigued.

"Kiss me," you knew it was selfish of you to ask but whether this helped you remember or not didn't matter, you just wanted to feel him again, his lips, his hands.

He turns around locking eyes with you. A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he slowly stuck the tip of his tongue out, playfully. He stared at you for a short moment, making sure you were serious. You could feel your body heat up under his gaze, he gently starts to take soft steps towards you until he hovered over you, eyes still connected. He slides his hand behind your head as he slowly pulls you in close. With every inch closer, your hands inched they're way up his back, gripping onto him.

As soon as your lips were about to meet he stopped, letting his lips float just over yours, slightly teasing you, then finally leaning in the rest of the way. His lips were soft and gentle making you melt into the kiss. A wave of emotions took hold of your heart, all the love and adoration you once had for this man came rushing back, causing tears to stream down your rosy cheeks.

Memory after memory flashes through your mind, things started to make sense to you now, all these years of feeling lost and empty like you've lost something or someone. All these years you've felt like this place, this home, was a magnet trying to draw you in, and now you know why. Hoseok pulls away from your lips, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. He understands exactly why you're crying, it's the same reason for why he has in the past.

It's because of Love.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back in for a kiss, this time it was rougher and deeper. You brushed your fingers through his hair, tugging softly. Hoseok slightly pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, earning an airy moan from you. "Are you sure you want to continue? I can stop," he asked teasingly, he knew the answer by how you responded to his touch.

"No, don't stop, I want this," he proceeded to kiss your neck as his hand travels down your back to your ass, pulling you closer. He starts to walk forward, guiding you to the bed until the back of your knees hit the edge of it. You lay flat on the bed while hoseok hovers over you, he gently lifts your arms above your head then slowly slides his hands down the curve of your arms and body until he reached the waistband of your jeans.

He unbuttoned them, sliding them off along with your dark red lace panties. Hooking his arms around your thighs, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed as he got on his knees. "Relax," he urged, slowly spreading your legs. He rubbed and kissed up your inner thigh, helping you to loosen up. You could feel him inching closer and closer to your pussy, making you breathless.

You took in a shaky breath as the warm sensation of Hoseok's tongue slowly slid between your folds. Your hands fluttered to his head, tangling them in his hair as his tongue darted out to lick long, wet strips up against your aching clit. He decided to take his time with you, simply taking in the sounds of pleasure that you made just for him. "That feels good doesn't it?" He smirked smugly as he watched you move your hips to get more friction. "M-more, I-," you could barely even create a full sentence.

"You want me to make you cum? You wanna cum all over my tongue, don't you?” all you could do was nod repeatedly as his words made your cheeks burn bright red. Hoseok didn’t pay any mind to your desperate whines as he sucked gently at your clit, groaning in satisfaction at the filthy whines that emitted from your lips.

He tasted you once more before two of his long fingers gently thrust into your pussy, curling inside of you as he picked up the pace. He smiled against your heat, feeling you clench around his fingers. "That's it, baby, now be good and take my fingers like a good girl," he praised you before flattening his tongue against your clit, causing you to blurt out a string of curses.

You threw your head back, clutching the silk sheets while trying your hardest to hold your legs open and not crush his head. You started getting louder, indicating that you were about to cum. "You want to cum? then do it, cum for me," he urges. Within seconds he had you cumming all over his fingers and tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, moaning out as your body shook from the intensity.

Seeing and hearing you cum made his cock grow painfully hard, he wanted to hear you all night long, it was music to his ears. As you laid there with a fucked out expression Hoseok pulled his fingers out, licking them clean. After, he spread your legs out further, admiring you. "Gorgeous," you looked away a bit embarrassed.

He stands to his feet, lifting his shirt over his head, you noticed and wanted to help him. So you slid off the bed onto your knees, unzipping his pants, letting him step out of them. "Come here," He reached his hand out for you, helping you up. He turns you around then grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it randomly on the floor. You felt his hands wrap around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

His hands roamed your body as he kissed your shoulders, you grind your ass up against his cock earning a groan from him. His fingers brush over your nipples causing you to arch your back and push your ass against his cock harder. Hoseok needed to feel you, he needed to feel your warmth. He pushed his underwear off, letting his cock spring free. He stroked himself a few times before sliding himself in between your thighs.

Your juices from your previous release made it easy to slide back and forth. Every time he would thrust forward his cock would rub over your clit. "Hoseok," you whine. The feeling of his breath on your neck as he pants caused shivers down your spine. You couldn't stand the wait, you just wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel his hands grip you tightly as he fucks you. "Fuck," Hoseok growls.

He grips your chin, softly tilting your head to get better access to your neck. You knew what was coming next and it made you wetter. That sharp, yet brief pain shoots to your core, making you weak in the knees. Hoseok didn't think he could get any more turned on, the strong and sweet taste of your blood sent him into overdrive. Once he drank some of you he pulled himself from your legs, then he turned you around to face him.

You saw his fangs this time as he licks up the blood left on his lips. He slightly lowers his head down to your breast, while keeping eye contact with you. lacing your hands in his hair, you throw your head back slightly as he licks, sucks, leaving marks. Hoseok releases your nipple with a pop before laying down on the bed and gesturing you to come to him.

"Come and sit on my cock, I want you to ride me," you obeyed, feeling giddy. Finally, you were gonna get to feel him inside of you. You straddled him and rubbed his cock between your slit before slowly sliding him in. Your walls stretched to accommodate him, you let out a loud moan from the stretch. When you took him in fully he pulled you to his chest by your arms.

"Unless you want your friends to know what we're up to I suggest you keep quiet," he said in your ear before bucking his hips up, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth to contain the cry that almost escaped. You leaned up, keeping one hand on his chest and the other over your mouth as you bounced up and down. "Ooh fuck, just like that," Hoseok groans.

He rubbed his hands up your body until he reached your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. He noted that you really liked it when he bit you, so with a smirk tugging at his lips, he leaned up a bit as you continued to fuck yourself on his dick. He took your right breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple making you clench around him. You had to fight the urge to give up on being quiet when he sunk his teeth on the top flesh of your breast.

"Such a naughty girl, taking me so well as I leave bites all over you," he teased, looking up at you through hooded eyes. You didn't really think you were the type to be into pain but Hoseok was proving you wrong. You sped up the pace as a low moan slipped passed your lips. As he released his mouth from your breast a small amount of blood streamed down, he licked it up with one long, slow swipe.

He could feel his release getting close, not wanting to cum just yet he surprises you by pulling you to his chest again and flipping you over. Before standing up he has you wrap your arms and legs around him as he lifts you up, still deep inside of you. He holds you by your ass as you straddle him, as he starts to thrusts his hips you dug your nails into his back. You knew you couldn't last much longer with the way he was going deeper ever than before. "Ahhh oh shit, you feel so good," you moaned out, giving up on being silent.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck as he sped up, he draws his right hand out and swung it back down, slapping your ass. "Look at me," he ordered. You slowly brought your head up, facing him with rosy cheeks and hooded eyes. He captured your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss, very different from the way he was pounding into you.

"You like how I'm fucking you?" you nodded, eyes locked with his. "Yeah? You want to cum all over my cock?" he asked with a powerful thrust following, making you scream in pleasure. "Yes, please make me cum, make me cum all over your cock," with that he had you on your back, legs pressed to your chest as he repeatedly pounded into you within seconds, fucking you into the bed.

'Ahh!! fuck, right there!" you gasped. "I'm gonna count up to five then I want you to cum for me," Hoseok challenged. You had no doubt that once he got to five that you would be releasing all over him. "One," He started counting, slowing his thrust but thrusting deep. "Two... Three," He released your legs, opening them so he could lean down to see your face when you came. "Four," You wrapped your arm around his torso, holding on to him as you felt your orgasm about to come crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

"Five," Hoseok quickly pressed his lips to yours, preventing you from being too loud. Your friends were downstairs and though they couldn't hear the two of you now, he knew if you were anymore louder they would most definitely be able to. Releasing all over his cock, you clenched your walls around him causing him to cum deep inside of you. Both of you moaned into the kiss, his thrusts slowed down until he completely stopped. He pulled from the kiss, breathing heavily as he looked down at your fucked out face. "Damn, that was intense," He admits, tiredly.

As he pulls out you tremble, still sensitive. He disappears from your sight as you lay there catching your breath. After about two minutes you hear movement at the door and look to see what it was. Hoseok came back with a warm washcloth and a cup with steam coming from it. "Sorry for taking too long, I was getting you some tea and something to clean you up with," You smile as he placed the cup down. You reached out for the washcloth as you thanked him.

Once you cleaned yourself up Hoseok laid back in bed, handing you the cup of tea. "So How do you feel?" he asks. You sit there for a moment, thinking. "Confused," you take a sip of your tea, thinking about everything that as happened tonight. "Why? You still don't remember anything else?" he leans up, waiting for what you have to say. "Actually I remember quite a bit, like the first time you told me what you were, and how you were afraid of how I would react," Hoseok smiles, remembering the words you told him back then.

"I'm just confused about what this all means for me, for us," you confess. "Well, it means you have a second chance at life and I think what we should do is let go of who we once were," a part of you didn't like where you thought this was heading but you listened anyway. "Cause I want to get to know the present you, I want to make new memories with you," Hoseok reached his hand out, gripping your chin and turning your face to him. "I want to fall in love with you all over again," he leaned in, giving you a soft peck on your lips.

"Unless that's not what you want," he teases. You lightly hit his arm making him laugh. He takes the cup from your hands, placing it on the nightstand then pulling you into his arm. "Get some rest, then when you wake up will go down to your friends," your eyes widen, realizing that they might get suspicious of your relationship with (to them) a stranger. Hoseok notices your concerned face and before you could speak he eases your worries. "Don't fret, we'll slowly ease them into this but for now this will be our little secret."

Hearing the way he spoke to you put a smile on your face, you finally felt sleepy as you melted into his hold. As you fell deep into a peaceful slumber you just kept thinking about how you've never been this happy in your life, despite discovering that vampires and most likely other mythical creatures exist. None of that mattered, all that mattered was this, this feeling, being here with Hoseok.

The one you were destined to be with, The man you loved.

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crowbarstodd · 5 years

Text

Filtered Lens (1)

Adrien needs help. It doesn't matter how many times he insists he’s okay; Tim’s familiar with longing gazes at indifferent backs, and lonely dinners in too-big, too-cold houses. Adrien thinks he’s fine, Tim used to think he was fine too.

Nobody is surprised when Bruce Wayne seems to have adopted a new son.

Rating: G Pairings: None, this is all gen batbrothers stuff

The gala was a bore. Unsurprising, considering they were usually varying degrees of dry, unless of course, you were a hapless drunk like ‘Brucie’ was, stumbling ‘round the marble dance floor, laughing obnoxiously loud. Bruce was really laying is act on thick, though Tim supposed it was to be expected, considering he hadn’t been around in the past month to reinforce his civilian cover -- too busy fending off Queen Bee in Bialya with the League.

Damian had long since wandered off, though Tim was impressed that the demon spawn managed to last past the first hour of cheek-pinching without insulting an esteemed guest. Alfred’s allowance of his absence was likely a reward for Damian’s recent good behavior, lucky little shit, Tim thought, as he swirled his champagne flute absently.

He’d never been too fond of the taste of wine, but sipping on it gave him something to do, and made him look contemplative and busy enough not to be approached by the giggling gaggle that had been eyeing him up since the beginning of the gala. Tim wasn’t Dick, charming and sculpted, but he was still rich, and a young CEO, which meant that with every event came potential suitors that he did his best to ignore.

From the gaggle and Damian, everything seemed perfectly normal, except... Well except for the boy. He was blonde, and looked somewhere around Damian’s age, standing awkwardly at the corner of the room, between a copy of an antique vase (they hadn’t had any genuine versions displayed since Dick had been adopted, according to Alfred. Apparently, he’d broken four one-of-a-kind antiques while tumbling around, and Alfred had the sense to put all the fragile decorative pieces away) and an old family portrait from before Cass and Damian were adopted.

He was too stiff, his smiles forced, and his eyes tired. Even from his position on the other side of the room, Tim could see that the boy’s paleness was one of someone sick, rather than someone who hardly went out. The most peculiar (or rather, the most saddening) thing about the boy, however, was his nearly unwavering stare at a tall, lean man with rectangular glasses. Gabriel Agreste, a popular French designer. Which means, if Tim’s deductions were correct, which they usually were, that the boy was Gabriel’s model son; Adrien.

It was more of an impulse than a decision to approach the boy, but something about him reminded Tim of his younger, lonelier self, alone in the Drake mansion with nothing but his news cut-outs, and night-shots of Batman and his Robin(s).

“Tired?”

The boy -- Adrien -- startled, moving back a step. Interestingly, Tim noted that the boy’s right hand balled, while his left moved to the silver accessory on his right ring finger.

“Sorry?” Adrien asked with lightly accented English.

Up close, his green eyes almost looked animated, round, wide, and filled with earnestly Tim felt he couldn’t possibly deserve. “Are you tired?” Tim asked again, giving the blonde a small smile.

Adrien’s eyes widened, looking positively alarmed. “No, no!” He insisted, waving his arms wildly, “no, this gala is magnifique, it’s an honour--”

At the sound of Tim’s snort, Adrien’s frantic babble halted. “You can be honest, kid, I promise you, you’re not the only one here bored to death.”

Adrien’s shoulders relaxed, and the trench between his brows smoothed over. He let out a laugh that was too stilted to be natural, but he conceded with Tim’s comment. “Well I wouldn’t say I would die of boredom, but…”

Tim snickered, nudging Adrien with his elbow as the younger boy scratched the back of his head.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Tim let the question sink in, scoping the room for threats, more out of habit than actually believing a villain could have entered the Wayne household, not with the level of security Bruce insisted on.

Tentatively, Adrien spoke up. “Are we allowed to leave?”

Tim grinned, mischief leaking through his eyes. “Well I mean, I live here, so I guess I could give you permission to ditch my old man’s soiree. You play any video games?”

Adrien followed, slightly behind, as Tim began to stride out the grand hall, nodding politely to each guest he passed, and sending Alfred a wave. “I uhh, well there’s this game called Mecha Stri--”

“Strike III,” Tim finished for him, looking back to give Adrien an affirming smile. “My little brother’s friend got it for him like, two days ago. Guess you’re lucky, huh?”

Adrien let out a breath. “Yeah, guess I am.”

They filled the rest of the short walk to one of the more used sitting room’s of the manor with small talk. Without totally meaning to, Tim kept a close eye on Adrien, watching out for any signs of abuse, mental, physical, or otherwise.

He might have just been paranoid, but no good parent would leave their kid standing in a corner looking totally drained, and no good parent would let their high-profile child leave a party unattended in such a crime-ridden place like Gotham.

Adrien’s hesitance toward everything was alarming, as well as his general people-pleasing attitude. There was a time, years ago, when Tim would sit, stock still, in an itchy Givenchy suit, hoping his mother would tell him something along the lines of “good job,” for staying out of her way. Instead, he’d get forgotten at some neighbour’s ballroom, left to find his own way home in much too early hours in the morning for a young boy to be awake.

Adrien sat at the far end of the couch, his back straight and his legs pressed together, watching wordlessly as Tim set up the game station. Eventually, he let out a quiet ‘thank you,’ and Tim relished the warmth that settled in his chest. Maybe B wasn’t so crazy, adopting five kids (honestly, the number was closer to seven), because it was at that moment he decided he had to do absolutely everything in his power to help out this kid. For Adrien, but also for his younger self. To do for Adrien, what others hadn’t done for him.

He was grateful, for everything Bruce had done for him, given him. But at the end of the day, it was fact that Tim had dug his place into the family and into Bruce’s heart with his bare hands, and there was dirt under his nails to prove it. Restlessly, he worked to prove himself, because Tim Drake had everything and nothing all at once, and what he was now (love, trust, adoration, respect, reputation), he built on his own, with no saviour. And while he was proud of himself, there was a part of him that wished, wished, wished, that somebody had noticed and helped.

Tim Drake could and can do everything himself, and there was no doubt that Adrien could too, but Tim would make sure he didn’t have to.

Hours later, Dick would happen upon their slumped bodies, leaning against each other in peaceful slumber. He would take a quick shot, and regretfully wake the pair up. He’d wish he wouldn’t have to -- Tim had hardly slept that week, and he’d noticed the blonde boy dead on his feet earlier before he was stopped by Officer Jenkins and trapped into meaningless small talk. But he knew Gabriel Agreste was fiercely protective on the off day he remembered his son, so it’d be smarter to bring Adrien back to the party before it ended fully.

End Notes: Basically I decided I needed more wholesome maribat content without having Adrien a bad guy, bc at the end of the day, he IS a good boi.

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markleesthighs · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba | Chapter 4

Pairings: Reader x Mark Lee, Reader x Hendery, Reader x Jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: NCT mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: flashbacks, mentions of blood

Words: 2.91k

【 ❶ ❷ ❸ ➃ ❺ ❻ ❼】

Chapter 4 - Behind the Mask

Seoul, Korea, 2023

That night when you fell asleep, you noticed your phone kept buzzing, and it kept waking you up. You rubbed your eyes and blinded yourself with your phone while trying to see who was trying to text you at this hour. It was Taeyong. Apparently, there is an emergency assassination and could only be executed tonight.

Taeyong explained that you would be offered ₩4,700,000,000 for killing their main rivals in the area. Taeyong found out and noticed you were doing more assassinations recently and figured you would be up for it. You grabbed some death wish coffee, and accepted the offer, got your assassination suit along with your required weapons needed for killing, distracting, and escaping. You tucked your hair into your suit and took the elevator down into the garage. You got on your motorbike and drove to the other mansion on the opposite side of the city.

You had turned on the invisibility feature on your motorbike and put on your mask with high tech glasses built-in for optimal safety. You had shut down their security and cautiously avoid traps and mines scattered on their yard. You had to kill Jinyoung, a right-hand man of the rival gang GOT7, who had recently stolen drug deals and cargo from our suppliers. Knowing he is a right-hand man, it would not be a shock to your he didn’t have the second-best defenses in the entire mansion.

You broke in through the skylight in their living room and cascaded down on a rope, landing like a feather on the ground. You had shut down their security cameras and blended in with the dark shadows. You had forgotten to ask Taeyong the location of Jinyoung, so you had to figure it out quickly before their tech team blasts the alarm, send emergency spotlights, and guard dogs along your way. Luckily, your suit also had an invisibility feature and trapped your smell within the suit, finding no way to track you. It also did not track or allow finger and footprints, and all of your weapons could not be traced since they were all custom made.

You remembered a memory of your when you were little, your dad or your brother would always find you when playing hide and seek. When you got older you noticed it was one of the poems in the book he gave you, it was how you can track down anyone in an area when they are hiding. You mumbled it to yourself.

They will hide, but I will seek

Find them without a little squeak

Draw a path to their location

And follow it without frustration

Reveal to me where they lie

Shoot my desire into my eye

You felt your eyes glow and you saw a path of footsteps light up a light red, and you followed it through the mansion. You stopped at the door and used your x-ray goggles to see that he was in the shower, the optimal time to sneak in. You opened and lightly closed the door and hid in his closet, preparing your attack. You heard footsteps towards the closet, and you jumped out and muffled his voice while you held him tight when he was struggling to get you off of him. You shot his chest, and blood started to go everywhere.

Your suit cleaned itself with blood and sprayed itself with hydrogen peroxide. It also was invincible to liquid of any kind including blood. You were used to seeing this and have seen worse. You suddenly saw your payment loaded into your account and you left him in his towel with blood spewing out of his chest. You walked out of the bedroom and climbed up your rope, and when you reached the top of the skylight, the alarm went off, meaning you had about a 5-10 minute time frame to escape.

You jumped from roof to roof on their mansion and dived into the garden fountain near where you hid your bike. You ran through the trees and bushes to find your bike. You revved up the engine and stunt jumped over their gate while you saw a bunch of guards and dogs chasing you. You drove off and was never to be caught by them for the rest of the night.

You parked your bike in the garage and was about to go to bed when you heard a voice talking in the living room.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why do you care?”

It was a/n and Mark, it sounded like they were having an argument, hey, eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You look at her every time she laughs, and it looks like you want her instead of me!”

“This is ridiculous! What crazy person put that idea in your head?!”

“I’m not THAT dumb Mark.”

“We are JUST FRIENDS how many times do I have to tell you?”

“Fine, then answer my question. Have you ever loved her?”

You realized they were talking about you and was awaiting Mark’s response to the question.

“…no. I never loved her. I only love you.”

a/n sighed and sat next to Mark

“Really?”

“Really.”

They then kissed and started to make out. Your eyes were getting foggy, and the tears were starting to build up. Did he ever love you? Was this all just a game and a mistake? You couldn’t take it anymore. You ran back down into the garage and got on your motorbike and drove to Incheon. You drove and drove until the tears stopped, but they kept coming.

You finally made it to Eurwangni beach, and you took off your boots and walked on the sand. It hugged your feet softly as you walked on it. It was cold, not hot, it was quiet, not loud, and it was peaceful, not chaotic. You walked and sat on a big lifeguard seat and watched the waves as they came in and out of the sand. When you needed to be alone, you went to be one with the elements, in the forest, beach, or even a pond in the park. The stars and moon reflected in the water, as you wondered how you are still not over Mark.

You and Mark used to come here after long days of work, or if you both got lucky, came here on vacation. Mark called it a retreat for you two, so you could come up with new ideas with Mark without being distracted by the others, You remember him chasing the seagulls and trying to impress you at the beach. There was one time he tried to build you a sandcastle, only for it to be washed away by the water.

He asked you to bury him in the sand, and once he was buried you left him there, and he started to scream for an eternity before he gave up and begged you to dig him out. He also spun you around in the water, letting the salty droplets fall on each other’s skin.

Mark complained about the sea a lot how it was cold and dirty when five minutes later, he was running into the sea chasing a tiny fish. You also both cuddled on the beach while reading or in your rented beach house you both would watch the sunset until you fell asleep and he would have to carry you into the bed and tuck you in. You felt like crying, even more, remembering how happy you were here, and now you can’t get any of it back.

Taeyong came down the staircase to notice Mark and a/n still making out and coughed in their presence. They both stopped and blushed as they sat on the couch in embarrassment.

“You haven’t seen y/n, have you?” Taeyong asked

“No, why?” Mark answered

“I sent her on a mission about an hour ago, and she hasn’t come back?”

“That’s odd she’s usually done around 30-45 minutes.”

“A maid checked her room and said she wasn’t in there.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathhouses?”

“No, I sent a maid and other members to search the mansion, and she’s not here.”

Everyone started looking for you and called you, but you didn’t answer, and your tracking device was off. Another hour passed, and you still did not come back. Panic started to settle in, and members were getting freaked out. Mark also sent members to search for you in the area, but they did not find you.

People working undercover for NCT also reported nothing, all the other members started to freak out. Hendery was rapidly spamming your phone, and Jaehyun looked like he wanted to cry. Donghyuck was already crying about how he would not be able to test your weapons anymore, and Taeil was getting ready to write your obituary.

Taeyong was acting calm and strategic when really he was blaming himself for letting you go on such a dangerous mission. A/n looked mildly concerned, mainly focusing on how Mark is reacting, who is silently thinking about where you could be, and debating the possibility that you did fail your mission. You have a 100% success rate, so Mark knew you were alive and not kidnapped to be held for ransom.

“I know where she is.”

Mark immediately got up and ran to the garage before a/n or anyone could ask or stop him. He got his motorbike and rode all the way to Eurwangni beach to go find you. Mark parked his bike and saw you, in your usual spot, on the lifeguard chair. He took off his shoes and walked towards you. He found you still in your assassination suit looking into the distance, with no emotion.

“Hey, what are you doing up there?”

Mark snapped you out of your trance as you looked at him and looked back into the distance. Mark climbed up and sat next to you looking at your face trying to figure things out.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I just needed some fresh air after my assassination.”

“Did everything go, okay?”

“Yeah, i-its just been a while.”

Then there was an awkward silence. Mark knew you were lying, and you knew Mark came here out of panic and guilt, not because of any feelings towards you. You both looked into the dark ocean with the moon and stars reflecting in its water. You finally decided to break the silence, mainly because you wanted to go home, and you were cold.

“Are you happy?”

Mark looked at you suddenly and was confused by what you meant by that. You looked away in embarrassment and started to fiddle with your fingers while still talking.

“a/n. Are you happy with her?”

Mark scratched the back of his neck and looked embarrassed.

“Yeah, she…makes me very happy, I…”

You waited for Mark to finish, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to. There were guilt and sadness in his eyes.

“I…love…”

“her.”

To you, it hurt, but to Mark, it was something forced out of his mouth. It didn’t seem as genuine as he thought it was. He didn’t know why, but in front of you, he couldn’t say it as heartfelt as usual. Little did he know in his head, he wanted to say you instead of her so much, but for some reason, he had to choke it out of him to say “her.” You could burst into tears right now, you didn’t want to confront him if he said if he loved you, because you knew the answer. It wasn’t something to be worried about anymore. He’s moved on and happy, that’s all you had hoped for him. You didn’t care if he didn’t like her all you wanted was for him to be happy. You just wanted her to treat her as well as you did, or heck maybe even better than you. At this point, you just wanted to go home. It was starting to get cold, and you wanted to curl up in your bed watching dramas until you fall asleep.

“Let’s go home.”

Mark and you started to climb down when you touched the sand, your hands started to rub your shoulders and arms, you were freezing. Mark saw this and nonchalantly put his jacket over your shoulders revealing a black tank top he hands underneath, showing his NCT tattoo underneath his rib.

You put on his jacket that still smelled like cigarettes and his musk. You missed that smell, but you know you would never keep it forever. The burn marks and blood stains on it were still evident, and the zipper was broken as usual. Mark’s clothes were always bigger on you, and it was quite baggy. The pockets still fit your hands and felt warm, as the smooth leather touched your hands. You both got on your motorbikes and rode as you felt Mark’s jacket to flutter in the wind, as the moon shone brighter than it ever did.

You both arrived in the garage and parked your bikes, you and Mark walked up the stairs to see everyone awaiting your arrival in the living room. They all turned hearing your boots clicking, and they all screamed and ran to hug you, except a/n. Mark walked towards her, and she instantly smiled while everyone else was hugging you and slapping your back. Once they all cleared, a/n looked at you, seeing that you still had Mark’s jacket on and the room fell silent. A stalemate had occurred, and everyone was looking. You just calmly took off Mark’s jacket and gave it back to him saying a simple ‘thank you’ and left to go back upstairs to your room.

After a long shower, you heard a knock on your door.

“One minute!”

You quickly got dressed in a t-shirt and shorts as you opened the door to see Hendery.

“y/n! are you okay?!”

“Yeah, why?”

You both sat down on your bed, looking out the balcony window.

“I-I was just worried about you.”

“Why would you be worried about me?”

“I was afraid you were going to run away and find another group to be with.”

“I would never trade you idiots for anyone else.”

Hendery laughed, missing your humor, you both haven’t talked in a while.

“I was wondering if you wanted to attend the ball with me.”

“Really?”

“Y-yeah as f-friends?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Y-ea-“

Before he could be finished, you pecked him on the cheek.

“I’ll go as your date stupid.”

He blushed and touched his cheek. He smiled and hugged you, which felt warm and comforting. You fell asleep feeling giddy as ever. You haven’t felt good to go to bed to be excited for tomorrow in a long time. You were ready to run the world tomorrow. You fell asleep with dreams no one could imagine they were no longer nightmares in your head. They were not dark anymore. You were in flower fields instead of caves, running through the daisies, watching butterflies fly around you.

The next morning you woke up feeling fantastic, you danced around while cooking breakfast, and none of the guys knew why you were such in a good mood. You let Donghyuck test out all of your latest weapons and gadgets for the ball tonight, and you bought lunch for all the trainees.

Soon time flew, and you were done with the workday. It was cut short due to the ball, so everyone could prepare to get changed. You dashed up to your bedroom to find your dress, maids, makeup artists, fashion designer assistants, and butlers. You walked in to get your makeup done, complementing your outfit. At the same time, they also braided and curled your hair. Once you were done, you were led onto a platform with a mirror, and everyone was helping you get the dress on, since it was heavy, and had a tight catsuit underneath it. You had a corset as well, and you felt the maids pulling to make your waist smaller.

They finally finished with your corset tying it with a bow and putting finishing touches on your dress. Then you had to accessorize, you had earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings all adorned on you with the finest jewels. You got on your heels, gloves, and fur coat on as a butler walked you down the staircase to where you met your eyes with Hendery waiting for you. He smiled as you delicately walked down the marble stairs until Hendery took your hand.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t need all of this, you would still look beautiful.”

You blushed at his words as you both walked to the door opened by the maids. He held and helped you down the stairs again and held your dress up so you would not trip and it would not get dirty. A butler opened the door for you, and you looked a little nervous, but Hendery rubbed the top of your hand, giving you some reassurance.

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

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justjensenanddean · 6 years

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CW Star Jensen Ackles Invites AD Inside His Family Home in Austin

Jensen and his wife, Danneel, worked with a local Austin team to devise a lakeside home with tongue-in-cheek touches and a musical through line

Kathryn Romeyn

NOVEMBER 27, 2018 10:30 AM

There’s a lot going on inside the Lake Austin home of actors Jensen and Danneel Ackles—a lot of color, a lot of texture, endless elements begging their stories to be told. If you need a quick snapshot: The living room is scattered with guitars and, on the shag rug, Technicolor floor pillows; antique Venetian dioramas of Lilliputian-sized rooms are embedded into the white-oak walls, while a hanging cage traps gilded Barbie dolls by Micky Hoogendijk; on top of a shelf housing a record player, a photograph of Tom Waits sits next to a chicken skeleton; a regal white peacock perches on the side of the mercantile-style bar. There’s the master bedroom swaddled in Trove wall covering bearing vintage photography of 1920s opera boxes. And the two-story screened-in porch holds a table crafted from a 2,000-year-old cypress sinker log, a storied Boyd Elder cow skull, and four-foot glass lanterns from Tony Duquette’s estate.Indeed, Danneel and Duquette share a similar philosophy. “More is more is more!” Danneel says emphatically. “More is the most.” Still, the Ackleses' five-bedroom, 7,500-square-foot residence isn’t actually an ode to opulence but rather an evocative tribute to key passions at the core of their personalities: the music and aesthetics of the late ’60s, Austin’s art scene, and imaginative oddities and occultist ephemera, perhaps appropriate considering Jensen’s longtime role on the CW’s Supernatural.After deciding to leave Brentwood, California, and coming this close to putting in an offer on a Lake Austin fixer-upper, the couple set their gaze on a house three doors down, sans “for sale” sign. “As we drove by, Danneel and I both looked at our real estate agent and were like, ‘See, that is the kind of house we’re looking for,’” recalls Jensen. Adds Danneel, “we wanted something less ostentatious.” Fortunately, the owner was willing to sell, but the property was far from turnkey and required an overhaul to go from what Danneel calls the “Texas Tuscan look"—generic stuccoed track mansion—to a wood-clad ranch-style stunner.

Danneel, a Tony Duquette superfan, was over the moon when Santini brought the stained glass pendants she’d bought from his estate. Photo: Douglas Friedman

The slightly sunken living room with the deep blue banquette couch, white shag rug, macrame chair, and muscular oak beams is Jensen’s favorite space.Photo: Jeff Wilson

Jensen and Danneel enlisted Austin architect Paul Lamb and Abode principal interior designer Fern Santini to kickstart what ended up being a very collaborative renovation—even the Ackleses' eldest child, five-year-old JJ, got into the fun, choosing everything in her Pinterest-worthy bedroom. At their initial meeting with Santini, the potential for partnership was evident when she pulled up in an auspicious 1967 E-Type Jaguar. “I mean, it’s just like the coolest thing ever,” says Jensen of the car, which was made in the same year Danneel had said she wanted to recreate in the Austin home so as to pay tribute to the Laurel Canyon bungalow where the couple once lived. “People like Carly Simon had played guitar there,” Danneel says. “It was a magical little place. So when Fern pulls up in that car ... We just bonded over music and a love of that time period and had our vision right off the bat.”

Executing that vision involved blowing out the majority of the house’s interior, taking it down to the studs, and reconfiguring it. “It was very closed and very ‘90s,” says Santini. Extensive structural work was devised by Lamb, one of Santini's frequent creative conspirator. “Paul is from New Orleans and I’m from Louisiana, and we have the same odd sense of humor and style,” says Danneel, who saw a residential elevator he’d done entirely in red velvet and said, “That’s the guy for me!” The foursome worked beautifully together—that is, after Jensen learned early on to keep his mouth shut if and when he doubted any stylistic choices. When shown the idea for a rich, royal blue sofa, “I was like, ’Y’all are crazy!’” says Jensen. “But then I just thought, I’m not going to get in their way.”

Smart man, considering a highly personalized space began to unspool under Santini and Lamb's direction. “It was imperative that the house express the Ackleses—young, bold, and irreverent,” Lamb says. “It had to be full of humorous and endearing eccentricities and it needed to radiate a comforting yet exotic familiarity.” He simplified and opened spaces, flipped the feel from a masonry house to a wood-framed home—thanks to exposed beams, larger expanses of windows, and rich wooden ceilings—and, perhaps most transformational, added a breezy two-story screened porch that altered the entire profile. “The former house was straight-laced and vaguely Mediterranean,” Lamb says. “Now it is an eclectic, free-spirited, Austin-style lake house.” Santini calls it “a cross between Joni Mitchell and the Serge Gainsbourg–Jane Birkin thing that was going on in Paris at the same time. It’s very hip but it’s low-key.”

Musically, the home is rich with sound, thanks to Jensen’s collection of guitars and the McIntosh turntable Santini says she “has real fetish for, after spending my entire career trying to hide stereo equipment.” There’s also a surfeit of historical and meaningful music-related artwork—think photographs of Yasgur’s Farm in Woodstock and a house where Bob Dylan recorded. “The hand-scraped wood floors undulate quite heavily, and we’ve got these giant beams and wood all around that feel like you’re in the hull of a giant ship,” Jensesn says. “What that does is it creates an amazing acoustic sound. We’ve always had music in our lives, and we wanted to pass on that tradition.”

The parents of three also are active supporters of local art. “We’re not the type who need it to all be the same. That’s criminal to me, almost,” says Danneel of their home full of diverse pieces from Austin and Marfa, including female artists from galleries like Women and Their Work. Santini describes the pair as risk-takers who both led the charge on outside-the-box thinking and let her push the limits. In their third home together, the Ackleses hit their stride, nailing a personally reflective infusion of edge, humor, and spirit.

“It goes to that having a history, having a story,” says Jensen, who, with his wife, selects works based on a gut feeling as opposed to popularity or perceived value. It’s the same way Danneel approached design. “We have so many friends who come into the house and are like, ‘Oh my gosh, I love this—it’s so crazy and unexpected. But man, I would have never picked out all these things, and I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do it!’” she says. “I’ve heard this over and over, and I wish more people would just be brave and go with what makes them happy.”

The home’s entry was designed to feel like an outdoor living space according to Santini, who sourced an 1850s English table and unusual Swedish lantern from the 1820s to anchor the room. The woven stools are from Tidelli, and the headless deer with ferns are by Italy’s Imperfetto Lab.

Architect Paul Lamb’s significant removal of walls led to a feel-good expansiveness where there are no boundaries. “It all kind of flows,” says Jensen. “You never feel like you’re in just one room.” In the media room, they did the least amount of work, painting the dark ceiling trusses to lighten the space and putting a German smear on the orange-y fireplace to tone it down.

The most Texas room in the house is the Marfa-imbued dining space, where the couple’s cherished Boyd Elder bull skull hangs. It’s part of a 10-piece series from the ’70s, the most famous of which was on the cover of the Eagles’ Their Greatest Hits album. “Back in the ‘60s and ‘70s bands on tour wanted to have an artist with them, and Boyd was like the muse for the Eagles,” says Danneel, adding of the late artist, “I believe he dated Joni Mitchell, and she has one of the pieces.”

The slightly sunken living room with the deep-blue banquette couch, white shag rug, macrame chair, and muscular oak beams is Jensen’s favorite space. “There are just so many textures in that living room and vibrant colors, and it’s all surrounded by this amazing wood. I can just sit there and pick away at a guitar or play records all day long,” he says.

Behind the sofa is a gold birdcage artwork by Austin artist Micky Hoogendijk. It’s an observation on “women who seem to be trapped by money and possessions and they’re OK with it; they like living in that gilded cage,” says Danneel. “It looks intense but when you get close to it they’re all smiling and happy and unaware that they’re in this cage because they’re gold and perfect. For me that’s just somewhere I never want to be, so I was really attracted to that.”

Danneel spends a lot of time in the babies’ room (22-month-old twins Zeppelin and Arrow) and the kitchen, where the kids’ favorite toy is a rolling acrylic table from the ‘50s. (“Fern would have a heart attack,” she laughs.) They tore the space down to nothing and built it back from scratch. “It was a totally different feel, and very kind of country looking, which didn’t blend well with the rest of the house,” Jensen says. Now, to Lamb, “the kitchen’s glossy painted wood boards look like pinstripes, crisp and good-natured, like a happy kitchen in the Hamptons.”

“There’s not a space they don’t use,” says Santini of the house she worked on with Jensen and Danneel. The reimagined pool room taps into their proclivity for spooky oddities with framed tarot cards and a game table that could work for board games or even séances, says Lamb, who added a secondary kitchen for big gatherings with access to a barbecue area on the lawn, and a wine room.

A native Southerner, Danneel fought hard for the addition of a screened-in porch, which Lamb had the vision—inspired by Greenwood Plantation in St. Francisville—to make two stories tall. “I wanted more than anything to be able to sit out there, not get eaten alive by mosquitos, and look at the lake and watch the boats go by,” says the actress. Jensen’s favorite piece in the house is the long table, custom made using a 2,000-year-old cypress log that had sunk and was buried on the West Bank of New Orleans.

The bar—black walnut with black and white veined marble—is on one end of the large living room and is the site of frequent small parties involving music, either live or from the McIntosh turntable. The cabinets were specially made to light prized bourbons, and on the side is a white taxidermy peacock Santini tracked down over months. Flooring throughout the house is hand-scraped Texas post oak with character to spare.

The master bedroom and the adjacent sitting room are clad in reclaimed barn wood, juxtaposing the whimsical wallpaper covered in sections by Japanese-inspired barn door panels that allow for flexible boundaries. Jensen said of the scheme, “You guys are losing me, but it sounds awesome, so knock it out!” Danneel already owned the two petrified wood and resin log tables that sit in front of the vintage ‘50s daybed with Mongolian lamb, though the majority of what’s in the home was selected or made specifically for it.

Inspiration for their master bathroom shower came from an Architectural Digest story featuring a steel and glass shower in the home of Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka. Lit by Apparatus fixtures, Lamb conceived a simple vaulted space with a white oak board ceiling and fumed and cerused walnut cabinets with a slight Tansu feel. A Kyle Bunting cowhide rug is centered on the room, and Holly Hunt ombre-dyed handkerchief linen window treatments frame the lake view.

The pair’s five-year-old daughter, JJ, helped pick out all her own bedroom decor. “The more color the better,” says Danneel. Santini calls it “hippie in training.” Like in the rest of the home, her walls are plaster.

The ultra-private home looks out at a nature preserve across the water. Durable throw pillows around the house were made of old quilts purchased online. “We bought a lot of them and mixed them all up,” says Santini. “There’s nowhere in the house where you feel like you have to tip toe around or can’t sit. That was definitely intentional.”

Inside and out, Lamb and Santini ensured that the Ackleses’ Austin home “expresses them—young, bold, and irreverent. It had to be full of humorous and endearing eccentricities and it needed to radiate a comforting yet exotic familiarity.”

architecturaldigest

#Jensen Ackles #Danneel Ackles #JJ Ackles #Zeppelin Bram Ackles #Arrow Rhodes Ackles #Ackles Home: Austin #Architectural Digest Photoshoot 2018 #*#long post for ts

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365elephantsoap · 4 years

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CHICKEN MANSION

The chickens are still living in their old coop. There are still a few little adjustments that need to be made to their new space before they can move in officially. Their new space all started with the coop that JP gave us. The small run attached to the coop was way too small for our four chickens. We put them in it when we got the coop home and they barely had room to move around. That evening, Michael went to an open mic and I was alone at the house. I realized that the chickens had knocked the ramp from the coop and could not get inside for the night. It was already dark and I pondered how I was going to lift the run side of the old coop and herd chickens back into it at the same time. When I opened the new coop, they just stood there. So I picked them up one by one and placed them gently into the old coop. Except for Matilda, who decided to walk out of the new coop on her own, but then refused to go back into the old coop. I was the crazy lady in the backyard, talking to a chicken and a dog, because Josephine was out there “helping”.

We bought a 9 x 12 foot chicken enclosure and Micael removed the run from the new coop. We had hoped, maybe even expected, that the enclosure would come partially assembled in panels. The new enclosure came in a long box filled with poles and a roll of heavy duty chicken wire. Putting the poles together was the easy part. Wrapping the whole thing with the chicken wire was not so easy. One of us (me) had to be on the inside to help thread a zip-tie or a piece of wire through so that the chicken wire would be secured to the frame. When we got to the last section, the one with the door, I was trapped inside the coop until Michael could cut the chicken wire around the door. One of us found this situation to be pretty funny. On the days we have worked on the new coop, we have always let the chickens out of the old coop to roam around the yard. They have been very curious about the new space and there were times when I would turn around inside the coop and all four of them would be inside with me, pecking and scratching the ground. The day we worked on the last two sections of the enclosure, the chickens explored the yard, but they always ended up circling around us while we worked. At one point, Marguerite pecked at the chicken wire desperately trying to get inside. She needed to lay an egg. Michael lifted the old coop and she went right in and up to the nesting box. Her first instinct though was to go to the new coop. Their new space is going to be so nice. The new coop is easier to clean. There is a large door for easy access. No more lifting up a heavy coop to let the chickens out or get them back in. Michael always had to be the one to refill their water feeder because I can not lift the coop and slide the water feeder in at the same time.

Before we decided to replace the chicken coop, we talked about what would happen when the chickens die. We thought that maybe we would not replace them. Whenever we took a break from working on the enclosure, we would watch the chickens as they pecked and scratched around the yard. At one point, Dorothy snagged a fat slug and then there was a mad chase across the yard as the other chickens tried to steal it away. Michael said that we would wait until at least two chickens died and then replace them with one. Instead of having four chickens, we’d have three. That is what we had originally intended when the first coop was built. Three chickens are probably a better fit for our space. Though I have to admit, I enjoy watching our four chickens and how they interact with each other. I enjoy their individual personalities. We might just end up with another one of those situations where Michael tells me to pick one and then I look at him with big eyes and say “maybe we should get two in case one of them doesn’t make it.”

We’ll see.

#chickens #urban farming #coop

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rapperkookz · 5 years

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ironman!namjoon

a/n wow ok so this is the start of my avengers!bts headcanons and yuh they all have set in stone story lines but im gonna shake it up a lil bit xD

word count: 2.3k

____________________

kim namjoon

you see

the kim namjoon is a smart kid

child genius if i say so myself

and boy he knew it

no eleven year old chooses to write a paper about hubble’s law of cosmic expansion for a science project instead of making a trifold and using liquid cement

no, namjoon writes a 4-page paper in apa style with a magnificent abstract

he got an A on it of course

his brilliance only goes up from there

and with his rich parents, he has the opportunity-

to which yoongi and seokjin would say “privilege”

but let’s just say “opportunity”

to do incredible research and studies and experiments

his dad has a science lab built just for him in their house

by nineteen, namjoon has taken over a good percentage of his parents’ business

kim enterprises

growing up, namjoon had an idea that his parents’ business was pretty expansive and were involved in many areas

but it wasn’t until he was placed in board meetings at eighteen when he absorbed how powerful his family really was

and sure the business aspect of him was aight, but he loved his lab and would rather leave the negotiating to his mom and dad

you grew up with namjoon, you were also from a wealthy family

your fathers were childhood friends and they grew their businesses together

although kim enterprises surpassed your family’s wealth easily, the bond between your families were still tight

namjoon was stubborn and a smartass

but he wasn’t a jerk, just...very selective with his true self

he’s also a bit spoiled, but with his parents who gave into his every wish, it just turned out that way

at 21, namjoon’s parents got into a plane crash on the way to a meeting in london and it unfortunately claimed their lives

namjoon became the sole CEO and heir of kim enterprises

he asked you for help because damn he couldn’t run a whole business by himself??

and you weren’t needed yet to run your own family business

so you didn’t mind helping out your friend

things were running okay with little kinks in the road, but the business was still thriving and so namjoon was okay with that

until one day when you and namjoon were hanging out in his family mansion and it was broken into

in a crazy haze, you were captured and abducted

namjoon knew they were after him and not you and for the first time in his life:

he had absolutely no idea what to do

he had to find you of course but he didn’t know where to start

namjoon couldn’t tell your parents because they would absolutely kill him for not protecting you

and honestly he wanted to beat himself up too for that fact

thanks to his brilliant mind, he managed to track wherever the fuck you were being held captive

he took his private jet out to a nearby place and did the rest by foot

this was basically a suicide mission and he knew it, but to hell with it

namjoon would exchange his life for yours, you’ve been with him since birth

back to you

you were being held in a cell

your captors needed namjoon to build something for them, but since you weren’t him, you were useless to them

you thought they were going to kill you

but instead they just locked you up

you didn’t expect to see namjoon being pushed into your cell with you

“joon what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I uh...I found you.”

you thought he would have told your dad and then like officers would come and find you

not namjoon, alone.

“did you expect to just walk in and sweet talk them into letting me go?”

he scratched the back of his neck

“for a genius, you’re fucking stupid.”

“okay, truthfully, i thought I could turn myself in and that would convince them to let you go, but i guess they just took both of us haha.”

for weeks you two were held prisoner, your captors taking namjoon in the morning and returning with him at night

you were just stuck in there

but whenever joon came back, he had a new injury to him

your heart hurt whenever you saw him come back, pain all over his face

you would do your best into aiding him, but you didn’t really have much options in the small cell

it was one night when he didn’t come back and your mind automatically assumed that he was dead

you started sobbing in the cell, god you were going crazy

you needed to get out of there

and then when you heard some whimpering and cries of pain, your drive only got bigger bc you knew it was namjoon

you started clanging on the cell and screaming for them to let you go

and then from the corner of your eye, you spotted joon crawling to you, all bloodied up

you gasped spotting the large wound on his chest

but before you could start losing your mind about your best friend was going to die, he calmly started instructing you to build a generator for him

you: joon! I’m not as smart as you, this thing is going to fucking blow up

joon: y/n, calm down and listen to me. you can do this, i believe in you

also joon: connect that wire to the plug...black long thing to red square.

as the hours went on into the night, namjoon sounded weaker and weaker, making you urgent into finishing his little generator

you started holding his hand

“joon, it’s done, okay? it’s done.”

“this is going to hurt like a bitch, but put that generator in my wound. and shove my shirt in my mouth, shut me up with it or we’ll get caught.”

“w-what?”

“just do it y/n!”

you shoved the triangle thing you made (with his help) into his chest and shut your eyes as you basically gagged joon quiet

within minutes he started to get better and you felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders

the last thing you remember before crashing was joon saying “thank you, y/n, now go rest.”

you were awaken by a huge bang

lo and behold, namjoon’s in a tin suit and he blasted your cell open

you could barely register namjoon breaking the roof of your cell and grasping you by the waist and flying you out of there

his tin suit failed him within minutes, the thrusters he built at his feet giving in

but the important thing was that you two made it out and crashlanded in a lake

the place where you were held captive burst into flames

you were founded by your father’s men

(he had some great influence in the army)

and fuck you and joon suffered from one hell of a ptsd

for a while, joon became distant

i mean, could you blame him? y’all got kidnapped and almost died

you tried to reach out but his house security kept denying you

cute side note: namjoon’s jarvis is called moni

“god dammit moni, i just wanna talk to him”

“my apologies miss/sir y/n, master kim doesn’t want any visitors at the moment.”

the next time joon talked to you was months after you two were found, he invited you over to his house and his security system led you straight to his lab

you walked in to see your best friend in a golden technological suit, the triangle generator you helped him make glowing on the torso of his suit

“joon, what the fuck are you doing?”

he sat you down and explained how after your whole kidnapping, he realized that he had a gift

and he could either be sitting around waiting to be kidnapped again for his mind to be used for the worst

or he could be doing something for the greater good

you honestly couldn’t follow, couldn’t he just use his wealth to donate to charities or something?

but no, he wanted to be proactive and idk be some kind of superhero

“why are you telling me all this?”

“well, not only are you my best friend and we have suffered through hell together...if I happen to die out there, I’m leaving you in charge of kim enterprises.”

“huh die out where? joon you’re not going back there.”

he then told you how he was forced to build weapons while you were kidnapped and how his parents dealt with underground business with terrible people and now it’s come to bite him and kim enterprises in the ass

“i’m going back. If you want, you can stay here and monitor me. moni has complete access to my suit, it is my eyes and ears.”

“god, just...come back, don’t die on me, please.”

you end up watching him complete whatever mission he had for himself

but also how he got his ass beat

you almost missed a pair of boys save him from where he was

they were quick to the eye, dressed all in black, you just remember one with a bow and arrow

fast forward another couple months

joon was safe, thank god, and just doing insane upgrades on his suit and what not

you called him golden boy, but he said that name just didn’t suit him

you see that pun i put there ;)

the two of you were discussing the art exhibit he needed to attend when moni alerted him of visitors

surprise surprise it was the same two boys that you remember saving him, except they were dressed casually this time

“you must be y/n, namjoon hyung’s better half.”

namjoon glared at the boy, “shut up, jimin.”

the other one spoke, “we need you both to come to headquarters.”

“omg I’m not being kidnapped again, am i?”

the three of them laughed

you were told that jimin and the other boy, taehyung, were agents under BTS, a protection initiative created by their boss, Mr. Bang

and now, namjoon was being recruited to be part of that initiative

BTS is a specialized sub-unit to the larger Avengers motion

it put your mind at ease knowing that namjoon wasn’t alone in his whole fighting crime and saving lives ordeal

the media deemed namjoon’s golden suit as “iron man”

and although you personally liked your “golden boy” name better

joon had a complete liking to the other name

you witnessed when they recruited more agents to BTS

namjoon began to have a nice bond with the other boys

and it made you happy, of course, knowing that he had others by his side

but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being replaced as his best friend

especially when he and the wakandan king, jung hoseok, became rather close

namjoon first realized his feelings for you when kim seokjin, aka the god of thunder, was flirting with you during one of joon’s house parties

he almost had a fist fight with him

but the other boys held them back from beating each other up

a supersuit vs a god with insane powers? that wasn’t going to end well at all

and so namjoon secretly pined for you

you were still doing business together, but it was mostly you because he was busy now with world saving duties

you were the one to convince him to recruit their youngest and final member to BTS

the spider kid, jeon jungkook

namjoon becomes jungkook’s mentor

and it’s quite endearing

but jk’s also the one to spill to you that namjoon has had the hugest crush on you for the longest time

kid just can’t keep his mouth shut sometimes

all the boys knew that namjoon was basically in love with you

they even helped him come up with this elaborate event of confessing to you

...which all went to hell bc yoongi got triggered and smashed everything

yoongi felt so bad afterwards

but all ended well bc of course you loved namjoon back

he was your best friend and your #1 since day 1

namjoon ends up revealing himself as iron man probably a year after the whole BTS unit was solidified

the press was hell for kim enterprises

which you had to mainly contain :/

but you know he’s a charmer in front of the camera

your parents were a bit iffy when they found out you were dating iron man

but if anyone could take care of you, they knew it would be namjoon

aw im emo

dating your best friend/business partner is a rollercoaster

you’ve had your fair share of heart attack moments, waiting for him after a battle or a mission

namjoon has put his life in danger and will continue to put his life in danger and you’re just going to have to deal with that

he hates that he also puts your life in danger just by association, but you have a lot of protection, courtesy of Mr. Bang

you wear his suit sometimes and try to fly it for fun

he finds you cute

builds you a suit, yourself, but you don’t wear it often

mostly bc you know there’s some weapons included for safety and that scares you a bit

you end up merging businesses with kim enterprises

and run the whole rodeo bc he’s too busy saving the world

but you always keep him updated on what’s happening

he’s become less arrogant after being with the boys and after dating you

but he’s still a smartass

uses kim enterprises’ wealth and resources for the improvement of BTS

it’s pretty useful if you ask me

namjoon becomes the spokesperson for BTS ;)

he and his boys save the world on the regular

but he wouldn’t be saving the world if you didn’t save his world first

u fucking wu

that last part was cheesy but am i sorry about it?

nah

7-6-19

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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years

Photo

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

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QUEST 07: DISHONOUR AMONG THIEVES

QUEST SUMMARY:

Due to his status as the World Guardian, Jahaan wound up as part of Zamorak’s heist team. Their task? Steal the Stone of Jas from Sliske and return its power to Zamorak. Jahaan gets to learn more about a god propaganda had always skewed, but will he be on board with Zamorak’s plan in the end…

CHAPTER 2: ABSTRACT OF ZAMORAK

“Care for a drink?” Zamorak held out an engraved chalice, the inscription a foreign dialect that was painful to look at. “I don’t know why assholes come into my churches and steal my wine. I’d make a mint if I just straight up sold it. Go legitimate and all.”

So yes, Jahaan did take the meeting. Right on time he used the communication device that whisked him away… somewhere. He was underground, that’s for sure. The claustrophobic feel of gravity assured him of that.

Zamorak had invited him into a chamber of sorts, akin to the dining room of a haunted mansion. The deity really did have a taste for the theatrical, what with the vampyric ornaments and arcane fixtures. Also, crimson. LOTS of crimson.

Zamorak practically blended into the walls.

He sat Jahaan down in a grand armchair of sorts, donned with decorative bones, and it made Jahaan feel like a supervillain.

Sniffing a faint laugh, Jahaan took the chalice and allowed Zamorak to fill it up to the brim with the thick red liquid, dark like blood. That last thought gave Jahaan pause before he put it to his lips, but after a quick sniff and being overwhelmed by the alcoholic, fruity scent, he assured himself it was indeed wine. “Thanks. I didn’t think Mahjarrat could drink, though.”

“We can’t,” Zamorak confirmed, taking a large gulp. “I’ll have to get it out of me later. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy some good booze for now though.”

Not wanting to press for anymore details, Jahaan asked, “Where on Gielinor are we? Are… are we still on Gielinor?”

Laughing, Zamorak said, “Of course we’re still on Gielinor. This is temporary base of operations, courtesy of an old friend of mine - Bilrach - who you’ll meet later on. Dug the place himself, crazy bastard. Crazy, loyal, dedicated bastard, that is. You humans would know of it as ‘Daemonheim’.”

Eyes wide, Jahaan audibly gasped. Yes, he had heard of Daemonheim, mainly from stories. A band of Fremennik warriors decided to sail west around the globe, discovering uncharted islands and unclaimed lands as they did so. Daemonheim was their greatest find. Despite being a part of continental Gielinor, no-one had ventured that far in centuries, the unforgiving terrain putting a fatal halt to would-be adventurers. Thanks to the Freminnick, the place was now accessible, though you should pray for those who dare to enter the dungeons beneath the ancient castle atop the snow. Floor upon floor of monsters, puzzles, hazards and traps. No-one had ever made it to the bottom floor; the lucky ones retreated to the surface, the others were not so fortunate. No-one knew who had built such a place, or why. No-one, it seems now, except Jahaan.

Smirking, Zamorak remarked, “I’m glad you’re impressed. Not many have had the honour of stepping on such hallowed ground. It’s a good place to regroup, after the battle with Saradomin didn’t go as well as planned…”

“Yeah, how are the Zamorakians taking the defeat?” Jahaan inquired, taking a sip of the wine, far too bitter for his tastes.

“Better than you’d think. We lost a lot of forces, but I’m still swinging, and so are my Mahjarrat. Now I’m gonna to bypass this ridiculous little contest of Sliske’s and take back the Stone. Let’s see Saradomin stand tall then!”

Zamorak took a sip from his red wine, his eyes thoughtful and calculated, as the silence stretched on. After a while, he finally spoke up, “World Guardian, have you ever been told about Sliske’s plays?”

Jahaan furrowed his brow, stopping mid-sip, suddenly worried. “No…”

Zamorak grinned, the flesh stretching and pulling across bone. “Man, you’re going to love this. Sliske’s always been a twisted bastard, but this put it to whole new heights. See, back in the days of the Zarosian Empire, we Mahjarrat were given pretty high-class roles - our reward for taking out the Menaphites. Half of us got chosen as generals and lieutenants in the army - known as 'Legati' in Infernal - while the other half were churchleaders, or 'Pontifixes'. Sliske, due to his… unusual predilections... was given the rank of Praefectus Praetorio - the head of Senntisten’s secret police. Investigation, spying, interrogation… you can see how the role was built for him. In his free time, he was always writing. Stories, plays, even pathetic attempts at poetry. His plays were the most fucked up, performed for the top ranks of Senntisten, like urbane demons, bureaucrats… you know, the types of assholes that could afford to watch his nonsense. To make the plays, he rounded up the low caste and homeless, dressed them up in costumes, and placed upon each a crude wooden mask, which he whittled himself. Sliske gave the word, and the masks started doing their thing; they’d speak aloud, control the actor’s movements, making ‘em jerkily act and mime his play like demented puppets. Sometimes the actors actually stabbed each other to death with their weapons at the play's climax. In one show, one of the actors died - probably of some disease - in the middle of the performance, but the mask kept animating his corpse and the show went on. Sick, right? Worst part is, the audience lapped it up! Sliske went on to perform it about a dozen or so more times before growing bored - as he is prone to do - and moving onto something else. No-one dared speak up against him. After all, who wants to be at the centre of a Praetorian investigation?”

Mouth hung open, Jahaan sat there in horror, his mind doing him the courtesy of picturing every grotesque and gruesome detail. He was starting to feel nauseous because of it, and the wine probably wasn’t helping matters. It took him a while before he could collect himself enough to exclaim, “Didn’t… didn’t Wahisietel say something?!”

Zamorak laughed sharply and so suddenly that Jahaan spilt a bit of his wine. “His brother gave up on his ways long before that. Sliske’s always been fucked in the head, even back on Freneskae, playing with corpses with childlike glee. There’s something seriously wrong with him. There was one of our kind, old Nabor - boring as dry brick but he was pretty sharp. He ran the insane asylum in Senntisten, became quite the psychologist while he did. He once remarked to me how he’d love to study Sliske, to really figure out what was up with him. Never dared invite him for a session, though. I used to see him and Wahisietel chatting - they were close. No doubt Sliske came up in their conversations.”

Jahaan made a mental note to confer with Wahisietel when the opportunity arose.

But in all this, one thing became clear to him more than ever before: Sliske knew everything about him, but he knew nothing of Sliske.

Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, Jahaan rounded back to something less… horrifying. “Senntisten doesn’t seem like such a bad place. Your kind were well taken care of, from what you tell me, so why’d you leave Zaros?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Zamorak confessed, his fingers, unblemished and marble-white, scratching absently at his face. “Ask my followers and they’ll all tell you a different story. Some think it was just a political coup, that I wanted to gain power with no endgame, or that I’d had a falling out with the ‘Empty Lord’. Truth is, we needed to break free from Zaros. He wanted to know our every move, our every thought. When we went on missions, Zaros made us take along a man named Perjour, someone he’d cursed to be his bibliographer. Everything thought that man had, every single thing he witnessed, would be transcribed in a little book, which Zaros would sift through, looking for any seeds of betrayal from his followers. It was oppressing.”

“So how did you get around that?” Jahaan inquired, drawn in by the energy Zamorak brought to his tales.

Grinning wickedly, Zamorak boasted, “I stole the book, switched it with a copy. Zaros was none the wiser. And thus, the seeds of rebellion were sewn.”

The last comment was followed by a wink as he swirled around the wine in his class, looking all-too proud of himself. It seemed all Mahjarrat were capable of that unique form of unnerving smugness.

But something still stuck in Jahaan’s craw; he hesitated, and Zamorak picked up on this. “Come on, just come out with it.”

Exhaling deeply, Jahaan begun, “Alright… your chaos theory hasn’t been painted in the best light across Gielinor. Is all of it really propaganda? What about the Culinaromancer? Count Malak? Lord Iban? And don’t get me started on those dark wizards…”

Rolling his eyes, Zamorak’s annoyance looked of one who had dealt with this before. “Okay, yes, we have a few bad eggs. It’s a damn shame cos we started out so promising. Many came to me because they were fleeing or rejecting some aspect of authority within the Empire, and a philosophy that prized individuality over structure, society or government was just what they were after. But over time this developed into a very unhealthy anarchism; some followers ‘misinterpret’ my philosophy, twisting my words and using it as an excuse to steal, torment, attack… wanting to watch the world burn is nothing I’ve ever preached. But Saradominsts take these few radicals and think we’re all like that. They spew out propaganda against us, saying we’re all evil monsters and anarchists. The few have ruined it for the many.”

“I hate that people think I’m evil,” Zamorak continued, gulping down another swig of wine and instantly refilling himself. “Yeah, I’ve done some pretty bad shit in my time, but who hasn’t? War is messy. If you want your hands clean, become a chef. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for the betterment of my followers, for the Mahjarrat, and for Gielinor. Saradominism is all about ‘join with me and you’ll never have strife again’. We all know that’s just bullshit. Zamorakianism is all about ‘strength through chaos’, about knowing that life can deal you a crappy hand, but it’s that struggle and misery that can shape who you are and make you into a stronger, better person. Take you, World Guardian - I doubt your life has been all roses and daisies, right?”

“You could say that.”

“I AM saying that. But tell me, think back… if all that hadn’t happened to you, would you be where you are now, decked out in fine armour, drinking fine wine, talking to a damn fine god?”

A thin smile spread across Jahaan’s face. He understood.

As Zamorak spoke more about his chaos philosophy, Jahaan was inclined to buy what Zamorak was selling. A lot of his ideologies matched with Jahaan’s own views, and the deity was nothing if not captivating.

It’s just a shame some of his followers are so unbearable, Jahaan internally groaned at the thought of Zemouregal.

But then again, when it came to philosophy, Jahaan’s world view overlapped a lot with that of Zarosianism. Guthixianism, too. After all, once you’re there for the final words of one of the world’s most powerful deities, you form a connection.

Saradominsm did have some decent arguments, Jahaan would admit to himself, but he could never fall on board with the ideology, and definitely not the lifestyle. As for Armadyl, he hadn’t ever really heard much from the winged deity, aside from his triumph over Bandos. It was too early to call a judgement on him yet.

There was always the Menaphite Pantheon, the ‘go-to’ religion for the desert-born.

Gahh… these labels serve more harm than good… Jahaan grumbled to himself, fighting down another gulp of the wine.

While Zamorak tended to some business, the details of which he never specified, Jahaan was offered a teleport to the central chamber of the lair. Feeling it might be considered rude to refuse, and not wanting to accidentally go through the wrong door into one of Daemonheim’s rumoured horror chambers, Jahaan accepted, and with Jahaan’s permission, Zamorak's spell whisked him away.

The centre part of the lair Jahaan was as over the top as it was terrifying. Complete with lava fountains, torches of tall flames and crackling fire, grotesque chiselled statues of beasts and nightmares, and a crimson tiled floor with the Zamorakian symbol crudely embedded into it… this place didn’t exactly scream ‘happy fun time’. In fact, if Zamorak was trying to shake the ‘evil villain’ image the Saradominist propaganda department were creating, this wasn’t helping.

The chamber wasn’t massive in size, but its grandiose excessiveness more than made up for it.

Jahaan manifested in the centre of the room; a throne comprised of black marble and blood red horns strung across it directly faced him, while short hallways to the east and west had imposing doors adorned with skulls at either end.

The heat was also comparable to that of Freneskae.

Immediately, countless sets of eyes leered at him from all around, the present company of gathered Zamorakians all stopping to size up the newest arrival.

Feeling awkward, but not wanting to let it show, Jahaan strode over to one of the large pillars and casually leaned up against it, crossing his arms over his chest with an air of defiance, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be here. However, he carefully avoided eye contact with anyone, subtly exploring the room with a low glance.

There were two Mahjarrat that Jahaan didn’t recognise from the Ritual of Rejuvenation. One, a bulky looking fellow draped in thick, tattered cloaks. There was a presence about him, a power that rattled through his very being. He looked solid; while all Mahjarrat are technically immortal, this one actually felt it. It was almost unnerving. Yet, undermining that were his eyes - they looked haunted, flicking between the ceiling, the walls, the floor, like he was hearing sounds from all directions and trying to gravitate towards the strongest voice.

But if he missed the Ritual, why doesn’t he look all... half-dead? Jahaan pondered to himself, hoping he didn’t look like he was staring.

The other Mahjarrat, on the other hand, did look worse for wear. Hazeel, he was known as. Jahaan had heard stories about his cult of followers in Ardougne, and how he’d ruled over the lands way back in the Fourth Age with brutality and fear. It was the Carnillean Family that became his end, alongside Saradominist peasants who, upon learning magic and runecrafting, wished to liberate their lands from the Zamorakian tyranny. They didn’t manage to kill Hazeel, but they trapped him in a state of torpor, neither living nor dead. His skeletal appearance did have a rather blood-curdling quality about it. Unlike the other Mahjarrat, he had very large horns protruding from his forehead, looking quite similar to the headpiece Azzanadra wore. These, however, were sharpened into deadly points.

Jahaan wasn’t quite sure how the two Mahjarrat could look so different - one full of life and vigor, the other frail and weak.

If I tread carefully, perhaps I could find out? Jahaan thought to himself, not quite looking forward to conversing with even more Zamorakian Mahjarrat than he had to, but his curiosity drove him onwards.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he strolled over to the rejuvenated looking one, greeting him with a respectful nod of his head. “I’m Jahaan. Zamorak sent for me. I don’t think we’ve met before...”

The trailed-off sentence was an indication to fill in the blanks, but the Mahjarrat seemed rather perturbed at Jahaan’s presence. Jahaan didn’t think he was going to get a response and planned on awkwardly shuffling away, pretending that never happened as he did so, but the Mahjarrat’s sudden response startled him into staying. “Bilrach. I am Bilrach. Forgive me, human contact is taking some getting used to.”

Seems nice enough, Jahaan decided with relief. Not wanting to let the conversation go dry for too long, he continued, “Pleased to meet you, Bilrach. I was at the last Ritual of Rejuvenation, but I don’t remember seeing you there. You… you look well, though. Lots of… skin.”

“I was digging,” Bilrach bluntly replied. “Always digging, digging, digging… they thought this to be my tomb, but it was my salvation. The rift did not provide answers alone, though.”

Quickly, Jahaan deduced Bilrach was not shuffling with a full deck. "Ah yes, Zamorak mentioned that you dug this place yourself."

Bilrach nodded. “Centuries I dug, trying to find the rift between realities, the place where the bond between worlds is at its weakest. Here, I was going to find Zamorak and pull him back to Gielinor. I did not succeed, but this chamber is the product of my labour.”

“But if you missed the Ritual, how come you look so powerful?” Jahaan inquired, hoping the subtle compliment would work in his favour.

From the shift in Bilrach's demeanor, it seemed to work. “Ah, yes! Instead, after tumbling through the dimensions, I arrived on my home planet of Freneskae. There are no longer any of my kind there, but other tribes once existed. The Chelon-Mah and Mahserrat, born from the same energy as we Mahjarrat. It was then that I had an epiphany. Hmm.”

Silence. After it was clear Bilrach was indeed lost inside his own head, Jahaan gently prodded, “And what was that?”

“Ah, yes. The other tribes were also bound to rituals, needing the life force of those that perish to sustain themselves. The Mahserrat decided to forgo this process, resigning themselves to a fate without rejuvenation. But the Chelon-Mah… hmm. The Chelon-Mah did the opposite. They concluded that only the strongest should live, yes. One almighty being, commanding the power of the entire tribe. I remember it. The battle blazed across the horizon – a glorious sight to behold, indeed. For weeks they fought tirelessly, until only one remained with all their power. A brutal incarnation of the Chelon-Mah tribe; the physical embodiment of war. Yes, his might on the battlefield was unparalleled.”

“What does this have to do with your epiphany?”

“Epiphany?” Bilrach blinked. “Oh, yes. I knew that after thousands of years whilst the Mahjarrat have grown stronger, the Chelon-Mah would have diminished. With the Mahserrat all likely to have perished and no kin to sacrifice, he would never have been able to rejuvenate. I returned to Gielinor with the once-great Chelon-Mah captive. I slew him upon my very own Ritual Marker.”

Jahaan gasped. “That worked?!”

“Apparently so. The rejuvenation was an unintended effect of his death. A strange power spread throughout the surface - you may have even felt it yourself. My kin would have believed me perished. But I live.”

“But if you didn’t know you’d be rejuvenated, why did you kill him?”

“On Freneskae we were at war with the Chelon-Mah; with no kin left to test his strength he turned to the Mahjarrat,” Bilrach gravely explained, his eyes flitting over to the two doorways parallel to him. “He killed many of my brethren. Taking his life was a justice long overdue. As the only Mahjarrat at the Ritual Marker when I slew him, I was able to absorb all his power, hmm. I thought I could use this new power to bring back Zamorak. Alas, I still did not find the answers I sought. It would seem it is exceptionally difficult for anyone but a god to open a portal between worlds.”

Remembering Zamorak’s words from before, Jahaan thought to inquire into why Bilrach defected from Zaros to Zamorak, but by the change in tone and demeanour he received from Bilrach, he wished he’d never rocked the boat.

“You know nothing of the Mahjarrat, impling, and neither did Zaros,” Bilrach’s gravelly voice sounded like he’d inhaled too much Daemonheim dust. Though his voice was monotonous and grounded, his eyes seemed to dart and flicker. “We were warriors, brave survivors. In the Empire we grew soft. Zaros took our culture from us, tried to tame our nature, making us priests and bureaucrats - such positions are a disgrace to the Mahjarrat name! Zamorak reminded us of our birthright.”

“Ah, I see you’re getting yourself acquainted,” a feminine voice faded in beside the pair, relieving the tension Jahaan had created. Moia walked up to stand beside Bilrach with the friendliest smile her contorted face could manage. “Jahaan, why don’t I introduce you to everyone else while we await my master’s presence?”

“Sure,” Jahaan agreed, following Moia’s lead with a quick look over his shoulder at Bilrach, who seemed to be muttering something under his breath. To Moia, he asked, “Do you know Bilrach well?”

“I do,” Moia replied, solemnly. “He and I held hands as we walked into the rift together. But we were torn apart. I thought him lost. I found Zamorak, and he arrived on Freneskae.”

Stopping their walk across the chamber, Moia leaned down towards Jahaan to speak lowly, “Bilrach has sacrificed a lot in order to provide my master sanctuary. When I first found him, he was… unrecognisable. Now, he tells me the voices have subsided at the very least. I… I still fear for him.”

Not exactly sure what he was expected to say, Jahaan went with, “I’ll look out for him.”

This was the wrong answer; Moia shot him a glare that could melt mithril. “He doesn’t need you looking out for him.”

She stormed off across the chamber, sharply motioning for Jahaan to follow with a reluctant grunt of, “Come on.”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#zamorak #moia #bilrach #hazeel #khazard #zemouregal #enakhra

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