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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

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“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all...

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) :

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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DICK

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger.

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning.

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ?

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words.

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger.

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.”

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times.

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time.

Yes. Time.

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him.

But there were times, you had to say something.

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless.

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him.

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !”

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess.

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking.

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down...

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol...

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...”

“Ah.”

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too.

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind.

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...”

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why.

He probably understood more than anyone else.

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it.

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room.

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times.

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ?

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt.

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes.

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered.

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much !

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred.

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son.

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly.

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly.

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered :

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.”

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred...

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early.

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room...

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed.

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way.

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom...

You had cried too, but you were not asleep.

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock.

It was only midnight ?

“Hello, my love.”

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you.

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day.

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.

There was no need for words.

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace.

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered :

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.”

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times.

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up.

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him.

You went down to the kitchen and...

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s.

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time.

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened.

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ?

Oh. But of course.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact.

“Ice cream ?”

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ?

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not.

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter.

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen.

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well.

The silent was slowly turning less awkward.

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead.

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face.

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing.

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter.

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons.

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then :

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !”

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say :

“I know.”

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery...

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly.

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important.

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?”

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to.

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?”

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is.

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.”

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter.

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?”

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy.

Your son.

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then.

He often thought about it.

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self.

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to : when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you.

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it.

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ?

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever.

JASON

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !”

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration.

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him.

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly.

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents.

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You.

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol.

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it.

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him...

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion.

“You’re not my mom !”

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !”

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well.

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt.

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words...

“Let him be, Bruce.”

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around.

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone.

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought...

“Better to leave before they throw me away !”

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back.

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away.

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved.

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you.

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?”

“No.”

“Really, why did you come then ?”

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.”

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !”

“TAKE IT BACK !”

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city.

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back.

“Wow there tiger, relax.”

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life.

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart.

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce.

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you !

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.”

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars...

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash.

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through.

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea.

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men.

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.”

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?!

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...”

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches.

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go.

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums.

************

“Have you seen Jason ?”

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him.

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.”

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...”

“He would never.”

“Bruce...”

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.”

“Bruce...”

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his.

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.”

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom.

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked :

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !”

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea.

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!”

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet.

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation.

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn��everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing !

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him.

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist.

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?!

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?!

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches.

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?!

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too.

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son.

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ?

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore !

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...”

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat.

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say :

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.”

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms.

“Oh sweety, never. Never.”

You say, not letting go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce.

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...”

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe.

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life.

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back.

Tightly against your heart.

“Mom...”

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back.

So much.

And they’d never let him go. Never.

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”.

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough.

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like.

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...”

You never give up.

Love.

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain.

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie.

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up.

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him.

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on.

He could never.

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma.

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same...

Jason never gave up.

But you didn’t either.

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t.

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did.

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly.

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice...

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself.

“But you’re not my mom.”

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school.

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time.

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else.

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while.

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet.

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality.

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings.

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment.

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad.

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt.

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far...

You left the room and he didn’t even notice.

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt.

It hurt so much.

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned.

“What happened ?”

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?”

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you.

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch.

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working.

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile.

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated.

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice :

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!”

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence...

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this.

“No, she just closed her eyes.”

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face.

“Oh...”

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?”

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !”

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest.

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely.

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom.

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful.

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !”

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband.

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him.

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops.

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !”

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together.

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!”

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence).

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim :

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!”

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?”

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet.

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying :

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.”

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !”

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose.

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again.

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”.

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you...

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too.

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him.

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children.

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities.

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ?

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task...

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !”

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more.

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ?

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry).

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids.

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal.

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family.

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted.

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time.

“You, not my mom !”

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it.

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door.

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband.

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok.

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad.

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that.

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words.

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger.

Anger.

The ugly force.

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her.

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you.

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Can we come in ?”

It was her older brothers.

Dick, Jason and Tim.

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications.

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom.

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day.

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength.

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing.

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words.

“You’re not my real mom !”

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever.

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family.

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances.

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”.

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good.

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family.

She often felt like she was a bad daughter.

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough.

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in.

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now.

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you.

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be.

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s.

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life.

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake.

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that.

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room.

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you.

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you.

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes :

“Sorry mom...”

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so.

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her.

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred.

It beats for your family.

For her family.

Family.

She has a family.

And you are her mom.

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never...

Cass never felt safe and warm.

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce.

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be.

DAMIAN

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first.

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning.

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead.

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??”

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted.

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust.

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way...

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles.

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it.

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !”

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ?

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did.

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it.

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it.

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it...

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up.

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?”

“She doesn’t seem ok.”

“Do you know why ?”

“Did you do something to upset her ?”

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes, he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit.

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No.

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning.

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him.

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it.

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes.

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to...

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care...

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t.

But it wasn’t obvious.

Bruce sighed, and then smiled :

“Since when is she acting odd ?”

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom...

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh...

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?”

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way).

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again.

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings.

Just like his father.

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face.

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said :

“What about last night ?”

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !”

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom.

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!”

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered :

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.”

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright.

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason.

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic.

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled :

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!”

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added :

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!”

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said :

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.”

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling :

“I LOVE YOU !!”

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said :

“Why are you yelling, little one ?”

Damian took a step back from you and said :

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words.

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too.

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary.

“I love you too, my little one...”

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom !

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on.

DUKE

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?”

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap.

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed.

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about.

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again.

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !”

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today.

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it.

The guilt.

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered.

But Duke.

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you.

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him.

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM !

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ?

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ?

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ?

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ?

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ?

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ?

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ?

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you...

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day.

He couldn’t have two moms.

...

Right ?

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ?

It would be easier.

Yes.

But it was too late.

It was too late...

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said :

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother.

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure...

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not.

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides.

It enhanced everything.

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold.

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care.

Ah. But you existed.

You.

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling.

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction.

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others.

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others.

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to.

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone.

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others.

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you.

When he fell, you were there to catch him.

Better to fall together, than to stand alone.

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^.

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hallelujahmeatgod · 3 years ago

Text

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU PRANK THEM TELLING THEM YOU DON’T WANT TO SHARE A STRAW

+warning/s: There’s really none, just cursing is all.

+word count: 2227

+note: The characters are very random because they’re the first ones I had an idea for. I want to write for the other ones too, so please do tell me what you guys think about this one.

KUROO

"What did you just say?" He asked, eyes wide from shock.

"I said, grab another straw if you want to take a sip of my drink. I don't want to share a straw." I said, as calmly as I can, immediately looking away from him. Because Lord knows I just want to laugh at his dumbfounded face right now.

He gave me a sarcastic laugh. A laugh that says "are you serious right now?"

I raised a brow at him acting like I don't have a clue as to why he's acting the way he is.

And that was the last straw for him.

"So you literally shove your tongue down my throat and you wouldn't share a straw with me? What's that about?" He said angrily, looking at me with daggers in his eyes.

I laughed and instantly covered his mouth, looking around at the café. "Bitch, shut your mouth. I was just playing with you." I whisper-yelled, while trying to control my laughter.

He rolled his eyes and snatched away my drink. Muttering a "not funny" under his breath, as I continue laughing at him.

KIYOOMI

"Can I try yours?" Omi asked calmly.

I nodded, but before he could grab my drink I pulled it back a bit. "Oh-- can you not use my straw though?" I said as innocently as I can.

He rolled his eyes at me then scoffed. I thought he's actually gonna get riled up, but that's until he said "Brave of you to assume that I'll share a straw with you."

I gave him a dumb look. What?

He raised his brows at me, a sly smirk making its way to his lips. "I'm literally afraid of all kinds of germs, and you are no exception."

Did I really just forget that I'm in a relationship with a germaphobe?

"Whatever" I said, pouting.

I handed him a new straw but then he gave me a look of disgust.

Can I be any more disgusting to this guy?

"Now you're trying to give me a plastic straw? You turtle murderer! Get that animosity away from me." He said, as he dramatically whipped a metal one from his bag.

Just how many does he have in his bag?

"Now, repent from your sins and start using this babe."

BOKUTO

"WHAT?!" His dramatic ass yelled.

"Sit your ass down, right now!" I ordered like a mom.

I pulled him back beside me on the couch as he looked at me sadly.

"What do you mean we can't share a straw? We kiss all the time though and we share more saliva doing that than just sharing a straw." He pouted.

Which is so cute that I had to stop myself from just pinching his cheeks and hugging him.

"I just don't want to share a straw today, okay? Just get another one. I have some in one of the drawers in the kitchen." I said, scrolling through my phone so that it'll seem like it's not a big deal.

I kept on scrolling, but then I realized after a while that he's still beside me.

When I looked at him, I KID YOU NOT, there's tears welling on his eyes threatening to fall. His lips even quivering as he tried holding back the tears.

I instantly held his face and pulled him close. "Oh my, Bo, what's wrong?"

When asked he became more emotional and the tears finally fell. "You wouldn't share a straw with me." He said, sobbing. So I pulled him into a hug.

"Bo, stop crying. I was literally just joking, no need to cry you big baby." I said, chuckling lightly as I ruffled his hair.

He instantly pulled away, looking at me expectantly. "Huh? You're not for real? I can use your straw? You're not disgusted?" He asked and I nodded, giving him a warm smile.

He jumped at me and gave me a bear hug. "I don't like that joke though" He said, pulling away enough so he could look at me.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I won't do it again."

"YAYYYYYY!" He exclaimed, as snot trickled down from his nose. This kid.

"Let's wipe that snot away first though before you come close to my straw, yeah?"

OIKAWA

(Now this is about to turn into a soap opera. Everyone knows this dude is the queen of all drama queens)

"Tooru, baby, use another straw." I said, not even sparing him a glance. Eyes focused on the anime we’re watching.

No reply. No reaction. No movements for a solid moment.

Eventually, he sighed then stood up. I heard him shuffling around so I thought he's actually gonna grab a straw for himself. Y'know, be compliant for once?

But since we're talking about a professional drama queen here, that obviously isn't happening. Duh.

"28th of August, in the year of the Lord. It's a warm afternoon, an afternoon filled with sunlight. Everything's bright, sunny, and happy. But just as everything is fitting into place, everything turned dark '' He monologues, standing at my balcony.

Oh Lord, save me.

"It is on that one afternoon, that Oikawa Tooru's heart has been shattered into million little pieces. It's shattered so good that no glue, not even E6000 glue, can put it back together." He continued, fake crying. Looking back at me once in a while to see if I'm looking at his drama. Then just exaggerating even more, putting his all into it.

I rolled my eyes at him, completely done with him.

"I thought there was love. I thought we felt the same way, that we're on the same page. But I was greatly mistaken! Nothing's fine. I'm torn. I'm all out of faith and this is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, not lying naked on the floor-- but I'll think about it. Illusions never change into something real--"

"DUMBASS JUST TAKE A FUCKING SIP. JUST SHUT UP"

And that's all that needs to be said. He darted towards me and easily drank half of my drink, cuddling next to me.

"Now is that hard? It isn't right?" He teased, which earned him a solid smack on the head.

ASAHI

"Grab another straw for you to use, Asahi" I called out to him as he stood up to get some more snacks after he announced that he wanted to try my drink.

"What did I do this time?" He asked quietly when he got back, dropping the snacks on the table.

"What do you mean? Did you do anything?" I asked him back.

He crouched down in front of me so we're at eye level. "You just told me to use another straw. So what did I do, woman?"

At this I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, which made him confused yet concerned.

"You're scaring me right now babe."

"Ohhh~ Asahi, you really are too precious."

"Are you being sarcastic right now? Is that you getting more angry at me for whatever reason? Wait! Are you actually angry at me? What did I do--"

"YO! Breathe." I clamped a hand on his mouth. "Who said I was angry?"

"Well you don't wanna share a straw so I'm assuming you hate me right now" He shrugged.

I ruffled his hair and lightly pinched his cheek.

"I was just messing with you, so no need to be a panic mess." I reassured, caressing his face ever so softly.

His face instantly calmed as he leaned onto my hand. "Don't do that. You know I panic easily over the smallest things. I was about to have a heart attack." he pouted.

I kissed his cheek and offered him my drink, and he happily took a sip.

"Wait till Daichi hears this" I chuckled, earning a groan from him as he hid his face from me.

KAGEYAMA

I'm getting so impatient.

Impatient for Kageyama to ask for a sip of my drink so I can mess with him.

Why wouldn't he just ask? He kept on eyeing it yet still wouldn't ask for a sip.

"You know, eyeing my drink like that wouldn't make you taste it. If you want a sip, get another straw." I said as if I don't care, when in reality I'm watching his every move and expression.

His eyes then diverted from the drink to me, raising a brow. What's he raising his brow for?

"Bold of you to assume I'd like any of that." He said lazily.

Me=Jaw dislocated.

I looked at him not knowing what to say. What does he mean?

"Huh?" Was all my dumbass could muster.

"As if I'd drink that '' He said, sticking out his tongue in disgust. He took a sip from his milk and smiled, completely satisfied. "I'm all good with my milk, it makes my bones stronger. You can close your mouth now."

"B-but you kept on eyeing it"

"Yeah I did. Cause I was asking myself how someone can even consider that a drink."

USHIJIMA

"Can I please have a small sip of your drink? That seems like a new flavor I have yet to try. So if you don't mind." Ushijima asked beside me, looking straight into my eyes as he did so.

Does he really have to be this serious and proper asking for a sip?

I'll never understand how his robotic self works, but I still love it though. I actually find it cute, so it took a lot from me to not break character.

"Sure thing. Just get yourself a new straw." I said, pushing my drink towards him.

I can see he's quite surprised by that since he didn't just do it right away. He gave me a look but then again didn't really say anything. He stood up from our booth and went to get a new straw.

I almost facepalmed when he did so, but then again what was I expecting? That he'd go crazy over it? That he'd have a big reaction? This is Ushijima we're talking about. The only time you'll see a big reaction from him is when that kid Hinata goes head to head with him or when he sees Oikawa CAUSE WHY THE HECK DIDN'T YOU ATTEND SHIRATORIZAWA, DUMMY!

Ushijima is very simple and calm, so he doesn't make a fuss about things easily.

When he got back he just silently put his straw in and took a sip. "That's quite good but not as good as the one you always get." He said honestly. Typical Ushijima.

We were silent for a little bit. Usually I'd be talking his ears off by now with all the gossip I've found out. But I'm still a tiny bit down because of his lack of reaction.

"You're weird today" He said out of the blue.

"What?" I asked, choking a bit from my drink.

Lost. That's what I am. He doesn't really blurt out things like that. I mean, yeah, if he finds something weird, mostly if you're asking him about it he'll say it's weird. But he doesn't really just blurt it out the way he just did.

"You never had problems sharing with me. You don't mind me biting into your food, drinking from your bottle, making me eat the ice cream when you only want the cone, yet you made me get a new straw. It's just new, I guess. That's why it's kind of weird."

He said calmly and I can tell that he's genuinely calm. Like he isn't trying to be calm or he's mad deep down. He's simply sharing his thoughts.

"So you did notice." I pouted. He looked at me and nodded for me to continue talking. "I was actually just doing this thing I saw on YouTube, telling your boyfriend you don't wanna share a straw."

"Oh" He nodded in understanding. "No wonder you're weird today. You'd never do that." He actually said in a very humorous tone, with a small smile on his face.

I beamed and sat closer to him, resting my head on his arm. "Sorry for that."

He shook his head and gave me head pats. "It's fine. And of course I'd notice, I prefer it when you share with me, it makes me feel closer to you. And you've always been sweet to me even though I can't do it well, so I instantly caught on to it."

"You're sweet in your own unique way, more than you realize, Ushi" I said, smiling at him. He returned the smile with an even bigger one. My heart is about to burst, it's not everyday I see this guy grin like this. This smile might be a small one to others but for me this is a whole ass beam!

"Can we share properly now?" He asked, very VERY cutely. It almost brought tears to my eyes. And when I say cutely I mean him just looking at me seriously. In conclusion whatever this giant does I find cute, okay? I'm whipped and I'll even write it on my forehead if I have to.

"By all means"

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boydiisaster · 3 years ago

Note

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

#THANK YOU SM FOR CLARIFYING YOUR HEADCANON REQUEST!!#i'm not poly myself so i never know if i should like-#make the feeling of romantic love be mutual between every person in the relationship?#or just have the two characters love the same person and not each other [weep]#i always feel like im disappointing the poly readers out there writing stuff that way #anywho tho i hope you enjoyed this!! it was a blast to write <3 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me satan #solomon obey me #satan obey me #solomon x reader #satan x reader #solomon x gn reader #satan x gn reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #ethan.writes

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: Winging It

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay ‘Lady’ Ray

Warnings: A bit of language and lots of cute baby stuff. Parental insecurities. Mostly just fluff with no plot. Dad!Frankie and Mom!Lady.

Summary: Lady doesn't like mommy and me class very much.

Words: 1,535

A/N: I don't know, I just wanted to have a moment with my favourite lovebirds and their spawn. Frankie x Lady masterlist.

”Uh! Gah!”

Jay laughs a little at the sight of Alma, six months old, doing frustrated push-ups on her play blanket while trying to reach for the red ball which, of course, gets pushed further away from her.

”Damn that fucker, right? Here you go, baby.” Jay rolls to ball back to the baby, who grabs it and proceeds to trying to stuff it into her tiny mouth. That doesn’t work, either, so she drops it, and it rolls away again. Not really having figured out how to crawl just yet, Alma reaches for the ball, almost gets it, but pushes it away even further, then watches in disbelief and disappointment while trying to move after it. Jay expects the baby to start crawling any day now but so far, Alma’s only wagging her lower body from side to side, unable to figure out that she actually needs to move her legs to get anywhere.

”Ah!!” Alma’s exclamation is filled with frustration.

”Come on, honey, you can do it,” Jay tries to encourage her dark-haired daughter. Alma pumps her upper body up and down, stares angrily at the ball, and yells, before slumping down onto her stomach, face in wrinkles.

”You get that from your dad,” Jay sighs. She gives the ball back the Alma, who happily examines it, quiet for a moment. Jay leans against the couch, keeping an eye on the kid but also taking the opportunity to enjoy not having to entertain her, even if only for a minute. God knows that’s all she’s done for months until she picked up her studies and working part-time two months ago.

She wasn’t sure what she thought motherhood would be like: would it come to her naturally or would she struggle with it, loath to be so chained to her gender and the role that came with it? She’s never been good at being a woman and what that entails, never wanted the epithet that so often seemed to follow her around in the army.

She’s lucky to have Frankie. He understands this part of her and lets her be who she is. Being together with him has definitely made her accept her womanhood in a whole new way, and she knows that she would never have had kids with anyone else but him. Frankie adores the baby and is just as hands-on with her as Jay expected. Being a mother is hard, she moves from one extreme to the other: immense pride at how well she is handling being a mother, and constant anxiety about not being a good enough mother. Frankie definitely makes the experience easier and it helps to know that he’s just as worried about his capabilities as a father.

The front door opens and closes and shortly after, Frankie shows up in the living-room. Alma drops the ball at the sight of him and gives a happy little shriek.

”Hey, chiquita!” Frankie crouches by the girl and lifts her up, hoisting her in front of his face, giving her a big kiss. Alma giggles in delight, arms flailing.

”How’s mamacita?” Frankie turns to Jay and gives her a kiss as well. She tastes a little sweat on his upper lip; it’s a warm, sunny day.

”So-so. We went to mommy and me group.”

”How was that? Are they still boring as shit?”

Jay’s had a hard time connecting with the other mothers, or at least some of them: they do not share values or opinions about child rearing, and boy, do those women have opinions.

”The Stepford wives are, well, the same Stepford wives,” Jay shrugs. “I suspect they think I’m a lesbian.”

“Excuse me, what?” Frankie stares at her. “Haven’t you told them about me?”

“Well, not as such. They keep bitchin’ about their husbands – seriously, why do people get married and have kids when it’s so obvious they shouldn’t even be together because all they do is nag? – and how they never help out. I said I’ve never had that problem with my partner, we do everything together.”

“Yeah, I wonder where they got the idea from.” Frankie rolls his eyes.

“I’m not calling you my boyfriend.”

“I’ve told you there’s an easy fix to that, we’ll just get hitched,” he shrugs, bouncing Alma on his thigh.

“And I’ve told you no,” Jay tells him patiently, not having this discussion again. She smiles at Alma, so happy in Frankie’s arms, and then glances up at Frankie again.

“Should I grow out my hair?”

“So you wouldn’t look like a lesbian?” he asks pointedly. “Nope. If you want to do it to try how you’d like longer hair, then yes, why not?”

“Would you like it if I had longer hair?”

“Jay, what’s all this? You never cared what I thought about your hair.” Frankie scoots closer, cradling Alma on one arm and sliding the other around Jay’s shoulders.

“I guess I only today realized that it’s just not about me,” she confesses, leaning a little against Frankie. “Everything I do affects Alma. Every snooty mom who looks down on me because I’m not like her is capable of denying Alma a friend to play with.”

“True,” Frankie agrees, “but do you really want our girl to play with kids whose parents are absolute idiots?”

“It’s not like we can conduct interviews with the parents every time she wants to play with someone in the park,” Jay points out with a weak smile. Frankie grins back.

“She’s six months old, baby. Just relax. We’ll figure it out along the way, okay?”

“So we’re winging it, just like we’re winging everything else with this kid?” Jay jokes lightly, thinking of the stacks of books on parenting and developmental psychology she’s read to prepare herself for this life-long commitment.

“I’m a pilot, I’m used to winging it.”

“Oh my God, you’re so funny!” Jay sighs deeply and makes a gun with her hand, putting it to her own temple and pretending to pull the trigger. Frankie shakes his head and looks down on Alma.

“My comedic genius is wasted here, chiquita. I can’t wait for you to be big enough to appreciate it.”

“You’re going to be the king of dad jokes.”

“Obviously.”

Frankie tickles Alma’s tummy, drawing a laugh from her, then looks back at Jay.

“Don’t grow out your hair,” he tells her softly, “unless you want to, of course. I like your hair. It’s so you.”

Jay smiles and passes her hand over her short-cropped hair. Had it been naturally curly, like Frankie’s, it would coil at her ears and the nape of her neck by now. But it’s straight and she’s overdue for a trim.

“Thanks, baby,” she tells him quietly, happy and grateful for his never-ending support. He nods, then frowns a little, as if a thought just occurred to him.

“Maybe I need to go to the next mommy and me group. Set those women straight.”

”They’d lose their shitif a dad showed up there, especially a hot dad like you,” Jay winks at him. ”Tell them I’m at the gym, they’ll love that. But don’t freak out: those of them who talk the most about how cute their babies are, have the most ugly-ass kids I’ve ever seen.”

She makes a face and then looks down at Alma, who’s making little sounds now, restless on Frankie’s arm.

”I’m so happy we managed to make a baby that’s actually cute.”

”With a mom like you, she has to be cute,” Frankie replies, leaning towards Jay for a kiss. She smiles and meets him halfway, lips separates so she can suck his lower lip, the little patch of facial hair right underneath the lip tickling her skin.

The kiss is interrupted by an angry shout from Alma, who is done with cuddles with dad. Frankie puts her down on her back and she proceeds to immediately turning onto her tummy and once again doing a pushup, clearly aiming for the red ball again. Her tiny brows furrow in frustration as she voices her unhappiness.

”Still struggling?” Frankie asks with a tender smile as he watches his daughter try to figure out crawling.

Jay nods. ”And that goddamn ball isn’t taking any orders.”

”She’s close, though.” Alma's almost getting up on her knees, but does not seem to be aware of it: she’s so focused on reaching her chubby arms forward she’s not realizing that she could use a boost from behind.

”It’s a good thing she’s cute, because she’s not that bright,” Jay scoffs, just as Alma emits a loud shriek and jump-starts in an unexpected engagement of her legs, and bounces forward just a couple of inches. It’s not enough to reach the ball but she seems to understand that she did get closer, because she’s flailing her arms in excitement. Frankie and Jay stare at her, both perplexed.

”Well... she shut me up,” Jay finally admits. Frankie rolls the ball towards Alma, who grabs it and then, quite neatly, spits up on it. She looks surprised, and raises her gaze to her parents.

”Wah-wah!”

Jay hands Frankie the burp cloth and stands up.

“Entertain the spawn, Morales. I'm gonna get dinner started.”

#my fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x lady

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uwuowotf2waslife · 3 years ago

Note

Regarding your Pregnant Spy Post, you never said what he'd be like when the Big Day comes for the kid to be born. How would that go?

OwO did someone say mpreg?

Well....

The big day or why Medic should never be a midwife

Lets be real, babies get in and come out. They cant stay in forever, unless something really freaky goes down...

Spy knows the basics of human sex ed, thats a given fact, but he has no idea nor wants to know how Medic made this work. So yea he will ditch Medic... And does what all good moms should do and avoids thinking about it, big mistake.

He has a high pain tolerance so he mistook contractions for cramps and became a floff for his S/O to cuddle. But S/O isnt dumb and they know that he is in labor, but they also dont want to stress him so they pretend they dont understand what's going on.

Untill his water breaks and all hell broke loose. He panics so much he almost faints, so S/O must dash to the Medbay from Spys Smoking room while carrying a semi unconscious Spy (a great start).

Medic wants to do his Medic things, but deep down he cares about Spy so he gives him some laughing gass and tells him to suck it up.

The next hours are hell for both S/O and Spy, because Medic wants to do his experiment stuff and Spy is in a constant state of panic which under normal circumstances is bad.

Spy has the tendency to slip in french when he gets stressed so good luck backaroo i hope you know french cause i dont.

At some point he is in the final stages, after a brief screaming match in angry german with medic and a scapel being thrown at Heavys right eye ( poor heavy only wanted to help). Medic got pissed, healed Heavy and skiddadled away from the medbay while muttering about ignorant fools who cant see a medical breakthrough when they see it. Heavy stayed because he has some experience ( he lived in the countryside so he knows to help cows birth, so how difficult humans can be) and he hates the possibility of something horrible happening.

His idea is simple, (the birth scene from Pope Joanne) S/O sitting crosslegged begind Spy and holding him and Spy to take finnaly some breaths before fainting again.

For Spy is a religious almost experience. He has never been more uncomfortable in his whole life and he feels as if a cheesegrater is getting shoved down his asshole. He wants to just stop, run and live the rest of his life with his baby inside him all safe and sound and... Its weird. He feels loved and protected, which is a good thing but also really really scared.

He starts screaming in french at some point so both Heavy and S/O know its coming right tf now.

Suprisingly Heavy is a pretty chill midwife and helps Spy calm a tiny bit, which makes Spy cry.

Now under normal circumstances you dont want to see Spy cry. His a very ugly crier, but at this point he is beyond what gentleman decency has taught him.

For a good hour he scream cries that he will be a terrible papa and S/O doesnt deserve him because he is a bastard and horrible horrible stuff.

S/O knows its the stress talking and just helps him move things alone while kissing his sweaty neck or shoulder, in a effort to ground him.

After hours, the ordeal is finnaly over and Spy is again crying and holding his daughter while Heavy has gone to shower off the birth goo and smell off him.

Hes finnaly a Papa-Mama

S/O is still holding him and congratulating him for doing a good job, that hes a wonderful man and they are in love with both him and his bebe.

All goes well untill Medic yeets the doors open and shows off the rest of the gang the new happy family.

Rumors says that noone has seen a jar of bread monster being thrown so fast in the last 5 years.

The rest of the gang were traumatised and Scout will fistfight anyone who brings it up again.

And for the love of christ her name is Amalie you Yankee scum not Amelie.

#not selling fresh watermelons #tf2 fandom #tf2 imagines #mpreg #tf2 headcanons #tf2 spy x reader

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

For Forever ۵Kie Carrera۵

(gif not mine. All credit to chasethesun18!)

Word Count - 1895 Warnings - Homophobia, domestic violence, swearing, Synopsis- When you’re parents find out that you’ve been secretly dating your best friend, Kie, they go off on you. Afterward, she comforts you, reminding you that blood doesn’t mean family. A/N- This is something different than I usually write because I am not overly familiar with the topic and I don’t want to be insensitive. However, I think it is something that needs to be put out there. If you think that I have portrayed something wrong, please let me know. If this idea is triggering or causes you stress, please be cautious! Your safety is my prime concern. As always, stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy!

You flinched as the plate shattered against the hardwood floor. Tears stung your eyes, blurry your vision, but you would not give them the satisfaction of crying.

Arms wrapped around your stomach, you pressed yourself as close to the wall as you could. Your mom threw another plate against the ground.

“This is just like you!” Your mom yelled, throwing her hands above his head. “Doing something you deliberately knew would piss us off!”

“I’m not doing anything wrong!” You protested, knowing full well you should have just kept your mouth shut and not said anything. You were just poking the beast. It was bound to come out eventually, but you had hoped to tell them yourself. Not have Topper snitch on you behind your back. That sucked.

“You and that...that girl!” Your mom nearly shrieking, pulling on the silverware drawer so hard that the entire thing fell from its track. You flinched again, lower lip starting to quiver.

“It’s just Kie, Mom,” you said. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” Your mom spun around, a fire in her crazed eyes. “Last time I checked, friends don’t stick their tongues down each others throats!”

You cringed, turning your face away. There was no lying your way out of this one. You were screwed. Your legs started to tremble beneath you, knees turning to jelly. Insides curdling, you wanted to throw up. Somehow, you had convinced yourself that your parents were never going to find out and, even if they did, they wouldn’t care. You and Kie could be together, be happy together and you parents would stand there by your side just as happy.

Glass exploded across the floor as your mother threw one of her precious wine glasses with all of her strength. A quiet sob came from your mouth, pressing your forehead to the wall and wrapping your hands tighter around your stomach. You weren’t sure what was worse, your screaming and destructive mother or your deadly silent father.

“Say something, Dad,” you pleaded, tears brimming in your eyes. He refused to look at you, hands curled into fists at his side.

“Don’t go looking for sympathy now, girl!” Your mom screeched, tossing a metal pot onto the floor. You staved off blinking for as long as you could, hoping that your tears would dry. But they fell like stars, glistening off your cheeks as moonlight shone in through the skylight above. “I have never been more disappointed in my life.”

“Disappointed?” You scoffed, your grief solidifying into anger. “You’re more angry with me for being in love than with Jay for going to jail for pushing drugs to minors?”

“Don’t mention your brother,” your mother warned, her voice deepening.

“Why not?” You asked, finding an inkling of courage somewhere deep in your gut. “How is the person I’m in love with disappoint you more than him?”

“You’re not in love,” your mom laughed, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot who confuses lust with love.”

“That’s not it, Mom,” you said, pressing your lips together. “I love her, Mom. I’m in love with Kiara.”

Your mom had crossed the room in a few steps, her knuckles swiping across your cheek before you were even aware that she was coming your way. A loose part of her ring dug into your cheek, breaking the skin.

You let out a gasp, your head whipping around to the side. Your mother decided that it wasn’t enough. She grabbed you by the hair and threw you to the ground, right in the middle of the mess of glass she made on the floor. You sucked in a sharp breath and let it out quickly as shards of glass pierced your skin.

Your body shook from the pain. You weren’t sure if it was the physical pain of the glass in your hands and shins or the emotional pain from your mother.

She stood behind you, seething like an angry baboon, hands flexing and relaxing at her sides. You breathed deeply in attempts to keep yourself from crying anymore. You didn’t want to cry in front of them.

You looked up slowly toward your dad, who had yet to say a word. He still wouldn’t look at you.

“Daddy.” Your voice broke. “Daddy, please. It’s me. It’s your little girl. Your daughter.”

Finally, he looked up at you with a piercing gaze. Red rimmed the bottoms of his eyes and you were surprised to see a tear fall from the tip of his nose.

“I don’t have a daughter anymore.”

Without saying anything else, he turned away from you. The sobs came slowly at first, just shuddered breathing. But then tears were running down your face, your shoulders shaking mercilessly. You let your hands fall back into the glass, not caring how much it hurt.

“I want you out of this house,” your mother said, her voice as hard as stone.

You weren’t sure you could stand. You wanted to stay. You wanted your mom to pull you out of the glass, to sit you on the side of the tub like she used to and pull out the little pieces. You wanted your dad to buy you ice cream and tell you that he loved you.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Eventually, your entire body was tired of crying. Your jaw ached, your nose burned, your eyes stung. Swallowing was like eating gravel. A lump settled in your stomach. You were pretty sure you were going to vomit if you cried any longer.

You didn’t know if your mom was still there, staring down at you with her stone cold gaze, but you didn’t care. You pushed yourself up slowly, hissing quietly as some of the glass fell from your legs and arm. Tiny drops of blood fell to the floor. That was all they were going to have of you. Your blood and your tears.

You were no longer their daughter. Fine. They no longer had any control over your life.

You staggered out of the house, unsure of where to go. It was dark, the moon high in the sky. Even with the streetlamps, your tears still blurred your vision. You could barely see.

But your feet knew where to go. They followed your heart. Your heart knew exactly where you needed to be right now, so you were going to follow it.

On a night like this, cloudless and the moon full, there was only one place Kie was bound to be.

Walking to the Chateau took a lot longer than driving. You weren’t sure how long you were stumbling along until the house came into sight. A teary smile broke out onto your face, even if you didn’t see them all right away. You didn’t care if John B and Pope and JJ were there. You didn’t need them, not now anyway. You just needed her.

You needed to see her eyes, to smell her perfume, to feel her hands running through your hair. That was all you needed.

“Y/N!” JJ yelled from one of the hammocks, throwing his hands in the air. “Come to see the show?”

“Is Kie here?” you asked, unaware of how haggard your voice sounded.

“Babe?”

A sob came from your mouth at the sound of her voice, your breathing quivering again as you smiled.

“Oh my god. What happened?” Kie asked, throwing herself out of the hammock, sending Pope onto the ground from the other end. You didn’t say anything until she was standing in front of you. Her eyes scanned your body, widening as she saw all the glass.

“They found out,” you said, trying to keep yourself from falling apart all over again. “They kicked me out.”

“Those motherfu-”

“JJ, shut up,” John B snapped. “Let’s get you inside.”

Kie tucked herself under your arm, John B taking the other side. They helped you toward the house, Pope and JJ following close behind.

“What happened?” Kie asked again, setting you on the side of the tub. “Do you have tweezers, John B?”

“I do,” Pope said, turning away from the bathroom to run toward his backpack.

“Topper has pictures on his phone,” you said, fighting back tears. “He showed my mom and dad.”

Kie put her hand behind your head, pulling you into a hug as she pressed a quick kiss against your cheek.

You felt yourself dissolve in her arms. The sobbing came back, uncontrollable. Your tears soaked through the sleeves of her “Save the Turtles” shirt. Despite the glass in your hands, you stuffed your fists with hair.

You breathed in her scent, letting it wash a wave of calm over you. Your breath shuddered, slowing, until you were once again able to breathe. When Kie pulled away, a small smile on her face, you melted in her eyes. Warmth spread through you just at the sight of her. There was water in her eyes as she brushed a few strays tears from your face with the pad of her thumb.

“Those people don’t mean anything,” she whispered. “Not anymore. We’re you’re family, Y/N. We always have been.”

You spluttered a bit and then smiled.

She picked up the tweezers that Pope must have left on the counter and rested your hand in hers.

“This is going to hurt,” Kie warned. You shook your head.

“No it won’t,” you told her. “Not when I’m with you.”

Kie smiled at you, a wider smile. You wanted nothing more than to hold her in your arms, to fall asleep under the sky. But you imagined that being cuddled by someone with glass all over wasn’t entirely comfortable.

She began to pick the pieces of glass out slowly, tossing them in the trash and then putting a bit of pressure to hopefully stop the bleeding. As she worked, she told you about her day. You laughed along with her, sniffing as minimally as you could. Eventually, John B poked his head in and tapped his knuckles on the door. You and Kie looked up at him.

“You doing okay?” He asked you. You nodded, wiping away a tear. “Good. We’re going to go beat the shit out of Topper so if you need anything, just call.”

You were going to protest, but he ducked out of the doorway before you could.

“Just let them go,” Kie said with a small shake of her head.

“But it’s the middle of the night.”

“They like to feel helpful.”

You smiled.

“You know,” you started slowly. “I haven’t been apart of my family for a long time. My parents knew, even if they didn’t know. You’ve been my family for years, Kie.”

A new wave of tears filled your eyes. She looked up at you, curling one of your glass-free hands up in hers. With a firm squeeze and eyes full of tears, Kie spoke again.

“You will always have me, Y/N,” she said, her voice clear and clean.

“For how long?” You asked, remembering the same promise your dad made to you. She gently grabbed your chin, making sure your eyes were on her.

“For forever.”

She leaned forward on her toes, bringing her lips to yours. She tasted like vanilla, her lip gloss sticking to your mouth. It was a short kiss, but it wasn’t supposed to be long. It was a seal.

A promise.

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fruit-teeth · 3 years ago

Text

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 24)

The bed felt cold as Olivia lay there, staring at the ceiling. She could hear a giant beetle pounding its wings against her glass, and while the sight of such a creature disgusted her, she paid the insect little attention this time. Her tears had dried against her cheeks, but they had left itchy stains on her face that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she wiped them away with her sleeve.

Olivia had been up in her room for the past hour or so. Or perhaps it had been two hours, though she had no idea how long it had been. She didn't want to keep feeling awful; she simply wanted to stay in bed and cuddle her plush cat and rubber duck until she felt better. Yet it had been a substantial amount of time, and she still wasn’t feeling right again. Internally, she screamed at herself, demanding that the sadness be cast away, but it wouldn’t budge. The bitterness sat in her chest like a boulder, similar to what she had felt when she learned her father died.

There was a knock on the door just then. Olivia lifted her head, and she asked after a moment, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Miss Pauling’s voice filtered through, wavering and low. “May I come in?”

Olivia wiped her eye roughly. “…yeah. Okay,”

The door creaked open, and Miss Pauling slipped in. She wasn’t dressed in her normal clothes, rather she had put on a pair of sweatpants and a long t-shirt. Her hair was also quite messy, and she looked tired.

Pauling sat on the edge of Olivia’s bed, saying nothing for a moment. Soon, though, she remarked, “Helen does love you, you know.”

Olivia sniffled, pulling the quilt tighter around herself. “She left me…” she mumbled.

“She wanted to make sure you went to a good home,” Pauling explained gently. “I can’t…I can’t explain everything that she does, but she wanted to give you a good chance. That’s why she didn’t just leave you at an orphanage when your dad died.”

“But…” Olivia’s lip trembled. “What’s wrong with me? Why couldn’t I have her?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you!” Pauling assured, taking a moment to carefully rub at Olivia’s back. “I was there right after you were born…she wanted you to be safe and cared-for, she had me take care of you and keep you warm,”

Olivia let this information process, and she sat up in surprise. “You…” she wiped her nose with her wrist, still teary but intrigued. “You were there when I was a baby?”

Pauling couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. She called me over after you were born, and I got you cleaned up for the social worker.”

Olivia had never heard her father tell her stories about when she was a baby, and her nanny had simply stated she was "cute" and nothing else. She only had a few photos of herself as an infant, and it had felt so strange to think that she had once been such a chubby, toothless thing. Now, though, there was someone who’d been present for her infancy.

“What was I like as a baby?” Olivia asked, shifting closer to talk to Pauling easier.

“Well…” Pauling thought about it. “You were very tiny, and you were actually pretty quiet for a new baby. I had to make sure you were okay,”

“Was I okay?” Olivia wanted to know, as if she were worried for her past, infant self.

Pauling nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind Olivia’s ear. “Yeah, you were fine! From what I know, anyway, you were healthy, just small…I gave you a bath in the sink, you were really calm about it, but you did cry a little when I took you out of your swaddle,”

Olivia wrinkled her nose. “Swaddle?”

“Oh – sorry, the towel you were in. The swaddle. But yeah…” Pauling smiled at her again. “I wish I had pictures but…it was just that one night.”

Olivia thought about what’d she had just heard. She’d been a calm, happy baby who liked baths…she compared that to how she became later, as her father had taught her to become mean and ruthless. Her mind did not harp on that too much, though, and she instead grinned to herself at the thought of getting a bath from someone else. “I don’t take baths, now. Just showers,”

“I know,” Pauling replied. “And that surprises me a lot, I’ve never met a lot of kids like you…” she went quiet for a moment, before saying, “Look…I’m sorry I kept that secret from you. You must have had a lot of questions about your mom when you were little, ones your dad didn’t answer.”

“Yeah…” Olivia confessed. “But it wasn’t weird. I did okay…”

Pauling turned to look Olivia up and down: that same tiny baby she’d washed in the sink, bigger now and sitting next to her. Without giving it much thought, she reached over and picked Olivia up, pulling her into her lap. “Yeah,” Pauling agreed in a soft voice, holding back tears as she rested her chin on Olivia’s head. “Yeah, you’ve done great…”

Olivia was taken aback by the hug, but she accepted it with open arms, burying her cheek against Pauling's chest and letting herself be held. Soft guitar music began to flow in from downstairs at the same time, and Olivia looked up when it reached her ears. “Guitar?”

“Oh,” Pauling realized, noticing it too. “That’s Engie…he must be playing a little something. I wonder if he’s playing for the others?”

Olivia slid off of Pauling’s lap and went to the door, heading into the hallway to find out. Pauling followed her, rubbing her eyes and smoothing her hair back as the two headed down the hall.

Engineer sat on the couch in the living room, slowly picking his guitar strings. Scout lay sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling with raw, red eyes. Pyro hovered near him, gently stroking his hair and muttering sweet things he couldn't understand.

When Olivia and Pauling stepped in, Engineer paused his playing. “Hey, you two. Feelin’ better, Olivia?”

Olivia gave a half-hearted shrug. “I dunno…I feel a little better, I guess, but…” she couldn’t quite articulate the sensation, instead gesturing to her chest. “I feel bad in here still,”

“I feel ya,” Scout spoke up from where he lay, his voice wavering a bit. Olivia glanced down at him, before kneeling and laying down on the floor to join him.

Engineer smiled at the sight, but Olivia and Scout were both so unhappy, he couldn't bring himself to laugh. “Hey, you too…either of you wanna talk about how you’re feeling? That might help…”

Scout rolled over on his side and curled up like a frog, frowning. Olivia copied him without much thought, but when Engineer’s words fully sunk in, she considered the prospect.

“Okay,” Olivia sat back up, wiping her eyes again. “Well…” she drew her knees up and hugged them. “I feel like…Mommy didn’t want me because there was something wrong with me,”

Engineer clicked his tongue. “Nah, nah, darlin’…don’t think like that. People have different reasons for doin’ things, it probably had a lot less to do with you and more to do with whatever she was dealin’ with…”

Miss Pauling took a seat on the sofa, letting out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, you’re right about that, Engie…”

Olivia sighed. “But…but Daddy said she didn’t want me…”

“That’s what he thought you’d understand,” Engineer clarified. “Y’know, Olivia, adults are really complex sometimes, and sometimes we don’t think little kids will understand the things we do. So…we try to make it simpler for you. Maybe that’s why your daddy told you that,”

“Hm…” Olivia thought it over. “But he knew I was smart…he told me every day. We’d do plans for the company at night, and if I did something right he’d say to me, ‘you’re so smart, Olivia!’” She pressed her cheek against her knee. “Mommy wouldn’t say that to me…”

Engineer went quiet, and he set his guitar to the side to lean in a little so Olivia could hear him better. “Look,” he began. “You don’t need her approval, okay? You got plenty of people in this house who care so much about you. When you got that, you can’t lose, all right?”

Olivia took this in, before she confessed quietly, “I wanted a mom like the kids on TV…”

“TV makes you want a lot of stuff,” Scout spoke up from where he lay. “That’s always been my experience…” he sniffed. “Makes you want a good dad, too…”

The floorboards beside the living room creaked, and Olivia noticed right away. “What was that?” she asked, looking around.

Engineer sighed. “Oh, lord…I know who it is,” he set his guitar down, calling, “I hear you, Spy. You can come out,”

Spy uncloaked himself, somewhat shamefully. When he appeared, Scout refused to look at him, choosing instead to pick at part of the carpet. Engineer clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m glad you decided to stick around,” Engineer informed Spy. “But sneakin’ around like this ain’t the way.”

“It’s my job,” Spy defended, a sharper edge to his tone than he’d perhaps intended. He leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. “I’m just…at a loss.”

Miss Pauling glanced up from her spot on the sofa. “At a loss of what?”

“Of what to do next…” Spy’s hands shook a little as he rubbed at his brow, grimacing.

Engineer frowned. “Seriously? Spy—he’s right there.” He gestured to Scout. “How about you stop dodging this and talk to your kid for once?”

When Spy looked up, Scout snorted, “Oh, hell, no. I ain’t talkin’ to that bastard.”

“Now, Scout,” Engineer chided, though his voice was gentle. “I think you deserve some closure and—”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Scout snapped, bitter. “Maybe I wanna be angry! Ever thought of that? I got a right to be mad, don’t tell me I’m wrong for it!”

Engineer paused. “I…I wasn’t gonna say that,” he sighed. “I just feel like, if you two don’t talk this out, it’ll only get worse. You know?”

Scout hugged his arms, looking away again, mumbling. Spy watched him for a few, silent seconds, before he took a long breath.

“Jeremy,” he began, stepping towards the young man. “I…I apologize for…well, everything. When you were born, I ran into a great deal of trouble, and as a young man, I did not know how to deal with it properly…”

Spy sat down on the carpet, sitting just across from where Scout was. Olivia watched in silence, checking Scout’s reaction, but he maintained the same, stoic demeanor.

Nevertheless, Spy continued talking. “This isn’t an excuse, I should add. I just wanted to explain why it happened the way it did, because…I should have done better. I should have worked to find a better solution and deal with what happened like a man. But I was a coward, and…” he paused, trying to get reasonable control over his words. “You are not obligated to forgive me, in fact I don’t expect that from you. However, I…I promise I will not leave you again. Not after everything.”

There was a long silence. Scout finally looked up at Spy, his eyes visibly tearing up again. After a moment, he managed to speak. “Thanks…I didn’t think you were actually gonna say sorry.” He wiped his nose, sniffling. “I had a really hard time without a dad, you know. I guess you’re here now, anyway, but…thanks for sayin’ sorry. Means a lot…”

Spy nodded, looking a little relieved to hear that. “All right…good…” he cleared his throat again, clearly trying not to cry. “Well…I’m pleased we could talk about this…even if…”

Scout cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, man. Whatever.” He had a little smile on his face, though, his hands moving up from the carpet to sit on his lap.

Upon witnessing the interaction, Engineer had a sudden realization. “Wait—hey, this is a good idea,”

“What is?” Miss Pauling questioned, not catching on.

“We can just…talk to each other, about what we’re feeling, and…” he tried to think of how to explain it better. “This past day has been wild, and maybe we’d feel better if we just talked openly about what we were feeling,”

“Like a hippie circle?” Scout scoffed, but then backtracked. “I dunno, I ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad idea, actually…”

Miss Pauling sat up taller, considering it. “Sure, we can try it…we can get the others to join in, if they want to,”

“I can start again,” Spy offered, focusing on Pauling. “Miss Pauling, I…I’m sorry for what happened back there, for telling what you told me not to tell…”

“Oh—” Miss Pauling waved him off a little. “No, no…it’s my fault, anyway…Helen told me not to tell that secret in the first place, and…” she teared up again, looking away. “I let her down…”

Pyro patted Pauling’s hand sympathetically while Spy assured her, “No, Miss Pauling…it was her who ran off. It was her who couldn’t look her own child in the eyes and admit what happened. Do not blame yourself.”

Miss Pauling composed herself, rubbing her eye with her wrist. “I guess…” she muttered, unwilling to criticize Helen despite the fact that something in her eyes indicated that she wanted to.

At that moment, Heavy came walking up from the basement, with Medic close behind him. “What is happen up here?” Heavy wanted to know, coming to stand just beside where Spy was seated.

“We’re just havin’ conversations,” Engineer explained. “Just being honest about what’s on our minds.”

Heavy sat down, nodding. “Yes, this is good.”

Medic spotted Olivia, and he moved to sit near her. “Hello again, young one. Look who came to see you,” he moved aside part of his jacket, revealing that Teddy was pressed there.

Olivia’s face lit up, pleased to see the little baboon again. “Teddy!” she reached out to pet his fur gently.

Medic smiled, and he carefully pried Teddy off him. “Here, why don’t you hold him for a bit?”

Olivia gladly accepted Teddy, holding him just how she’d been directed to and watching as he grabbed onto the collar of her shirt. She giggled, “He likes me!”

“He does, you are a natural with him.” Medic praised, patting her head.

As Heavy watched them, he got an expression of gentle love on his face, taking in just how kind Medic could be with Olivia. A thought then crossed his mind, and he looked to Engineer. “I have something to talk about,”

“Oh?” Engineer nodded. “Okay, well…go ahead, big guy.”

Heavy straightened up, looking back at Medic again. “Doktor,” he prompted, getting the other man’s attention. “May I talk about…us?”

Medic glanced up, and he paused, thinking it over. “…yes,” he decided. “Yes, Misha, go ahead…”

Heavy looked back at the rest of the group, before he began to speak. “For long time, now, Doktor and I have been…in love. And…we did not know if she would talk about it, or tell, but…now I want to talk about it.”

Heavy and Medic's relationship was no secret among the mercenaries, thus his admission came as no surprise. Yet, the others chose to be respectful about this.

“We do not think differently of either of you, mon ami,” Spy affirmed, patting Heavy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we support you guys.” Scout agreed.

Heavy smiled, visibly relieved. “Oh, thank you…I am so happy to be here with all of you.”

Medic approached Heavy, curling up on his lap and giving him a kiss. “Goodness, I love you…” he hummed gently, cuddling against Heavy.

“I love you, too,” Heavy replied, pressing his cheek to Medic’s with a delighted hum.

Miss Pauling laughed softly. “Oh, God, you guys…you’re so sweet, you’re gonna give me a cavity.”

Olivia watched from where she held Teddy, recalling how she’d seen them in the basement before. They really did love each other, that much was clear…

It was after this interaction that the others began to trickle in, one by one, to see what was going on in the living room. Olivia began to feel better as they sat quietly on the couch or on the floor, talking quietly to one another, and she snuggled Teddy closer to her for warmth.

Zhanna had her head laid against Soldier’s shoulder, but she looked up at Olivia after a moment. “How are feeling, little one?”

“Okay…” Olivia shrugged. “I feel okay. I’m still sad because Mommy doesn’t want me…”

Sniper, who’d been rather quiet, slipped down closer to Olivia’s level to sit beside her. “Hey…I know that feeling. It hurts like hell, but you should know you aren’t alone. Okay?”

“I know,” Olivia informed him, pressing her cheek against his arm.

“Are you all right, lad?” Demoman wanted to know, watching Sniper’s expressions.

“Me? I’m fine, I’m fine…” Sniper stroked Olivia’s head a bit. After a moment, he admitted, “This, um…this did stir up some stuff for me, but I’m going to be all right.”

Olivia leaned into his touch, but her eyes landed on Lar-Nah, who was standing just across the room from her. Lar-Nah appeared to be staring at Sniper, but she had a peculiar expression on her face that Olivia couldn't figure out.

It seemed that Spy had noticed Lar-Nah, too, for he suddenly prompted, “What’s on your mind, Lar-Nah?”

Lar-Nah glanced up quickly. “What? What are you on about?”

“She’s plotting something!” Soldier piped up, eying her with suspicion.

“Oh, quiet,” Lar-Nah waved her hand dismissively at him, before looking down. “Everything is fine…”

“Nah, I don’t think everything is fine,” Engineer shook his head, motioning for her to sit with everyone else. “You’ve been real quiet ever since you came here…you wanna talk to us?”

Lar-Nah sat down, her back against the end table, and she said nothing for a moment. Finally, she began to speak. “I killed a man today.”

Scout’s head popped up in alarm. “You did!?”

“Oh—yes, she did,” Sniper gestured to her. “She slammed the whole microwave on his head! I saw it. He was about to shoot me, but she took him out.”

“Huh,” Scout slumped back down again. “We’re gonna get a new one, right?”

Demoman leaned over and gave Lar-Nah a firm pat on the back. “Good work! Did not take you for the type!”

Lar-Nah smiled a little, glancing up at him. “Thank you,” she replied, looking down at her hands and plucking at her nail polish. “That wasn't my first time killing someone.”

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. “Hey,” Miss Pauling pointed out. “So has everyone else in this room…aside from Olivia. And the baboon of course. If you feel bad about that, it’s not a problem here.”

“I don’t regret it.” Lar-Nah affirmed, the tone of her voice shifting. “I poisoned my aunt and uncle when I was a teenager…they deserved it.”

“What did they do?” Medic wanted to know, intrigued.

Lar-Nah fell silent again, before taking a long breath. “If I tell you…you’re going to feel bad for me, and…that isn’t what I want. I’ve never told anyone about this until now.”

“Please talk—is okay,” Heavy assured her.

Lar-Nah finally began, “They raised me because my mother died shortly after I was born. Growing up, they always told me I caused her to die, and that this meant I was a bad omen. That I was bad luck. My aunt was especially cruel to me…” she shuddered and rubbed her hair between her fingers in a self-soothing gesture. “I believed I was bad luck, but one day I had enough and put some chemicals into their food, and I promised myself I would never be a bad omen.”

“Good for you,” Engineer praised. “You didn’t put up with their mistreatment, and you decided to be better than what they told you you’d be.”

“No…” Lar-Nah shook her head. “No, no…you see, I’ve come to realize that…I am a bad omen. They were right…” she looked over at Sniper, and the only look in her eyes was one of crushing regret. “I was the reason the Australium ended up in space, which was what led to where we are today. I was the reason my child ended up dying. I was the reason my mother died…” she put her head in her hands, letting out a shaky sigh. “They were right about me—the only thing I’ve ever done is cause bad luck and misery.”

“Please, you know that isn’t true,” Medic tried his best to reassure her. “Surely, an intelligent person such as yourself would know that the concept of luck doesn’t exist, anyway…”

Sniper, however, appeared distressed at hearing this. “I…God, I had no idea…” he moved a little closer, trying to meet her eyes. “Hey—hey, look at me,” when she did, he explained, “I’m alive, now, all right? I’m okay, I ended up being okay. There’s no reason to tear yourself up over it, yeah? It’s all in the past, and besides: you saved me today. I’d say that makes up for it.”

Lar-Nah curled in on herself, but she looked back up at Sniper. “Truly?” she wanted to know, her voice low again. “You think that makes up for what happened to you?”

“I do…” Sniper rubbed her shoulder tenderly. “And I’m not mad at you, all right?”

Heavy leaned down and gave her a gentle half-hug. “Aunt and uncle were wrong about you…now you have chance here with us. Prove them wrong.”

A little taken aback by the hug, Lar-Nah fought back tears the best she could and leaned into Heavy’s hug. “Thank you…I’ll try.”

Olivia noticed Lar-Nah was about to cry, so she did the only thing she could think of and leaned against her arm. Lar-Nah didn’t respond to the touch at first, but after a moment, she gently patted Olivia’s head.

Miss Pauling's thoughts strayed back to Helen as she watched the scene unfold in front of her, and it was then that an idea hit her. “Wait…” she stood up, thinking it over. “Guys…we have to go out and find Helen!”

“What?” Soldier looked up, confused.

“Pauling, she’s an adult,” Engie assured. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“No! No…” Miss Pauling began to pace, shaking her head. “I know her better than a lot of you guys…she took the Australium before she left, that means she’s probably not planning on coming back!”

Demo gritted his teeth. “’Course she took that. Well, where would she be?”

“I don’t know…” Pauling confessed. “But we have to find her and hold her accountable for—for everything, honestly. She’s been finding ways to avoid having to take accountability forever, and we need to put a stop to that!” she looked at Olivia, taking a breath. “For the sake of everyone. That includes herself…”

“What should we do then?” Spy wanted to know. “Should we form a search party?”

Pauling nodded. “Yeah…yeah. We should take multiple cars and drive all around, everywhere she could be!”

Heavy gestured to Olivia. “What about her? She stays here?”

“Can I come?” Olivia asked, looking up pleadingly at Miss Pauling. “I wanna help…”

Miss Pauling paused, thinking it over. “Olivia…I don’t think we can leave you here. Those people, they could come back, and then…” she shook her head. “I know what we’ll do—we’ll bring you along, but you need to stay in the car at all times, okay? We can’t risk letting anyone see you!”

“She can stay in my van,” Sniper offered. “I have room and a little space I could hide her.”

“Good,” Pauling nodded, relieved. “We’ll do that, then…”

Olivia adjusted Teddy in her arms, feeling a flurry of both excitement and fear. “We’re gonna get Mommy back here?”

Miss Pauling reached down, placing her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Yeah—let’s hope…”

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xuxszx · 5 years ago

Text

you left me! |August Walker

Pairing: August Walker x Erika Sloane’s daughter [you]

Warining: fluffy, angst, age difference

Words: 2664

A/N: I had never think that I write something about August walker, but yeah. I think there he is softer? Let me know what you think ♥

It was almost half of a year since you were in sex relationship with August Walker, your mother's subordinate.

You met him when he came to your house to gave your mother some papers. August was so fucking handsome, that you just wanted to take him to your bed at the very beginning. But yeah, you smiled all the time when he was near you, and he tried to ignore your smirk and the fact how hot you were in his eyes.

Your relationship started actually at your birthday, when you were alone at home, because your mom was abroad on business trip. He came as he exactly knew that it was your day. He gave you little present, which was a bottle of wine and bouquet of roses Pierre de Ronsard.

"My mom isn't home" you said as you opened the door and you saw the most handsome man in your life.

"I'm here for you actually" he replied and then everything happened so fast. You drank this wine together and kissing came alone.

At first it was a little bit strange to have sex with somebody 15 years older, but yeah. He was so passionate, aggressive sometimes and always hard for you. And in your all live you never was with somebody who looked at you as much as he with pure adore. And you had never come so fast and so hard.

You didn't need a lot of time to fall in love with him. He was always so good for you. He cared of you and never left you without orgasm, but maybe it wasn't the most important. You loved him for his good sense of humor, enormous shoulders and note of mystery. He was always when you needed him.

But all yours problems started when he told you that he loved you. It was so breathtaking declaration of love that just the memory made you shiver. It came as you both layed in hotel room naked hugged. You were laid on his chest and he had arm behind head. August was massaging your back and give you little kisses. And then he said it and your all world shaked.

"I think I love you".

You just wanted to tell your mom that you finally found a man of your dreams. But he didn't want it. Actually he was a little bit scared. At the end he was 15 years older than you, and Erika for sure didn't want a man like him for her only daughter.

"Or we will tell her or it's over. I have no more strength to hide this, August" you said one day and he frozed. He didn't want to lose you,, but he also didn't want to lose his job. August was the perfect agent and the perfect man for you. An you were really pissed that you had to hide your love before your mom.

"Your mother will dismiss me."

"I don't care. You said that you love me. She's not gonna do anything to hurt you, I'm sure about it".

"You don't understand me!" he shouted and left the hotel room. You sighed. It was so hard for both of you. You didn't want to still lied your mother and he didn't want to lost you and his job. More you, but work was also important. He was just scared that your mother will take the love of his life and the only thing that he can do.

So after some days of constant arguments, he agreed to tell your mother the truth. You were his girl, no matter what. She wouldn't be able to take you away from him.

Erika known that this day something will happen. You were more smiled than usual and you promised her a dinner.

"Good afternoon" August said as he entered to your dining room. Erika shook her head. And you knew. You knew that your mother had known about your relationship with Agent August Walker. "I'm your daughter's boyfriend" he added, looking seriously at her. You can felt the tension between the two of them. And if eyesigh could kill, both of them would be lying on the floor.

"I know exactly who you are, Agent Walker" she replied.

"Mom, please. Can we just sit there and eat dinner?" you asked. They looked at you and Erika nodded her head in replied. She was single mother. She was ready to do anything you wanted to. She loved you with all of her heart. All of you sat down at the table.

It was quiet. The only thing that was heard was the clatter of cutlery. You dropped your knife from your nerves, and August, like a real gentleman, bent down and gave it to you.

“Thanks, honey” you thanked him and saw your mother rolling her eyes. You sighed once again. It was like hell.

They both ended eating at the same time. Then they started to arguing. You don't actually know what they said, but the only thing you heard was "You don't fucking deserve for my daughter, Walker" and "You know nothing about my love to Y/N!".

"Can you fucking stop?" you shouted between two of them.

"I told you it was bad idea. And you don't listened to me, like always" August snarled, still looking at your mother with hate. But you known, all this shit came because they both were scared of losing you.

"Killing with eyes won't resolve your problem" you added, totally ignoring his words. All you wanted was crying. You knew it won't be easy, but honestly you believed that they can get along.

"You're right" Erika said.

"Yeah" August confirmed and hold your hand.

They were quiet for a long, long time. You tried to cheer them up, but nothing improved the current situation. August was pissed and your mother was annoyed. And the only thing you could do was telling about coming change in yours lifes.

"I want to tell you something" you started, and then put a small box on the table.

"What's it?"

"Just open it, babe" you encouraged your man. August unsteadily took the box and opened it.

"You're fucking kidding of me" he answered with anger after a moment of silent. Unexpectedly he got up from the table and left your house without a word.

It was over.

It was almost the end of pregnancy. Each day looked the same. Finally, for God's sake, what could you do in the middle of a forest, in a house full of cameras and all the security equipment your mother needed? The house was huge. However, during those few months of living here, you knew him by heart. You could move with your eyes closed.

That night was odd. The dogs outside goes crazy. The wind was loud. The snow covered all. And you were tired. Your back hurts and nobody could helped you. You called for your private nurse and she promised that she will come as soon as possible.

Your pregnancy belly was huge. All of you were huge. You felt like hippo, and to the very end 5 weeks were still missing. You were broken. Father of your child didn't wanted this God's gift. But you... You were thankful for this piece of heaven. You had her. Your little girl. You were pretty sure, she'll looks like her father. With blue eyes and those cute curls. She'll be stubborn and confident, just like August Walker a man who stole your heart.

The house was quiet. The fireplace gave comfortable heat. And the song was playing low. But the meaning hits you hard.

Now I know I'm not alone

Now I know I can touch my soul

I dream of place where I could stay

I say I dream of place

Where I'll meet you once again

And then your mobile rang.

"Hi, mom" you answered the phone. Erika was your best friend, the only person in this fucking world who cared for you. She wasn't angry like August. But to be honest she wasn't pleased too. She just accepted the fact that you carrying new life. She offered hers help and found that house where you were safe. You both were.

"How do you feel, little one?"

"I'm fine, but a little bit tired and alone" you replied and one lonely tear ran down your cheek. All you want was a huge hug and cuddle.

"He's still looking for you" she said and you felt as your heart done one more hit. Your eyes filled up with a lot of tears, and you felt weak.

"Maybe he should stop"

"You know that he won't. I think he's near you" Erika sighed. Only God know how much she wanted to be with Y/N right now. You wanted to tell something, but noise from outside disturbed you. Someone was close. The lights turned off. At the moment you felt cold and shivers. "Y/N what happened?"

"I don't know, mom. But something is wrong" you managed to say, and then you lost your reach. "I need a gun" you mumbled to yourself. Someone was outside. Probably wanted to hurt you or robbed a house.

The gun was hidden in the kitchen cabinet. You heard footsteps and felt as cold water attacked your body. You frozened. The gun was heavy in your tiny hands, but you know that you must protect your baby.

Your heart bitted like crazy when you were walking in silent through the hall. Living room seemed to be too remote. Every single shadow looked like an enemy and you were really fucking scared. And then you saw it. A huge like a stone man was in your living room. Jesus!

"Put the gun down, babygirl" you heard. The world stopped. He was here. Fucking August Walker was in your house. The lights turned on and you could saw him. Strong and high like always, but with longer hair and beard. But it was still your Auggie. The owner of your heart.

"Don't re ridiculous! Get out of my house, August" you replied. Your voice was shaking like all of your body. A gun fallen out of your hand, and a second later he was near you. August attracted you and you found yourself in his arms again. His musky scent calms you down, and his big hands gently massaged your back.

"I'm not going anywhere" he said and kissed your forehead. It pissed you off. He had no right to kiss you. To touch you. To be near. He left you with all this mess.With all this fear. You pushed him away and slapped his cheek. "Ok, I definitely deserved that" he added. But you were so fucking scared and pissed off that you slapped him again in other cheek. "Calm down, or I'm gonna put you over my knee".

"Just try it and I'll cut your dick" you growled. August smiled to himself, not believing that you could hurt him. "I said once, I will tell you to understand. Get out of my house"

"And I said to you that I'm not leaving. Not now, not ever" he also growled pissed off. You wanted to hit him again, but before your hand touched his cheek, August grabbed your wrist and looked at you menacingly. As if he could scare you. But he couldn't, you were never afraid of him. You really wanted to hurt him. For all these months of life in fear. For leaving. For the fact that despite waiting for him to come back he did not return. You waited a month, then another - until you realized that you was deep in his ass. You kicked him in the balls. Once. And the second one. He moaned in pain and bent in half. "I deserved that too, but for Fuck's sake you love my dick and balls"

"Fuck you, August" you cursed and then you groaned in pain. The baby in your womb liked to fight and it looked like it kicked one of the ribs this time. You sat on one of armchair and tried to breath. But then comes another kick and you felt as tears fell down your face.

"Listen to me" he started as he stand up. August was holding his crotch in one hand and tried to stand straight."I fucked up. I know that, but I'm standing here and I'm saying... I'm sorry, babygirl"

"You left me!" you shouted. "You left and you didn't even write stupid text that you need time!"

"Y/N..."

"You left me alone! You gave up on me! Did you know how I felt? I loved you with all of my heart and now... Get out. Just left me alone like earlier"

"I left, because I was afraid of being father. I left, because I thought that a child will be happier without me. I'm not hiding the fact that I never wanted a child. I'm not a man who should have a baby, but here we are. And if you forgive me, I'll try to be the best father on this fucking world" he said without giving up. He knelt in front of you and took you in his hands. He kissed his knuckles and gently wiped the tears from your cheeks. You felt another kick, so you took his left hand and put it to your belly. Little one kicked once again and August sighed.

"Say something to her" you asked.

"Her?"

"It's a girl, you huge donkey"

"Hey, babygirl. It's daddy. I'm so, so, so fucking sorry for all the shit I have done to your mommy" August said, and then rolled up your hoodie, which actually was his and kissed you pregnancy belly. "Please, forgive me. I'll do anything you want. Please" he added, then looked in your eyes. You were too weak for him. August Walker, the secret agent kissed you and you let him. The kiss was sweet. It was so needy, so missing. "Jesus, what just happened?" he asked as your water broke. Jesus it was too soon.

"My waters just broke, August"

"What the hell that means?"

"I'm in labour! And I have deadline in about 5 weeks! Oh God! It's too soon!"

"Ok, just take a deep breath and I'm gonna take you to the hospital" he tried to calm you down, but it didn't worked. You were scared once again.

"Nope. I'm gonna give a birth at home. My midwife has been going here for almost two hours. Fucking snow covered the roads. I will die here" you started to panic.

"No fucking way. You won't" he said, but you don't cared.

The pain was horrible. As if something wanted to rip you from the inside. You screamed, cried and called him out of the worst assholes in the world. And August endured it like a real man. Not only did it calmed you down, but he still had to assess whether you should start pushing or not. At the very end your midwife came and helped you. You thanked God for her. When she looked after your crotch, August hold your hand and wiped away your tears and sweat.

And suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, a child's cry was heard throughout the house. You looked at August and God! The Hammer was crying. You smiled weakly to him and then he kissed you.

"There is no fucking way for you to gets me pregnant again. Jesus everything hurts me!" you said, almost crying - when you were in the big bed and the baby was between you and August.

"I'm not gonna get you pregnant again. I promise"

"Good"

"Your mommy likes my fingers too, Jane" he said, as Jane holding his point finger put it to her mouth.

"You're stupid, donkey"

"But I'm still yours" he added, and kissed you.

Now you have a child.

And you were the family.

Tag list: @wondersofdreaming @thethirstyarchive @ifuseekamycavill @iloveyouyen @onlyhenrys @avengersandlovers @supersweetstache @dangerouslovefanfic @fumbling-fanfics @followyoursecretsmutblog @honeychicana @henrythickcavill @hnryycvll @honeychicanawrites @mrsaugustwalker @laketaj24 @littlefreya @viking-raider @beautifullmelodyxx

#august walker #august walker imagine #august walker x reader #august walker x you #mission impossible fallout #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #xuxszxfanfiction

164 notes · View notes

paganinpurple · 4 years ago

Text

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

Tired. So tired. It's only 10pm. Work is killing me, I'm sure of it.

If I die, work sus.

Buy Me A Coffee?

AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Day 23 - Pillows and Blankets

Just because he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time didn’t mean he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time.

There were certain things about having spent so long as Chat before he had let Marinette and then her parents in on his secret that seemed to have skewed his appreciation for some of the same things that Plagg loved.

Soft pillows beneath his head, warm blankets around him. Cosy material against his skin and a delicious spot of sun shining down on his torso from the skylight above him.

Warmth.

The blessed warmth that had finally returned to him in full. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Marinette was the source of most of that warmth. He glanced over at her sleeping face –relaxed and gorgeous– despite the spot of drool currently threatening to drip from the corner of her mouth. He gave a soft chuckle and carefully wiped it away with his thumb, causing her to nuzzle her face further into the pink pillow they both shared. He carefully shifted a bit closer to her, gingerly reaching back out to stroke her arm as he considered how she would react if she woke up with him slinking into her snug little bubble.

He thought back to how timid she’d seemed last night when she’d first suggested they share the bed. Even though she had appeared more relaxed than he was when they had first gotten in, he wasn’t sure how much of her confidence was down to her delayed illness and the related lack of inhibitions. Maybe if she woke up feeling renewed, his presence would become a shock.

He balanced himself precariously between the pros and cons of her waking up in a marvellous cuddle-puddle with him. The pros involved the enchanting warmth, the scent of her hair and her supple slightness against his own body; the cons, his own deep-burrowing insecurities and possibly an outrageous physical reaction from the startled girl as she woke.

He was just recalling how much her embarrassed shoves and other attacks had been escalating lately when she surprised him with a violent shiver from beneath the duvet. His arm was wrapped around her with haste and he swore the movement of it blurred before his very eyes. Delicately, he cradled her against him, leaving plenty of space on her side of the bed. That way, he reasoned, she wouldn’t feel trapped if she woke up and instinctively tried to pull away from him in shock.

He felt a tug at his chest and glanced down at the small hand twisting into his shirt lightly, sincere affection once again melting through him as a wave of love with a slight hint of embarrassment flooded his mind. She continued her assault on the fabric, frowning slightly when she didn’t seem better able to grip the material to pull him closer. Instead, she slunk into the last available sliver of space between them, nuzzling his collar bone with her nose. Her only sound was a slight grumble when his sudden shaky breath disturbed the hair hanging against her face.

“M-Marinette?” he said breathily.

Another sharp shiver was his only answer and this time it was followed by a continuous shuddering as her body fought to warm off the invading chill seeping into her very bones.

He tried to reach above him to grab the huge cat pillow she kept on her bed, hoping to position it against her back like a second body to keep all of her heat from escaping, but her hold on his shirt tightened as if he were trying to desert her and she didn’t agree with his departure at all.

He quickly examined the death-grip of her fingers and made a half-hearted attempt to pry them away before the whine that left her throat had him abandoning that idea in an instant.

“Plagg!” he whisper-shouted with urgency.

“Hmm?” grumbled the familiar voice of his kwami sleepily from somewhere on the bookshelf above his head.

“I need to transform.”

“Wh-?” Plagg cut off with a yawn before popping his head over the edge of the shelf, “What time is it? I never heard the akuma alert go off.”

Adrien glared at the tiny creature. “It’s not an akuma and it’s not even that early!” he said in annoyance. His eyes widened and trailed the area around him for a beat before he added, “Probably.”

“Then why…?” Plagg said, trailing off with a grin as he noticed the way Marinette’s fingers were attempting to infuse themselves into the fibres of his clothing. “Oh, I see. Isn’t this the kind of thing you’d usually kill to have happening between you two?”

“Not when she’s freezing, and I can’t move to reach anything to help her!” he spluttered indignantly, averting his eyes from the smug little god.

With a brief shrug from the kwami in response, Adrien called for his transformation, the fabric Marinette was holding onto disappearing in the process of becoming Chat Noir and releasing him from her sleepy constraint.

She fumbled for him and in turn he moved quickly, pulling the duvet up to her chin and tucking it in beneath her back to trap in as much heat as he could. The cat pillow was snuggled in against her back as well, another defence against any pesky draughts that might try to attack with a chill.

He had barely finished his little nest when a small hand clutched at his bell and hauled him back down to the mattress. The high-pitched yelp that he expelled would have been hilarious if he’d heard it from anyone else, and he was extremely thankful that Plagg was vocally-challenged right now because of his transformation.

Refusing to give him an opportunity to remove himself from her clutches, Marinette unleashed another sleeping sneak attack and folded both of her arms around his middle. Her hands met somewhere around the small of his back and from the feel of it, she had interlocked them to keep him from pulling away again.

“Purr,” she sighed dreamily before a scowl slowly began to adorn her face instead. He smiled as she began to gently nudge his chest with her temple.

Taking his cue, he concentrated until he could feel his chest rumble and a gentle hum accompanying it. Relaxing himself once the purr had become instinctive, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed again, his lashes feathering against his cheeks, and found himself drifting off to sleep once more.

Eyelids flickered and twitched as a strange sound reached his ears.

Chat opened his heavy lids again to the sight of dark raven locks and caught the overpowering scent of flour in the air, but he was no closer to understanding why he had woken this time. With a smile, he buried his nose in Marinette’s dark hair and that strange sound from before repeated again.

With a wrinkled brow he slowly dragged his head from the pillow to see if he could spy a source and whipped round when he saw someone from the corner of his eye.

At the foot of the bed sat Marinette’s mother, her eyes dewed, hands clasped over her heart against her floury apron. Her lips were turned up in an amused smirk and when she saw him staring at her in horror, Chat heard the sound again, as yet another muffled chuckle escaped her.

“Sabine!” he wobbled, “I can explain! I-”

“Shush! My goodness, don’t wake her!” she said, palms out towards him in an attempt to calm him down.

“Huh?,” he whispered, perplexed, “I don’t understand. Aren’t you mad?”

…

Well, he’d never been on the receiving end of that look before.

Sabine often used a unique way of alerting Marinette or Tom to the fact that they were being ridiculous over something trivial that they had managed to build up in their head, and it was unbelievably simple. She would simply give them the most deadpan look she could muster, face still and unimpressed. Then, after she had held it for several seconds to make her point, her left eyebrow would raise the most miniscule amount, like a non-verbal version of a sarcastic, “Really?”

That exact eyebrow ascension was being directed at him right now and Chat had never felt quite this stupid before – though for what, he wasn’t entirely sure. It was also kind of amazing how Sabine could make him feel that way, yet never once make him doubt that she loved him as if he were her own son. His own father had often made him doubt his love for him, even back before his mother had gone missing. Back when everything had been “good” at home and magic jewellery was but a twinkle in his imagination.

“Uh, sorry?” he told the woman, feeling like he needed to explain his reasoning, regardless of how sketchy it might seem, “I’m in her bed. We’re not even supposed to be sharing a room anymore, and we’re sharing a bed right now.”

The look never faltered as she continued to silently question his intelligence.

“Not that I want you to be angry, but isn’t that how a mom is meant to be when she finds out something like this?”

Her facial wargame was interrupted when Marinette shivered suddenly and cuddled in tighter to Chat’s loosened embrace to rebalance her dropping temperature. The action reminded him that he still hadn’t explained the reason behind the situation, something he intended to rectify immediately.

“We caught colds,” he summed up, “It’s warmest up here so we decided to share the heat. It’s never happened before, and it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Sabine snorted in a very Marinette-ish way, before a smirk appeared on her face. “Never?” she asked.

Chat felt his face redden more steadily with every second. “We’ve never shared a bed before,” he said, voice tremulous and weak.

”Well, that’s a surprise,” she answered, her eyes at once expanding in shock, “Tom and I were sure the two of you must have been, given how comfortable you are with sharing your personal space during battles and patrols.”

“What?”

“In particular, that picture Nadja’s network got during that little heatwave we had made me think cuddle naps were a normal thing.”

“That was before we knew our identities!” he squeaked, remembering how much Ladybug had lamented dozing off against his chest after a reporter had snapped them in the couple-y position. The questions hadn’t stopped for months.

“Oh? And has something changed since then? …Really?”

Glancing down at the sleeping enchantress next to him, Chat wondered if Sabine might have a point. Had things changed? Part of him hoped so. After all, Ladybug had claimed not to have any feelings beyond friendship for him back then.

Buy Me A Coffee?

#PIP writes #marichatmay2019 #A Feline's Family #MariChat May #MariChat

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 44

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.5k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: okayyy so here it is. time passes quicker, and youll see itll be like that in the last few chapters too. i hope you like this one, i hope youll like the last few chapters. im a bit nervous so i hope it’s not too bad! oh yea and i used a manip someone made on instagram, just thought it was cool haha!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : some requests i used here but ill only post them in the next chapter because i don’t want to spoil anything!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 44 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

August 9th, 2018

That was it. We were done with an other season and I couldn't believe what we accomplished. What I accomplished. We had filmed the last scene two days ago, right on time for me to go see Niall perform in LA two nights in a row and the party organised to celebrate the end of this season was scheduled on the first night of his week off. Everything seemed to fit perfectly together and I was happy. I was genuinely and truly happy.

"Did I tell you how much I missed you?" I heard my boyfriend whisper near my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, making a shiver cross my whole body.

"Mm yes, about a million times in the past 3 days." I replied with a chuckle, tilting my head as he pressed his lips gently on my neck.

I had missed him so much too. We had spent over a month apart and just like I expected, we were even stronger than we were before and that said a lot. We had talked every single day on facetime but it was never the same than to be able to smell him, feel him, taste him... just seeing him face to face was different than on a screen and I had no idea how i'd be able to spend an other 5 weeks separated from him.

"Okay then, did I tell you how good you look tonight?"

I laughed again and turned around in his arms, tilting my chin up to look in his eyes. We were a bit farther from the others, slightly hiding by a part of the wall, and i licked my lips, hoping no one was paying attention to us.

"I'm literally wearing an old pair of jeans that shows how big my ass is and a plain t-shirt." I pointed out. "But thank you."

As if it was a suitable answer, his hands slid from my back to my butt and he squeezed it, making me laugh again.

"I love your ass."

"And in public too?" I asked with an amused smile, my eyebrows raised. "Are you drunk?"

He chuckled and bent down to kiss my lips and i let him, feeling his warm mouth move gently and slowly against mine. No matter how many times we kissed, it always felt amazing, and no one else tasted that good.

"We should go back to the others." I pointed out in a low voice. "They're gonna start wondering where we are."

"Mm, I don't care." he whispered against my lips, making me chuckle low.

"Come on." I just replied, finally taking a step back and tilting my head on the side. "We can cuddle tonight."

We walked back in the room hand in hand and I noticed Dylan looking at us. He sent me a small smile that I answered as I tried to ignore Heidi, sitting next to him. They had been dating for longer than I thought they would and I was wondering if he still thought everything he had told me about her the last time we discussed it. I really thought it was a good thing for him to be with someone else, I just thought it sucked that she was the one he had picked. Still, it was none of my business and I couldn't stop him from inviting her to this party. After all, it was his tv show too, and I owed him a lot. I was well aware that it was more popular because he was the male lead and I knew how lucky I was to act with him.

As soon as we sat down, Heidi and Dylan got up but she left to the other side of the room and he walked to us, sitting in front of my boyfriend. I didn't know if this was about to be awkward but before we could say anything, I heard my phone and frowned. I grabbed it quickly and excused myself, knowing it was even more awkward that I left my boyfriend and my ex boyfriend together.

"Hey Louis, you're calling at a very weird moment." I just said with a smile.

"That's me specialty, love." he let out as a joke, making me chuckle. "You mom tried to call you apparently, but she couldn't reach you so she called my phone. Sweet sweet lady with an incredibly strong accent. It always surprises me."

I rolled my eyes but a smile still drew itself on my lips. "What did she want?"

"She said it was not urgent but she wanted to talk to you, make sure you're not dead or something."

I raised my nose up. "Don't joke with that."

"Sorry love, I didn't mean to bring back... that memory." he apologized after a few seconds of silence. "She doesn't know though, does she?"

"No, only you, me, Niall, and I'm guessing El?"

"Olivia, I didn't tell that to anyone, not even El." Louis admitted, making me smile fondly. "This is no one's business but yours. I promise to keep that secret forever."

"Thank you, Lou." I whispered before swallowing.

I hated to remember that moment of weakness I had, even if I knew it was part of why I was who and where I was today. I really had to hit rock bottom to kick myself up and finally breathe again. If my relationship with Niall was so strong now, it was partly because I had worked on myself and although I knew I still had work to do, I was stronger than I used to be when I first dated Niall. Of course, swallowing all the pills I could find was not my smartest or strongest moment but I was trying to forgive myself.

"Oh you want to hug me right now don't you?" Louis joked, making me laugh through my tears. "I know you!"

I laughed and wipe my eyes quickly before licking my lips. "Yea, I drank a bit too so it doesn't help. I'll text you soon, Lou."

"You better. Love you, queen."

I smiled fondly at the nickname and closed my eyes. "Love you too."

I hung up and texted my mom quickly before going back to the table. Dylan was now sitting next to Niall and it made me frown. I knew they were both a bit tipsy and I didn't want anything bad to happen between them. Gladly, I knew Niall was not into confrontation and Dylan was quite laid-back too. Plus, he was probably over me by then and if they could just accept each other's company, it would be enough for me. I didn't expect them to become close friends, of course, but It would be nice if it wasn't awkward between them anymore.

"Oh and that small.. whimper or whisper she makes when you slip your hand in her panties." I heard Niall comment before Dylan chuckled.

"Right." he agreed, shaking his head gently. "And she's always so ready too."

A tiny part of me wanted to stay and listen to what they were going to say but the part of me that was angry was definitely bigger. I took a step closer but held my breath when Dylan started talking again.

"Let's say it's different than Heidi."

"No man, I ain't going there." Niall laughed while shaking his head before taking a sip of his beer.

"No, I mean, Heidi is very sexy but it's that... that connection, you know?" I frowned and my lips parted when Niall laughed again.

"I don't want to hear about the 'connection' you had with my girlfriend, O'Brien." he pointed out, turning his almost empty beer with his fingers.

"No yea, I know. I just mean that... it's different when you love someone."

"Are you two really comparing how Heidi and I are in bed?"

Both of them jumped so high I thought they were about to fall off their chairs. I wanted to look at their reaction but I decided to focus on my boyfriend and when he turned around, his face changed and I could read fear in his eyes. I crossed my arms on my chest and shook my head, licking my lips.

"That's fucking disgusting. I don't deserve that, and Heidi doesn't either."

This time, I read surprise in Niall's eyes and glanced at Dylan who seemed as shocked as my boyfriend. Oh I still didn't like Heidi, but that didn't mean it was okay for them to discuss about how she was in bed.

"Just because both of you had the chance to fuck us both doesn't give you the right to share gossips about us." I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my anger inside and breathed in deeply. "That's fucking wrong."

I turned on my heels and left before I stopped and turned around again to look at them. "I'm mad at you both, by the way, if that wasn't clear enough."

I walked quickly to my dressing room and closed the door before holding myself against the counter, closing my eyes. I was torn between being mad that they could easily talk about me like that and being relieved that they could actually talk to each other without it being awkward. After a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door and thinking it was probably one of them, I swung the door open but my face changed when I noticed my assistant. My lips curled and I raised my eyebrows a bit surprised.

"You left quickly, are you okay?" she asked, concern written all over her face.

I made a quick head movement to incite her to walk in and closed the door behind her before we both sat down, her on the couch and me on a chair. Tinka was fairly new since my old assistant had to leave due to a pregnancy and we immediately bounded. She was gorgeous and I had to admit I was a bit jealous of her, not only for her looks but also for the way she attracted people easily and all that charisma she had probably inherited at birth, but at the same time, I felt connected to her too and I could never hate her.

"Okay so, I wanted to show you something. I mean at first I was not sure if I should, because I shouldn't have filmed it in first place, but..." she blabbed nervously before shaking her head. "I'll just show you."

She took her phone and clicked on a few things before handing it to me. I frowned, taking it cautiously before noticing she was showing me a video. I clicked on play and my eyes got bigger when I noticed Niall, sitting at the cafeteria as Heidi sat down in front of him. The first part of the conversation was hard to hear but Niall seemed confused and when she handed him a sheet of paper, I frowned again. He stared at what was written on it and finally, she put her hand on top of his and I felt my heart jump high in my throat. The second part of the conversation though, I heard it very clearly.

“You’re right. We should get back together, Niall.” Heidi said with a soft voice. “I mean, I know you’re trying to make me jealous with her but let’s be real. Who could really be jealous of her?"

This time, my heart sank in my chest and I swallowed hard. I was worth more than Heidi gave me credits for, I knew it now, but I also knew she would never see it. Perhaps, she was too busy trying to win Niall back.

“Do you even listen to yourself? You know damn well I’m with Liv and.. aren’t you with Dylan? I love her, okay! I’m not trying to make anyone jealous, I’m just trying to love her the way she deserves to be loved… the way I failed to love her the first time. And you have nothing to do with any of this. What even makes you think I want to be with you?"

I bit my bottom lip, breathing in deeply again and trying to suppress a small smile of relief when I heard my boyfriend's words. The fact that he admitted that he failed to love me right the first time made something stir in my stomach. I knew that failed relationship was not just on him, but it was nice to hear him admit that, especially to someone else.

“Because of that song! You wrote it for me and put it in one of my boxes for me to find!” she argued with him.

I saw Niall roll his eyes and his next words were as harsh as the tone he had used.

“I wrote this about Olivia! I wrote that in the first week I saw her again at the bakery after not seeing her for over a year. It isn’t about you, Heidi. It got in one of your boxes by mistake!” he let out rudely. “I love Olivia, not you. You need to let it go, okay? And those instagram posts you make.. For fuck’s sake, Heidi! What’s the point? Make me feel bad? Alright, I’m sorry I cheated on you, I should have broken up with you before and that was a mistake, okay? Now please, leave me the fuck alone.”

The video stopped but I still stared at the screen, lost in my thoughts, until Tinka talked again.

"I don't know why i recorded this, and I know I shouldn't have, I'm sorry." she apologized again. "But it was recorded anyway so I mean, why not show it to you?"

I just stared at the thumbnail of the video again before clicking on the 'delete' button and when it asked me if I was sure, I clicked on 'yes' without hesitation.

"Thanks, Tinka. I deleted it." I finally said, looking up at her before she nodded. "But thank you for showing me. Just... don't do that again, please. Niall and I we're both very... private."

I handed her her phone back just as an other knock was heard at the door. We both got up and I opened the door as she walked past Niall. He nodded at her and finally turned back to me, his hands in his pockets. I couldn't help but tilt my head, glancing down at him, telling myself once again how good he looked. I also couldn't stop thinking about the way he had told Heidi he loved me and it made me want to hug him.

"Olivia, I'm.. so sorry."

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my eyebrows, expecting more than just a simple apology.

"You're right. It was so wrong, and we shouldn't have." he added, making me lick my lips. "We were literally trying to find something to talk about, and it was so awkward... the only thing we really have in common is you. But we shouldn't have."

I let my shoulders fall and sighed, raising my nose up in a grimace. "So I really make some sort of whimper when you slip your hand in my panties?"

He chuckled and took one of his hands out of his pocket to pass it in his hair. "Yea, you do. But I'm slightly jealous knowing you also whimper like that when he did it. I thought I was special."

"Oh, poor little boy thought he was special." I joked, making him grimace too. "Come here."

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside before closing the door behind him. He was close to me, so close I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine, and when my ass met the counter, I smiled more. He chuckled as he stared down in my eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mm, maybe."

I felt his hand slip in my jeans and panties and my eyes fluttered slightly as my lips parted as I let lout a whimper despite myself.

"And now?" he asked, clearly amused by the effect he had on me.

"I'll tell you in a few minutes." I whispered, tilting my chin up to look at him better.

I felt two of his fingers brush gently on my clit before he slipped them inside me. I moved one of my legs up on the counter and he moved closer to me, bending down slightly until his lips were only a few inches away from mine.

"You're all mine, yea?" he whispered, making me bite my bottom lip. "Say it."

"Mm, I'm all yours Niall." I breathed out, blinking a few times. "I belong to you."

"Fuck yes you do."

He started fingering me quickly, making sure his palm was rubbing against my clit and when I felt an orgasm spread all over my body, I let my head fall back and shook slightly as he pressed his mouth against mine. I could feel his lips curl as I came and I finally got down from my high, whimpering low and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Okay, I forgive you." I whispered, kissing him deeply for a few seconds before moving my head slightly back. "Do you think that's how Dylan will want to be forgiven too?"

I laughed lightly at the face he made and I heard him groan low. "I'll kill him."

I shook my head a bit and my amused smile turned into a fond one. "You know, I never ever moaned his name." I admitted, licking my lips. "I only do that with you."

He looked happy with my confession but he still raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because... I was always scared I'd moan your name instead."

His face changed and somehow, I could read love in his eyes and it made me swallow hard. He remained silent and my lips parted again.

"I've never stopped loving you, Niall." I murmured. "I told you."

"Guess what, Olivia?" he let out in a soft tone, his eyes roaming quickly on my face. "I never stopped loving you either."

----

August 15th, 2018

Dylan had stopped me before I left and had apologized to me profusely. He even texted me the next day to apologize again and I forgave him immediately. Maybe it was because I felt a bit guilty for not telling him about the video Tinka had showed me where his girlfriend was blatantly trying to get back with my boyfriend, but It was easy to forgive him and I knew he felt horrible about it. I was still unsure if I should tell him and at the same time, I didn't want to be the reason of their break-up, or even of a fight so I deciced to ignore it for now but that didn't stop me from feeling bad.

It was almost time for Niall to go back on tour and I felt extremely nervous about it. It had taken me about a week to decide on what I would do. I wanted to go with him but at the same time, I didn't want to be the clingy girlfriend who followed him everywhere. With time, I realized that I could follow him without going back to my old habits but I still had no idea how to tell him. He hadn't mentioned it again, probably because he didn't want to sound pushy or make me feel like I had to follow him, but my insecurity sometimes tried to make me believe it was because he didn't really want to spend so long with me.

"Why did you want me to come with you, Louis?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and turning to him as he was parking. "You know it's one of my last few days with Niall."

Louis laughed and shook his head, turning to me to look in my eyes.

"We both know you're gonna follow him on tour, Liv. Who are you trying to fool?" he said, his accent thick. "You can spend a few hours with your best friend, can't ya?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at how well Louis knew me, sometimes even better than I knew myself, and I realized that I had opened up to him like I had never opened up with anyone else besides Niall. And I didn't regret it at all.

"Yes. You're right."

"Look," he started again, turning on his seat to look at me. "I have something for you."

He searched through his pockets and handed me a well-folded piece of paper, which was surprising. Normally, anything that ended up in Louis' pocket was crumpled or crushed. I frowned a bit and took it before unfolding it gently and carefully.

"I drew it meself. Took me hours."

My lips parted as I looked at the drawing of a crown. It was pretty and he clearly had put a lot of effort into it. It was not perfect, but I thought that's what made it look even more special.

"Wow, Louis... this is..."

"I made it for you." he cut me gently. "If you wanted to get a tattoo, that is. It represents you well, don't ya think?"

I looked up in his eyes and weirdly, I could read stress, like he was not sure how i'd react. The fact that Louis always called me his queen, and that he had even written a song about me with that word made this drawing even more important for me and as soon as his eyes met mine, I knew it would be impossible for me not to get this tattoo.

"I think it represents you, actually." I explained, tilting my head and looking at him. "This tattoo will always remind me of you, and I want you to know that you're important to me, Louis. I would be dead without you. Literally."

His lips curled slightly on the right and stress disappeared from his traits.

"Now you need to draw something for me to get, too." he pointed out.

"Wait, so we're here to get you a tattoo that I would draw?" I asked as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Exactly."

"Can it be simple? I can't draw for shit." I admitted with a grimace.

"Just draw it, give it to the artist, and I'll look at it when it's done."

I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling my heartbeats accelerate and after a while, I breathed in and out. After all, if he didn't like it, he could always get something over it, right?

It took half an hour to get the crown tattooed on my ankle but only about 10 minutes to get the smiley I had drawn for Louis. It was pretty simple with x's instead of eyes and since it was on his wrist, he kept his eyes closed the whole time to make sure it wouldn't ruin the surprise. We walked back to his car in silence about an hour later and sat down, both of us leaning against our seats.

"Is it too simple?" I asked before he turning his head my way with a smile.

"No, it's perfect."

I smiled back at him and held my hand up between us. It took him a few seconds but he finally grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with mine and squeezing my hand.

"Thank you for saving my life." I let out in a soft voice. "Literally, but also metaphorically."

"You saved mine, too."

---

When I walked back in Niall's house... I mean, in our house... I heard him talk and frowned, trying to be quiet in case he was on the phone. I saw him in front of his laptop, just talking to the screen and it took me a few minutes to realize he was probably on a live chat on instagram. I made sure to remain silent and walked to the kitchen to gt myself a glass of wine and leaned against the counter. I listened to what he was saying from the living room, smiling and chuckling from time to time until I heard him say his goodbyes. I wanted an other minute or two, knowing Niall was the kind of person who said bye by stayed an other half an hour with his hand on the doorknob before actually leaving and when I joined him in the living room, he was getting up.

"Are you done?"

"Yes, sorry, I thought it would take you longer." he apologized, making me smile.

"No, it's all good, it's cool that you do lives for your fans." I just shrugged, joining him near the couch. "Your such a good person."

He smiled more and took the glass from my hands before placing it on the coffee table. I chuckled and he wrapped his arms around my waist, raising his eyebrows.

"And does that turn you on?"

I laughed some more. "Maybe."

He didn't answer anything. Instead, he pressed his lips against mine as his arms pulled me even closer. My eyes fluttered close as he deepened the kiss and I sighed low, feeling my body relax in his arms.

"I'm gonna miss you so much." he whispered before kissing me some more,

"I'll miss you more."

He stepped forward, forcing me to take a step back, and guided us around the couch and until the hall. I ended up hitting my back on the wall and I laughed against his lips.

"Clumsy ass." he said in the same amused tone he always said it. "I love you."

We finally ended up in our room and he closed the door with one of his feet, bringing me to the bed and quickly putting himself on top of me. I loved the feeling of his body over mine, warming me, and it always surprised me that every time, it would make a shiver cross my back. I shivered in his arms and he pulled away slightly to look in my eyes.

"How about we stay locked here until I have to take that fucking stupid plane?"

I raised my eyebrows and my lips parted before I tilted my chin up. "Don't you have somewhere to be tomorrow?"

"I canceled." he admitted, his eyes dropping to my lips before he ground his hips against mine, probably without thinking.

"For me?" I asked with a small smile.

"For us."

I brought my hands to his cheeks and let one of my thumbs brush on his bottom lip. "How many times are you gonna make love to me until you leave?"

His lips curled again and he chuckled low. "As many times as I can."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #1dff #my fanfics #yam

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hydra-collector · 4 years ago

Text

Whole: Chapter One

AO3

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Second Fic in the Series

Chapters Finished: 6/6

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders (minor)

TW: self-harm, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, food, sex mention

Words: 3,630

Summary:

Logan can't feel.

Because every time he does, someone gets hurt. His emotions have no place in the world. He vows to squash them down until finally, maybe they'll be gone. But it's not a good idea to suppress such an important part of yourself, to tear your sadness, happiness, anger, until you're left dry and empty.

And Logan doesn't understand that until he meets someone. Someone very, very special.

Note: I actually have this finished, it will be updating daily. I’m likely going to write some extra works, later in Remus and Logan’s lives.

Why are you yelling? Stop yelling, stop.

Logan didn’t know what else to do. He had to tell them why this was happening, they were wrong, he couldn’t control this. It was awful, this awful feeling that made him completely unable to focus while incredibly worried about how he wasn’t focusing. He was just trying to tell them why.

But he didn’t have to yell.

He had no reason to be angry at them. They did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his mom. He wanted her to understand what this was like. The fuzzy mold that dug into his brain and gave him fears that he didn’t want. The bricks that crawled into his chest and weighed him down and he couldn’t get up. But she didn’t understand them and he couldn’t explain, so he yelled.

He hated yelling. It hurt, it scratched, he knew it was bad and he should stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to cry and he did cry, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to destroy something, he was angry, he wanted to punch someone.

He couldn’t.

He was nine, he shouldn’t be doing this to his mother. She was good and kind, and all he did was hurt her. He was awful to her, and she tried to help, but he couldn’t stop from getting annoyed, or angry, or sad. He couldn’t help but wail when the bricks got too heavy, he wanted them to be lighter. He had to move, had to hit something when the fears wouldn’t go away. He was scared his mother hated him, that she would abandon him with his brother. It didn’t make any sense, but he knew what he was doing to her and he didn’t stop. He was too much work for her.

Two years later, he was the same. Still loud, still full of emotions. His throat hurt all the time, his mother kept getting fed up (she’d tried to take him to a therapist and that didn’t work), his brother Patton was scared for his health, and his dog wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. He’d developed ways to stop bothering them, though. Hold his hand to his mouth and bury his head in the pillow until the frustration went away. Bite his arm so he couldn’t keep screaming. Hit his head again and again and again until he couldn’t be angry anymore. It hurt. It was calming.

He’d managed to become a bit less of a nuisance, at least. He’d tried to stop explaining the bricks and the mold and just let them be. They always fade after a while to something manageable. His tears were his own now. His emotions were his, and no one else needed them.

He tried to be happier for his mom. He spent more time with Patton, trying to make him happy. Patton was concerned for him, and he appreciated that, but he knew asking for help would only make them suffer, and they weren’t allowed to suffer. Only he could suffer.

He vowed to become a robot someday. Where he didn’t want to scream or hurt people. Someday it would be gone, everything would be okay. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids that he didn’t hurt like the people he loved now. They would love him and he would deserve it.

Another two years and it had a name.

Depression. Anxiety. Mental illness. They told him what he was and he hated himself even more. He was a thirteen year old being told that he’d been sick since he was a child. He was given ways to cope. He’d never tried to bleed.

He did the day he learned he could.

It was freeing. Hitting and biting was hard, but slicing his skin was so easy and so pretty. The blood that rose from within told him that he was a person, and an awful one. If anyone ever saw, it would be the end of this.

He didn’t yell anymore. Most of the time he was absolutely silent. Yes, he participated in class so he didn’t get a bad grade, but only the bare minimum. He never raised his voice, never allowed himself to laugh too loud. His brother was scared for him, but he didn’t know the half of it. He had few friends, only one other anxious teen named Virgil. He felt more comfortable talking about fear and self-hate, but only in a joking way. He had to close himself off from everyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone.

His mother had, again, tried to get him to go to therapy. She said it would help his anxiety. God, she didn’t even know. He stopped cutting his arms pretty early on, since his mother got concerned that he always wore long sleeves. His legs got all the more blood on them.

How could he have this with people who care? How could he hate himself this much when nothing had ever happened to him? Why had this ever happened?

He didn’t know.

Fifteen was his worst year yet.

He’d made so many friends this year, yet it all got worse. He felt like he couldn’t breathe most days, like every day he was dying. He wanted that, he wanted this feeling gone. How could he heal after eight god damn years?

It was a warm October morning today. The sun shone on his back, glittering across the autumn leaves. The normally boring school looked orange and majestic. Students laughed and chatted as he passed by.

It had been a bad month. He was sure that he’d only been happy for a couple hours in the past thirty days. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed himself yet.

Patton was talking to him about something, probably about another cute kid. Ever since he’d come out as pan, he’d endlessly talked about the people he found attractive. It was exhausting for Logan to hear his brother point out girls he might like. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come out.

He wanted to date. It might be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle, to offer comfort when the days got bad. To have more comfort than cold, sharp blades. He couldn’t do that, though. He’d hurt enough people already.

Still, he couldn’t help but fantasize about some guy that would share his interest in science, talk to him about space and chemistry and biology. He wasn’t good enough for someone like that. Someone that would never date him.

He waved to Roman and Virgil as they passed. They were probably scheming some new way to get out of doing classwork. Logan sped up, realizing it was nearly time for him to organize Ms. Kachinsky’s books. He had to finish before she left her room in the morning to teach. There was supposed to be another kid, too, so he couldn’t be late.

“Hey, Lo, where’re you going?”

“Kachinsky, remember?”

“Ohhh, yeah.”

The building was cold inside. He headed into his teacher’s room, decorated blandly with supposedly motivational posters. He’d volunteered to do this job, no one else was going to organize encyclopedias for a 70-year-old woman. He didn’t know why she even had so many.

As he walked into the half-renovated closet, he was presented with many emotions.

One, this man was munching on a sheet of paper.

Two, he was not adhering to the dress code.

Three, Logan was glad he wasn’t because a crop top and booty shorts looked damn good on him.

“Um. Hello.”

The teenager looked up, paper in hand. He stood up and tossed it in the trash, swallowing. Logan pointed slightly to the trash can.

“You were eating a piece of paper.”

“Yeah?”

“That doesn’t seem like it should be healthy.”

“I looked it up, it’s pretty much fine. Are you here to start on the books?”

Logan nodded and the two of them got to work in silence. The boy was pretty, he had a slight mustache that doesn’t work for many people, but it did for him. He looked a little like Roman, but with a broader build and stronger jaw. He was exactly the type of person that Logan would have designed as the most attractive, in his opinion, if he would have ever designed an attractive man.

“How’d you get roped into this?”

The boy turned his brown eyes to look at Logan expectantly, who wasn’t expecting any kind of interaction with him.

“I volunteered.”

“Oh, teacher’s pet?”

“She’s 70. No one else was going to help.”

“Fair. This is my substitute for detention ‘cause I have to work after school. I’m Remus.”

He stuck out his hand, which Logan took.

“Logan.”

“Oh, really? I was kinda looking into that name. One of my friends stole it, though.”

A look of confusion crossed over Logan’s face, but it disappeared as Remus held out the trans pin on his jacket. He noticed now how many pins there really were. There was the trans one, he/him, a weed symbol (however he got away with that), a skull one, an atom one, a chemistry tube, a gay flag, and various other little ones. They offered quite a bit of insight onto his personality, which seemed more and more attractive as their interaction went on.

Remus kept talking to him, which he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t have much of a personality, and what he did have, he didn’t really show. Most of his personality was just extreme emotions. He didn’t show those, either.

They did get to talking, though. Remus somehow pried out Logan’s interest in science and his plans for the future. They talked about how they’d do anything in STEM if they could. They talked about how annoying humanities majors were, and how annoying they were to humanities majors.

They finished the books, and Remus’s conversational skills got Logan to stay a tiny bit longer. Too much longer.

Before they even knew, there was a click at the door. The closet was big, so it wasn’t like they were right next to the door.

“What was that?”

Logan headed cautiously to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

“We’re locked in.”

Remus whispered “shit” under his breath before running to the door and banging loudly. The sound was fast and loud. They were locked in, they wouldn’t make it to class, they’d get in trouble, he’d be awful all over again-

He couldn’t breathe. He was a failure all over again. He needed to get to class, his nails dug into his skin, his razor could help now, but he was shaking now and everything was wrong and this was supposed to be a simple morning thing and he shouldn’t have stayed and he shouldn’t have liked Remus and he shouldn’t feel anything, not anger, not fear, not sadness, not love-

“Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

This is the first time you meet him and he’ll already know you’re fucked up.

Logan dodged away from him, tripping over a chair and falling on the floor. He could barely control his movements, his arms and hands wouldn’t listen to him, and he was already seeing this, he was never going to get a boyfriend or make another friend and he was dumb for thinking that. He grasped his upper arms with his hands, digging his nails into them, hoping it would help enough to stay fucking still.

“Logan, can you take my hands? If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know we don’t know each other, I just wanna help.”

Logan tentatively reached out his hand, well aware of the indents on his arm. Remus’s hand was warm and strong, so he reached out his other hand as well. He rocked slightly, trying to steady his breathing.

“If you’re worried about getting in trouble, they can’t exactly blame us for getting trapped in a closet. It’s only one day, I’m sure it won’t hurt to miss a class or two. You can make up work and you can talk to your teachers if you’re concerned about missing important stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry for wasting your time with that.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay.”

Logan leaned against the wall now, holding his knees. Remus slid down beside him.

Why do you feel comfortable with him?

Even from their distance, Logan could feel his presence there.

You just met him.

“Whaddya wanna do?”

“...I think I have travel checkers.”

“...Sure.”

Logan searched through his bag, pulling out a tiny box and opened it. The little magnetic pieces had to be pried off of the board and rearranged. They played probably over ten times before the game couldn’t sustain their attention any longer. Logan started trying to stack them, knowing it wouldn’t work, but hey, he was bored. Remus took the ones Logan wasn’t using to form the shape of male genitals.

“Hey, could I borrow some of yours?”

Logan wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. He pushed his pieces over to Remus and leaned back on the wall. He checked his watch. It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to be in class, and no one had come by yet. They probably weren’t going to until Ms. Kachinsky came back to get her lunch. Since her room was being renovated, she was teaching health either in other classrooms or outside if they got desperate.

Remus looked rather proud of himself when he finished his creation.

“So we’re stuck in here for another few hours, with nothing to occupy us but encyclopedias, whatever we have in our bags, and each other.”

“The things you could do to someone in here… With someone. That’s not better.”

“Who cares what anything implies at this point?”

Remus joined Logan against the wall, staring blankly with him.

“You got your phone?”

“Didn’t think I’d need it. How about you?”

“Broken. Like it usually is. At least I have a job. And a brother.”

Remus paused for a moment before speaking again.

“I suppose we’re kinda obligated to become friends. After spending so much time alone in a closet.”

“We could play a game. You do that with friends, right?”

“Never have I ever been stuck in a closet before.”

Logan held up his fingers and put one down.

“If we’re talking metaphorical closets, yeah.”

He took a moment to realize what he’d just said. He’d half-outed himself to a practical stranger. He hadn’t come out to anyone yet.

“Oh, I guess I told a lie then.”

Remus put one of his own fingers down.

“...I’ve literally never come out before. You’re the first person and I barely know you. Heh, maybe I should actually tell my brother so he starts pointing out cute guys instead of girls.”

“I’m honored. Your turn.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go for the boring one. Never have I ever been in a relationship. Not surprised, though.”

“Can I be excused ‘cause it was a girl?”

“Fair. You go.”

“Mm… Never have I ever had a dog.”

“Really? You seem like a dog person.”

Logan put his second finger down, shifting slightly.

“Nah. My dad’s allergic. I keep trying to sneak one in anyway, but my brother always catches me. Didn’t think it’d be that hard to get him on board. He loves dogs. Side effect of being the perfect child, I guess. You don’t let yourself do what you want. My parents are good parents, they just… trust him a bit more.”

“It’s not so bad to be independent. No trans kid with transphobic parents ever chopped off their hair, or binded for the first time, or wore a wig or a dress with their parents’ permission.”

“No one ever found their passion from someone who tried to choose their path.”

“Very insightful.”

“Thank you. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

“Never have I ever worn a crop top.”

“Hey, that’s cheating. You should, though, you’d look good.”

“Would I?” Logan’s cheeks dusted slightly pink.

“Would it be weird to offer you to try mine on?”

“Probably, but I don’t think either of us are very normal. Plus, you develop a certain kind of relationship with someone you’re locked in the closet with.”

Logan’s small blush only darkened as they turned away from each other and he heard fabric moving about. Remus tossed the shirt over his shoulder, and probably blushed as Logan took his own shirt off.

Remus had buttoned his jacket to cover his chest. It didn’t completely cover it, but it didn’t matter to him all that much (Logan, however, turned red when he saw it). The shirt fit reasonably well, a little loose but it looked good nonetheless. Logan was hesitant, but Remus might have thought it looked very good according to the color of his cheeks.

“Didn’t think you could get much hotter. I was very wrong.”

Well that confirmed it.

Logan didn’t usually get flustered so much that other people could tell, but this had triggered the darkest shade of pink to cross his cheeks. Remus giggled at that, which only made them darker.

“Hah, made you blush.”

“Was that your only intention?”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I meant it.”

“We barely even know each other.”

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to flirt?”

“Do what you want, I guess. Sure. Flirt. All laws are broken, we’re locked in a closet.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Now it’s enough.”

“Fine. Got any more ideas?”

“Search for a morsel of food in my bag, maybe.”

“I might have chips in my bag. If not, I may have to resort to cannibalism.”

“Then you wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. And didn’t you say I was hot? Pretty sure a half-eaten body won’t be as nice to look at.”

“You never know.”

Remus found a small bag of chips in his bag, opening it and handing Logan some chips. They both munched quietly until it was done, then returned to their placement on the wall.

“Oh, do you want your shirt back?”

“Not really, but I should take it. Someday when we’re not trapped in a closet I’m gonna buy you a crop top.”

They changed back into their original clothes, Remus nearly stealing a glance at Logan’s shirtless body.

“How much time do you think we’ve got left?” Remus turned his head lazily towards the other boy.

“Probably another hour or so.”

“We never finished the game, did we?”

“No. Your turn, I believe.”

“Except now we both have to put a finger down ‘cause you wore the crop top.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Hey, I put a finger down for metaphorical closets. Plus I let you wear my crop top, it’s only fair.”

“Well… I guess I have two left now.”

“Hah, three. I’m winning. Never have I ever,” Remus began, “eaten pie. It’s the one sweet thing I’ve never had. My mom tries to make it sometimes, but it always gets burnt. I’ve tried to convince them to let me eat it anyway.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

“Seriously? Hasn’t basically everyone eaten pie?”

“Too much sugar.”

“At least it’s fruit, though. I mean, you accepted the chips, those aren’t exactly healthy.”

“That’s an exception. We don’t have any other food.”

“Well, fair. Your turn.”

“Never have I ever… heh, never have I ever been happy. Shit, no, didn’t mean to say that.”

It’s not that inaccurate, though.

“Guess we’d both have to put a finger down. You’re smiling.”

“Hey, doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

“I know how smiling works. If it’s real, your eyes squint at least a little bit. Your eyes are squinting a lot. It’s cute.”

Logan accepted this and put another finger down. He hated feeling because he knew what it did to people when he did. When he was happy, he wasn’t on guard. He had to be careful about what he was doing, else he could end up being insensitive.

“Okay. If I can get one more, I win. Never have I ever been on a plane.”

“God, I wish.”

“Oh, come on. If you end up beating me, I’ll eat your homework.”

“Never have I ever had to copy someone’s homework.”

“Well I guess you managed to get both of us to one. My threat still stands. Never have I ever played piano.”

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna change that at somepoint. You’d be hot playing piano.”

Logan leaned in closer.

“Never have I ever been as pretty as you.”

“We both lose.”

“That- doesn’t even work.”

“Sure it does.”

“God, I barely know you and I’m flirting with you.”

“Like we’ve both said, locked in a closet. Who cares what we do? Honestly I’d be down to fuck if we weren’t in school.”

“We’re teenagers.”

“So? Heh, we’ve already taken our clothes off in front of each other.”

“We weren’t looking at each other.”

They heard footsteps from outside. Remus got up immediately and started knocking on the door as loudly as he could. They thankfully got closer, and they were both relieved when the doorknob turned and the classroom’s light poured in and it wasn’t just a dim lamp lighting the room. Logan felt as if he’d lost something, despite the return to class supposedly being a good thing. He felt just a little bit emptier.

“Ms. Kachinsky! I apologize, it seems as if we were accidentally locked in.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry, boys. I mean, I’m the one who locked you in here, I’m guessing. Well, you’d better get to class. I’ll send you both with a note.”

She wrote them both a note and they went on their way, no way of knowing what she’d just created.

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #ts logan #sanders sides #intrulogical fic #tw self harm #tw suicidal thoughts #tw food #tw sex mention #fanfiction #ts fic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #grays fics #whole

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leavaloo · 5 years ago

Note

Could we maybe break Milo by having the same type of writing as Raihan and Leon where his S/O goes missing ( I’m a sucker for em )

Tis the season to be angsty~ Falalala lalala oh dear

I hope you don’t mind that I played with the idea a bit! It was just too good not to resist.

Also, this one is a lot longer cause I really got in the groove with this one. Hope yall enjoy!

There’s some depictions of blood under the cut for this fic, so please be warned!

Milo was aware that you didn’t use your phone very often, but this was just plain weird. You always sent him a good morning text, asked him how his day was, and the two of you just had some really cute conversations together. If Milo had taken a small break and was staring at his phone with a blush and a smile, it was probably because it was a cute text from you.

And you would also visit pretty often to help him with the wooloo he tended to. So it was very strange to one, not see him doing that and instead looking fairly worried, and two, to not see the two of you goofing about. It was when Milo started asking around the town that people started getting worried. They implored him to take a break from work to go and find you, just in case. Though it took some convincing, he eventually gave into his worry and started to search for you.

That had been a week ago, and now, he had yet to find you. His movements were getting frantic, and it was obvious that he hadn’t slept in a while by the bags under his eyes. Also the fact that he was about to cry at any given moment was a really good indication that he was worried. As he stared up at the stars from one of the wooloo stables, he let that emotion flow out of him.

He hadn’t said how he felt yet. He had run from town to town, frantically looking for you, and yet no one had seen you in the slightest. Some of the wooloo woke up and cuddled next to him, but woke back up when some other wooloo were calling from the distance. The stood up, shook themselves awake, and started to roll over in their direction.

Milo furrowed his eyes in confusion. That was when a couple of wooloo gently bumped in to him, smiled and baa’d up at him, giving him a little nudge and another rolled thump. There was something they wanted him to see. He stood, confused, and followed the rolling trail of wooloo out to the pasture. There was a hole in the fence, one that didn’t look man made. In fact, it looked like there was a pretty big impact, big enough for the wooloo to freely roll through it. On the nearby, trampled grass, it looked like there were little drops of crimson. Milo’s gut sank, but continued through the trampled grass, the wooloo leading him more towards the open plains.

It felt like he had been walking for hours, but the wooloo were still steadfast, and the trail was still there. It was easy to see in the tall grass just what had transpired. Something or someone was being chased, and whatever was chasing it was sharp and angry. The grass around the trail was cut unevenly, and at this point, Milo was so far into the plains that he couldn’t even find his way back to the ranch if he wanted to.

Eventually, the wooloo in front of him stopped and formed a circle. He shifted through the tall grass, and what he saw immediately brought tears to his eyes. There you were, cuddled by a bunch of wooloo and one of the ranch’s prized dubwool. Old Bessie is what they called her, and she had taken a shine to you. She gave a greeting grunt in Milo’s direction, and it looked like she was keeping you warm and safe in the cold night air.

You were cut pretty heavily on the chest, and it was pretty obvious that Bessie had been making sure that you were okay this entire time. Her wool was soaked, and her horns looked like she had seen some battle. Milo rushed up to you, seeing if you were even alive. He sighed happily to see that you were breathing, but shallowly. He jumped at some shifting in the grass, but it turned out to be a bunch of budew, some roselia and a roseraid. They eyed him cautiously, but the wooloo baa’d at them and nudged him lovingly. Each of the grass type pokemon had a berry in their grasp, and they slowly started to feed the berries to you.

Normally, berries didn’t have much healing properties for humans, but each of the water from the sitrus berries was turned into the move life dew, and also gave you a little something to eat. While you were unconscious, your body was probably starved, because you nibbled on each of the berries in turn. The wound on your chest started to heal bit by bit, and finally, it was enough for you to flutter open your eyes to see a sobbing Milo above you. He fully realized that, in these desolate plains, barren of any trees, it must have taken the grass type family a good while to find the berries and bring them back.

“M-Milo?” you sputtered out, weak and exhausted.

“H-Hey…” he managed to get out through sniffles. He held you up to his chest, holding you close, but careful not to make the wound worse. It was definitely going to need proper healing, but it was at least not going to get reopened or infected any time soon. He looked up at the wooloo, Bessie, and the roserade’s family and gave them the biggest grin.

“T-Thank you… so much. I-I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me… I… also don’t know how to thank you.”

The roserade looked down at one of the budew, which was slightly off color. Instead of the usual green, leafy bib that the other budew had, this one was purple. A shiny. The budew waddled up to you, pushing under one of your tired hands, and lightly tapping one of the already occupied pokeballs. You were too out of it to really understand what was happening, so Milo quickly took out a couple of pokeballs, set you back on the ground, and then laid out all the various types of pokeballs he had.

“If you want to be with her… pick one,” Milo said. “If that’s okay with your mama. Once she’s better, I’ll give your pokeball to her, so she can be with you.”

The budew looked… nervous, and ended up looking back at it’s mom for approval. She just smiled and nodded at her child, lightly taking one of her roses and tapping her in the direction of the pokeballs. Milo had only heard of this a couple of times. Sometimes, mother pokemon would seek out humans if their child were shiny, simply in order to protect the shiny child from any oncoming predators. Shiny pokemon were always easier to spot, but by humans and pokemon that wanted a quick meal. The shiny budew wandered over, looked over the pokeballs for a little bit, and ended up choosing a love ball. It tapped the center of the pokeball to be sucked inside, and didn’t even give a tiny bit of resistance. The pokeball clicked without issue, and Milo picked up the love ball with tears in his eyes.

“I’ll take good care of your child,” Milo told the mother, who bowed at his promise. “Please remember as well, you and your family are welcome back at the ranch anytime. If you come by, I’ll make you some of my best pokefood.”

The mother smiled, bowed once more, and nudged the other children back into the tall grass. Milo pocketed the new pokemon before lifting you up in his arms. All the wooloo who had sat down were now standing, with Bessie stretching before starting to lead the way back to the ranch. She stood side by side with Milo, the other wooloo mostly taking the charge. You had already passed back out, but you weren’t as pale, and your breathing was a bit more steady.

“Thank you too, Bessie.”

A snort and brief acknowledgement to Milo.

“Do you think I could give this loveball to her as a confession?”

A grunt and a look of “really?” was all he got back from Bessie.

Milo just laughed and sniffled again. “Yeah… I think so too. I’ll give the loveball first, and then tell her how I really feel.”

He looked down at your tired form, and realized the tiny smile that had creased your lips. He didn’t know if you had actually heard what he said, or if you were just comfortable in his arms, but either way, he leaned down and kissed your forehead, carrying you back to safety. When you were healed, he promised he would give you the budew. As well as an applin.

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exalok · 4 years ago

Text

whaddup my dudes!!!

i am tired and wired and this means brain no writey but brain VERY focused on absolutely all the fic i have going on at once that aren’t prompts (prompts will be incoming, no worries dissociation anon)

and THAT means y’all get to hear about my many. many. MANY projects, or at least the ones that make my heart go pitter patter when i think of them

a few examples: demon!corvo and priest!daud with extra worldbuilding ; the naptime cuddles AU ; corvo doesn’t come to dunwall so jess and daud end up arranged-married for profit (more info..... under the readmore..... i’m gonna get rambly)

also feel free to ask questions, i love questions and they get me thinking even more in depth about the world and specific instances of characters and that is the entire POINT

LIKE OKAY SO MY BRAIN PRETTY MUCH CONTINUOUSLY THROWS IDEAS AT THE WALL AND ABOUT 95% OF THEM STICK BECAUSE I’M A HOARDING RAT BASTARD i love my ideas they are my precioussss

i might have about. 25 fic more or less active at the moment? which sounds like a reasonable number but those are the ones i have an actual plot for as well as the will to get them out into the world

let’s put aside the ones i have actually posted on tumblr or ao3 (teen!daud, domestic zombie apocalypse, bondageverse, knife!corvo) in favor of those you have either no or little idea exist. begin:

I MEAN OBVIOUSLY I MADE FANFIC OF MY OWN FANFIC or as i call it parallel/companion fic, because at some point in the past a prompter inspired me and i was deep in the prince!daud fic at the time and i thought what if high chaos. what if void monster corvo? what if horrifying yet human creature of the depths!!! what if EVERYTHING was TERRIBLE and daud killed corvo as a last ditch and vain attempt to get his people out of burrows’ clutches, and it all went to shit from there??? also they’re bound by marriage contract and the vagaries of magical intention and daud becomes corvo’s life battery, in essence, which you can imagine leads to a very unhealthy relationship i think it’s not spoilering much to tell you it does NOT end well, and i’ll be writing it as a sort of foil to low chaos prince!daud

i have quite a few high chaos fics actually. high chaos is depressing to play but the story outcomes are DELICIOUS and the degrading world and character motivations are a lot of fun to play around in

weirdly enough another one of these high chaos fics is the naptime cuddles AU!!! i won’t lie it’s the one i am currently on and i want to talk about it to everyone so bad constantly. in short, corvo doesn’t kill daud and the whalers because he’s trying to get out and currently too fucked up to fight, and when he doesn’t manage to save emily despite his best efforts he comes back to daud for some kind of symbolic execution. meanwhile thomas convinced daud to take a goddamn nap with him there because daud, despite his paranoia, does sleep better with people around, and this is entirely an excuse for semi-platonic daudthomascorvo cuddles in bed followed by whaler puppypiles when the gang catches on that this is a thing they can do now I LOVE PUPPYPILE WHALERS I LOVE NAPS I LOVE REDEMPTION THROUGH THE POWER OF RESTORATIVE SLEEP please i’m so tired and i can’t actually fall asleep next to people let me live my dream vicariously additionally: this will be my contribution to the absolutely wonderful whaler vineyard of old fanon

there is also what i feel should be a classic and ISN’T though a couple of fics were written around the concept and one in particular is /chef kiss, and the concept is: high chaos corvo meets low chaos corvo!!!!! i made it a threesome with daud because no one can stop me and i fucking LOVE the idea of daud ending up capable of telling them apart through tiny details even when high chaos corvo, bastard that he is, tries to impersonate low chaos corvo, who is a bastard in much more subtle ways and would probably be better at impersonating hc!c than the other way around but finds it distasteful; also i added intense body horror because that’s how i roll and there are eventual magical CONSEQUENCES to hc!c being in the low chaos world and regularly in contact with what is essentially his narrative double when he doesn’t belong there, probably ends in a tragically bittersweet way, i’m not completely clear on it yet though i do have ideas

and oh man......... the time travel corvo fic.... the one where high chaos corvo ends up in his own seven-year-old body........... fuck i hashed out so much of the general worldbuilding for that one and ended up going way too far and imagining a sequel like i always do where corvo learns how to walk universes and gathers people he cares about from places where he can actually save them from their eventual tragic futures and the dissolution of their timelines once the outsider is ousted from the void and a new void avatar is made and SHENANIGANS YO!!! SHENANIGANS AND CAMPING!!!! SELF-CROSSOVERS!!!!!!! I COULD HAVE HIM MEET HIMSELF IF HE HADN’T TRAVELED BACK I’M CRYING I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS

the one where corvo is a fae child is probably a lil bit high chaos though it isn’t determined yet, and he has all of these instincts with regards to possessing and exchange and deals, and assumptions as to how other people must work approximately the same, and he is so wrong. then there’s the really creepy bad touch possible sequel that i won’t get into unless someone specifically asks because it’s a lil bit much really

oh MAN oh SHIT speaking of bad touch there’s another dead dove do not eat one where i grabbed an entire handful of granny rags’ apparent fucking around with magical arrays and rune creation and general spellery and threw it at corvo post-interregnum and he sees “ghosts” and doesn’t understand what the FUCK is going on and things go really badly for him, and one ghost, soon the only ghost, is daud, and corvo doesn’t know if he’s real, if he’s seeing things, if he’s NOT seeing things but daud is some kind of void demon, if he is and also having psychotic breaks he doesn’t remember because he ends up with some hellish bruises, but the real daud is actually still out there just hiding out and corvo will eventually meet up with him and real daud will meet fake daud and even more shit will happen

god, the demon!corvo AU gets pretty fucked up as well if i remember right; corvo is both some dude with a wife and kid and the demon that inhabits him, jess is his wife and the demon that inhabits her (to be clear, separate characters but both based on either jess or corvo oh my GOD what if i switched the demons that would be amazing but no, calm down, maybe for a short what-if scenario that will inevitably turn into its own thing), daud is the overseer with the really good exorcism record trying to get the demons to fuck off except he thinks there’s only one of them and the other takes him by surprise; cue daud being hunted by that demon, furious that daud shattered his favorite pupil, and some revelations about what exactly lives inside the abbey and also under it

on a somewhat lighter note, the one where corvo never comes to dunwall (i think his mom gets sick and he doesn’t win the blade verbena at sixteen?) is also where jess keeps losing her royal protectors to assassination attempts because the first one was decent and died protecting her and the second one was decent and had an accident and people start believing there’s a curse on the position or a curse on her, and she’s like okay so how do i make sure i don’t die now that no one is willing to become my protector since it’s pretty much a death sentence, and she arranges a meeting with the best assassin in the city and suggests an alliance -- protection and some commission overview, all secret, versus funding and housing -- in the form of a marriage and daud ends up agreeing; then later duke abele visits and corvo is among his personal guard and he gets to meet the empress, and the assassin, and there are ot3 shenanigans

oh my GOD also the kids in karnaca AU. obviously. fuck you may have seen the (dis)armingly charmed notefic but this would be them meeting as actual kids, in karnaca, just tiny babies, daud recently kidnapped and corvo doing his best to make this cool older kid into his friend and also maybe hiding him from the people who want to train him to do Illegal Things, and there are dumb childish arguments and daud goes on the run to avoid capture and there is an exchange of letters that at one point stops and corvo is Devastated and there is a REUNION and they are ADORABLE but also INCREDIBLY STUPID, AS IS RIGHT AND CORRECT, and i don’t know what happens later but it gives me warm fuzzies okay

then i have a NUMBER of oneshots that are more or less plotted out, like the one where jess has a kind of groundhog day because Heart reasons but over months and starts out not quite remembering what happened in past attempts and OF COURSE it ends with royal ot3; and there’s the one where Daud becomes the Outsider and is very temporally confused and OF COURSE it ends with corvodaud who do you take me for (including Very Perplexing arguments where daud doesn’t know at what point in this relationship’s development he is and corvo is angry or very patient depending on where he accidentally time travels to, and i make some assumptions about the non-linearity of the void avatar’s existence); and there’s the one where corvo catches the plague and gets through kingsparrow to get emily out then to people he trusts, ie the curnows and sam beechworth, then crawls away to die, but daud finds him and sighs and rolls up his sleeves and sends whalers to the Tower and emily thinks the Tower is haunted then, when it becomes very clear the Tower is not, demands one of these assassins teach her how to stab a bitch; AND THERE’S THE ONE WHERE CORVO AND JESS ARE GHOSTS AND DAUD IS A REAL ESTATE AGENT AND THE WHALERS ARE THE KIDS HE TRIED TO HELP OUT AS A SOCIAL WORKER and yes it’s ot3 and yes he buys the ghost house and ends up being filmed by the whalers to do cooking videos and fancy knife tricks and asmr because his voice is insanely soothing when he’s not being ornery; oh fuck and there’s the one where i wrote an unrequited corvodaud prompt and my brain grabbed it, smelled it, and decided that corvo very reluctantly falling for daud was necessary to the health of my feelings, and there is at least one (1) sleeping beauty coma while corvo yells at the outsider about the Heart; also there’s the one where in D2 billie was evasive about the old guy living with her on her boat and em finds daud rather than sokolov in jindosh’s basement and they have long, emotional discussions; and for the character building hell of it one that would span the outsider’s beginnings and growth and how the void tries to welcome him in

okay........................ i think i’m done rambling now

i love fanfic y’all

#dishonored #writins #so many writins #gonna have me a nap now

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unbealevable · 4 years ago

Text

GOBLINS ➝ BECHLOE.

TAGGING ➝ Chloe Beale, Beca Mitchell.

LOCATION ➝ Beca, Chloe and Amy’s apartment.

TIME FRAME ➝ 2/10, afternoon.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Beca comes home to find Chloe and five new babies.

CHLOE BEALE

Although they’d smiled politely and thanked the woman who had come into the clinic mid-morning with a box of newborn, abandoned kittens, everybody had actually been kind of mad about it. For all she knew, their mom had simply gone to find food, and would return to find her kittens gone, but they were here now, and there was nothing they could do to reverse her actions—if the cat had returned, she would be long gone by now, and her babies wouldn’t smell like her anymore. This, of course, meant that they now had five helpless kittens to provide twenty-four hour care for, and without considering the shoebox she lived in, Chloe had jumped at the chance to volunteer.

After checking them all over, they all seemed to be in generally good health, and were each given tiny paper collars in different identifying colors—red, blue, green, yellow and purple—before being bundled into a new, bigger box with fresh blankets, and Chloe had been dismissed early to get them home and settled. Considering they couldn’t yet open their eyes properly, it wasn’t like they needed toys or food bowls or anything; the clinic provided her with plenty of kitten milk and syringes to feed them, then the rest was pretty much up to Chloe.

Navigating the city with a box of kittens proved to be a task, as did opening doors, but once they were safely out of the cold and closed away in the apartment, Chloe cleared a space by her side of the pull-out bed to settle their box, then set a timer for every two hours on her phone for scheduled feeds.

By late afternoon, changed out of her scrubs and into a standard winter comfort outfit of leggings and a sweater, Chloe sat cross-legged on the bed, pouting at the soft whines to ring from the box beside her as she scrolled through kitten care tips on her laptop. “I know, you’ll get more milk soon,” she cooed toward the box, leaning over to admire the tiny black and white blobs sprawled out in their makeshift bed.

BECA MITCHELL

Another day, another frustrating shift at the office. While Beca wasn't a fan of physical activity in general, she was low-key grateful for her studio commute as the musical decompression time on the subway plus the several block power walk to and from her subway stops helped blow off some steam. So she wasn't in the worst mood by the time she got home, all things considered.

Especially because her apartment had heat. And food. And…

"Chloe?" Beca cast a confused wave at her roommate as she set her laptop bag down gently by the foot of the bed. Then she carefully removed her headphones from around her neck and shrugged off her blazer. "What's up, you okay? Are you sick or--"

The tiniest mewl interrupted Beca and her brow furrowed as she followed the sound toward the other side of the bed. "Uh, what…" Taking a few steps over, her hand flew to her mouth and barely muffled her gasp at the sight of the tiny creatures in the box. "Dude, oh my god!"

CHLOE BEALE

In hindsight, maybe Chloe should’ve texted her roommates to at least give them a heads up about the kittens, but she’d been kind of preoccupied all day, so the thought had just slipped her mind. It wasn’t until she heard the door opening that it registered to her, and Chloe bit back a grimace as she took in Beca’s reaction. She couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not.

“Before you say anything,” she began quickly, pushing her laptop aside to instead swing her legs over the side of the bed, body now facing the box. “They were abandoned. Some lady brought them to us this morning, and they don’t have their mom, so now someone has to take care of them until they’re big enough to take care of themselves.” Chloe pulled her lips inward. “Don’t make too much noise, okay? They’re really tiny, you might scare them.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca may have perfected her hard-ass exterior over the years, but while she held firmly to her belief that most people suck… she'd always had a soft spot for animals. Some of them even melted that badass persona right into mush. She couldn't help it.

"Oh my god, okay." Beca kept her voice low and toed off her boots before lowering herself to sit on Chloe's side of the bed beside her. "Poor babies! They're so freakin' small, holy shit. I've never seen a cat that small." And there were five of them!

All of this information processed a little too slowly as Beca tried shaking off the shock and she cut Chloe a glance, blinking. "Wait. Does that mean we're taking care of them until they're big enough?"

CHLOE BEALE

Pleased that Beca at least didn’t seem angry, Chloe’s expression softened, and she glanced between the box of kittens and her best friend seated now beside her. “I know, they’re newborn,” Chloe explained, keeping her volume low so as not to wake the ones that were still sleeping. Technically, they all should be sleeping between feeds, but already some of them were a little more lively than the others. “We don’t know when exactly they were born, but it can’t be more than a couple days. You see how they can’t really open their eyes yet?”

Peering into the box, Chloe pulled in her lips again. “Umm, yes,” she nodded. “I mean, I’m taking care of them. It would be awes if you could help, but you don’t have to. They do need to be fed a lot, though… Every two to three hours, in fact.” Chloe paused, nose wrinkling as she shot Beca an apologetic look. “And that’s every two to three hours, including during the night.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca nodded without hesitating. “Shut up, nerdface. I’m not gonna let you do this shit by yourself--it sounds like a lot of work. And I’m here already. I’d be a dick if I let you do this all by yourself.” Not that Chloe needed to ask. Seriously, Beca never thought twice about helping Chloe, that’s how it had always been. She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a bit, seemingly losing her restraint. (At least she didn’t let out the squeal. She had a cool image to maintain.) “So can I hold one??”

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe knew Beca was a softie for animals—who wasn’t?—but she still felt a certain sense of relief in response to her reaction. It was much better than she’d expected, considering they were going to have a lot of sleepless nights ahead of them. But Beca was her best friend, and Chloe knew that she’d always have her back, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her.

Her lips relaxed into a warm smile. “You can, but you have to be extra careful, okay? In fact…” she paused, picking up her phone to check the time. “They’re due another feed really soon, maybe you could feed one or two of them?” Pushing herself up from the bed, Chloe bounced toward the small kitchen, then directly to the fridge to grab the kitten milk. “There are a couple syringes by the box, grab those and we can fill them. Feeding them is so cute, Bec. They make the sweetest little suckling noises.”

BECA MITCHELL

“Oh, um--sure!” Her reply tinged with a sudden injection of anxiety. “They’re so freakin’ small,” she noted as she peered into the box once again. “What if I accidentally crush it or something?” Beca wrinkled her nose, knowing the concern was likely a dumb one--she had pretty small hands, after all. While Chloe set up the milk, Beca hurried to change into her pajama pants and a soft t-shirt, wanting to get comfy before handling the baby kittens.

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe chuckled quietly as she got to work on carefully heating a saucepan of water. “You won’t. They’re also less fragile than they look… But I mean, don’t, like, squeeze them or anything,” she frowned, focus on preparing everything she needed. While Beca changed, Chloe set a fresh container of milk into the pan, keeping the heat low, before shuffling back toward the bed to plop back down into her previous position.

Grabbing the small notebook she’d been recording their feeds (and other habits) in throughout the afternoon so far, Chloe pulled it into her lap, opening it up to scan over her earlier notes. “I’m guessing you’ve never fed a kitten before?” she questioned, lifting her gaze toward Beca. A shot of excitement ran through her at the idea of getting to teach her something, even if it was just how to syringe feed, so Chloe wasn’t going to waste any time, and leaned down to carefully scoop up the first meowing kitten.

“This one’s name is Green for now,” she said in a soft voice, pulling her hand close to her chest and glancing down toward the black and white blob with a small, contented smile on her lips. “They’re all named after the colors on their collars,” Chloe hummed, reaching out with her finger to delicately stroke over the kitten’s tiny head. “Do you want to hold him? His milk isn’t ready yet, but I bet he still loves cuddles.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca had to bite back her smile as she watched Chloe go into vet mode, writing her notes and analyzing the situation. “Nope. Can’t say I have, Dr. B. Good thing I’ve got you to teach me.” Pride shined in Beca’s eyes as she watched her best friend handle the kitten with such gentle care. Chloe would be an incredible vet, and it was super awesome she found something she had so much passion for and could make a career out of it.

“Green,” Beca repeated, a slight smirk twisting on her lips. “Like the Green Goblin. Dope.” Her spine snapped straighter when Chloe asked if she wanted to hold him, and she couldn’t resist shooting Chloe a sheepish smile as she made grabby hands toward the baby. “I’ll be real careful. Promise.” She carefully helped transfer the kitten into her hands, gasping as she brought him against her chest. (Mindful of her sore nippes, as always lately. Thanks, Stacie.)

“Hey there, little dude!” Beca whispered, carefully stroking the soft fur on his back before dropping a kiss to his head. “I’m Auntie Beca.” Well, so much for not getting attached.

CHLOE BEALE

It was perhaps kind of pathetic, the way Chloe’s entire body would tingle with pride whenever Beca called her that particular name. To be more relatable to their clients, everybody just used each other’s first names at the clinic, so she only really got the doctor title at home, but it always made her feel incredibly warm.

“Yes, exactly like the Green Goblin,” Chloe grinned, the reference going entirely over her head. “There’s also a Red Goblin, a Yellow Goblin, a Blue Goblin and a Purple Goblin.” Her gaze was down on the kitten, but glancing over to see Beca so eager and excited made Chloe’s heart flutter in the strangest way. She couldn’t resist cracking a bright smile in response. “I trust you, Bec.”

Cautiously handing him over, Chloe watched the way Beca interacted with the kitten, and did all she could to bite back her grin. “Auntie Beca,” she giggled quietly, reaching out to run the pad of her finger over Green’s head again. “He’s so cute, right? He’s definitely one of the more lively ones already. He has one brother, Blue,” she explained as she rose from the bed to go check on the milk. “Then the rest are girls. Do any of the others look like they’re awake?”

BECA MITCHELL

"He's so freaking small," Beca marveled, continuing to card her fingers in what she hoped was a soothing rhythm through his fur. While Chloe tended to the milk, Beca peered back into the tiny kitten box. "Um… it's hard to tell since their eyes are all still closed but it looks like purple's squirming around a little." Beca refocused her attention on the green collared baby in her hands, hitching her voice up an octave in an uncharacteristically gooey sort of way. "You hungry, buddy? Dr. B's fixing you up some grub right now."

CHLOE BEALE

Careful not to let the milk get too warm, Chloe pulled the container from the pan, testing a small drop on the back of her hand like regular baby milk. “Oh, really? That’s good, Purple has been the least lively so far,” she commented, turning off the heat and bringing the milk back over to the bed with her. Although she really wanted to say something about Beca’s adorable baby voice, she held it back, and instead just grinned as she reached for two of the syringes.

“You can feed Green while I feed Purple?” she suggested, carefully measuring out the correct amount of milk into the first one, then set it down on the bed beside Beca. She did the same with the second, before reaching into the box to scoop up Purple, the obvious runt of the litter. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, bringing the smallest kitten up to her face to take a look. “I don’t think your brothers and sisters let you get much milk from your mama, huh?” Chloe pouted, setting the kitten down in her lap on her back legs with her hand securely holding her upright.

“Okay, so this is how you feed them,” Chloe began, grabbing the closest filled syringe and guiding it toward the kitten’s mouth. “Nice and gentle,” she just above whispered, finger pushing delicately on the plunger. “You just do one little drop at a time, otherwise they might not be able to swallow it properly.” Chloe watched the kitten for a moment, then glanced toward Beca. “You try.”

BECA MITCHELL

“Just you wait,” Beca said, eyeing the tiniest of the litter. The ‘runt’ or whatever. “Purple’s gonna be the toughest cat there’s ever been. Small and scrappy as fuck. Nobody’s gonna dare mess with her.” Was Beca projecting? Nope. Not even a little bit.

She paid close attention to Chloe’s kitten feeding process, only getting somewhat distracted by how adorable she--it was, her whole… vet thing. She’d always been a good teacher (especially when it came to choreography), but helping Beca learn how to care for newborn kittens was pretty damn cute.

“Here we go, Goblin. Milk time.” Gentle as ever, she repositioned the kitten and held up the syringe, pressing out one drop for him. She brightened when the tiniest pink tongue poked out to lap it right up. Beca giggled. “Delicious, huh? Here ya go, have another drop.” Beca remained hyper focused on the kitten, feeding him one drop at a time. She figured Chloe would stop her when he had enough.

CHLOE BEALE

“Small and scrappy,” Chloe echoed, brows rising playfully. Beca was totally describing herself. “She’s gonna have to be scrappy when they start sharing a milk bowl, I think Red is going to be super greedy. She’s already the biggest, and she really, really loves her milk,” Chloe chuckled quietly, glancing toward the open page in her notebook.

Although focused on feeding Purple, she couldn’t help but let her gaze drift toward Beca, at first watching to make sure she knew what she was doing, but then lingering, because there was something almost irresistibly adorable about Beca Mitchell syringe feeding a tiny kitten.

Not that Chloe would ever think of her best friend as irresistible in any other instance, of course.

“This is cute now,” she hummed, gaze moving toward Purple again. “But how do you think you’ll feel about it when we have to wake up every two hours during the night?” Chloe paused then, sending Beca an apologetic look. “I really can figure something else out. Maybe Amy will switch beds with me until they’re a little bigger and don’t have to have regular night feeds?”

BECA MITCHELL

“Well Purple’s gonna have to show Red who’s boss. I believe in her.” Beca cast Chloe a quick smirk before refocusing her attention on her little Green Goblin, who was basically the most adorable creature Beca had ever seen.

“I’ll make it work,” Beca said with a shrug. Though honestly, if literally anyone else in the world asked Beca to deal with waking up every two hours for at least a few weeks, she’d laugh in their face. Chloe… played by a different set of rules. (She always had.) “I mean, how many chances will I get to raise baby kittens like this? It’s pretty awesome.” She pulled a grimace at the suggestion, shaking her head. “Oh god, please no. Waking up every two hours is cake compared to sharing a bed with Amy. She’ll dutch oven me to death.”

CHLOE BEALE

The apologetic expression melted into something more appreciative, with Chloe shooting Beca a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Bec,” she nodded, turning her focus back to the feeding kitten again. “I’m just worried you’ll be tired at work. I’m gonna bring them to work with me and come home between classes,” Chloe explained, tip of her pointer brushing soothingly over Purple’s head. “I can also weigh them and stuff at work, and I bet some of the others will help out there, too. It was weird that nobody seemed to want to take them, though.” Her nose wrinkled, though she shook off the thought; Chloe had always been the first to jump at the chance to help, after all.

Glancing toward Beca, Chloe motioned to her chest, gaze instinctively dropping for the briefest of moments, though she quickly picked it back up again. “Still sore?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I’ll figure it out,” Beca muttered. “I can always hook myself up to a coffee IV at work, it’s fine.” She cast Chloe a tight-lipped smile before glancing back down to the kitten lapping at the milk droplet. “He seems like he’s worth it. They all do.” She peered over the side of the bed into the box of the three remaining kittens, all who seemed to be asleep at the moment.

She blinked at Chloe’s question, following her gaze and puffing out a chuckle. Her cheeks warmed and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s been a rough week. Tattoos are healed up by now but this sucks so far.” Beca sighed. “They’ll get better I guess. Eventually.”

CHLOE BEALE

“True,” Chloe shrugged, cracking a grin. “Sounds very healthy.” In spite of everything, she wasn’t trying to talk Beca out of it. In fact, she was very grateful for the help; it felt like a strangely nice bonding activity of some kind, taking care of the kittens together. While she watched Beca and Green from the corner of her eye, Chloe’s gaze drifted toward the box, sad smile tugging at her lips. “They do. I just feel bad for their mom. Their real mom,” she corrected, lifting the kitten up to talk in a baby voice, “I guess we’re your foster moms now, huh?”

Being careful not to let her gaze slip again, Chloe only nodded to Beca’s response. “Mm, when I got my navel piercing it bled for a whole week.” She paused, a look of horror creasing onto her face. “Wait, they’re not… bleeding, right?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I mean, captaining the Bellas for three years was pretty much like herding cats most of the time anyway. This shouldn’t be much different.” Beca’s heart cracked with empathy when Chloe mentioned the kittens’ mother, but then thumped harder at Chloe uttering the phrase foster moms. Like--both of them, doing this together.

She wrinkled her nose with sympathy and shook her head. “No, no bleeding. They’re just, like--super fucking sensitive? Especially in the shower. Yikes.” Beca winced. “I guess they’re not as sore as a few days ago, so that’s good.”

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe giggled at the mental image, head nodding along in agreement. “I guess. Kittens are crazy, though. Like, even more than the Bellas. Especially when they get a little bigger and want to run around all night.” She really had gotten them into something here, but there was something exciting about it too, sharing this big task, and Chloe couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what.

Her eyes immediately shot back toward the kitten, because Beca totally didn’t mean that kind of sensitive, but Chloe’s mind began to race somewhere it definitely shouldn’t. “Mm,” she hummed nonchalantly, keeping herself busy with shaking the syringe a little bit to keep Purple awake. “Then they’ll be better in no time. Be thankful you’re not a cat, if you were then the kittens would be suc—” She caught herself, trailing off and pulling the syringe carefully away, before settling the kitten down on its belly. “Gonna let your brother and sisters have some now, pretty girl?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I dunno, dude… drunk Bellas might be on that level.” She chuckled, a few specific college memories flashing in front of her eyes. (Literally flashing, in Stacie’s case.) Green Goblin yawned and licked his lips once more. Beca snickered. “Speaking of--are you milk drunk, buddy? You look like you’re ready for a nap.”

Beca’s eyes popped wide and she blinked at Chloe, amusement twisting up the corners of her mouth as she scrunched up her nose yet again. “You’re such a weirdo,” she reminded Chloe for what must’ve been the ten thousandth time throughout their friendship. “Yeah, let’s switch it up. I’ll take Red.”

#char: beca.#f2f: beca.#f2f (3) beca.#thesickestbeats

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