#he was kneeling at a dining chair and using it as a fort to play with his action figures
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i do love my dad and he's grown a lot as a person, but i do wish he'd go to therapy for his own sake. it affects him in so many ways that he doesn't even realize
#like you know how colonial american puritanism infected this country with Productivity and the Need To Be Productive#my dad HAS to do stuff on his days off and its wearing him down but he still makes himself work#and in a way i get it--construction and building is his artistic passion#its like how there are days where i really need to rest my hand due to muscle strain#but i draw anyways because drawing is my favorite thing in the world#so i do understand it#but he's aging and he's going to wear himself out#'a body at rest stays at rest and i'll rest on the conveyor belt into the crematorium'#dad if you die before im 50 im kicking your ass#mickey.txt#and that's not getting into the healing from how he was raised because good fucking lord#like he's so proud of how 'i deserved every beating i got from my dad' which is. a lot#but then i remember the story he told me of when he was 5 or 6#he was kneeling at a dining chair and using it as a fort to play with his action figures#and his father beat him with a belt for it#he always seems to forget that one when bragging about how well he was beat#and my dad was considered spoiled by his siblings!#my aunt caroline was beaten so badly once she was taken by child protective services!#and that was in the 60s!!!#just. consdering how my dad never went to therapy or healed from what he went though he's miraculously patient and gentle#and im grateful for that#but good lord. does he still need to heal#abuse tw#child abuse tw
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Stormy Days and Blanket Forts w/ Wilbur Soot
A/N: Hi! This is like a weird combination of fic and unstructured ideas/blurbs? Sorry if it’s no good, I don’t have the energy to write a full fic but I had to get this idea out of my head. Thanks for reading :)
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~The weather station had been warning of a bad storm for days. It was predicted that the wind and rain would cause power outages all over your town and the surrounding counties. You weren’t too concerned, as storms like this were common where you grew up, but Wilbur had been buzzing around all morning. He wanted to make sure both of your phones and laptops were charged completely before the power went out. You busied yourself by prepping and cooking homemade chicken noodle soup and hot chocolate in the kitchen.
~While you cooked you noticed that Wilbur was making quite a bit of noise in the other room and you made a mental note to go check on him when it was safe to walk away from the stove without burning anything. Whatever he was doing involved dragging furniture around and humming softly to himself. Once the soup and hot chocolate were finished and poured into thermoses to keep warm you wandered into the living room to see what your boyfriend was up to.
~When you walked into the living room Will was nowhere in sight, but what you saw instead made your jaw drop. Wilbur had been busy creating one of the most extravagant blanket forts you had ever seen. He had set up your dining room chairs so that he could create high walls made of flannel sheets. There were piles of comforters making up the floor of the fort, and several pillows strewn around to create a cozy nest. Both yours and Will’s laptops were sat on the floor at the entrance of the fort.
~Suddenly Wilbur appeared with a stack of DVD cases in his arms. You felt your face heat up as you scanned the options he had gathered. You didn’t own many DVDs anymore, but the ones you did have were children’s movies that you couldn’t part with. Amongst the titles were Casper, Spirit, Flubber, and Monster’s Inc. Will grinned at you as he made his way across the room to dump the movies on the floor next to the laptops.
“Baby, what is all of this?” You asked quietly, moving to kneel next to Will on the floor.
“Well, when we were first dating you told me how storms used to scare you when you were little,” He started, and you felt your heart squeeze with emotion. “And I remembered you saying your mom used to build blanket forts with you to distract you from the thunder outside.” He finished, gesturing towards his fabric masterpiece.
“Oh, Will…” You started, but before you could say anything else you were interrupted by the lights going out. You were grateful for the moment of darkness because the tears in your eyes were dangerously close to overflowing. You had told him that story over a year ago and he had remembered.
~You heard Wilbur rummaging around in the dark, and then there was a click and he stood in front of you with a flashlight in his hand. He moved around the room, lighting small candles he had laid out on the mantle and coffee tables. Before long the room was fully illuminated by the warm glow of candle light. You took the flashlight and retrieved the thermoses of soup and hot chocolate, bringing them back to the living room.
“What movie do you want to watch first?” Wilbur asked, spreading the DVD cases on the floor in front of you. You thought for a moment before answering.
“Okay… Don’t judge me, but I’m going to pick this one!” You said laughing, plucking the case from the floor and hugging it to your chest. It was Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School. You and Will had gotten into arguments before over which Scooby Doo movie was the best. You preferred this one, but Wilbur swore that Scooby Doo on Zombie Island was the superior Scooby movie. He laughed as he took the DVD from you, sliding the disk into the laptop.
~You continued to watch him as he hit play on the laptop and crawled into the blanket fort, settling into the nest of pillows and blankets. His face was mostly masked by shadows but you could see his brilliant smile even in the low lighting. He stretched his arms towards you and made grabby hands, silently asking you to join him. You crawled in and snuggled into his arms, as he nuzzled his chin into your hair, sighing with content.
~You laid like that for the duration of the movie, Wilbur’s arms wrapped around you. You played absentmindedly with his long fingers, only half paying attention to the movie on the laptop screen. You couldn’t help but smile everytime he snorted at the cartoon characters. If you could have lived in that moment forever, you would have. Content and cozy in your lover's arms, watching a movie in comfortable silence.
~You spent the rest of the evening watching children’s movies and playing games that Wilbur had squirreled away inside the blanket fort. First was a fast-paced game of Uno, which ended in you swatting Wilbur’s cards out of his grasp while he hit you with several “draw 4” cards in a row (was that even legal gameplay?) , and he laughed maniacally when you dramatically stuffed the cards back in the box and tossed it out of the opening of the fort.
~And the next morning, you woke up in the warmth of Wilbur’s arms, faint slivers of sunlight sifting through the walls of the blanket fort. You laid there, listening to Will’s heartbeat and thinking about how lucky you were to be in love with a man who kept the childlike wonder alive. Who remembered the smallest details of your stories and brought them to life all over again.
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TITLE: What would you consider a trainer, a human, an android?
CHAPTER TITLE: A New Home
WARNINGS AND RATINGS: Rated T for Canon typical violence, swearing
FANDOMS: Detroit: Become Human and Pokémon
SUMMARY:How much of the story would change if Pokémon were part of the same universe as androids?
(In which the universe shifts slightly right because someone had asked “What if?”
And such, Pokémon are introduced, because that’s just the natural effect of this.)
Todd stops the car, and he gets out, scowling all the while. After a moment of deliberation, Kara follows, the recently returned Poké Balls attached to her belt, entering the household after Todd.
The house itself is old, paint peeling from the weatherboards, overgrown weeds consuming the yard. The house is not very nice, but Kara wasn’t programmed to have opinions.
She’s only programmed to serve, to cook, to clean, to obey.
Todd sighs, before saying “You’ve been gone for two weeks, so the place is a mess,” gesturing to the entire house. “You do the housework, the washing, you cook the meals, and you take care of…” He pauses, and looks around, muttering “Goddamnit, where the fuck’s the brat gone now?”
He turns to the stairs, and yells “Alice!” a couple of times before looking at the foot of the staircase and muttering “Ah, there you are.”
Kara turns to look at the girl sitting on the steps, clutching a Vulpix to her chest. She looks to be nine or ten years old, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and brown eyes staring at her. “That’s Alice, you look after her.” Todd orders, hands on hips. “Homework, bath, all that crap. Got it?”
Kara only replies with a “Yes Todd.”
“Get started down here then you do upstairs.” Todd orders, nodding to the stairs.
Alice gets up, and runs up the stairs, Vulpix racing after her.
Kara takes a moment to scan the household for her tasks, before going up to the dining table and picking up all the dishes left on the table. She was planning to take it to the dishwasher, but upon discovering that it was broken, she orders the new components for it, LED blinking yellow, before proceeding to wash the dishes by hand.
She pauses, looking behind her to see Alice standing there, staring at her while her Vulpix chews on her shoelaces and a Sewaddle sits on the top of her head. Alice then walks off, Vulpix following behind her, and Kara returns to the dishes, smiling just a bit.
“Kara! Bring me a cold beer!” Todd demands from the couch, just as Kara was drying her hands.
“Yes Todd.” She says, going over to the fridge and picking up a bottle of beer, noting the small amount of food she could work with for dinner. She takes it over to Todd and sets it on the coffee table. She stares at the TV for a bit, watching the human on screen play Hockey, before Todd yells at her, and she moves to turning on the Vacuum, the small robot moving off to clean off the dust on the floor.
She picks up the trash can then, collecting all the rubbish that’s piled up over the two weeks she was gone, before taking the filled bags outside and places them in the collection bin, before proceeding back inside.
She walks in front of the TV, prompting Todd to yell “Out of the way for fuck’s sake!”
Kara only replies with a curt “Sorry Todd. It won’t happen again.”
She goes through the kitchen back to the shelf to pick up the books left on the floor and place them back on the shelf. She spies Alice playing around with the vacuum, jumping front of it while Vulpix follows her movements. The Sewaddle sits on her head still, sewing a new hood for the upcoming winter.
“Alice!” Todd yells, holding a pipe in his hand. “You better stop that right now!”
Alice stops, and presses a Poké Ball to Vulpix���s head, before running off. Kara stares for a moment, before heading into the backyard.
She remembers the Poké Balls at her hip, so she lets both Pokémon out of their balls, letting them stand in the grass.
The first one is a purple cat like one, with a red gem and a tail that parted off into two segments. The PokéDex that is built into her recognises the Pokémon as Espeon, who quickly rubs herself around Kara’s legs and purrs, happy that his trainer had returned.
The second Pokémon is a large deer, the antlers sporting drooping brown leaves and it’s coat a rich dark brown. “Sawsbuck” her PokéDex supplies, and she pats the Pokémon on the head, who nuzzles her hand, also happy that his trainer had returned.
She both returns them to their Poké Balls, before collecting the Laundry, when she spots Alice, sitting on a tire, Sewaddle sitting in it’s arms. Kara kneels in front of her, setting the basket down next to her, and places her hands on her knee. She looks around, before asking “You like playing out here?”
Alice doesn’t say anything, and feeds Sewaddle another leaf.
Kara tries again, saying “You look bored. Would you like to play a game?”
Alice stares before walking back inside, clutching Sewaddle to her chest. Kara stares for a moment before picking up the washing and carrying it inside.
She places them in the washing machine and reaches up for the box of washing detergent that’s sitting on the shelf, before noticing a plastic packet sitting inside. She pulls it out, and scans the contents, the results filling her vision.
RED ICE
Acetone, Lithium, Thirium, Toluene, Hydrochloric Acid
Kara stares at it, ready to place it back before turning around and Todd’s hand slamming against her throat.
She knows that her LED must be flickering red, and she can only stare up at Todd, whose Pupils are enlarged and he’s sweating rather profusely.
“You shouldn’t mess around with my stuff.” He growls. Kara can hear the accelerated rate of breathing, and she matches the symptoms to Red Ice usage. “It makes me nervous.”
“I’m sorry Todd.” Kara whispers, hands clutching the detergent box.
“You stay the fuck out of my business, unless you want to piss me off…” he trails off, showing her the packet of Red Ice. “You wanna piss me off?” He asks, adding slightly more pressure to her throat.
“No Todd.” Kara says, voice quiet and small. Todd nods, before letting her throat go and walking back to his Hockey Game. Kara blinks, before putting some of the detergent into the washing machine, and turning it on, placing the box back onto the shelf.
She goes and tells Todd that she’s finished all of her tasks, who only replies with a “Do what you have to do but stop botherin’ me”
Kara nods, and heads upstairs, making quick work of Todd’s bedroom, seeing the anti-depressant pills on the bed side table and noting the location of the hand gun in the draw.
She goes and cleans the bathroom next, before going into Alice’s room.
Alice sees her, and she scrambles into the fort in the corner, sitting next to Sewaddle who is chewing on another leaf and Vulpix, who climbs into Alice’s lap and stretches her legs out.
“I just want to tidy up your room your little bit, okay?” Kara asks, taking a step into the room. “It’ll only take two minutes, alright?”
Alice doesn’t respond, and clutches onto the Vulpix like her life depends on it.
Kara only smiles and looks at the book that was discarded on the floor. She looks at the cover, which has “Alice in Wonderland” written on the front, and Kara only goes “Of course.”
Alice relaxes a bit at that, while Kara makes Alice’s bed and opens the window, noting the ledge that outside the window sill.
That’s when Kara decides to kneel in front of Alice again, and smiles. “I’m sure we used to be friends before I was reset. Maybe we can be friends again.”
Alice doesn’t respond, but she does look at her.
“Your father said you chose my name.” Kara states, smiling softly. “Kara, it’s nice. How did you choose it?”
Alice stares at her, eyes flicking from Kara’s face and the Poké Balls that hang from her belt.
“You should tell me about yourself.” Kara asks, trying to be reassuring. “What you like to do, where you like to go, your favourite foods…That would really help me.”
Kara waits, and then says “Okay. I can see you want some space. I’ll leave you alone.”
Alice suddenly runs out of her fort, and stops in front of Kara, Vulpix racing behind her and Sewaddle clutching to her head. Alice goes back to press a key into Kara’s palm, and runs off.
Kara looks towards the locked box on the shelf, and unlocks it, opening the lid to reveal the items inside.
The first one is a dried four-leaf clover. The second is a photo of Alice (Who looks strangely…different?), Todd and what is supposedly her mother.
The third is a series of illustrated images.
The first picture is obviously Alice, but she had blood dripping from her temple. The next is of Alice and Todd, with Todd looking angry and Alice looking scared. The one after is of Kara and Todd arguing about something, while Alice looks on, scared.
The last is of Kara, on the ground, her arm and head ripped off while Alice cries.
She processes the information, before placing everything back into the box, and locking it, before proceeding downstairs.
She stands at the stairs, watching as Todd approaches Alice with a “What are you doing?”
Alice stutters out a “I’m playing…”, Vulpix scampering off her lap and Sewaddle jumping onto the table.
“You’re playing…” Todd growls out, walking around the dinner table. “I know what you’re thinking. You think your dad’s a lowlife, huh? Fucking loser? Can’t get a job, take care of his family? Don’t you think I try to make things work?” Todd says, voice raising in volume. He suddenly throws a chair, yelling “But whenever I do, when someone comes along they just FUCK IT ALL UP!” he suddenly screams.
Alice doesn’t scream. She just sits there, paralysed in fear.
“I know what you think of me.” Todd suddenly whispers, voice threatening and low. “You hate me…you hate me, don’t you?!” He says, picking Alice up by the shoulder and shaking her. “Say it! You hate me!”
Alice only whimpers and tears start rolling down her cheeks. Todd sets her down, seemingly calmed down, and he kneels to the floor, and starts crying himself.
“God.” He says, voice broken. “what am I doing?” Alice only sniffles and doesn’t say anything else. She looks at Kara, in a silent plea for help, and Kara can only tilt her head, unable to do anything.
Todd keeps apologising, chanting “I’m sorry honey, I’m sorry.” And “You know I love you, right?” while he hugs Alice, but Alice only looks at Kara, eyes wide and searching.
Kara, for the first time in her life, feels conflicted.
For the first time, she feels.
#fanfiction#fanfic#detroit: become human#pokemon#Detroit:pokemon au#dbh kara#dbh alice#kara#alice#tw: abuse
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Pillow Fort
Rating: G Category: Mafia Summary: Does Chrome work very hard to project an image of himself as emotionless and uncaring? Sure. Does he also cheerfully invalidate that image at times? Of course.
As Chrome stepped into his apartment, the vampire coven leader still blathering in his ear, he was greeted by an unusual sound.
Silence.
With a child of ten in the house, silence was concerning. Chrome frowned as he toed out of his shoes and stepped further into the hallway, sparing a habitual moment to glance into the wall mirror and grimace at his hair.
“-And,” said the vampire with the same pomp he'd been talking with for this whole conversation, “I would really like your assurance-”
“What, that I won't tell your enemies, or allies, that you're moving the coven?” Chrome laughed the laugh he'd practiced into a voice recorder until it sounded right over the phone. “Aaah, if I gave out the information I receive from my clients, Alexander, I'd have no business left!”
There was a small giggle, a thump, and a louder giggle from the living room. Chrome crept down the hall towards it. What could Dark possibly be doing?
“Alexander,” he said, cutting off the vampire as he started some flowery goodbye speech, as he did every call. “I'm afraid I must cut this short. Call me back if you need anything further.”
Without saying goodbye, he hung up and slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. The weightless rune etched on the inside of that pocket did its work, making it seem like that phone (and the two others also there) didn't even exist.
Then he pushed open the living room door.
He was greeted with the sight of a massive pillow fort. It sprawled from the couch set in front of the television to his own desk in front of the window, multicolored blankets draped and thrown and artfully twisted into a feat of engineering supported by what looked like couch cushions, dining room chairs, and duct tape. Chrome blinked a few times at the spectacle.
Good lord, how long had it taken Ari and Dark to set this up? Clearly Naomi hadn't helped them. Naomi had no taste for anything fun.
“I spy an intruder!” Dark shrilled. She popped up from between two blankets, her hair in her face and eyes alight. She dramatically pointed at Chrome. “Halt! In the name of Her Majesty Dark the Cunning, kneel and identify yourself!”
Chrome had so many better things to do than to play with a kid. The Rozzos were riding his back again, Alexander needed to be tended to, there was a turf war between werewolves and werecats that Chrome wanted to keep tabs on and manipulate to his side. But the pillow fort was between him and his desk.
And, really, it wasn't possible to say no to Dark's face. There was no harm in playing for a little while.
He put his hands up and got to his knees. “I am,” he said, and paused, thinking fast, “Chrome the Dishonorable Knight of Caleiorn. And... I am here to steal your crown!” He sprang up, lunging for the fort. Dark shrieked and giggled.
“Majestic Catlord, after him!” she yelled, gesturing wildly at Chrome.
Majestic Catlord? There was only one person in the apartment that even vaguely fit that description. Ari sat up from where (Chrome assumed) he'd been napping, blinking lazily, twitching his ears. He yawned with a small nya sound.
“Hi, Chrome,” he said once he'd realized who was staring at him. Chrome waved.
“Hello!” he said cheerily. “I think you're supposed to be chasing me.”
“Drag him in chains before his Empress!” Dark screeched. Ari yawned again, then got to his feet.
“Sorry,” he said to Chrome before diving for him over the blanket fort. Chrome dodged away.
“You should catch me before you apologize!” And then, for Dark's benefit, he added, “Honorable scum! I shall use cheap tricks and parlor magic, and abscond with your crown jewels!”
Ari blinked, then grabbed for him. Chrome spun away. He noticed Dark blinking in confusion.
“Abscond?” he asked.
Dark nodded.
“It means to steal, or get away with.”
Dark nodded again, this time in comprehension, and threw herself back into her play. “Catlord! Don't let him abscond with my crown!”
Chrome led Ari on a chase through the living room. He was pretty sure the neko wasn't trying to grab him, just as he wasn't trying to actually lose Ari or get out of the living room – if he had been, he could have just activated his invisibility rune or walked out the door. But Dark was giggling the entire time. There were worse things than playing the villain to make a child happy.
After a few minutes of this, Chrome pretended to trip and let Ari catch him. Ari looked concerned. Chrome winked.
“No!” he wailed dramatically, pretending to tug against Ari's very lax grip. “I have been vanquished! If you set me free, Majestic Catlord, I shall-”
“Nope,” said Ari, and grinned a sharp grin, and tugged Chrome over to the blanket fort. Dark popped down and crawled through the fort to emerge in front of Chrome. She'd made a scepter, Chrome noticed, out of an empty paper towel roll. She rapped Chrome on the head with this.
“Majestic Catlord! You are now the Most Honorable and Majestic Catlord!”
“Nya?” said Ari. Dark continued undeterred.
“And you, scoundrel! Dishonorable Knight of- uh...”
“Caleiorn,” Chrome supplied helpfully. It was the name of the one of the witch covens' mythical promised land. He'd been dealing with quite a few witch covens lately.
“Yes! Dishonorable Knight of Caleiorn! You shall now be... Executed!”
Chrome gasped in exaggerated horror, threw his hand up to shield his forehead, and pretended to faint. “No! Not execution! I shall betray my country for my life!”
“If you betray your country, you'll betray mine as well!”
Oooh. Shrewd. Chrome felt a pang of pride, he'd taught this girl well.
He drew breath for another argument for his 'life,' but the front door opened before he could say anything. Naomi's familiar heeled step sounded in the hall.
Chrome grinned.
“What about a life for a life?” he suggested. “If I turn in another enemy of your glorious kingdom, you must spare me and make me a baron!”
Dark glanced around at the hall. It took her a moment to realize what Chrome was getting at, then a slow, sweet grin spread across her face.
“Spare you,” she agreed. “We will see about a barony. Go!”
Chrome scrambled up and activated the invisibility rune on his coat, melting into nothing on the other side of the living room door. Naomi walked in and stopped short, staring at the blanket fort and at Dark's tiny regal form ruling it all.
“Oh, no,” she sighed.
“Oh, yes,” Chrome said, and uncloaked himself, and pounced on her as Dark shrieked with laughter.
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OMG stamora with number 90 please!! “Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me.”
90. “Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillowfort, not me.”
oh my god this is so late i’m so bad i’m so sorry i don’t even remember what list this is from lmfao
anyway, inbox is closed so i can actually make a dent in all the prompts waiting in here lsdnvlsbroerbnl
also hooray it’s time to introduce starmora kiddo #3 since i got another prompt asking for baby #3,,, introducing katherine “kat” quill named after, you guessed it, cat stevens. goodbye
((also yes i am convinced that peter quill’s sperm is only capable of producing daughters))
It’s been a long time since the Quadrant’s been completelyquiet.
…On second thought, it’s never been completely quiet, but there’s a noticeable difference between thevolume years ago and the volume now, three children later.
But if Gamora’s learned one thing as a parent, it’s thatsilence is hardly a good thing. Mer’s more on the reserved side, so she can be fairlyquiet, and while Ari can be a little rowdy, she’s been busying herself latelyby watching Rocket tinker (no bombsallowed is the rule for that) in awe. Then there’s Kat, their youngest, who’sproven herself to be the chattiest of the three, even though she can’t quitetalk yet.
And if the girls are all hanging out with Peter, then there really shouldn’t be silence.
So Gamora walks to the communal area she’d last seen themall in, only to find the chairs from the dining table arranged in a circle-likeformation beside the couch with blankets draped over them, no girls or Peter insight.
Until she hears a giggle from behind the blanket wall.
She approaches the strange setup, kneeling on the floor andlifting the blanket up.
Two mischievously grinning girls, a giggly baby, and guiltyPeter greet her.
“Hey,” Peter says, holding Kat in his lap. Ari pokes hercheek, making Kat giggle, which, in turn, makes both Ari and Mer giggle. “Ourkids are totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me.”
A pillow fort. That’sa new one. Must be some Terran game. Gamora raises an eyebrow. “And you’regoing to put everything back afterward?”
“Uh,” Peter looks to the trio between them, who are convenientlynot paying attention to their conversation about cleaning up, “yes?”
Gamora smiles then. “May I come in?”
“There’s a password,” Ari insists, holding her hand up tostop Gamora. “What’s the password?”
“Mommy doesn’t need to give the password,” Mer says,scrunching up her face.
“Everyone has togive the password,” Ari says. “That’s the rules.”
“That’s a dumb—“
“Hey, hey,” Peter cuts in before a real argument breaks out,because Mer and Ari, even at their young ages, have somehow mastered the art offighting over anything. Gamoraunderstands, of course; she and Nebula hadwanted to kill each other for a few years. “Here’s a compromise: you can giveyour mom a hint for the password.”
That seems to placate them, though Ari’s still frowning. Katwaves her arms around with another giggle and Peter readjusts her placement onhis lap.
“Okay,” Mer says happily. “The hint is that it’s Daddy’sfavorite food from Terra!”
“’Food’ is a bit of a stretch,” Peter comments.
“No more hints!” Ari says to him. “Mama gets one guess.”
They’d visited Terra a few times since defeating Thanos, soPeter could reconnect with his home world more, and there was, in fact, onefood—or, really, dessert—he enjoyedmore than anything else there.
“I have my answer,” Gamora says.
“What is it?” Ari asks.
“Ice cream.”
“Awwww, you know me so well,” Peter says.
“Okay, you can enter,” Ari says, nodding.
Gamora ducks her head and crawls into the small space. It’sa little stuffy, but the girls don’t seem to mind. Kat reaches her hands out toher.
“Go to your mama, Kitty-Kat.” Peter passes her over toGamora, who sets Kat down on her lap.
“What happens next in your ‘pillow fort’ game?” Gamora asks,wrapping her arm around Kat to steady her.
“We’re having a team meeting,” Mer says.
“Oh?”
“Like you and Daddy do, ‘cept it’s our team.”
“We’re gonna fight the Soviets!”Ari declares.
“The Sovereign,” Petercorrects. “How do you even know about the Soviet…you know what? Never mind. I’mjust not going to ask.”
“We have to strat—strateg—make a plan!” Mer says.
“That’s a good start,” Gamora says, giving Kat her left handto play with. Kat fiddles with her wedding band. “Does our team have a name?”
“The Avengers!” Ari yells.
“That’s already taken, Ari-baby,” Peter says, poking Ari’sarm.
“We’re the Avengers!” Mer insists.
“Aven!” Kat tries to echo, pulling Gamora’s fingers up toher mouth.
Gamora pulls her hand out of the way just in time. “There’salready a team with that name.”
“But I like their name,” Mer says.
“They’re cool,” Ari says, nodding solemnly.
“You’ve met them, like, once,tops,” Peter says.
“No!” Ari says. “We met them more.”
“And now we’re theAvengers,” Mer says.
Since Kat entered their lives, everything’s pretty muchthree to two now, so Gamora just gives up. Peter shrugs, probably thinking thesame.
“Okay, so we’re…the Avengers,”he says, as if it hurts him to speak their name. “And this is our battle strategymeeting.”
“Groot is gonna be the Sovereign,” Mer whispers loudly toGamora.
“Yes, good, Mer, always know the enemy,” Peter says,gesturing to her. She nods proudly. “We need a plan on how we’ll attack.”
“Charge him!” Ari says.
“That’s a bad plan,” Mer says.
“I think,” Gamora says, “one person should distract him fromthe front while the rest of us attack from behind.”
“Who should be the distraction?” Mer asks.
Kat coos then, and all eyes fall to her.
“That’s Kat’s job now,” Ari says.
“Poor Groot—I mean, the Sovereign—won’tknow what hit him,” Peter says, grinning at Gamora over Ari’s head.
“He’s a good brother,” Gamora says, returning the smile.
As Mer and Ari continue discussing (or, really, bickering over) battle strategies, withPeter chiming in occasionally, Gamora hugs the squirming Kat a little moretightly to herself, pressing a kiss to Kat’s hair. Kat’s their final child (asshe and Peter had decided), so Gamora’s been trying to soak up as much time aspossible with her while she’s still so little. Watching Mer and Ari discuss,she’s taken by how big they’ve both gotten, though they’re still youngchildren.
But, she reminds herself, that’s not of concern at thepresent moment. They still have to defeat “the Sovereign,” of course. That’sthe more pressing matter, clearly.
“Don’t forget,” Gamora speaks up, “after the battle’s won,we need to clean up this fort.”
“But Daddy said we could sleep here,” Mer says.
“Daddy definitely did not say that,” Peter says, grimacing.
“Yeah, you did!” Ari says, frowning at him.
“Uh…”
“Then Daddy can sleep here with you,” Gamora says.
“But Daddy snores,”Mer protests.
“No boys allowed,” Ari says.
“Mommy can stay.”
“Yeah, Mama can stay.”
“Totally uncool,” Peter grumbles, wrapping his arms aroundboth girls and pulling them back to him with a huff. They squeal, trying towiggle out of his grasp. “And here I thought I’d be the coolest parent ever forshowing you how to build a fort.”
“Mommy is cooler,” Mer says with a giggle.
“Yeah!” Ari says.
Gamora just smirks. Peter groans.
“Daughters, man. Ruthless.”
#starmora#gamora#peter quill#star lord#guardians of the galaxy#mcu#mer and ari and kat quill#fanfiction#tumblr exclusive#hooooly fuck this is late as hell#Anonymous
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15. Give us a snippet of something from your WiPs! @snowbryneich
I presume you wanted a norribeth WIP? :) Maybe this is a bit more than a snippet...but none of it made sense in shorter form... :) First chapter of courtship fic.
I.
Elizabeth felt some trepidation as she approached the Commodore’s office within Fort Charles. He would be frightfully busy, she knew, and probably not eager to accept visitors. Jack Sparrow and Will Turner had escaped Port Royal upon the Black Pearl yesterday, and James intended to take the Dauntless in pursuit in a matter of hours. It was inexplicable what had caused him to give them a day’s head start, except for the look on Elizabeth Swann’s face when Lieutenant Gilette had demanded “Orders, Sir?”
She was certain the military men stationed at Port Royal had a great deal to say about the state of Norrington’s command due to her influence. Thirty-seven marines and thirteen sailors dead at the Isle de Muerte. One sixth rate ship of the line at the bottom of the sea. And now pirates were being allowed to waltz away from the noose with a day’s head start…
It is possible that none of this would have bothered Elizabeth, seen as merely means to an end to ensure Will’s safety, had James’ haunted expression after she had accepted his proposal not played in her mind again and again as she’d tried to sleep the night previous. That look had been the first time James Norrington ever laid his emotions bare before her, and in that moment he’d looked as though she’d sentenced him to hang. James Norrington was no fool. He’d known it was all a means to an end, and she had watched his hopes for them die in his bottle-green eyes on the very deck of his ship.
Yet he’d gone anyway, helpless to her wishes and his desire to please her. A slave to the possibility that perhaps one day he really would call her his.
Beneath all that blue wool and gold braid and powdered white wig, there was a flesh and blood man. A man with desires and hopes. A man who loved her. A man she’d never imagined before. He hid it all so well, and yet she found herself restless with the thought that perhaps she could unravel him a little, to glimpse what lay inside.
The day before out the corner of her eye she had taken the opportunity to truly look at James Norrington, in a way she never had before. He was a dashing yet somewhat stuffy figure who had always been present in some capacity during her life in Port Royal. He had dined at their house countless times. He had always been kind to her, so very kind, and indulgent too, lending her maps and books filled with sea monsters and mariner’s tales. After much pestering he’d even taught her the rudiments of navigation. She had been closely acquainted with him half her life, and yet somehow she realized she did not really know him.
Even more surprising, she wanted to. Will was gone, and this was the man to whom her future was now intimately tied. She felt that familiar pique of curiosity, the urge to explore a subject knowing she would not rest until the mystery had been solved. She knew that some women of her station treated marriage as a trial to be endured, stoically and with saintly tolerance for something unpleasant, and yet she did not want that with James.
The marriage proposal had come as no surprise, really, but the fact that he loved her? Did he even really know her? Elizabeth found herself impossibly intrigued, and she could not rest until she had the answer she sought.
The Fort was in a tizzy, officers and soldiers rushing about in preparation to pursue the pirates. The Dauntless was a large ship, and truly it was quite an undertaking to provision her in so short a time. Elizabeth narrowly sidestepped Lieutenant Gillette as he tore from the Commodore’s office, and soundlessly she slipped in the door behind him. James was engrossed in some last minute paperwork upon his desk, a furrow in his brow as he regarded the troublesome papers before him.
“James?”
His head shot up, and she saw true surprise before it was masked by polite indifference. “Miss Swann. How…nice of you to stop by. I fear I am quite occupied at the moment and have little time for pleasantries.”
Though his words were immaculately polite, Elizabeth could not help but feel the chill in them. He was annoyed with her, to say the least, and she supposed she could not blame him. She had the damndest timing for executing a faint, that was sure. The fact that he’d called her Miss Swann stung more than she’d thought it would.
“I…just wanted to say farewell and good luck before you left.”
James folded his long fingers upon his desk, his face unreadable. Finally, quietly he imparted, “I think we both know you do not wish me success in this endeavor.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips thoughtfully. This was not how she’d envisioned this interaction at all, and yet she found she liked it that James seemed to wish to speak on real terms with her, rather than exchange polite inanities. It is deuced hard to conduct a debate when a gentleman refuses to contradict a lady to her face. “I suppose it is hard to reconcile the demands of the law with the reality of punishing good men,” she admitted. “Men who saved my life, no less. Perhaps you can help me understand that?”
Though he did not offer, an extreme breach in manners for the usually stiflingly proper Commodore, Elizabeth took a seat in one of the velvet upholstered chairs before his desk.
James released a heavy sigh, his eyes cast down. “The fact that your life was spared due to their efforts is no little matter to me, Elizabeth. I am immensely grateful. And yet it is not in my power to grant a pardon for their other crimes, including but not limited to the theft and destruction of one of His Majesty’s finest ships of the line, and the slaughter of fifty of my men.”
“Jack did not kill your men,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “That was Barbossa and his ilk!”
James frowned for the familiarity Elizabeth paid the pirate. “That may be, but he certainly did not warn me of the curse, and just who do you think alerted them to the Dauntless waiting outside?”
Elizabeth knew that she too had failed to warn James of the curse, a fact of which he rather tactfully omitted. But the thought that Jack would purposefully set up that many men to die? She pressed a hand to her cheek, appalled by the thought, unwilling to believe it. “But Will was in that cavern too! Surely he would not have let Jack…”
And yet when had Will managed to outwit Jack in the entirety of their acquaintance? Not once, she feared. James watched at the gravity of these realizations settled upon Elizabeth, and he felt some pity for her, even if it was his rival whose innocence she mourned. “Oh God,” she finally said, pressing a hand over her chest. She felt impossibly short of breath, the most awful feeling of uneasiness curdling in her belly. “Jack planned it all along. He told you to lock me in your cabin because of a slight risk...” A cynical sound escaped her, which she attempted to quell with a delicate hand upon her mouth.
“Indeed. No doubt intending to take the Dauntless—and dare I say you—as his prizes after the slaughter was done.”
Elizabeth shook her head, but she saw it all too clearly now. “What a fool I have been,” she said quietly, almost to herself, though it did not escape James’ hearing.
The Commodore sighed. Despite everything, he hated to see Elizabeth in pain. It caused the most unsettling ache, just above his heart. “You are not a fool, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “Just young. So very young.”
Young or not, she felt quite ashamed. She thought of all the bodies—the men—that had been committed to sea on the voyage home. It had been a somber voyage, at best, despite their victories. She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I am sorry, James. I fear I misjudged…everything. All those men!” She looked away, suddenly quite unable to meet his eyes.
Though James was glad she finally understood the true gravity of the events passed, he did not wish for the burden of the guilt for those fallen men to weigh upon her narrow shoulders. It was heavy enough for a seasoned officer to endure, much less a young lady.
“Please, you must not trouble yourself,” he insisted. “The truth is that if we had not engaged Barbossa at the Isle de Muerte it is possible he and his crew of miscreants would have slipped away, free to continue terrorizing the Caribbean. The deaths of my men were regrettable, but not in vain.”
“Perhaps not, though the number of them may have been greatly reduced.” Elizabeth shook her head, and James found that even in sorrow, she stole his breath away. This girl had manipulated him with Machiavellian mastery, and yet still he loved her, and hated to see her in pain. He had always known Elizabeth was a spirited girl, highly intelligent, perhaps a little spoilt and used to getting her way. But after this ordeal he’d been given a taste of what she was truly capable of when something stood in her path. It was a little frightening, really, to be engaged to wed such a creature. And yet James had never been a man to shrink from a challenge.
Though he was highly aware of the clock ticking away, knowing every second lost was distance Sparrow managed to put between the Pearl and the Dauntless, James rose from his desk to kneel before Elizabeth. He dared take her hand, something he’d never done before outside of a dance at a society ball. It was small and delicate, dwarfed in his own. “They did their duty and died with honor, Elizabeth. Please, I beg you to think of it no more.”
Pretty words, Elizabeth knew, but in truth they had died frightened and in pain. And now James would leave Port Royal in pursuit of more pirates. A pirate who as it turned out was not such a loveable clown after all, but was capable of terrible things in the name of securing his own freedom. For the first time ever, Elizabeth feared Jack Sparrow, and what might happen if James engaged him once more.
“I will think on it,” she insisted willfully, squeezing James’ hand in her own. It was large, with long elegant fingers, and possessed a surprising strength. She felt better with her hand in his, and found she didn’t want to let him go. “And I will think of you. Please come home to me safe and sound, James? And soon. Make it soon.”
This was the first time she had spoken in such a way to James, in reference to their lives entwined, together. In fact up until this point he had thought she rather preferred not to think of their impending nuptials, or what exactly that meant. Suddenly he felt as a star struck boy before her, his lips parted in surprise.
She studied him, and felt again as though she was seeing him for the first time ever. His eyes were a startling shade of green, bright as spring leaves. His features were regular and handsome, a firm jaw and a mouth that was all too often held in a straight line. If he would but smile, not his usual smirk or less oft displayed little quirk of lips but a true joyful smile, she felt certain he would be transformed. She realized she had never seen such a phenomenon on the face of the stoic Commodore Norrington, and found herself determined to bring the elusive beast about.
Just minutes ago James had been eager to get the Dauntless underway, and annoyed for the interruption. Now, all he wanted was to stay with Elizabeth indefinitely. How fitting, he thought with amusement, that he should be on his knees before her. It would not be the last time, he was certain.
He met her eyes, and felt as though he lost himself in those brown orbs. He did not have her charts, he did not yet really know how to plot a course within her waters. Brown was such a paltry word for the color of her irises. They gleamed like polished mahogany, if wood could simultaneously hold a fire inside it without immolating. Indeed, he felt as though he were the one set afire, with nary but a glance from this girl. She inspired such passion within him, passion which he was afraid to show her just yet. Yet it had a way of escaping at the most inopportune times, such as making him stumble over his words, or causing a tremor in his hands, like now as he lifted her dainty mitt to his lips.
Pressing a gentle kiss to her fingers, he promised, “I shall endeavor to do so, my lady.”
A long moment passed between them, in which it almost seemed as though Elizabeth leaned towards him, drawn like the tide, as though perhaps she meant to kiss him. The thought made him leap to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. “I thank you for visiting, but I really must get back to my duties, Elizabeth.”
She pursed her lips, perplexed by his sudden outburst, almost as though he was nervous. In fact she had thought to kiss him, even if only on the cheek, and having been denied ignited something willful within her. She suddenly very much wanted something more than a kiss upon her fingers. She wanted to speak with him a while longer, to unravel this man she was promised to marry. She wanted to know his favorite color and what he liked to read before bed and did he really love her? Perhaps exploring such things was something to be done gradually amidst the course of a marriage, but Elizabeth was not known for her patience.
And yet she knew he had a duty to uphold, and so she felt she could do nothing but rise from her chair, curtsying prettily. “Very well. Fair winds, James. I pray your absence will be short.”
He bowed his head, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, pleased that she genuinely seemed to wish for his speedy return. “As you command, Elizabeth.”
She laughed lightly at the thought of commanding such a powerful man, having little inkling of how true it was. James watched as she flounced out of his office, her full skirts swaying with her steps. The journey had not yet even begun, and already he was ready to return home.
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