#hiccup has ALWAYS known that his dad would catch him

[ljf613]

This hug lives rent free in my mind at all times.

“I spent most of my life trying to prove to my dad that I could be his kind of Viking… As it turns out, I already was.”

Riders of Berk, Episode 8

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting, Breast Play, Body Worship, Praise, Aftercare

Summary: darlin' hold me while you wipe my tears, fallin’ you say i’m wise beyond my years

A/N: An anonymous request that I LIVE for!!! Inspired by @osaemu's fic.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

You should have used waterproof mascara.

You should have known no matter how sparkly your dresses were, how perfect your makeup was, or how pretty you looked, he’d always find attention from someone else who did it ten times better. But you had still hoped. Hoped that on your own goddamn birthday, your own boyfriend would spare you even a second of attention. Instead, you’re tilting your head back outside on his shitty mansion’s balcony so your tears don’t ruin your makeup. 

If your boyfriend was going to fuck every girl at this party but you, you wanted to at least look somewhat pretty and not like the sad, lonely mess you know you are. You embarrassed yourself enough when you had stormed up to him, interrupted his groupie make out session, and slapped him across the face screaming about breaking up with him. You can feel your chin wobble at the thought, and you sniffle and blink rapidly at the sky in an attempt to banish the new wave of sadness that courses through you. Best present ever! Your late twenties are treating you sooo well!

The sound of the balcony door opening catches your attention, and you’re quick to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as you clear your throat. You turn towards the door, ready to give whoever it is a wavering smile and a, Oh! I’m just out getting some fresh air! The smell of cigarettes was so strong haha! I promise I’m not crazy and go around slapping people on my birthday! But, you’re surprised to see Miguel, Gabe’s dad, standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. And he's staring at you. You sniffle again, blinking rapidly. Gabe’s almost a carbon copy of his father, minus the ruggedness that comes with aging. Miguel also has the working man appearance to him, rough around the edges from hard work that his son doesn’t have. Miguel looks exactly like your usual type, but of course you had to go for his young, stupid son. 

You can feel tears beginning to spill from your eyes again and you turn away. You’re sure he’s going to kick you out, question you on why you’re still here after making a scene and slapping his son in front of everyone. You try to muffle your teary hiccup by placing your palm over your mouth as you rest your elbows on your knees. Miguel sighs deeply, moving to sit on the chair parallel to yours. You turn your head slightly as you catch movement, wet eyes noticing the half empty beer bottle Miguel silently holds out for you. You blink at it for a few seconds in confusion, only understanding that he’s offering it to you when he shakes it slightly in his hand. 

You pull your mouth away from the palm of your hand and shake your head slightly as you mumble, “I don’t drink.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, taking the bottle back and taking a sip. You study him for a second, waiting for him to get mad or something, but he just looks straight ahead admiring the view as he sips on his beer. After a while, you do the same. You look straight ahead, feeling the tears dry on your face. Your face feels slightly sticky from the tears, and you have a feeling you’ve smudged your mascara and eyeliner. 

Now that you’re not focused on crying all the water out of your body, you realize how cold it is outside. You shiver, only lasting a few more minutes before you’ve decided you rather not die of hypothermia tonight. As you’re about to get up, Miguel speaks up. 

“I’m sorry about, Gabe. I don’t know how he turned into such an ass. He’s a piece of shit for making a pretty thing like you cry on your birthday.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. You give him a tight lipped smile, shrugging in mock-indifference. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t like him that much anyways, no offense.” Then, to lighten the mood, “I’m not an expert on feelings, but I don’t think he liked me that much either.”

Miguel stares at you like he doesn’t believe you when you say you don’t like him, but it’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything romantic for Gabe in a while. The only reason you’ve stuck by him was because he’s the only person you really know in Nueva York. But now, you’re all by yourself in this big ass city. At least you love your job. 

“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot for letting you go. Trust me, sooner or later he’s going to regret it.” Miguel defends you. He looks personally offended at the thought of his son, or anyone, not liking you. 

His words make your smile brighten slightly and you laugh, “Thank you, but I really doubt that. By tomorrow he’ll probably forget I even existed.”

Miguel scowls at that, and you yelp when his hand reaches out and pulls your chair towards his. Your knees knock with his, and you have to hold onto the armrest of his chair to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. You look up at him with wide eyes, breath stifling from how close his face is to yours. Your heart beats erratically as he leans in close, the almost red-brown of his eyes getting more detailed. Your eyes can’t help but trail down to his lips. They’re slightly glossy from his beer, and for the first time, you're tempted to try it. 

You’re quickly startled out of your thoughts when Miguel’s hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. They’re slightly hooded as he looks down the end of his nose at you, and you gulp nervously. His thumb caresses your skin gently, and you have to work hard to not close your eyes as he leans his face down. Instead of the kiss you thought he was going to give you, he shifts until his mouth is close to your ear. 

Your disappointment quickly disappears as your breath hitches. His breath his warm against your ear as he whispers, “He should have treated you like a fucking queen.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes dropping to your thigh as Miguel’s other hand moves to rest on it. It kneads the plush skin softly before sliding up and fiddling with the ends of your dress. His hand looks so big on your body. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, they’re rough and cracked. Totally different from the too soft hands of Gabe. The hard difference between a man who works hard to get what he wants and a boy who expects everything served to him on a silver platter. 

Miguel’s hand begins to slip under the edge of your dress, and your body straightens with your gasp as his fingers skim the center of your panties. You can practically sense Miguel’s smile as his fingers ever so lightly brush up and down. You can’t help the way your body squirms at his touch, thighs threatening to close around his hand. His fingers float higher and higher, until they’re pressing against your clothed clit. You can feel yourself dripping into your panties and you whine. 

“I can treat you like the queen you are.” 

Miguel’s voice distracts you from his hand, eyes moving up to his face as he moves away from your ear. His eyes are glossy with lust, something hot in his gaze. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, and based on the way Miguel’s eyes darken, he felt it too. His words pound against the walls of your brain, repeating and stretching as you think up of what he means. 

In the end, all you can let out is a: “W-what?”

Behind the lust, Miguel’s eyes flicker in amusement. His hand leaves your chin, sliding up your face until he’s twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Let me show you how you should be treated. How a man would treat you.”

His proposal burns through your stomach, your eyes blinking rapidly as you breathe in deeply. You can smell the slight tinge of beer mixed with the masculine scent of cinnamon and firewood. It makes your brain dizzy, coaxing you to nod in agreement. Miguel’s hand stops playing with your hair instantly, eyes falling over your face for any sign of indecision. He doesn’t find any, but he still needs verbal confirmation. 

“You gotta tell me clearly, baby.” He urges, leaning his face close again.

He’s a millimeter away, your lips brushing against his as you say, “Please.”

Your only warning is the rumbling groan he lets out before he’s catching your lips in a searing kiss. You whine against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. You lean more into him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair. Your lips part when you feel his own hand push onto the small of your back, allowing his tongue to slip through. Both of you moan into the kiss when your tongues meet, the remains of bitter beer invading your taste buds. It should be disgusting, should remind you of all the times Gabe slobbered all over your mouth in a drunken make out, but it doesn’t. Miguel is experienced, knowing where to place his hands and where to caress with his tongue. His lips move with calculated confidence where Gabe would open and close his mouth like a fish. 

Right as your mind becomes slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, Miguel pulls away. His eyes are still trained to your lips, now plump and wet with spit. He hisses under his breath, cherishing the yelp you let out as he quickly lifts you as he stands. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, only tightening as he sets you into a bridal-style carry. His sudden display of strength makes you clench your thighs. Gabe never offered to carry you, mumbling something about not wanting his arms to get sore. But Miguel carries you like you weigh nothing, even trusting to support you with a single hand as he opens the sliding door and closes it behind the two of you. 

The loud music hits you full blast, the smell of nicotine and alcohol following. From Miguel’s arms, you can see Gabe still on the couch with his entourage of girls. Even from the distance and colored lights, you can see the redness of his cheek where you’ve slapped him. You’re quickly forgetting about him again when Miguel starts moving, carrying you up the stairs. He pauses in front of the door two away from Gabe’s. Miguel’s room. He opens it and locks it behind the two of you, depositing you on his large bed. 

It smells strongly of him, and you have to fight yourself to not breathe in deeply. His sheets feel heavenly against your skin, caressing it like silk. The mattress sinks under you slightly, cocooning your body. It sinks deeper as Miguel crawls on top of you. Your hips are caged by his knees as he kneels, arms holding him up by your head. They come to rest under your head, pulling you up to kiss you again. The two of you sink back into the bed as your tongues clash, and you squeal when Miguel flips you over so you’ve swapped positions. He chuckles against your lips, pulling away and smiling when you pout at him. 

“Shhh,” He smiles, hands sliding down to the zipper of your dress. He drags it down slowly, watching as the straps of your dress fall away and slide down your shoulders, “Let me worship you.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, blinking down at him as he pushes your dress down to reveal your bare breasts. There wasn’t any need for a bra with your dress having built in padding. You gasp when he surges forward, holding you in place with his hands on your waist as he sucks one of your boobs into his mouth. Your hands tangled into his hair, head tilting back with a moan as he licks and teasingly bites down on your nipple. One of his hands slides up to your upper back, pressing so your chest is pushed against his face. He moans around your nipple, hungrily lapping and sucking as he looks up at you. He’s entranced by the way your lips part as you moan and whine, your neck revealed to him as your face faces the ceiling. 

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, distracting himself by giving your other breast attention. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head as you tug on his hair. When he’s satisfied, he parts from your breasts with a final kiss to both of your nipples. They’re hardened and shiny with his saliva, and he’s almost tempted to go back for seconds. But he has other things in mind. You watch him as he lays flat on his back, the hand at your back returning to your waist so his other can reach under your dress. You gasp, hands planting on his chest as he rips your underwear off of you. Your eyes are wide as he brings them up to his nose, squeezing at your waist as he moans at the scent. 

He stuffs them into his pocket, both hands now planted on your waist again. He bunches your dress around your waist, looking like a goddess as all your privates are revealed to him. He picks you up, your hands gripping the headboard as he sits you on his face. The noise you let out is close to a scream as his lips instantly attack your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue is warm against your aching bud, your eyes rolling back with another loud moan when his tongue slides against your folds. You want to cry when he pulls you off his face slightly, his chin already sparkly with slick. 

“Gods baby, you’re so sensitive. Gabe never eat you out before?” He teases, but he quickly loses the smirk on his face when you whimper out a no. He rolls his eyes, mumbling out pinche imbécil before diving back into your folds. 

You can’t help bucking against his mouth, his nose beginning to nudge at the bud between your legs. He groans under you in appreciation, and you feel it throughout your whole body. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, your sounds drowning out the music from downstairs. One of your hands comes to tangle in his hair to help guide your movements, and his hands start rocking your hips to help out. He can feel you clenching against his mouth, your orgasm close. For a second he debates not letting you finish and instead making you come around his cock. But no, he isn’t greedy. He’d let you have all the orgasms you want. You deserve to be deeply satisfied and fucked out. Plus, he needs to make up for all the times his son failed to get you to your peak. 

He’s definitely happy with his choice as you fucking scream his name, back arching as you lean against the headboard. Your thighs twitch around his head, your breath heavy as you whine. Your release flows into his mouth like thick honey, and it tastes just as sweet. He can feel himself twitch in his pants again, and he holds you down to prevent you from getting up. He needs to make sure he swallows every last drop you’re giving him. Has to show you how grateful he is that you’re giving him your sweet release. When he finally lets you off, you do so on numb legs. You roll to the side, chest still heaving as he groans.

“Fuck hermosa, taste fucking divine.” Miguel praises, his body hovering over yours again. 

You whine up at him, pulling him into a shy kiss that he returns desperately. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you whimper. As he shares your taste with you, his hands finally get rid of the rest of your dress. He pulls away once it’s off, resting his forehead against yours as his hands undo his belt buckle. 

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? A fucking vision. And you’re all mine.”

Your body arches into him at his words, hands exploring the expanse of his clothed chest as he gets his pants off. His chest leaves your hands as he sits up again, rapidly undoing the buttons of his button-up and hurriedly taking it off. Both of you are naked, and his eyes get the chance to explore you as you explore him. He’s built in muscle, a little chub at his stomach that has you leaking onto his sheets. His cock hangs heavy in between his legs, unable to hold up its own weight. It makes your mouth water and you almost beg him to put it in your mouth. 

You’re distracted from your filthy fantasy when Miguel’s finger lands at the end of your throat and in between your collarbones. He slides it down, goosebumps mapping where he touched. He brings his finger down the valley between your breasts, dragging it to your stomach, and ending its journey at your clit where he taps on it gently. The whole time he holds his breath as if breathing would disturb the perfection in front of him. It makes your body sing, arching into his touch with a small noise that he soaks up. 

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back over you.

You can fill his tip rubbing between your thighs, smearing his precum on your skin. You spread your legs wider for him, and you gasp when he grabs them and pushes them up to your chest and over his shoulders. He kisses the side of your knee, eyes peering down at your face as he guides his tip to your entrance. He rubs it up and down slowly, collecting your dripping arousal and nudging at your clit until your body is jolting in sensitivity. When he brings it back to your weeping hole, it slides in with little resistance.

You moan needily as it enters you, and you clench around his tip. It makes Miguel’s mouth drop with a groan, trying to push past your tightness, “You’re so tight, loosen up for me baby.”

You try to relax your walls, but every time he slides further in, your walls clench in pleasure. It makes him chuckle, and he toys with your clit to help your efforts. It works well, and he slides in easily as he rolls your bud in circles. 

“Fuckkk, that’s it baby. Taking this cock so well.”

You whine, back arching as he bottoms out. His balls are flush against your skin, and you squirm on his cock as he begins to slide out. You gasp out when he thrusts back in, hitting against your cervix. Your hands reach above you to bury into the plush pillows, mewling as he starts building up a pace. You try to turn your head away, closing your eyes tight as you moan, but Miguel reaches down so you face him and force eye contact. Your eyes are completely dazed from pleasure, lust threatening to spill through your tears. Miguel groans at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust into you faster. Your gummy walls drag against his length, fluttering every now and then as he works you towards another orgasm. It makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he hides his face in your neck and leaves bruising marks. The way he presses into you makes him hit deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you impossibly close to climax. Your hands leave the pillows to rake down Miguel’s back with hiccuped mewls of his name as you feel your stomach burn. 

“I know, baby,” Miguel grunts, teeth clenched as his hips start stuttering. “I know, I’m right there too. Let go, I got you.”

With his reassurance and the persuasion of a few more thrusts, your body tenses. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, body arching and twitching as you come. Feeling your walls clench so tightly around him makes Miguel explode soon after, moaning out your name. He works both of you through your orgasms with shallow thrusts that slowly dwindle to a halt. He breathes heavily into your neck, groaning as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet squelch. His face hovers over yours, showering you in chaste kisses that have you letting out breathy giggles. 

Once Miguel has caught his breath he gets up, carrying you as he stands off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He places you down on the sink’s large counter top, your body shocked by the cold marble. He parts from you with a slow kiss to your lips, turning to prepare a bath for you. When the tub fills with steamy water, he picks you up again, stepping in and sitting down with you between his legs. You sigh as the water soothes your aching body. Miguel’s hands begin to massage your body, whispering small praises into your skin and leaving kisses along your neck and shoulders. The coziness of the atmosphere makes you sleepy and you try to stifle a yawn. 

Miguel smiles against your skin as he hears it, and he begins to run his fingers through your hair, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

And just like that you’re asleep.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you’re woken up with kisses along your naked shoulder. You smile before you open your eyes, turning around to meet Miguel’s face. He hums when you turn to him, pulling you against him more and kissing your cheek. You chuckle at the affection, kissing the crown of his head as you rake your hands through his hair. 

“Morning, hermosa.” He mumbles to you, eyes shining at your presence. 

“Good morning, handsome. Want some coffee?” You reply, smiling wider when Miguel nods. 

You get out of bed, grabbing Miguel’s button up from last night off the floor. You button it up just enough to cover everything, and you hear Miguel groan from the sight from his place on the bed. You giggle, promising to be quick as you leave his room. When you go downstairs, the place is still trashed from the party. You roll your eyes at the mess, feeling bad for the cleaners and already knowing you’re going to offer them help. Luckily, the kitchen is still functional and you begin to brew Miguel’s coffee. You hear footsteps approaching as you fill a mug, turning to see Gabe. 

He’s rubbing his eyes when he enters, the tell-tale expression of a hangover on his face. He pauses when he sees you, squinting as the sunlight pours from the kitchen window. 

“What are you still doing here?” He asks gruffly, eyes falling to the mug of coffee in your hands. You don’t like coffee, he only knows because you complained about it all the time when he got you one. 

You roll your eyes at his tone, setting the spoon down on the sink. You grab the mug and begin walking over to Gabe. For a moment, he thinks the coffee is for him and he begins to reach out for it. But he pauses as your hand cups his cheek mockingly and you coo at him like he's simply a toddler with an attitude.

“Now, now, Gabe. That isn't how you should treat your step-mom, is it?”

[rosiethedragongeek]

Snotlout has the most development throughout all the franchise and im so so so grateful. Dreamworks gave us this little prick of a kid and said "actuallywe are going to make him so likeable". Httyd has always been on some kevel about defying expectation and exploration and Thawfest (although apparently people dont like it) is sooo interesting to me. I rant abt it so much literally they DID that. Snotlout could so easily have been the annoying, sarcy comedic relief but hes NOT!!! Thawfest comes around and you realise, this kids not even insecure, hes just scared. Hes scared of the dad who he clearly admires so much. and thats so interesting?????? And they reiderate time and time again that Spitelout is not going to get better. Everytime we see him its a back and forth, maybe this time we'll see him redeemed! it is a kids franchise, after all! and Although apparently in the end it isnt handled very well, for the most part, he doesnt get better. Snotlout learns the lesson that he can be whatever HE wants to be, and NOT what his dad wants him to be - and he forgets it. and thats so important to me. Its not cut and dry. its NEVER been cut and dry. Yes spitelout's a bad person, but Snotlout still loves him, he still admires him, he still pines for his attention. Theres never ONE moment where he cuts him off (although I would of liked to see a final moment where he does), its constant. Stoick apologised to Hiccup, they made ammends. But Spitelout is not Stoick, and they do not have to make up. Its so importsnt to me that httyd (for the most part) never made a statement that forgiveness is neccessary because theyre family. You can tell Snotlout does not like his dads company, but wants it when he doesnt have it. Hes a character that has so much more depth than you would expect for a dreamworks kids show and it all links back together. Hes a cocky bastard -> because his dad doesnt let him show weakness. He is neglective to hookfang -> because thats all he knows. He prioritises masculinity over health and safety -> because his dad says he has to. And he never fully grows out of it, either. He still glances to see if anyone catches him crying when hes 20. He still has a big mouth and flirts with anything that moves and freezes up when they flirt back. He still pines for the approval of people he considers to be above him, but he continues to be everything that his dad isnt.

And we're given this, a treat, by the people up at dreamworks. People who clearly care about the character they are presenting here. People that werent even necessarily at the time getting positive feedback from this character. And they said, "Now that hes likeable, lets make him relateable." And they gave us the Thor Bonecrusher episode. I will never get over mlm Snotlout Jorgenson. I have to take a step back and look at these characters Ive known for all my life to the point they feel as tangible as I am myself, and I get to say, "Hes just like me." Hes queer and its wonderful. like thats canon. And theres never a MOMENT where he gets made fun of for it in universe. they make fun of him for being a simp, sure, but never for liking men? It has its flaws of course, but I can never NOT gush about how lovely httyd is. they put so much care into all of their characters (except heather 420 blaze it no one cares anyway). Idk i just. they really did everything with Snotlout huh. <3

(TLDR its 1am and I watched Not Lout yesterday)

YESSSSS YOU SAID IT EXACTLY

He has such significant character development across so much time, like he starts out as this very insecure, cocky bully, and we get to see him change into a mature, caring leader and a good friend and it’s????? Totally believable?? We watch him go on this incredible journey and grow up so much. Even the episodes he doesn’t change in (like big man on berk) expand on the different sides of his character that we don’t always get to see. They have so much time to expand on him and let him grow and they do and I literally love him so much, he was handled so well in the shows.

(noooo bc I feel that)

[odos-bucket]

More Protective!Batdad Fic, With the Pretense that this is a Series Mostly Given Up

They’re returning to the cave after Robin’s first night out since the start of Tim’s parents’ most recent stay in the city. It had been a routine patrol, made noteworthy only by the return of the boy wonder. They’d gotten into a bit of a scuffle with some muggers towards the end of the night, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle, and they had both come away from it unharmed. At least that was what Bruce thought at the time. And he paid pretty close attention to things.

But when the domino mask comes off he can clearly see where Tim has a black eye, and a bruise blooming over his cheek.

“What happened?” He leaves his cowl and gloves on the computer, and takes a few steps closer to where Tim is fishing his civilian clothes out of a bag.

“Huh?” Tim bunches up the shirt he’s holding into a fist, and his eyes dart around for a moment without settling on Bruce. “Oh.” Fingers of his free hand fly up to hover over his injured cheek. “Thief got in a lucky shot.” His voice is a fraction of an octave higher than usual.

Bruce’s eyes automatically narrow as he begins his mental recall of the events that had transpired less than twenty minutes prior.

“I didn’t see you get hit,” he says slowly.

Tim just shrugs.

The bruise is too dark to be less than half an hour old anyway. It had to have come from sometime earlier in the day. It had been hidden beneath the mask though, and they’d both already been in full costume when they’d met earlier that evening.

Before Bruce can say anything else, Tim is ducking into a private alcove to finish getting changed. He’s a bit slower at it than usual, and Bruce wonders if that could be indicative of other hidden injuries, or if Tim is just drawing it out to avoid further scrutiny. Several minutes go by, and he finally clears his throat.

“Tim?”

“Just a second.” The words come out quickly.

Bruce goes to change himself, only to find that Tim still isn’t out by the time he’s finished and returned. He knocks gently on the wall that’s partitioning off the section of the cave where he’s changing, and hears a soft startled gasp, before Tim’s scurrying out.

“Yep! Sorry! Sorry! Just a little spaced.”

“Tim.” Bruce hopes his voice sounds gentle. “What happened?”

“What do you mean? I told you-“

“Don’t lie to me. That didn’t come from just now.” Bruce pauses and sighs. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Tim shakes his head.

“I won’t tolerate you hiding injuries from me.”

“I’m not.”

They stand looking at each other for several drawn out, silent seconds.

“Were you patrolling on your own?” Bruce asks after a minute. “I’m going to find out if you-“

“No.” Tim sounds even less like his normal self when he cuts in. “I promise I wasn’t.”

“All right. So what is it? Did something happen during the day?”

As much as Bruce wants to know about it if Tim’s getting into fights at school, or somewhere else, he recognizes that it may not be his place to intervene if this wasn’t vigilante related. That’s fine (at least so he tells himself) but he’d like assurance that someone’s looking out for his Robin.

“Is it something you can handle with your parents?” He tries.

Tim’s eyes widen for half a second, and then he bursts into tears.

Bruce briefly freezes, before returning to himself and rushing to Tim’s side.

“I’m so stupid,” Tim is muttering, barely discernibly. “I’m sorry. I was so stupid.” The words barely come out between bouts of gasping, shuddering sobs.

Bruce wants to beg him to tell him what happened, but settles for reaching out a careful arm, and slowly pulling him close. Tim freezes for a fraction of a second, before melting into his side, continuing to mumbled unintelligibly.

“It’s all right,” Bruce tries to sooth, very aware that he doesn’t really have the voice for that sort of thing. “You’re okay.” He desperately wishes that he could offer some more specific reassurances, but he still doesn’t know what’s going on. “I’ve got you,” he settles for, running a hand through Tim’s hair.

They stay like that for a while, Tim crying, and apologizing, and Bruce telling him it’s okay, and wishing he could be sure that it was true. Eventually the tears dry up, and the breathing evens out, and the tense body beside his goes limp with exhaustion. Bruce doesn’t let go, not until he feels Tim starting to shift around restlessly. And even then he stays close enough to be easily collapsed into again, should the need arise.

“I messed up,” Tim says, after a few false starts.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it.” A ridiculous promise, and one that Bruce normally wouldn’t be making without more information. But somehow- without Bruce meaning to allow him to- Tim has joined the narrow ranks of those capable of inducing him to speak or behave a-procedurally.

Tim shakes his head.

“Tim, I want to help, but you have to give me something to work with.”

Tim is too focused on keeping his eyes dry, and his breathing steady to respond.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Bruce forces himself to offer, forces himself to remember that this child isn’t his, doesn’t need him the way the other robins did.

Another sob escapes Tim, and he buries his face in his hands. There’s a pang in Bruce’s chest as he realizes what he has to ask next.

“Did something happen at home?”

The question is met with heavy breathing, followed by a drawn out silence, and then, finally, a slow nod.

Bruce forces down his rising anger, as Tim finally gathers himself to speak.

“I don’t know if they want me to go back.” It comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Dad was so mad at me.”

Fury coils in Bruce’s gut, and lies in wait for his next question to be answered.

“Did he do this?” He gestures to the black eye.

“It’s never happened before,” Tim rushes to say. “Nothing like this ever has.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Bruce practically growls. Tim, to his credit, seems entirely unaffected by the intensity of the tone.

“I started it,” he says.

“… There’s no way that’s true.”

“Bruce,” Tim chokes out, leaning back into him.

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Bruce pulls him close like he could absorb Tim into himself, like if he holds him tightly enough he can keep him safe- as if he’s actually capable of keeping any child safe. This will never happen again, he wants to say, I won’t let it. His mind is racing. He doesn’t want to let Tim back into that house, doesn’t want to let him out of his sight really. He’s never been able to fathom how the Drakes can have this selfless, determined, brilliant child in their care, and be so willing to spend all their time away from him. He’s been wary of them from the beginning. But he never imagined that they could pose this kind of danger to their son.

“This is so stupid,” Tim grumbles into Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce can’t disagree, though he’s a little worried that they aren’t on the same page about what exactly that means.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tim continues after a minute. “I thought- I thought things were going well!”

“Telling me was the right thing to do,” Bruce says quickly. “If somebody’s hurting you- no matter who it is-“

“That isn’t what I mean.” He takes a deep breath, and leans back a little bit.

Bruce watches patiently, as Tim calms his nerves, and steadies himself.

“I… told Mom and Dad about Connor,” he breathes. “Not the alien clone thing, obviously. But, I told them that I was seeing someone- a guy- and I don’t even know why I did it! In the back of my head I knew there was no way it was going to go over well. I knew that. I was just, I don’t know, feeling happy, and okay for the first time in a while. So I thought-“ He shakes his head. “I mean I didn’t think; that was the problem. And Mom reacted the way I knew she- the way I should have known she would. And I got mad, and I started yelling at her, and Dad, when I yelled at her, Dad, that’s when he- he…”

Bruce’s heart breaks. It’s not like he’d imagined that Jack Drake would have a good reason for lashing out at his son, but this was nothing.

“I’m still not hearing anything that you did wrong.” He forces himself to stay calm.

“Trying to come out to them was dumb! I didn’t need to do it. They were leaving soon anyways, it shouldn’t have mattered!”

“No. They shouldn’t have hurt you,” Bruce says fiercely. “This is part of who you are, so it should always matter. It’s not stupid to assume that people who are supposed to care about you would want to know more about what’s going on in your life. Tim, you did nothing wrong.”

He runs a hand up and down his back, like he’d done when Dick had nightmares as a child.

Tim glances at him out of the glassy corner of his eye, and scrubs his hands roughly over his face, before mumbling something that Bruce doesn’t catch.

He waits for a beat, before quietly asking if Tim will repeat himself.

“They don’t want me coming around here anymore,” he says more clearly, voice suddenly empty. “They- they saw that interview you did a couple years back, where you came out as bisexual.” His face is tinged pink, ashamed to even be repeating his parent’s words. “So they think that I, I don’t know, caught it from you, like it’s contagious or something. But I didn’t know where else to go! And I- I don’t want to give this up…“ He gestures broadly to the cave around them as hiccuping breaths overpower his speech.

Bruce just holds on as Tim continues to cry, softly repeating that he didn’t do anything wrong, carefully keeping the furious voice raging, ‘those bastards won’t take you away from me,’ under wraps. He doesn’t let himself think about every other instance of his sexuality being cited as a factor making him an unsuitable guardian that he’s committed to precise memory, the vicious arguments that his children should be taken away from him, the fact that if he hadn’t been born so lucky in so many other ways they might have been. Tim doesn’t need him to be angry, Tim needs him to be smart.

They wait out the tears again, until they’re not falling so heavily, and Tim is shuddering occasionally, rather than continuously, and can compose himself enough to speak.

“I didn’t mean to dump all this on you,” he says once he’s mostly calmed down.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Bruce threads his fingers through locks of lightly tangled hair. “I’m so glad you told me what happened. You’re going to stay here tonight, okay?”

Tim is with them often enough when his parents aren’t around that they already have a room made up for him, a room which after less than a year has come to show more evidence of his personality than his bedroom at the Drake’s mansion.

Tim nods.

“Thank you.”

Bruce squeezes his shoulder.

“Do you still have pajamas here? Or do you need to borrow a pair of Dick’s?”

It’s something easy in a moment where everything feels impossibly difficult.

“I brought them with me when I went home.” His breath catches on the last word, and it only half comes out.

“That’s all right. Dick won’t mind.”

Now it’s just a matter of getting themselves upstairs. There will be more to worry about tomorrow, much more, and it will undoubtedly only increase in the days that follow. Bruce will have to figure out whether or not Jack and Janet Drake are looking for their son, and he can’t quite decide which the worse option is at this point. He’ll also need to make sure he understands what exactly is within his power to do to keep Tim safe. Bruce stops himself before he can begin preparing for the future too obsessively. He brings himself back to the present moment, stairs, pajamas, bed, all very manageable tasks.

He just really doesn’t want to let go of the child in his arms. The realization that Tim might need him more than he thought is overpowering, making him feel violently protective, and a little bit terrified.

Some of the strain of the moment breaks when Tim uses the side of Bruce’s arm to stifle a yawn, but it’s still a little while longer before they’re ready to head upstairs.

When they do, Tim wanders up to his room, where Bruce hopes he’ll find easy rest. He stays awake and finds Alfred. There’s a lot they need to talk about.

[bandgeek4life8]

Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL HERE]}| "

I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one."  I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic

[wyomwyom]

27 years old letter

Find it on ao3 here

Dadspy sprinkled with some Sniperspy

Edited by: @radiostaticc

Sniper was of course not the biggest fan for loud parties, but the kid is now 30, which he guess would make Scout not really a kid anymore, but who cares? He was the kid among them and shall stay forever. The little ankle biter who loved loud noises way too much, while alcohol not at all.

While most of the others were having fun being as drunk as one can get, Scout was at the table of gifts with his can of Bonk. Maybe it was how he sometimes did the same things, or maybe he spent too much time with his boyfriend, Spy. But Sniper noticed nervous movements on the Scout. Adjusting his clothes, like they never fit right; drumming on the can with one finger; briefly hugging himself with one arm. The kid was nervous to the brim and Sniper seemingly being the only one to notice, he decided to do something about it.

He walked up to Scout and put a hand on his shoulder, before greeting him, starting simple and kind.

"Staying out of the party? Your age is catching up to you kid?" he joked with a chuckle, relieved to see the other smile from it, but it didn't last long "What's wrong Scout?" he asked, low so it won't cause attention and not hide his worry. The fast runner got more nervous from the question. Chewing on his lips, looking around in fear that anyone else noticed, before giving in with a sigh.

"Can we go to one of your nests? I need air and privacy." he admitted.

"Sure kid, and don't worry. From the look of it, nobody will notice." Sniper said as they walked towards the front door of the base.

"Dear Jeremy,

When they reached the nest, Sniper gave the other time to say the problem. He was known for his patience and not many questions. So he waited. He watched as Scout finished his can of Bonk, tapped his foot on the wooden surface of the nest while getting his thoughts together and he waited as the problem was taken out.

Scout took out an envelope folded in half, looked at it for a little, before holding out for Sniper.

"My mom gave me this when I left home. Said dad wrote it to me when he left and I can read it when I turn 30. Problem is... I-I can't read. Doc said it's a normal dyswhat-the-hell. But I'm sure my da' didn’t know it was a thing I have when he wrote it. And just-"

"Would you like if I read it to ya?" Sniper cut in gently, grabbing the letter, but not yet taking it. Not until Scout released it and nodded as a silent answer. The envelope was already opened, so Sniper just had to take out the letter, unfold it and read it:

You're now old enough to maturely hear what I'm about to say. And old enough to be the age I was when I left you, your brothers, and your mother. I wanted you to have this letter at this age, so you can know how young and stupid a man can be in the age of 30. I also hope that you won't make the same mistakes by reading this and learning from mine.

When I met your mother and she boldly came up to talk to me, I knew that if a nobody like me can fall in love and not be alone in the feeling, then I should never let it go. But then I had to.

She never judged me and I never judged her for anything. She loved me the same way when I had to disappear for long times and I loved her the same way when she introduced me to her 7 sons.

Now before I say the next thing, I want you to know that you are not and never were the reason why I left you and your family. You were the brightest light in my life and still are, no matter where life takes us both.

These almost three years I could spend with you mean so much to me and it hurts so much that I had to leave. But my love for your family and you blinded me about how dangerous a job I actually had that put the bread on the table for the ten of us. I knew the moment when I received a letter with only your name on it, that I had to leave. I don't expect you to understand, or accept my choice. But I wanted nothing more than you to be safe. I made the worst choices in life, but loving my family was not something I could control. Your mother is the strongest woman this world has seen, so I know I'm going to leave you in good hands. She will protect and care for you, like I never could.

You can trust her in anything. I know, because I'm trusting her to keep the things she knows about me secret and give this letter to you when she knows it's time to face the truth of whatever lie she came up with. The truth of which is that I left to protect you and I still will always be with you. In the crowds, in the background, maybe even right next to you.

I'm going to do my best to keep you as close, but still as far to make sure you're safe and happy. Because that's what you deserve. You can say I'm an asshole and a coward, which you are right about. I was a coward for choosing running instead of fighting, but I know at this moment of writing this in your room, that I'm making a mistake. So I want you to learn from it. Love is the most dangerous thing a man can face and if you ever find it, please fight for it. Fight for the person, or people you love and they will fight for you if they're the right people for you. I didn't fight enough for you and your family. Which is why I could never ask for your forgiveness. All I can ask for is for you to never give up and know that you deserve to be loved.

Happy birthday Jeremy

With all the love from your dad"

Sniper had his own small pain in his chest by the time he finished, but it was nothing compared to the sobs he heard and saw when he looked up. He put the letter to the side and moved closer to hold the kid in a tight embrace. He was never a fancy pants, he couldn’t give two shits about Scout ruining his clothes, so he pulled the sobbing man close to his chest and let him cry his heart out. He deserved it. Even if Scout read, he couldn't imagine being alone after such a letter like this.

"Th-ank y-ou..." the boy hiccuped, before burying his face into the red shirt, trying to take deep breaths after feeling a hand caressing his back. "Freak-king asshole dad..." he tried to talk again with a little chuckle, but couldn't say more. So he leant his head against Sniper comfortably, the crying slowly calming down and soft snores taking its place.

With one hand, the sharpshooter put the letter back into the envelope and put it into his pocket before lifting up the kid bridal-style and carefully carried him down. He was happy to discover that the base was now quiet. Inside some retreated into their rooms, while others were sleeping in the living room. He walked towards Scout's room, pretending he didn't hear the extra pair of shoes failing to walk silently after them. After putting the kid into his bed, he put the envelope on the bedside table.

"Happy Birthday Scout." he whispered a last time, before leaving the room, closing the door after himself. "Come 'ere Spook." he said to the air, opening his arms.

"Merde." Spy whispered annoyedly for being found out, but still uncloaked and leaned into his partner's arms. "Bushman, I-'' he started worriedly, but got cut off by a kiss on his head

"I know Spook, I know. I love you too. You won't get away from me that easily." he comforted with a chuckle

"Liar..." Spy said, knowing Sniper too well to believe that anxiety is not eating him up about the letter and what he said about Scout's mom in it. He heard a sigh, before his head was lifted, so his lips could receive a gentle kiss.

"What if you take me to bed and show me just how much you love me then?"

"Sounds good, mon chasseur."

[secret-engima]

Team Gremlin verse: The Reunion

(So this is ... a very rough draft so to speak of what I wanna do for the reunion scene with Oscar and Ozpin. I’m not dubbing it ‘canon’ yet because I’d have to wait for the actual fic to catch up and then tweak accordingly but so far- this is what is in my head and I figured I should let others enjoy the angst :D)

...

     Ozpin slipped away from the crowd exiting the tent with a pounding heart. He could feel his fingers shake on the hilt of Long Memory as he managed to duck into the shadows outside the large emerald and gold tent. He had found him. All this time searching, all this time praying and hoping and looking only to be too late and he had found him. He had sat in the stands and seen the boy in action, heard the music and seen the magic both fake and real, and felt the sheer energy and joy the little Ringmaster felt in his performance like lightning in Ozpin’s own bones. And then- the song. The final song. Because Oscar always rounded off with a song, ones not meant for spectacle, but instead for the heart. A sincere wish and message for those fortunate to sit beneath the ceiling of the Emerald City for the night.

     The song alone could have brought him to tears. But to hear it sung by the little boy in the ring, the impossible, wonderful, miracle child who had every right to lash out at the world in hate, yet instead chose to fill it with wonders … it had been all he could do to keep from crying with there in the stands. To not try to climb down the makeshift seating and into the ring because all he’d wanted was to hold him.

     His son. The son he had never seen outside of grainy photos and shaky recordings, who he had tried desperately to find the more he learned what the child had lived through. And now Ozpin had found him. Now Ozpin had a chance to meet him. He just had to get backstage.

     It wasn’t hard to escape the eyes of the crowd, and it wasn’t much more difficult to slip through the shadows to the little ring of emerald tents set up behind the big top, the tents where the various performers of the rare and popular Emerald City act stayed. He hesitated on the boundary, trying to pick out which one of the colorful, green-themed tents belonged to the Ringmaster ���his son, his child that he had never gotten to meet, would never have known about save a series of accidents—. He heard laughter and activity behind him, the performers returning to their temporary homes, and he ducked forward into the shadows of a tent at random. They would run him off if they found him, he was certain of that. He was a stranger to them at best, or worse, a known player in the war that had created the boy he hoped to meet, that had no doubt hurt many of those who followed him —such as Hazel, and how the man had ever been swayed from Salem’s promise of revenge, Ozpin could not fathom but did not want to test—.

     He heard no activity from the tent he was hiding behind, and while the air whispered with hints of magic, it wasn’t coming from this tent, so he moved on to another. This time, he dared peak into the tent flap, but saw nothing but the vague shadows of personal belongings. No sign of the little Ringmaster —his son, his child—.

     Ozpin backed away from that tent, heart drumming anxiously in his chest. Then he turned and froze.

     The massive Grimm, the strange one that Qrow called Hound. The monster that for some reason Ozpin never wanted to contemplate —but had spent many hours doing just that— followed his son everywhere. Behaved like it was tame and natural rather than a creature of Darkness that longed only for destruction. It stood just a few feet away, so large it’s head was even with Ozpin’s chin as it watched him with flat, glowing red lights for eyes.

     His fingers tightened on the hilt of Long Memory, lifetimes of instinct screaming to raise his weapon and attack first before it could kill him or anyone else here. But he had seen recordings of this same Grimm, dressed up in ridiculous costumes to hide its true nature from unpracticed eyes, parading around in the circus ring like a big dog. He had seen his son ride on its back and balance on its head and Qrow had recounted more than one instance of Oscar and the other children escaping on its back. It hadn’t been present for this particular show, but he had seen multiple recordings of previous ones where it entered the ring and no one had been harmed. Of course, Ozpin’s son —Salem’s son, for all the second half of that coin tore at his guts— had been close by all those times, but here there was no one in sight but the two of them.

     The Grimm tilted its head slowly to one side, a ragged ear pricking like an actual dog’s. It wasn’t attacking. Even though Ozpin knew he must stink of so many different types of fear he could attract an entire pack of Beowolves all on his own. It just … studied him.

     Slowly, it’s jaws opened, and Ozpin prepared to dodge some attack. Instead, the large, blood red tongue slid out from between massive teeth and lolled there, a slow, thoughtful trio of pants before it licked its teeth and shut its jaws again. Without any further reaction, it lowered its head and turned away, walking slow and ponderously toward one of the tents that had light peaking through the bottom. Ozpin watched it leave with a blank, confused mind, then startled when it stopped and twisted around to look over its shoulder at him.

     It looked like it was waiting.

     It looked like it wanted him to follow.

     Inhaling raggedly —this was the stupidest thing he had done in lifetimes he was sure—, Ozpin started following in the Grimm’s footsteps.

     It led him to the tent farthest from the bigtop, nudged open the flap with something like practiced ease, and shouldered its way in. Ozpin lingered outside, suddenly too afraid to go a step further. There was a Grimm in there, but somehow, the realization that his son might be in there was even more terrifying than that. If he stood out here too long, he would be caught, he knew that, and yet…

     “Hey, Sondor,” murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpin’s world crystalized, “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.” A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and … oddly content sounding. The voice —a child’s voice, a gentle voice, a voice he’d just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteries— laughed faintly, “Checking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.”

     If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice —his son— finished saying, “We’ll be sure to take long naps in the morning.”

     Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magician’s trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didn’t matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.

     His child.

     The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise he’d never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, “Hey Neo, you’re back early. I thought you were still scoping … out…” he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face —he looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?— went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldn’t feel it.

     It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldn’t know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him —from Salem herself even—. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boy’s living space without warning or invitation.

     Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones he’d longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, “Hello, I’m Professor Ozpin-.”

     A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe-.

     Had he really said-?

     A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpin’s mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldn’t have heard that right. He couldn’t have heard…

     “Dad.”

     The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, “I’m here.” He choked out, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m right … I’m right here.”

     Magic pressed against his skin, burrowed into his soul, needy and desperate and fearful in a way his daughters’ had never been until the very end —until the moment his shield broke and he could no longer protect them—. It begged him and Ozpin forgot about everything else, forgot every other concern or person in the world as he let his own magic unspool and twine with the younger, needy magic begging him for comfort. Behind his closed eyelids he could see it, the colors spinning and twisting in the space between their souls. His ever-dwindling green wrapping around a younger, deeper, stronger wellspring of emerald laced with snapping red, whispering black and dancing flickers of purple, gold, blue, and white.

     The younger magic coiled tightly in his, desperate and pained, crying in relief and fear just as loudly as the sobs that shook his son’s body. It was open to him, painfully open and raw, trusting despite how this boy had every reason to fear another’s magic. In the breath between crying and comforting and accepting, Ozpin’s magic brushed up against what could only be called a crack in his child’s soul. A jagged old wound that had never properly healed. Glass sharp and weeping and-.

     Pain-pain-pain-fear-fear-please-pleasedon’tleavedon’tleaveme-.

     Magic, green and old, bodiless and desperate and half-mad with agony sinking inside and locking in place in a message that screamed all the way down to bone marrow and soul fiber.

    Mine-my-child-I-love-you-I-loveyoumychildmy-

     “Oscar.” Ozpin choked out, struggling to shake off the remnants of memory hidden in soul shards and old wounds. Realization reeled, pulled at the fabric of reality beneath his feet. “Oscar,” he repeated, rolling the name of his son over his tongue and wondering at the sensation of right, of familiarity even though he had never met this child before. He had, of course, known his name. The boy made a little joke of it at the beginning of all his performances, but now the name had weight. Had an echo of knowledge to it that he couldn’t quite grasp.

     Even though, somehow, his son knew him. And perhaps that should terrify him. Because his son was a child still, yet somewhere in the spaces between incarnations, or in the moments between life and death and dreams, his child remembered him and clung to a message of love even though it had been tangled up in so much pain.

     “I tried,” Oscar sobbed into his chest, “I tried, I’m- I’m so sorry-.”

     Ozpin hushed him, ran shaking fingers through his son’s hair and ignored the way his glasses had completely blurred over from the tears they caught, “I know. It’s alright. You’re alright. You’re alive, Oscar.” He guided his son’s face to his scarf and pressed his cheek against the top of Oscar’s head, “You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.” He inhaled raggedly and set aside the spinning theories trying to take root, the odd mix of age-youth-age and time-turned-back in Oscar’s magic that made him wonder. He had long assumed that Oscar’s aging was … strange, a byproduct of being the child of two immortals. Yet feeling Oscar’s magic, the soft echo of bells and clockwork gears hidden inside it, he couldn’t help but remember that gravity and its magic was an aspect of space and space was a partner of time. There had been spells that toyed with time long ago that left impressions on the souls that used them, though never on such a large scale as what Ozpin was contemplating.

     But if anyone could reinvent a way to turn back the hands of the world’s clock, it would be the child of Ozma and Salem, surely —had his son known a previous incarnation, or had his son met Ozpin himself in the future, had he lived a prisoner of Salem until he was a teen or even an adult, only meeting his father to see him die in agony at his mother’s hands, had a single dying message of love amid a lifetime of darkness truly been enough to make him fight time itself to make things right—.

     But that didn’t matter right now.

     He was here. Oscar was here. They were both alive and safe and his little boy was tucked trustingly in his arms, and that was what mattered right now. It mattered more than anything else in the world.

     “I love you, Oscar,” he whispered into his son’s hair as he rocked them back and forth, uncaring of his jacket and scarf becoming soaked with tears, or the way Oscar’s magic coiled around his soul so tightly it was almost burning, “I love you. I’m here.”

     “I missed you,” Oscar choked out between sobs, another piece to Ozpin’s puzzle set aside for later times, “I love y-you t-too.” A hiccup, loud and ugly, a shiver in Ozpin’s arms, “Don’t go.”

     “I won’t,” Ozpin promised, hand cradling the back of Oscar’s head, trying to shield him from the nightmares he could sense lurking within, “I won’t go. I’m right here.” He exhaled wetly, “I’m right here.”

[imaginesmai]

With all my heart (IRONDAD) - Chapter 1

Hey there! I’m back with a full fic! ❤💕💕💕 This is an irondad/bambi/The game plan AU! It’s finished, so it will have two updates every week, or more (if you guys like it a lot!) Make sure to follow me on instagram:@ irondadiscanon to know when I update, more irondad content and fic recs!

SUMMARY: Tony Stark isn't the best dad - distant, cold, almost neglectful. But when his ex-wife dies, he has to take care of his son; 5-year-old Peter, a boy with too many allergies and that can't talk to Tony without stuttering. Follow the path of two hurt people, a man and a boy, who learn how to love each other through thick and thin.-A Bambi AU (Disney) that @buckets_of_stars inspired me into writting that I've mixed with The Game Plan.

AO3 link

Tony has a tight smile on during the funeral. He knows he has no right being there, that most of the people around him, even if they are strangers for Tony, were closer to Mary than him. He shifts uncomfortable in his black suit, fighting the hangover from last night. On his right, Mary’s sister is crying her eyes out, looking at the coffin as its lowered on the ground. From what he has heard, the man besides May is Ben, his husband, and both of them have made a long journey to come to the funeral. It makes him feel bad, because Tony was the one arriving late and he lives barely thirty minutes away.

 But the news hit him hard. 

For six years, he has been doing just fine. He gets drunk, sleeps around with anyone that catches his eye, bosses around and goes to sleep really, really late. It’s not something to take pride of, but Tony likes his life – now, his past life. There is another thing that has been a constant for the last five years and a half; monthly cheques to his ex-girlfriend account. Since he lost any type of right over his son. Five and half years ago.

 Now, Mary is lying eight foot deep in a coffin. He received a call yesterday, and found comfort in his liquor cabinet. He shouldn’t have, he’s sure of it, because he knows that there has to be new changes on his life from now on; but he still kept a small place of his heart for the brunette girl with big, doe eyes that had a contagious laugh. Tony tightens the grip on his left wrist, trying to control the shaking of his hands. 

When that doesn’t work, he tries next looking at the small figure gripping May’s legs, close to Tony. It’s not the first time Tony has seen Peter Parker, because once or twice every two months, he gets to spend a weekend with his son. He has a room on the tower, as dull as a white paper, and Tony is listed as his second emergency contact. It doesn’t matter how much he tries to distance himself from Howard. Most of the times the kid is with him, Tony is reminded of the lost chance of raising him. Peter sees him as a stranger, and Tony drinks.

 Peter sniffles softly, and May runs a careful hand through his curls. Taking after Tony, he’s short and skinny. The father doesn’t know much about him – that he likes science, is asthmatic and has a list of allergies, dyslexic, and his favourite colour is blue and red. Mary made sure to keep him away from Tony, and she wasn’t wrong. Because Tony is the worst influence the kid can have.

 It doesn’t matter, though, because May and Ben are both active workers that are barely home, and Peter doesn’t have any other family left.

 “Tony”

 He turns around, and shamefully discovers that almost everyone is gone now. Only May, the priest and Peter remain. The last one is still hiding between May’s legs, hiccupping every now and then. Tony blinks and coughs the awkwardness; he tries to clear the wetness around his eyes, and thanks himself for getting dark glasses before leaving that morning. May, always the kind woman, gives him a soft smile, and squeezes his forearm gently. His husband doesn’t like Tony that much, but it seems that May sees something not even Tony himself can see.

 “We have to arrange some things. Custody papers and legal documents” she says.

 “Yes. I’ll – My driver is just there. He will take us to the notary. He has enough space for all of us. And don’t worry, Happy is discrete. He won’t – “

 “Ben and I can take care of it just fine” May interrupts him. He pushes Peter forward, but the boy doesn’t look up. “Peter hasn’t slept much, and he hasn’t eaten since yesterday. I thought that, maybe, you could take him home and rest a little. It’s been hard for everyone.”

 “Happy can take him”

 “Peter needs his father”

 It’s her stern voice. He has only heard it twice; once, when Peter was born and he was late for the birth, and Mary decided she didn’t even want him to meet his son. May had used her stern voice on her and Tony had held Peter close, as the boy latched on his little finger. The second time was directed at him. He was ready to give up the custody of Peter, he didn’t want to go to the trial; and thanks to May, who dragged him out of his ear, he got to see Peter every two months. Even if he hadn’t known how to do it right.

 Peter looks up at Tony, and the man notices the tears still falling from his eyes. He has the same look he always carries around Tony; as if he wasn’t his father, just an authoritative stranger that he had to respect.

 “I think a nap will do you some good” Tony lowers his voice, and tries to give Peter a reassuring smile. “Did you pack your bag already?”

 “No” he answers in a small voice. “Uncle Ben said I c-could do it later”

 “We can bring it later. Maybe have a last dinner together before we leave?” May suggests, and Peter nods vigorously. “We have to leave tomorrow morning. But we are only a few hours away. If he gets sick or needs anything, we’ll be here as soon as possible. And that goes for you too Tony. You can call me anytime you want”

 “I think we’re gonna be just fine. Right, Peter?”

 Tony holds his fist so that Peter can bump it, but the kid just stares at it. Possibly, it’s not the best place to do something like that. Reluctantly, he lowers his fist. He remembers the first time Peter was brought to him as a conscious human being, not a baby. Mary had been on a trip with him for three months, and Tony got to stay with Peter for a week – and in that moment, when Peter didn’t call Tony daddy but ‘Mr Tony’, Tony realized that Peter didn’t see him as a father. As a dad.

 It hurts him that he hasn’t known how to be there for his son. Some of the dates Mary and him set for Peter to stay with Tony were spent poorly; Tony out drinking and Peter with Pepper or with a nanny. Tony missed some of them because he liked to party, and the man wasn’t there when the kid had his first asthma attack and ended up in hospital. He wasn’t even there for Peter’s fourth birthday, because he was lost somewhere in Monaco drinking expensive liquors and losing consciousness.

 Selfishly, he thinks that this is his chance to make things right. Peter has to stay with him, because there is no chance that he lets the boy in the system, and staying with his aunt is impossible. So, he tries to bury his hurt and keeps the kind smile on.

 “Give me a call when you’re finished” he tells May, who nods. The woman kneels in front of Peter, and cradles his cheek.

 “We can come whenever you need us. Ask Tony to call us or use the phone mom got you, it’s in the bottom of your bag. You remember Ben’s number?” May asks. Peter doesn’t answer. “Come here, give me a big hug”

 Peter launches himself to his aunt’s arms, letting out a chocked sob. May hugs him tight and lets him cry on her shoulder. As most of the times he’s with his son, Tony feels misplaced. Like he’s watching a show he’s not a part of – like it isn’t his family. It’s not, his mind supplies. They break the hug before Tony can dwell on the thought for too long. If someone expected Peter to hug his father next, they get a huge disappointment. Peter moves to stand close to Tony, and quickly dries his tears so Tony doesn’t notice them.

 “No peanuts, walnuts, cashews or hazels. That goes for Nutella or other chocolate sweet that could have hazels” May remembers him, although Tony has JARVIS programmed to keep up with Peter’s allergies. “There are epinephrine injections in his bag, with the instructions. He has to take his vitamins every morning. After breakfast”

 “And I have to be careful with lobsters and oysters, because they upset his stomach”

 “You have to cut the crust off the sandwiches, and Peter doesn’t like cheese sandwiches. But make sure to put extra cheese on his pizza”

 “He also likes mac and cheese, I know” Tony says with a bit of annoyance. “He’s my son. I know him better than what you think”

 “You better take care of him, because I don’t care how much money you have or how important your last name is” May takes a threatening step forward. “If I have to drag your sorry Stark ass to court, I will. Without blinking once”

 Tony briefly remembers the conversation he has had with May before the funeral. Mary said it in her will, Ben and May knew they would have to change their life style if Peter came to life with them, and Tony was the most capable person, in materials and financial terms, to take care of Peter. But still, she had offered to take him. And Ben had threatened Tony. The man hopes he can live to everyone’s expectations.

 He reaches a hand and brings Peter closer. In a soft whisper that only comes out every now and then when he’s with his son, he tells him to go and wait in the car. Peter gives a quiet ‘yes sir’ and hugs May one last time. Tony doesn’t miss the glassy eyes May gets when Peter wraps his skinny arms around her waist and squeezes her tight. He has never received a hug from Peter.

 Not like he feels worthy of them.

 Peter waves at her and drags his feet to the car. The boy likes Happy, or at least he likes him as much as he can like someone from Tony’s life – he gives the man some rare smiles and actually answers to his questions. He watches as Peter disappear inside the car, and closes the door behind him. Then, he turns to May.

 “You can’t say those things in front of Peter” he argues. “He’s gonna think I’m some kind of monster that it’s gonna eat him at night”

 “He already thinks that. Why do you think he wanted to spend the night with us in the hotel instead of going with you? Peter is afraid. The only memories he has with his father are you sitting on a couch drinking, hiding in the lab or giving him away to nannies” May points a shaky finger at him. “He spent the whole night crying and sobbing, but when he comes here, he tries to hide it so you don’t see him. Trust me when I say he knows where he’s going”

 “And what am I supposed to do? If he hates me so much, then maybe you should take him!”

 There is a second of silence in the lonely cemetery.

 “Peter doesn’t hate you, Tony. He thinks you don’t want him” she says sadly, and Tony thinks he preferred the idea of Peter hating him. “All he knows is a cold man with a hard face, that didn’t make an effort to love him when he went to see you”

 “I really don’t know how to fix that, May” he admits. He realises his own eyes are getting misty behind the glasses, but he doesn’t feel strong enough to wipe them. He only wants to go back home and lock himself in the lab with a bottle of whisky, maybe two.

 “You and I both know you love him. You did things wrong, but so did Mary. So just – show him you love him, now. Consider this your chance to be a father to Peter, a real father”

 May surprises Tony by dragging him into her arms, and he goes rigid. He doesn’t like behind handed things, he doesn’t like shaking people’s hands, he doesn’t like touching anyone and doesn’t like being touched unless it’s Pepper. He has ignored Rhodey’s calls and Happy attempt to comfort him, because he knew that no matter how much he hated physical touch, he would break down.

 So, Tony breaks down in sobs, and hugs May Parker back. The woman is tall but skinny, yet is almost as strong as Tony. It’s the touch he needs, because it manages to keep him together. Tony thinks of Mary, of how beautiful everything was before he fucked up and she left, pregnant without knowing. He thinks of her sweet smile and dimples, of her brown curls that fell loose on her back. And he sees her in the boy in the car, in the way he pretends to be collected but wears his heart on his sleeve.

 A raindrop hit him on the nose, and when he looks up, he’s met with another on his left glass. He tears away from May who doesn’t bother wiping the tears away from her cheeks. They share a short nod and a few words, then Tony walks towards the car. He tries to make the small distance to it as long as possible, because he doesn’t want to meet the doe, bambi eyes that will stare at him in the car.

 Because Peter does that a lot – staring at Tony. Not talking, not smiling. Staring at Tony as if he’s looking for something that he doesn’t have. That’s part of the reason why he avoids the boy so much, because if he can’t be what Peter needs, then what good can he make?

 Apparently, he’s about to find out.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[hey-there-juliet]

Random Drabble Day (2/23)

Summary: First off, let me just say that this is more like a one-shot than a drabble because I'm a wordy bitch and I cannot control myself 😅

That said, I always had a hard time imagining Julie writing some of the Perfect Harmony's lyrics about herself, so I thought why not make this just another song that Luke and Julie wrote together? This is set somewhere between Finally Free and Edge of Great, in that week when Ray was stress-eating. This is supposed to fit back into the show at the end, so it might seem like a cliffhanger, but it's not.

Quick shout out to @jamestkirkish for betaing this for me! I love you and you are amazing! Any remaining mistakes are my own. And to the fabulous Sloan, for helping me out with Luke's handwriting! Enjoy 🧡

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationship: Juke 💜

in the great scheme of life and ghosts

No matter how many times Luke insisted that she had been snooping through his things, Julie knew for a fact that she had done no such thing. In reality, she had simply been cleaning the studio when she came across it.

For three ghosts who didn't eat and could barely even touch anything most of the time, the boys sure knew how to make a mess. Every morning Julie would walk into the studio to find the chairs or coffee table rearranged, at least one of the rugs was always askew, and the clothes... the clothes were everywhere, and the worst part was: they reeked. 

And so every morning before leaving for school Julie would shoot them a stern look and tell them to pick up after themselves. Which they did - when she got back home, things were mostly in their rightful place. Still, every weekend Julie would make sure to take a moment away from homework and rehearsal to tidy the place up to perfection, just like her mom liked it. She'd dust off the furniture, water the plants, sweep the floor, and even vacuum the whole place. One Saturday when she was home alone (her dad photographing a wedding, and Carlos at a friend's house), she even went through the trouble of washing all of the guys' old clothes. 

Somehow, and she didn't even want to think about how that worked, the clothes didn't stink when they were actually wearing them, but at any other moment when they made no contact with their skin? Yeah... not good. So she washed them all (three times, using every trick and product she had). She washed them a fourth time for good measure and, by the time she was finished, any traces of twenty-five year old mold was gone, and so was the smell.

So no, she was not snooping - no matter what Luke said - when she came across the crumpled paper ball between the couch and the low cabinet, just behind a big vase her mom had gotten from tía Victoria.

Julie sighed, making a mental note to tell Luke to put his discarded ideas in the bin (again) if he didn't want them anymore, when one scribbled and wrinkled word caught her attention: Perfect Ha-

She bit her lip, staring down at the teasing word. Perfect what? Was it lyrics? Maybe half formed ideas? Doodles? Julie knew Luke liked to doodle in the margins of his notebook whenever he got stuck trying to come up with the next best piece of lyric or melody. She also knew she should probably just leave it alone, put it with his stuff to ask him later if he wanted to keep it, or put it in the garbage. Except the more she glanced down at that damn word, the stronger she felt it pull her towards uncovering whatever else the crumpled paper ball was hiding. 

In the end, the pull was too strong. She'd just take a quick look, make sure it wasn't anything important before she threw it away. And, she reasoned with herself, trying to squish the guilt that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach: Luke had gotten rid of it, so he clearly didn't care much for whatever was in there. 

Not able to resist any longer, Julie carefully unfolded the paper, slowly making her way towards the piano and using its surface as a table to help smooth the page over.

Luke's (horrendous) handwriting covered it with the bare bones of a song, random lines were scribbled in the margins with a couple of doodles for company, and even a little note from their bassist - ‘Reggie was here ;)’.

It took her a minute before the chicken scratches became words, and then Julie's breath left her in a rush, as the guilty feeling in her stomach turned into butterflies and flew away with her imagination. 

It was a song, parts of one, anyway, and - more importantly - it was a love song.

Unprompted, her own words came back to her, "Wow, Luke! I didn't know you were such a romantic." Quickly followed by Alex's short reply, "He's not."

She knew now who Unsaid Emily was really about, but these new words were clearly about a different kind of love. The romantic kind, and Julie couldn't help letting herself believe - just for a moment - that the song might be about her.

Before she could let herself be carried away in a daydream, there was a - now familiar - shift in the air, a sound almost like static, the only thing letting her know of a ghost's appearance. Without a thought, she crumpled the page again and shoved the paper ball in her pocket for later inspection. 

"Hey, Julie!" Reggie's cheerful greeting sounded across the studio from where he had poofed in, and soon - with his "help," bless him - Julie was finished with her weekend clean up. 

As if summoned by the end of her chores, Luke poofed in, ready to rehearse. Alex soon followed; and by the time Julie retired for the night, the song had been almost forgotten where it hid inside her pocket. 

Almost.

***

After getting ready for the night, Julie settled on her bed with the wrinkled page and her dreambox. She read over the words again and again, imagining they were about her.

Step into my world, 

Bittersweet love story about a girl 

Shook me to the core 

Voice like an angel, 

I've never heard before, 

- 

You and me together, it's more than chemistry 

- 

Love me as I am 

I hold your music 

Here inside my hands 

- 

You are my brightest burning star 

- 

We create Perfect Harmony.

And unless Luke had been singing with another girl, there didn't seem to be many options on who it could be about, right?

From the beginning, Julie had felt something connecting her to him; to all of them, in different ways. But Luke had been the one to give her a little piece of his soul right after meeting her when he let her use Bright to earn back her spot in the music program. Seeing his passion reflecting back on her, the way he treated music like she used to, made her miss it more than anything for the first time in almost a year. It made her miss the way it felt to use music to connect with her mom.

After they spent a whole weekend finishing each other's songs and working on new ones, getting to know each other's inner workings - the part of them that bled out feelings into paper to create beautiful melodies, Julie knew she was a goner. Finding out he'd been the one to write the words that shaped her taste in rock certainly didn't help. Like he'd been helping her find her way to music long before they even met.

Her crush on him had been inevitable from the start, and while falling for him was probably one of the worst things she could’ve done, it was too late to stop it. She'd been free falling for a while, and hopefully she'd land in his arms soon enough. Reading over his words again gave Julie a warm fluttering in her stomach that made her think he was more than ready to catch her once she reached the ground. 

Carefully folding the piece of paper, she put it inside her dreambox, then placed the box back on the shelf.

***

The following week went by without any hiccups. Every once in a while, Julie would remember Luke's song and a familiar warmth would fill her up, leaving a soft smile on her lips and glazed eyes staring off at nothing. Just as often, Flynn would have to shake her out of her daydreams.

She didn't think much would come of it until her dad decided to throw the band a party so he could film them and post their video on YouTube. Which was fine. Amazing, even. It was most certainly great! Until Luke came to the school, staring at her with his stupid, beautiful, awed eyes, and with his soft, perfect smile, saying things that made her combust and melt, all at the same time.

"I think you make me a better writer." 

    "I think we make each other better."

Calling Nick 'Luke' was bad enough, but slipping into a complete musical sequence as she danced with him? "Goner" didn't even begin to describe her. 

Like the other times they'd written together, the lyrics flowed through her, finishing the song he'd started with the same ease as one would take a breath.

Julie knew that whatever was going on between her and Luke couldn't happen or, if it did, it couldn't last. In fact, in the great scheme of life and ghosts, she didn't know much, but what she did know was that - be it in life or in death - love was constant. 

He didn't need to have a heartbeat or to be able to touch her for her to love him. He was just as real to her as the next person, and whether it would hurt in the long run or not, it didn't matter. 

She knew Flynn was only looking out for her, but that ship had sailed, and Julie was already so lost in his ocean eyes that avoiding eye contact wasn't going to bring it back. She would entertain her though, even knowing it wouldn't work. Just like the tide, eventually he'd pull her right back in.

She could love him just as he was, for however long they had together, and especially after that.

-

End notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it! And, if you'll notice, at the beginning it kind of gives off the impression that Luke eventually finds out about the song and Julie tells him how she found it. Which may or may not lead you to believe that they're in a relationship. I guess it all depends on interpretation though ;)

Oh, also! Shout out to the chaos squad folks that guessed right! You guys are no fun :( /j lmao

[feirceangel]

Imagine | A Baby? (David)

Imagine David having to raise you.

Requested by @Davidsmate24 on Wattpad.

~

The night started as normal, the boys hanging around the boardwalk until they grew hungry. So, they tracked down a few unsuspecting people and feasted.

Of course, something unexpected happened.

When David was about to attack a woman, she screamed, "No, Y/n! Don't hurt her!"

David, naturally, paid her outburst no mind and drained her of blood.

Then, he heard a cry.

A baby's cry.

This was not good. The Lost Boys never hurt children: it was just an unspoken rule. David frowned as he investigated the noise.

He discovered a babe wrapped in a soft f/c blanket lying by a bunch of bags on the ground. This must be the 'Y/n' that the lady was screaming about.

Paul, Marko, and Dwayne come beside him and stare down at the child.

"What are we gonna do?" Marko asks, tilting his head.

David cusses, "I have no idea."

~

Long story short, they took you in and began raising you as their own.

It wasn't easy for them to get accustomed to you.

~

David stares at the screaming kid with irritation etched into his features. "What the hell is wrong with it?!"

At his tone, she begins to cry out again, louder this time. He runs a gloved hand through his hair and breathes out heavily.

Dwayne speaks up, "Maybe she's hungry?"

"Marko, food," David demands.

Marko frowns, "What do babies eat?"

"I don't know, think of something!" David growls, sending the younger vampire scampering away.

The child watches the curly blond leave before wailing again.

"Ugh, make it stop!" He seethes, glaring at the nuisance.

"Maybe pick it up?" Paul suggests.

David curls his lip, "No way. You hold it."

"Hey, it's not my responsibility."

"Why is it my responsibility?"

"Because you killed its mom."

Dwayne intervenes, "Can you stop calling her an it? She has a name."

"What was it again?"

Dwayne sighs, "Y/n."

"Oh right."

David, having enough of the crying, finally bends down and scoops the child into his arms.

To everyone's surprise, Y/n stops crying.

Marko walks in, holding up a bag, "I found some baby food!"

"Finally," David sighs, and hands the kid over to Marko and Dwayne. Although he'd never admit it, he actually liked holding the baby in his arms.

~

Eventually, you grew into a cute toddler. Marko and Paul loved playing with you and teaching you knew things, like how to speak and walk and draw, while Dwayne was determined to teach you the alphabet and simple math.

David was like the overseer, and somehow your favourite out of all the boys. He would read to you and show you cool 'magic' tricks and tuck you into bed each morning.

The boys all grew attached to you, and loved you as much as they would have their own flesh and blood.

~

When you discovered that the boys were vampires, you were unaffected, having not understood what vampires were in the first place. They told you when you were younger, so that it wouldn't be such a shock.

They told you that you could turn when you were eighteen, which seemed so far away at the time.

Currently, at seventeen years of age, you've become a bit of a rebel. Therefore, it's been harder for the boys to keep you out of trouble.

You sneak out during the middle of the day to explore Santa Carla without the boys watching your every move. You've even been hanging around the comic book shop much to the annoyance of David.

He's become so protective of you, demanding that you stop seeing Edgar and Alan, claiming that they're 'dangerous'.

You can understand where he's coming from, seeing as the Frog brothers are determined self proclaimed vampire hunters. The fact that you're going to turn into a vampire in a few months would make them hate you.

David hates waking up to find you missing, although you always leave notes to tell him where you are.

Paul and Marko usually feed your rebellious side, being the fun uncles of the group. Dwayne is more of the calm, but still cool, uncle.

David, on the other hand, is your father figure, having taken up the mantle when he 'found' you on the beach.

You even call him 'dad' sometimes.

In the best sense, you and the Lost Boys make a tightly knit family, willing to do anything for each other.

~

You enter the comic book shop with a smile, sunlight pouring in after you. Edgar and Alan look up from the books in their hands to return the smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

Alan crosses his arms and leans against the counter, "Not much. It's been quiet lately."

"No vampires?" You tease, a sly smirk forming on your lips. Deep inside, you're terrified that one day they'll find what they've been looking for.

If they did find out the Lost Boys' secret, there's no doubt that they would try something foolish.

You really don't want that to happen.

Edgar glares at you, "Not yet, but we're ready."

"I know that. You and your crosses and garlic."

Alan adds, "Don't forget the holy water."

You roll your eyes, but cringe on the inside. Holy water is the only thing that can actually harm the boys, apart from sunlight.

Relax, they have no clue.

Sitting on the counter next to Alan, you look at the fading sunlight. You snuck out before sunset to throw off the Frog's suspicion, just in case.

"What are you doing tonight, Y/n?"

You turn to Alan and shrug, "No idea. Probably just hang around here, if that's okay?"

"Got nothing better to do?" Edgar questions.

"Jeez, now that I think of it, I've got dinner with the Queen! How could I forget that?" You laugh, "What do you think, Eddie?"

Alan suggests, "We could always go to that concert, close up shop early.

"Ooh, yes! I wanted to catch that concert! It's gonna be awesome!"

You look to Edgar with wide puppy dog eyes, "C'mon, what'd you say?"

He doesn't say anything, simply sighs and nods. You laugh in victory and leap up, "Let's go, losers!"

~

The concert is amazing!

You've been to a bunch of different concerts before, but never with the Frog brothers. They kinda just stand there and maybe nod along, but it's nice to be with friends.

In the distance, you hear motorcycles revving.

Crap. I hope they don't ruin everything.

You nudge Edgar, "We should head back."

"Why?" He frowns in confusion.

"It's nothing, let's just go."

You push through the crowd on your way to the shop. As you break free from the swarm of people, a different group blocks your way.

An angry David leads them.

"Oh, uh, heya Pops," you mumble, looking downwards. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Where were you?" He asks.

"Out."

"I know that, I want to know where you were."

You gulp. Technically, you're not supposed to be hanging around the Frog brothers.

"I was around. I went to the concert."

Just then, two familiar brothers arrive behind you, "These guys bothering you?"

"No-" you start to say, but a glare from David silences you.

"The Frogs," the head vampire growls with a smile.

This is not good

"Why are you hanging around my daughter?" He takes a drag from his cigarette.

Edgar and Alan freeze. They hadn't known about you're fatherly attachment to David.

"Daughter?" Edgar asks disbelievingly.

He nods.

They look to you and you nod, "Yeah, this is my adopted dad, David. David, you know Edgar and Alan."

"You're one of them!" Edgar accuses. He's been suspecting the Lost Boys of being murderous vampires for some time.

"No!" At your outburst, David frowns dangerously. "I mean, kind of. I don't know," you try to explain.

Alan scoffs and starts to walk away, "Don't bother coming back to the shop. You're not welcome."

Your heart breaks as they leave.

Tears fall from your face as Marko wraps you in a warm embrace, "It's okay, kid."

"It's not okay!" You yell, wrenching away from them.

You run to the beach, away from it all. The silence is a welcomed experience. You turn when you sense a presence.

"David, why did you do that?!"

"You have to realize that they don't care about you! You know what they'd do if they knew for a fact that you were raised by vampires?! They'd kill you, Y/n. This is for the best."

You hate to admit it, but he's right. You hate it when he's right.

He hands you a cigarette and lights it for you, "I'm sorry, hun. I know you wanted to be their friend."

"They're the only ones who wanted anything to do with me."

"Not true," David chastises, "Marko, Paul, and Dwayne love hanging with you."

"It's not the same."

He sighs heavily, "You're right. We're your family: we're never gonna run away like that, no matter what."

You hiccup, trying to stop the tears. He draws you close and hugs you, "Love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, dad."

[mudskip-muses]

Months… It’s been months since he’s seen Gundham. With the breeder spirited away to help the population of some endangered species— Kazuichi had only been partially paying attention when Gundham explained it to their class, too focused on how ill his stomach started to feel at the prospect of Gundham leaving, even if only temporarily —it has been a grueling time for the mechanic. Utterly useless for the first couple weeks, aside from tending to the Devas’ needs (left in his care while Gundham was gone) Kazuichi had griped and groaned so much his friends’ pity had quickly turned into annoyance…

Things had gotten better, Kazuichi throwing himself into his projects and schoolwork to pass the time. Lamenting to the Devas when distractions weren’t enough, since his so-called friends weren’t nearly as sympathetic. There were a few hiccups— like spending time with his dad (Kaz upsetting him even more frequently since his mind was often elsewhere, mainly wondering what a certain breeder was up to, if he was alright… and missing Kaz nearly as much too) And getting ambushed by some jerks once word got around that Gundham wasn’t around to protect him. But Kazuichi took care of himself afterward like he used to before he had Gundham around to tend his wounds instead.

Still, time couldn’t pass quick enough…

Even now, anxiously bouncing on the heels of his shoes, it still can’t. Seconds tick by agonizingly, Kaz biting his bottom lip and scanning the area in front of him, as if he might miss the breeder by blinking. ‘ C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… ’ Chimes a silent plea. ‘ Where ARE you? ’ Groaning under his breath like an impatient child, Kazuichi stuffs his hands into his pockets with a huff, starting to pace back and forth like a caged animal. Where is he? It’s time for him to come back. Like he always does.

With that final thought, Kaz glances back over— and sees him. ❝ GUNDHAM! ❞ He immediately blurts out, pure excitement in his tone and within his dilated eyes. Racing towards the other man despite the space between them— paying no heed to anyone who might be witnessing the scene —Kazuichi leaps at Gundham as soon as distance permits, fully expecting for the larger man to catch him. Arms wrapping around Gundham’s neck with a laugh as he makes impact, he sputters through the joyous sound, ❝ Dude, I missed you so much! It was fucking awful not having you around! ❞

Tears beading in the corners of his eyes, misty gaze is focused upon the other man, as if disbelieving that he’s actually back. Despite KNOWING Gundham would return, relief still swells within Kazuichi’s chest. Flooding his face with warmth and causing his heart to pound. Missing doesn’t begin to cover what he felt while Gundham was gone. The dorm was emptier, days longer, nights colder… It was as if a piece of himself was missing. A piece Kaz hadn’t known existed until Gundham revealed it to him. One that could care about someone as deeply as this, could be vulnerable and still wanted, could be scared and yet safe. Could comfort and be comforted. Could be TRULY happy, even if he’d gone his life believing that wasn’t something meant for him.

So, Kazuichi acts before he can think enough to second-guess a decision he’d been dreading for weeks… Moving forward, lips press against Gundham’s, inexperienced but earnest. Remembering their first kiss— internally cringing at the disaster it had been —Kazuichi is able to rein in his fears. Not allowing them to rush a moment he wants to savor (in case he doesn’t get another chance to do this) he lets the kiss stay slow, simply wanting to marvel at the feeling of Gundham’s lips. How cool Gundham’s body is to the touch, pairing perfectly with the warmth that always seems to burn beneath Kazuichi’s skin. Releasing a shaky breath when he reluctantly pulls away, lips brush against Gundham’s as he tentatively opens his eyes, breath mingling in soft pants as he meets his best friend’s gaze.

Swallowing thickly as regret abruptly washes over, lips still tingling from the feeling of before, Kaz weakly says the only thing that comes to mind, voice breaking from nerves, ❝ I’m, uh— I’m kinda- maybe… probably- …. definitely gay. ❞

- (( *shoves @ you because jgbjgbjgbh - tfw This is how he decides to come out to Gundham ))

@not-bcring

This wasn’t the first time Gundham had been whisked away to assist with animal rehabilitation, and most definitely wouldn't be the last, the breeder able to add wolves, tigers, turtles, whales, and now snow leopards onto the long list of creatures that had fallen under his care, poaching for the luxury of their pelts leading to some organization or another requesting the aid of the Ultimate Breeder when the levels were beginning to dip too low for comfort. It wasn’t a permanent fix by any means, but with the breeder’s aid the leopard's numbers were no longer teetering, Gundham able to leave them far better off than when he had arrived, even in just a few months time. 

Still, the organization that hired him wasn’t willing to let him go just yet, fighting tooth and nail with the school to try and get the renowned breeder to stay longer, and he was, dare he say, relieved that they had failed. As much as it pained him to leave knowing there was still work he could do, Gundham knew he still had animals of his own back at Hope’s Peak that needed his care, not to mention his mother, and a certain mechanic that hadn’t strayed far from his thoughts the entire time he was away. Had it not been for the location, Gundham would have most certainly been calling him every day, but they were remote, the only calls going in or out that of top priority, and as much as the breeder would have liked to argue that checking up on his...friend was of high importance, he knew it would have been an empty argument.

Even with the inability to speak with him, Kazuichi was always there in the back of his mind, not a single day going by where Gundham didn’t see something he wished to show the mechanic, even a time or two when he had turned to his side with a grin as if he would be standing there, so very bright against the snow that surrounded them with that sharp toothed grin. The cold...it only made him miss the warmth of the other man that much more, such a stark contrast to his own icy touch, now turned positively frigid with the added mountain air. 

Maybe...maybe one day, he could bring Kazuichi here, show him the cubs the breeder had helped bring to life, someone to share in his triumphs instead of being alone like so many other times before...

Time...wasn’t moving fast enough for the breeder, and perhaps that should scare him, that there was another, a mere mortal that had taken his attention just as much as his beloved beasts could, but...it had been quite some time since Kazuichi had been just a mortal, hadn’t it? They... had been through too much, had seen each other at too many highs and lows for the other to ever be anything less than a friend, no matter how much Gundham’s heart ached for more. Having a friend in Kazuichi was enough, more than enough, that in of itself something he could treasure. 

Kazuichi himself, would always be enough.

Parking his car in the lot at Hope’s Peak, body starting the day holding a tired drag obtained from overworking jet lag, Gundham couldn’t spring from the driver’s seat fast enough now, hand grabbing what had been his carry on from the passenger seat in pure subconscious thought, the breeder only partially sure he remembered to close his car door behind him before he was sprinting across the lot with a heavy clunk of his boots, only one person on his mind that he intended to find before anything else.

It wasn’t hard to spot Kazuichi, never had been, something that used to fill him with such annoyance now only made Gundham quicken his pace that much more, face breaking out into a grin that most assuredly made those around him who saw it do a double take, the pure, unfiltered joy something none had seen aside from the man who had caused it with his mere presence alone. 

Gundham caught him easily, as he always does, and always would, bag dropping to the ground with a dull thunk as his arms wrapped about the mechanic, hands gripping tightly at the back of his jumpsuit as if at any moment he may be ripped away. He wasn’t likely to ever admit it, but there were tears clouding the overlord’s eyes as he buried his face in Kazuichi’s shoulder, the pure warmth of the other man making his breathing stutter with the realization that this was real, it wasn’t another dream leading to cold morning on the mountain, heart heavy with yearning for a man so many miles away that wasn’t even his.

“I missed you too, my paramour...” It’s said without missing a beat, even as alarm bells went off in the back of Gundham’s mind, the distant though of how he hoped Kazuichi didn’t know what that meant, that this slip up could remain hidden, cutting through the joy as the other pulled back, the breeder so very ready to be met with fear-

And then lips were on his, and Gundham almost felt like he was back on the mountain top, fear of his own permeating the shock that this was another dream, but...the warmth in his arms, it was unmistakable.

Holding Kazuichi to him with a single arm about his waist, Gundham let his bandaged hand, his supposed cursed hand, cup the mechanic’s cheek, thumb pressing gently over what he was sure looked like a fading bruise upon his cheekbone, but that would have to be an issue for later, the breeder too busy trying to memorize the feeling of it all, the press of bodies, the warmth of the other, the way Kazuichi’s breath tickled his face as he pulled away with...regret? 

No...No, this...it couldn’t be a mistake again, it couldn’t-

But before Gundham can get too far into a spiral, Kazuichi is speaking again, his voice washing over every bit of worry and replacing it with a mirth untouched by such vile thoughts. Letting out a surprised laugh, Gundham set Kazuichi back to the ground, the self proclaimed overlord looking so very human with emotions so often buried as he took the mechanic’s face in his hands, pressing kisses, kisses, kisses, KISSES all over the other’s face, any part of it he could reach, before ending on his mouth once again, no longer trying to memorize but to feel for the simple sake of feeling. 

Pulling away, those tears that had threated to spill finally made their way down Gundham’s cheeks, his smile unmatched by any other as he gazed into Kazuichi’s eyes, still very much disbelieving. “This...I am not still dreaming?” It sounds horribly sappy as it left his lips, like something from one of those mortal movies his mother loved so, but it’s something that he needed to hear. He needed to know that this is real, that this wasn’t another product of his mind like so many other things were between them. The hatred in the beginning, the possible feelings that had almost been their downfall, and now this...this potential, it...it was real, wasn’t it? 

This time it was real.

[pinkjeanist]

“the luckiest.” || shouta aizawa

     ⇥ It took you three tries to tell Shouta you were pregnant. [1.6k words - f!reader]

a/n: this song makes me sob. catch it playing at my wedding. [navigation]

“You said you’ve been experiencing fatigue, nausea, and vomiting...do you know when your last period was?” 

“Uh…” You pulled out your phone to check your health app for the date, even though you knew well enough that you were long overdue. “Over a month ago, by a couple weeks.”

“Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?”

You’d known the question was coming. You were asked about it at almost every visit to the doctor’s, and the answer was always “yes,” but that answer seemed a little too close for comfort, now. After reading article after article online about what your symptoms could mean, just hearing Recovery Girl ask the question cemented the conclusion you’d now come to in your mind.

Your hand gripped the arm of the chair. “Yes.”

She looked over her visor at you, pausing in her typing. “You seem especially worried about that. Do we need to do a test?”

“I mean…” You sighed, breath quivering. “...I guess that’s the only reasonable thing to do.”

She fished out a test after a while of searching around her office and gave it to you to use the next morning. You held the box in your hands, but couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Recovery Girl came to sit next to you.

“I have a feeling you don’t want a baby?”

You sighed and shook your head. “No, I do, I just...I don’t know if Shouta does. We’ve never really talked about it, so I don’t know…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I want a baby. I’ve wanted one with him even before we got married. But he’s always had enough kids on his hands to satisfy any want for one of his own, I think…” 

“Well, you can never know for sure unless you ask him!” You gave another long sigh at that. She set her cane aside to take your hand in both of her own. “There are always options. Even if you both aren’t ready now, that doesn’t mean you won’t be ready later. And you never know- you might not even be pregnant to begin with!” 

You stilled for a long moment, then nodded with a swallow. “You’re right. I just need to talk to him.”

“Have the conversation with him even if it comes out negative. Doctor’s orders.” She slid down from the chair and grabbed her cane, moving to sit back at her desk. You didn’t even know if she was a certified nurse, but you trusted her. Well, you trusted her enough, anyway.

The next morning, you slipped out of bed before the sun to take the test. Shouta didn’t think anything of it when you slipped back into bed and held him close. You didn’t cry until he’d gone off early to work.

Yeah. You were definitely gonna have to have the baby talk with him. 

-

It took you three tries to tell him.

The first time, you may or may not have chickened out, even though you knew the time you had left to make a decision about whether to keep it was running out. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous; you knew he would love you and support you no matter what, and you’d rehearsed your little speech over it a million times in the mirror that morning. But when you finally found a good time to tell him, you were at a loss for words.

It had been after work when you’d both come home with the intent of having a quiet, slow night in. Shouta said he’d make dinner for you, since there weren’t many nights lately where he’d had the chance, and you sat at the table with him in a painful silence. You were usually quiet when you ate, seeing as how you were trying to eat, but he noticed something off right away nevertheless. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his own.

He poked at his food but kept your gaze. “You’re upset. Did something happen?”

Yes, you wanted to say, something did happen. It was a happening that he should very well know about, and was of utmost urgency, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. So instead, you told him: “I just...I’m a little tired. The kids took a lot out of me today.” 

It wasn’t completely untrue, you supposed, but you still felt bad, and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you. But he didn’t press, and you didn’t tell him what was really wrong. And so you ate in silence.

By the second time you’d tried to tell him, you had finally found the confidence to do so, but Shouta was called on an emergency job after work when you’d both planned on talking. He wasn’t home until late that night, and was too tired and beaten to do anything more than go to bed, so you went to bed with him and kept to yourself.

When you actually told him, though, it was by accident.

It was a few mornings after that night, and a week after you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d immediately gone to the bathroom to vomit upon waking, and then proceeded to the kitchen to eat half a breadloaf’s worth of toast. He woke up some time after you and stood in the doorway, watching you take another piece of toast from the buttered pile on your plate.

“Good morning, Grumpy,” You called him by his nickname, then chugging some water. His brow furrowed at you.

“That’s an awful lot of toast.”

“Yeah. This baby has me starving.” 

He blinked. You looked up, blinked back, and then froze.

“You’re-”

“I’m pregnant.” 

He stilled. “Oh.” 

You furrowed your brow. “What did you think I was gonna say?” 

“That you’re having cravings?? I don’t know, I thought you meant “baby” figuratively.” He came to sit down next to you and stole a piece of toast from your pile. He bit down into it and swallowed before he finally realized: “Oh fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“I said that!” You hit his arm gently as anxiousness climbed up your throat. You felt like you were going to vomit again, but not so much because of morning sickness, now. He looked at you with an expression you didn’t recognize, and becoming impatient, you asked, “I mean...what do you think?”

“Well...you’re the one growing it. I want to have it. I don’t think I could tell you how much I’ve wanted to have a baby with you...but it’s up to you if we’re keeping it.”

“You say “growing” as if it’s a melon or something.” 

“It’s gonna look like one in a few months.” You hit him playfully again, and felt a million times better when he smiled. He took your hand and ran his thumb over your knuckles. “I mean, It’s not a bad thing. You’re gonna look amazing. And then you’re still going to look amazing with a baby in your arms.” 

You felt your breath escape you as your eyes grew wet. “So you...we’re really doing this? You want to be a dad?” 

“Well now that you’ve told me...I don’t think there’s anything I want more.” 

You didn’t think about what his reaction would be when you told him. You already knew he wouldn’t be one of those people that jumped up and down and started screaming the news to the world, but you also hadn’t expected him to be so calm. You didn’t mind his cool about it, though.

Well, he had his wits about him until he started to cry, anyway. 

“I’m gonna be a dad.” You started to cry with him, feeling all of the stress and nervousness from the past week finally overflow. It felt good, though, crying with him. It was like you were turning all of that panic into joy- a joy that he chipped into with his own emotion. “You’re gonna be a mom.” 

“We kind of already are. You basically adopted Eri and your entire class.” You sobbed, squeezing his hand with a smile. You talked as if you weren’t weeping. 

“They’re all going to want to be godparents…” He choked with a smile. “...I’m not ready for that conversation with them…” 

“Oh, they’re gonna be so happy, Shouta, I’m so happy…” 

“I’m happy, too.” You couldn’t even comprehend the level of agreement in his voice. You knew what he was saying was true, and you didn’t even know why you’d been nervous. Of course he wanted a baby. A part of you felt like you’d known that all along.

He sniffed, but let his tears stain his cheeks. “How far in are you?” 

“I don’t know. I should probably go to the doctor to see.” You scooted your chair closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you sniffled as you did the same. “Will you come with me?”

“You already know I will.” He grabbed at your body to hold you impossibly closer even still. You breathed him in as the last of your full-blown sobs simmered into hiccups. 

After a while, he murmured into your hair: “Thank you.”

You huffed with humor. “You should thank my birth control for totally beefing it with this one.” 

He pinched your side, making you giggle and hit his chest playfully back. You spoke up, “We should probably go to work.”

“God, no. We’re staying home and cuddling.” The aggression in his response made you giggle again. You kept an arm around him as you went back to eating your now-cold toast, and he kept his side pressed against yours as he made a quick call to Yuuei before eating with you. 

It would have felt normal were it not for the literal being festering in your belly, but not-so-normal was okay, you supposed. Shouta seemed content with the not-so-normalcy as well, which was all you needed for comfort. Well, the toast was pretty comforting, too. 

-

taglist: @keigos-dove @hanniejji @knifeewifee @bvnnyclouds @wesparklebitch @katsukis-sad-angel

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist. 

[asthmark]

❝ let’s dance ❞ s.jh

synopsis → “i’m gonna marry you.”

request → “How about Johnny fluff partying time and the concept theme is the 80s” — @heart-bleeding-autism-angel​

word count → 2.5k

a/n → the amount of googling i did for this is scary .. and i still know literally nothing abt the 80’s LOL anyway the title is my fav david bowie song that happened to be released in ‘83 and it kind of fits the the fic so,,, cool :-)

the moonlight shines through your window, casting it’s heavenly glow on your face. despite the late hour, it illuminates your entire room enough that you can read the time off the clock hanging on your wall.

11:55 p.m.

if they decide to be on time, your friends should be arriving in five minutes.

you retreat from your windowsill to prepare yourself. you stop in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothing. it takes you a couple moments to pick something you liked. you, of course, wanted to impress johnny, the self proclaimed fashion evaluator, but there was no better feeling than knowing you looked good.

you settle on a cozy turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. then you pull on a pair of tube socks and slip on your prized white sneakers. for the final touch, you slide on a thin buckle belt through the loops of your skirt to tie it all together.

you smile satisfactorily at your reflection in the mirror and what was sure to be your best outfit yet. besides being well-put together, it felt comfortable enough to move around in and you knew you would surely be doing much moving that night.

once the clock strikes midnight, you notice  light flash into your room. since it’s brighter than that of the moon, you know exactly who must be behind it. even if you didn’t, the hushed chatter and giggling from outside your window gives it away. you peer down into your backyard to find sicheng and jaehyun standing there, flashlights in hand and aimed directly into your bedroom.

you hastily wave your hands at them, your face twisted with worry. they wave back at you with goofy smiles on their faces, oblivious to your concern.

“cut the lights!” you hiss as silently as you can.

they finally seem to get the hint and click them off. jaehyun shouts back, “sorry!” accompanied by a laugh sicheng has failed to contain. you wince at their volume. there was no keeping them quiet so you decide your only option is to move as fast as you possibly can.

you carefully push one leg out of your window. it dangles above the roof of the front porch and you slowly lower it onto the tile. once you’ve successfully planted half of yourself on the roof, you bring your other leg down. this action is followed by a slight creek but you don’t even bother hesitating. you crouch down to the edge of the house and repeat the previous steps, this time landing on the front steps of your porch.

“that was smooth!” jaehyun exclaims in awe.

you bring a finger to your lips but still can’t help but smile at the praise.

“you’re like a ninja,” adds sicheng. “or a cat.” he pauses, deep in thought, before concluding, “you’re a ninja cat.”

you raise a brow. “you’ve both been drinking, haven't you?”

“no.”

“yes.”

“i’m gonna have to believe jae on this one,” you say, observing the way sicheng’s eyelids droop and he slurs his words. “you couldn’t have waited ‘til we got to the club?”

he whines like a child. “i was thirsty!”

you clamp your hand over his mouth and scold him. “why do you feel the need to be so loud? do you want me to get caught?”

jaehyun hiccups. “aren’t you glad i’m an introvert? i’ll never get you in trouble.”

you laugh dryly. “sure, you’re all introverted until you find some random chick to grind on.”

he pouts. “let me have fun.”

“it’s fun until you spill your drink on her and i have to help clean—oh come on, sicheng, did you just lick me?” you remove your hand from his mouth only to find a big smile on his lips.

“perhaps.”

“god, let’s just go. where’s johnny parked?”  

“end of the street.”

you go in said direction with your two friends trailing behind you, messing around all the while. the three of you only stop when you catch sight of johnny’s shiny black convertible. you approach the vehicle and when he notices you, he smiles and shoots you a wink.

“you’re such a flirt,” you comment, opening the door to the passenger's seat.  

he shrugs. “but you still fell in love with me so i’d say it’s worked out pretty well up until this point.”

you’re about to respond when jaehyun interrupts. “hey, i wanted to ride shotgun!”

“me too!” agrees sicheng. “y/n always gets it!”

johnny glares at the pair through the rear view mirror. “and that’s how i like it so get in the backseat or you’re walking.”

they mumble what you assume are complaints yet still get in the car.

johnny revs up the engine but before you go anywhere he makes an announcement. “and if either of you are going to vomit again, all i ask is that you don’t do it in here. my dad just bought me this bad boy.”

a chuckle escapes your lips.

“what are you laughing about over there?”

you lean back against the headrest, smile still present. “we literally have two kids.”

“basically. but hey, there’s no one else i’d rather babysit two grown men with than you.”

“stop, i’m blushing,” you deadpan.

johnny’s shoulders shake with laughter at your sarcasm. “seriously, though! you really know how to take care of someone. one day, if i’m lucky enough, i’ll be able to see that up close.”

you know exactly what he means by that last statement—he was thinking of a future with you. the last thing you want to do is burst his bubble but you knew how your parents felt about your relationship. they thought you could do better than ‘some football player from your school’. they had friends with young, stuck up sons who, according to them, were more fit for you. despite being told countless times how happy johnny made you, they paid you no mind.

you nod, sincerely. “i hope so.”

he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin. you stay like that for the entire drive.

once you finally reach your destination, you leave all doubt and anxiety surrounding your relationship with johnny in the car along with any other negativity. the flashing lights and loud music you could hear even from outside the club excites you and you’re left with no choice but to discard all of your worries. you never got tired of seeing the glowing, neon sign letting you know that you had arrived at the hottest hang out spot there was—the neo zone.

as soon as you step inside, sicheng’s face contorts in displeasure. “i’m, uh, going to the bathroom.” he carelessly pushes past strangers, clutching his stomach.

you notice jaehyun has disappeared as well. before you can ask, you spot him on the dance floor, inserting himself in some line dance he obviously isn’t familiar with. his limbs move awkwardly and completely out of sync with the rest of the group. he recieves multiple strange looks and you can’t help but cringe.

“where did we go wrong with them?”

johnny’s laugh can hardly be heard over the booming bass of a song. “couldn’t tell you that, sugar. let’s just hope the next ones come out better.”

there he goes again, talking about your oh-so-promising future. you were still unsure if you would be able to grant johnny the picture perfect life he constantly spoke about. whenever he referenced it, you felt slightly guilty.

instead of acknowledging his comment, you glance around, looking anywhere but him. “want to get a drink?”

he simply nods, placing his hand in the small of your back as you weave your way through the crowd to the bar.

he leans on the counter and orders, “one long island iced tea, please.”

“you know my order?” you ask, pleasantly surprised.

“sweetheart, you get it everytime we come here. and that’s often.”

you still beam at him. “it’s still nice. you know, that you notice those things.”

“everything about you is worth noticing. besides, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

you press a quick kiss to his cheek to show him how grateful you are.

“you really have to work on your aim because you completely missed your target that time.” he teasingly taps his lips.

you roll your eyes with a giggle. “never satisfied, are you, suh?”

“you owe me, just sayin’.”

“oh yeah?”

“totally! i let you sit shotgun!”

“i was the only thing standing in the way of sicheng throwing up all over your dashboard, you should be thanking me!”

johnny presses a kiss to your lips. it’s so unexpected yet enjoyable that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut in bliss. he only pulls away to take a breath of air.

he licks his lips. “how was that?”

you brush imaginary dust off your skirt. “probably the best ‘thank you’ i’ve ever received.”

“says you. i can't get enough of those lips of yours.”

you fiddle with your belt. “nobody's stopping you from getting your fill.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, young lady.”

seconds later, the bartender slides you your drink. “here’s your drink, young lady.” he gives johnny a knowing smile and not-so-subtle thumbs up. “what a pretty little thing you got there.”

you know his words aren’t meant for your ears so you avert your eyes and take small sips of your drink.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t agree more.”

“you know, me and my wife met in this club. just like you two.”

“we’ve actually known each other for a couple years.”

the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “well, look at you. already ahead of the game. you love her?”

johnny doesn’t hesitate to nod. “very much. the only issue is her folks don’t seem to be too crazy about me. they have a long list of suitors, myself excluded.”

you frown and trace the rim of your glass. that never got any easier for you to hear.  

the man nods, understandingly. “i see. well, in that case, you might have to wait. you said you love her and until you get to be together—which you will—keep loving her. that’ll make the time you spend waiting go by like this.” he snaps his fingers to prove his point.

johnny nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “i appreciate the advice. thank you.”

the bartender gives him a curt nod and goes back to tending to the other demanding customers.

before johnny gets a chance to say anything, you ask, “do you wanna dance with me?”

his grin widens. “always.”

you take his hand in yours and lead him to the dance floor. it’s full, as always, multiple bodies pressed up against each other. you waste no time joining in.

your hands end up on his broad shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck and his grip ends up on your hips. the songs played at club neo zone always had a strong bass and energetic vibe so you both match that rhythm, moving to the intense heartbeat of the music. you gaze up at johnny, admiring his good looks even under the glow of the disco lights that colored him shades of bright pink, blue and green.

“what are you looking at, pretty girl?”

“just your face. i like it.”

he hums. “mm, i’m glad. i do too.”

“like my face?”

“no, mine.”

you shove his shoulder, playfully.

he chuckles. “you know i’m joking. you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

you suddenly find your shoes to be very interesting and stare down at them, smiling sheepishly.

“c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now.”

you giggle. “quit it.”

he glides his hands up and down your sides. “i’m serious, darling. it must’ve taken all my luck to get you.”

“i could say the same thing. there’s no one i’d rather be with than you, john.”

his dimples appear at the compliment and he goes in for a bear-like hug. he cradles your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head as both you sway.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

you’re not sure what about this statement catches you most off guard. maybe it’s the way that there’s no teasing tone in his voice or perhaps the fact that he has decided to say this in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

you catch your lower lip in between your teeth. “i’m sorry we have to wait.”

“i’ll wait forever, babygirl, if that’s what it takes. and so what if your parents don’t want that. if one day you’ll let me wake up next to you and have a family with you, i’ll be happy.”

you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his sweet words. “i can't wait.”

with the hope of a future together, you and johnny happily dance the rest of the night away. once the party dies down and the crowd shrinks with every song that passes, your bodies are left sweaty and tired. you agree it’s time to go home.

you spot jaehyun in the back of the club and it takes a lot of effort to drag him off his latest girl interest. he blows her kisses as you yank him away, promising her a phone call in the morning. you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

sicheng is found passed out in the restroom, snoring heavily.

“has he been here this whole time?” you ask with a grunt as you attempt to hoist him up.

johnny shrugs as he helps you lift. “i find it's better to not ask questions.”

you nod in agreement. “fair.”

the car ride is silent mostly thanks to sicheng being knocked out. jaehyun sits quietly as well, staring out the window. johnny decides to drop them off first. you stop in front of the jung residence. as you watch the brunette struggle to open the door with one hand and hold sicheng’s unconscious figure in the other, you can’t help but wonder, “is it really a good idea to leave him with jae? i mean, that’s like telling a toddler to look after an infant.”

“if i left him at his house i’m pretty sure his old man would ground him for the rest of his life. jae’s folks are always out of town.”

with that reassurance, you drive off, your next destination being your house. johnny parks exactly where he did at the beginning of the night, just to be safe.

he rests his hands on the steering wheel. “want me to walk you?”

you shake your head. “that’s alright. if i get caught, i’d rather it not be with you. i’d never hear the end of it.”

“yeah, i get it. one day, though, we won’t have to worry about it.” as if to promise you his words are true, he hands you his letterman jacket. it was his prized possession and he was never seen without it. “here, take this. wear it when i can't be with you.”

you nod, clutching the clothing item close to your chest. “i will.”

he leans over as far as his seatbelt allows him to give you the last kiss of the night. it ends too fast for the both of you. you exit his car and walk down the sidewalk towards your house.

johnny watches you through his rear view mirror and smiles to himself when he catches you pull on his jacket.

[ressyfaerie]

Last suggestion! (I've only saw the dub & not read the manga so pls forgive if I'm wrong with this and they all know) Random headcanon that somehow Kai is the last to know about Tyson's mom passing. Idk but I feel like Kai makes a tasteless comment and the team are like dude we know this? And he's just generally ??? what? He misunderstands and thinks it's recent and speaks to Tyson but he tells him it's been years and years and he's at peace with it. Bonus if awkward hug/attempt at one from Kai 😂 (I also headcanon he's never had a hug so has no idea how to)

AWWW this sounds so cute im doin it. Oh alcohol mentions! It wrote itself but its v cute im proud of this one for sure!!!

Just teenagers being teenagers.

A night in the dojo without adult supervision and nothing to do meant stealing alcohol from the liquor cabinet and singing karaoke.

Ray and Max’s harmonies shattered eardrums.

Tyson laughed, “how can they be high and low pitched at the same time?”

Acting silly and opening up was what tonight was all about.

Even Kai got talkative after a few drinks, you could even say he was acting—

“Irresponsible! Kai get down from there!” Tyson held his sides laughing so hard he thought his lungs would collapse.

Kai hung off the edge of the couch, lounging like a rich prince.

Max hopped up beside him, “what are you doing buddy?”

“I’m a cat.”

The room fell into an uproar of laughs and giggles. Kai fell to the cushions laughing as well.

Tyson took every opportunity to jab questions into Kai.

“Favourite animal?”

“Cats.”

“Favourite food?”

“That ramen you made for us that one time.”

“Favourite dance?”

“Never done it, but I’m a fan of swing.”

“Favourite childhood toy?”

Now he got hung up on that one.

They both laid on the floor, everyone slowly joined. Music from karaoke turned on low escaped the TV surrounding the room in a comforting atmosphere.

“I never really had one.”

“Everyone had one!”

“My parents gave me a stuffed tiger.” Ray grinned while holding a pillow close to his chest, “I lost it though. Man, I loved that thing.”

Max started to talk, then stopped giggling, “I had a piece of silk.”

They laughed, Tyson was the first to respond, “a piece of silk?”

“I called it silky. I was from one of my mom’s old skirts. I would sleep with it every night when she was gone.” He chuckled, “I actually still have it.”

“Where is it?” Ray asked.

“At my dads. I keep it on my nightstand.”

Hilary was sleeping on the couch with her head on Kenny’s lap, Kenny joined the conversation with a hushed voice. “Was it hard? Having a mom that was only half there all the time?”

“Yeah. I always told myself… At least I have a mom. There’s lots of people who aren’t as lucky as me.”

“Yeah…” Kenny trailed off, knowing he had two parents that loved him, and he probably wasn’t welcome in the conversation about to ensue.

“Your Dad’s nice though.” Ray pointed out.

“I love my Dad. My Mom can be a handful…”

“Other way around for me.” Tyson had his arms folded behind his head, “at least you don’t have any crazy siblings.”

“Dude, fuck Hiro.” Kai hiccuped.

“Guess we learned Kai has a low alcohol tolerance.” Max threw a pillow at Kai to catch him off guard.

He caught it in midair.

“Ooohhhh!!” Tyson cooed in awe.

Kai grumbled,” I’m fine. I just hate that guy.”

“Well I never knew my parents thanks for asking.” Ray changed the subject delicately, Kai had a habit of getting aggressive when he talked about Hiro, he didn’t want the conversation to turn sour.

“Why not?” Tyson asked with a drunken lack of compassion.

Ray shrugged, “ it takes a village to raise a child, I guess that’s what happened.”

“Makes sense.” Tyson sat up lazily, “wanna know what my favourite toy was?”

“Hell yeah!” Max somehow had another pillow and was throwing it in the air and catching it over and over again.

“Other than Dragoon, it was this old kendo sword my mom gave me. It was an heirloom. I still have it, but I played with it so much I wore it out, I’m afraid to use it again.”

Surprisingly, it was Kai who responded.

“Wow, your Mom must have put a lot of trust in her kid to give them something like that. She must have loved you a lot.”

The room grew quiet and cold.

Kai turned to look at Tyson, who was just staring back with a blank expression.

“I’m going to go get some water.” Tyson sat up making his way to the kitchen.

As soon as they heard the door slide shut, Max shoved a fist into Kai’s chest.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”

“Idiot! Tyson’s Mom died when he was just born! He never even met her! He never talks about it because it's a bit of a touchy subject!”

Max frowned and glared at Kai.

“Sorry.” Kai started, “I never really clued in. I thought she died when he was older.”

Ray slapped a hand to his forehead, “dude, we know this.”

Kai sighed, “I’ll go apologize.”

“Yeah you better!” Max threw the pillow at him, this time Kai let it hit him, accepting his punishment weakly.

“Tyson?”

The kitchen was dimly lit, Tyson was making something at the counter.

“You want some tea Kai?”

“What kind?”

“Just green tea. Nothing special.”

Kai watched him pour the water, unsure how to start, he could still feel the effects of alcohol bouncing around his brain. He waited a moment, hoping to articulate his thoughts appropriately.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, Kai. It’s been a long time, almost two decades, I mean—you’d think I’d be over it?”

Kai saw his eyes, slightly damp with tears.

“This is a tough subject for you. I’m sorry.”

Tyson rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, letting out a sniffle.

“I’ve always been okay with it. I guess… I’ve never known anything different. I do wish my father and brother were more present though.”

Tyson stared out the window into the darkness of night. He couldn’t see anything, but he still looked, for a long while.

Kai licked his lips before continuing, “I never knew my parents well either. They abandoned me, I have some memories of them, but not much.”

Tyson gave him his attention, and tried to change the subject, “so you would have had a favourite toy then?”

Kai suppressed a laugh, knowing what he was trying to do,” like I said, my memories of that time are fuzzy. I actually remember more of the abbey—surprisingly enough.”

“Oh.” Now Tyson was worried he had overstepped.

“Do you remember what your Mom looked like?” Kai wasn’t sure why he was pressing the subject, he normally wouldn’t.

Tyson blinked a few times, surprised by Kai’s sudden curiosity. “Um, apparently I have her hair, and her eyes. Her face was soft too, so I guess I got all my Mom’s features.”

Tyson rubbed the back of his head grinning.

Kai agreed, “thank god.”

Tyson let out a fast laugh, “ha! Did you just call my Dad ugly?”

Kai squinted his eyes, “I guess I did?”

They fell into probably the hundredth laugh attack of that night, Tyson placed his hand on Kai’s shoulder stabilizing himself.

Their laughs drifted away, Kai glanced at Tyson’s hand, then at his best friend.

“I’m sorry you never knew your mother.”

Tyson was caught off guard at Kai’s soft voice.

“I’m sorry you never really knew yours…” Tyson returned the sympathy.

Kai grinned, and bit his lip, “I’m sorry your Dad’s so ugly.”

“Ha!”

The uncontrollable giggles had Tyson holding his side, and Kai hunched over. They were so close to each other now. Tyson’s hand had drifted to Kai’s neck, he could feel his warm skin and heartbeat. Kai had gone completely against his character, and was holding Tyson’s stomach trying to prevent him from keeling over.

Then Tyson fell forward, letting his chin prop on Kai’s shoulder.

Kai was halfway to hugging him.

When he realized this, he stopped giggling, and Tyson’s irregular breathing was the only remnant of laughter left in the room.

Kai’s voice barely reached Tyson’s ear, “I’ve never hugged anyone before.”

“First.” Tyson wrapped his arms around Kai’s shoulders.

Kai held his arms out loosely, “what are you, a youtube comment?”

Short laughs, Kai felt Tyson’s chest rumble with each chuckle, he let his hands fall into Tyson’s body.

He had his arms wrapped around Tyson’ abdomen, then curled them along his back, completely unsure if what he was doing was right.

Tyson’s voice reverberated through Kai’s ears, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“What does it sound like?”

“Fast.”

They didn’t say anything.

Kai felt Tyson’s long hair against his cheek, he had never felt such soft hair, let alone so close… He breathed in.

“You smell like cedarwood and cherry blossom.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

Neither one of them had the confidence to break apart, or maybe... they didn’t want to.

Kai found his hand gliding up Tyson's spine, he felt Tyson shiver slightly at the touch. He gently played with the ends of Tyson’s blue hair, feeling it twirl through his fingers like silk.

“Are you… are you playing with my hair?” Tyson’s voice rang in disbelief.

Kai’s eyes grew wide when he noticed what he was doing. He pushed himself away, keeping one hand on Tyson’s side, he didn’t want to let go completely, out of fear he could never go back.

Tyson was in a mirror position with one hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Tyson smirked.

“You better not.”

“You can play with my hair whenever you want.”

“Can I!?” Kai took a step back after he realized how excited his voice was.

“Learn how to tie a braid and then we can talk.” Tyson pushed the envelope with his teasing.

“I’ll google it right now.”

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Five | Snowy

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Here's an early update this week to make up for last week's missed update (due to finals). 

As a result, expect the usual update on Saturday, as well!

Also, there’s now a Tag List at the bottom of this chapter -- Feel free to message me or comment if you'd like to be included on the list!

• • •

"...So, did you go to the doctor?"

"Yes, dear."

"And what did she say?"

"It's possible I have anemia or something because of malnutrition."

"What's anemia?"

"That just means I don't have enough blood to stay active and do things as I usually do."

"And why did that happen? You've always made us eat healthy!"

"Frisk, honey…" You sigh and place a hand over your forehead, massaging the ache away. "I get that you're worried, but I need a moment to concentrate. The food'll burn if I keep getting distracted."

"Let me help you, then!"

"Not today. You should do your homework now so I can check it later."

"Why? I can help you if you're busy. And Toriel can help me with that later anyway!"

Needing patience, you stop your work on the stew and let out another breath, longer yet quieter this time. Then, you take a sip of water and set the cup aside to wash for later. "You're not going to see any more of your monster friends until I can at least get to know some of them better." You turn off the stove and let the stew rest while you do the same. "Toriel's an exception, yes. But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to visit her place if people like Sans are going to be there, too."

"But he helps me with science!"

"I'll take care of that, then."

"But you're busy!"

"I can make time."

"But isn't it okay if Toriel's gonna be there with him?"

"If it was, I wouldn't be telling you about this in the first place."

Frisk huffs and pouts, arms crossing as they look away from you. "It's not like he's a ticking time bomb anyway. He… He's not gonna hurt me!"

"How can you be so sure? Your (dad/other dad) left us out of the blue."

"I don't care about him, and he's not my dad anymore! Y- You shouldn't call him that, and you should stop comparing other people with him!"

"Don't talk like that. You know that's not-"

"It's true!" Their words almost come off in a shriek and tears stain their face. "He- He doesn't care about me anymore, so I won't care about him, either. It's his fault why you had to go to the doctor in the first place!" 

You stay quiet and watch as they blink through the tears, sniffling some of them back. Sensing they need a break from your gaze, you turn back to the stove and focus on continuing with the meal.

"I… I was okay with it the first week, but when I noticed how much better we've been doing just with Toriel alone, I- I got really, really mad at him! He doesn't care about us anymore, and he left us even before I ran away. If he wants to show he cares, then… Then he has to do something else besides sending you dumb What'sUp messages all the time."

You stop what you're doing again and catch the salt shaker just as it's about to fall into the pot, stew still resting and waiting for you to finish with flavouring it. Thankfully, the safety lock keeps it from making a mess, so you place it back where it was and thank the Heavens you don't have to salvage the food from being oversalted. When you recover, you stop looking at the pot to meet with Frisk's eyes, directing your widened ones at them.

"How do you know that?"

"It's obvious! Your face always gets all scrunched up and grumpy, and the ringtone's different to all the others."

"And what if it's someone else?'

"You don't text anyone else besides auntie and Sans sometimes!"

Their words hit you like a punch to the gut. 

Having your social life summarized so quickly almost makes you wince, and you feel the urge to ground them simply for those words alone, rather than for their earlier conduct regarding how they talked about Jerry. "I'm afraid I'll have to take your own phone away if you keep doing this. I don't know how you even figured all that stuff out, but you know it's not good to sneak up on things like this. You should ask me if you're curious, dear. And... And not just take a look at those messages whenever I'm not around."

"I haven't snooped around! The messages would show they're read, but all the stuff Jerry's sent you's still unread."

You smile and choose not to mention on how they continue to corner themselves the longer they speak, though you do acknowledge their awareness over small details, taking advantage of that by asking, "So that means you've read auntie and Sans's texts?"

They nod, unhesitating. "I know auntie's been telling you to get in touch with friends again. And you have a tour date with Sans this weekend!"

"Tour date where?"

"The Underground!" 

"And besides those two people, who's the last person I texted, and how long ago was it?"

Frisk stays quiet for a while this time, but it's made clear they're only seeking that information from their memory rather than realizing how far they've dug themselves into a hole. "Your coworker was last month, and one of your friends was two months ago." Their response is confident, although it doesn't take longer than a few seconds of silence between you for them to notice their mistakes. You don't say anything and stare at them with squinted eyes and an equally humoured grin, waiting.  "Um…" They can only stare with wide eyes; their body stays still while their mind processes just what exact mistakes were made. "I…"

"Go shower and dress up, dear," you say, biting back your smile. "We'll eat first before we go, and we can talk on the way there."

"To Toriel's place?"

You nod. "It's about time I met her in person rather than calls. And frankly, it's been… really irresponsible of me to let you continue visiting her despite me not being aware of who she is in person. I only allowed it because Serif was there, but after learning about what he did, I really don't want you near him."

"But you guys are going on a date this weekend!"

"If you're smart enough to know opening a message shows you've read it, then I'm sure you know that's not what that word means in that context."

"...What's context?"

"I won't keep playing your game, dear."

"But what if I really don't know what it means?"

"Then you can find it in a dictionary, or you can ask your tutors about it."

"You're being mean!"

"And you're being nosy."

Frisk frowns and crosses their arms. They attempt an angered expression, though it results in a faltering grimace as they try not to let their sadness known. Their lips stay pressed close together and their body shakes, all signs of them wanting to cry their feelings out. Still, they push through and regain some calm through a sigh. "I…" Their tone is just as reluctant as their posture, so you don't pressure and stay quiet. "I'm sorry, (mom/dad)." They let their arms loosen and stare up at you with stern eyes. "I was just worried about you. I… I didn't mean to look through your stuff. And I… I didn't mean to make you angry. I-"

"I'm not angry." You place a hand over their head and smile, tickling the back of their ear and gaining a smile back from them. "But what you did really wasn't right." You pause and take a breath, already weak and dizzied despite it still being one in the afternoon. "And even though there're times where you have to go against the rules, this isn't one of them. You could've gotten into trouble if it was a stranger or someone else, or you could've learned something the wrong way. If you need to know something, you should ask me directly, not just play spy about it. I won't know what's bothering you if you keep hiding it from me and getting your answers like this. Alright?"

Frisk responds with a hug rather than words. Their hold is tight, and they nearly cling onto you, face pressing against your torso as they cry against it. "I'm sorry," they whisper through their sniffles and hiccups, holding on tighter. "I- I… Could you tell me what's making you sad next time, then?"

"Of course, honey." You place a hand against the back of their head and brush your fingers through their hair. "...I should've done that sooner, too." You smile when they let go and meet with their eyes, these red and watery from the recent cry. "Your hair's getting longer," you add, ruffling it up. "Do you wanna cut it, or do you like it this way?"

"I like it this way!" Their words are as bright as their smile, and another look at them reveals a weight's been lifted off their shoulders. "Should I go do my homework now? I wanna stay with you today."

"Sure," you reply, letting your smile grow. "Do what you already know. I'll be there in a few to help you out."

"Thanks, (mom/dad)!"

With that, they stand on their tiptoes and kiss your cheek. Then, they run off to their room, leaving you to finish with the stew.

 • • •

Frisk's return equals to having a cramped calendar, where every single day's marked down with a sticker and a note to remind you over what you have to do.

Still, it doesn't erase the fact you need time for yourself, so you take up Frisk's concern over your health and happiness as advice for you to take better care of yourself. You start by stretching after an hour long nap, drinking some water, and opening up the envelope the two skeleton brothers had given you. Anticipation arrives with the reminder of what Papyrus hinted at about its contents. You tear it open, pull out the first thing you touch, and continue doing so until there's nothing left to take out and place on your nightstand. You then look at all the items laid out and notice that -- besides the business card Papyrus mentioned -- all other items are what he'd informed were from his brother.

Besides Alphys's contact information, there's...

What looks like a bunny-shaped notepad.

Two admission tickets.

A folded paper with some cards stuck to it.

And, as you feared, money.

If Papyrus mentioned only about Alphys's contact information being there, then it's a likelihood to assume the rest is from his older brother.

You take the notepad first and open it to see the first page has already been filled out, and it reads:

"so, uh… hey."

"i'm not too good at writin' letters, but i thought this notepad would be useful now that you're gonna keep a contact list of all the monsters frisk made friends with. i took the liberty of puttin' in the first ten i could think of. start with those first, and don't push yourself too hard."

The fourth and second to last item from the monster is what looks like an agreement letter and a pair of travel visas attached to it. You squint at the tiny lettering and adjust your glasses to begin with the reading.

"With the approval of former Royal Sentry and Judge, Comic Sans Serif, I hereby allow for (miss/mister) (Y/N) (L/N) to traverse the Underground with him by their side. It is important to note these tickets will expire in three days after their initial use, and that another permit would need to be requested if the user so requires to visit the Underground again. I would also like to let known that it was not in my decision to have all these restrictions made, but it has been requested by the government that we restrict access to the Underground until they determine it is safe for humankind to visit. These visas have been given for the sole sake of having both of Frisk's parents well-informed over their child's journey, and said adults' safety should be provided by mister Serif. Any danger they face at the Underground shall be blamed on him for his inability to keep up with the requirements of this agreement, which include providing (miss/mister) (L/N) specifically with both protection and knowledge alike. A second permit has been provided in case that Frisk's other parent decides to accept the offer, as well. – Asgore Dreemurr."

Below all that is a note written with a soft shade of pencil graphite, allowing you to erase it after reading.

"take care, pal."

Ignoring the smile on your face, you proceed to the third item: two admission tickets for what's titled as 'A Spectacular Drama by Mettaton'. Attached to one of them is a second sticky note along with a shorter memo written down on it. It makes sense as to why the agreement letter had a 'take care' on it, given it's the last item you'd pulled out besides the money. Had you checked them all in that order, that last memo would've been a closing of sorts. 

"there's gonna be a big show in two months. dunno if you and your kid celebrate the holiday, but frisk seemed to like snowdin, so i figured they'd also like seeing a whole bunch of events related to that. it says 'drama' only, but that's just mettaton highlightin' what he finds the most important."

"tell me when the time comes if you're up for it. i can help you get to know the guy better before then."

The money's the only thing left and the only one that leaves questions behind. You take the batch and count in hopes of finding some answers, though the longer you do that, the stranger it gets.

20…

40…

60…

80…

100…

That pattern repeats for two more times, making it three-hundred in total. 

Just as you wonder why you've been handed such a large amount, you have the urge to look at yourself in the coffee table's reflection to see you're not exactly looking any better than before.

Both him and his brother had noticed that. It's almost been two weeks, and yet you've still the same tired look to your face. Constant lost hours of sleep, excessive stress, and practicing a poor diet had left almost irreparable damage on your body and mind alike, enough for even non-human people to notice the change. 

All things considered though, how were you supposed to hate an enemy when they acted like this?

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Happy Holidays!

I know times are tougher than ever, but stay strong and remember to practice social distancing if you're making small get-togethers with family/those in your same household, apartment, or campus.

Take care, and stay safe. :-)

(Holiday special incoming soon enough!!)

Tag List

@the-simp-express

(This is a temporary format until I learn more about Tag Lists! I'm a Tumblr noob, lol.)

[isabellitah]

🤍 HARGREEVES x SIBLING

Title : fly high

Pairing : none

Warning : your death- but it’s not completely sad : D

Note : turns out i private posted this last week

you were on your third mission with your siblings- minus Vanya

it was all going so well

until it didn’t

they didn’t see it

not Luther

not Diego

not Allison

not Klaus

not Ben himself

heck-

not even Five saw it

but you did

and so-

you pushed Ben out of the way and got stabbed by a robot right on the abdomen

you felt a sharp pain go through as you were dropped onto the cold harsh floor you before you felt numb

your body felt heavy- yet empty

at first you heard nothing but white noise until it cleared for a second and the last thing you heard were your siblings’ cries and shouts of your name

and then-

nothing

huh…

so this is what dying felt like…

You sighed as you watched Klaus look for another pouch of drugs. You can’t stop him- you never can.

He can see you but for some reason he can’t hear you.

So he always thought of you as some random hallucination that’ll haunt him til the day he dies.

Speaking of death- ever since you died, you’ve always been present. And right before your eyes, you saw your family fall apart. Luther blamed himself for failing you as Number One. Diego blamed himself for not being able to get rid of the robot before it killed you. Allison regrets not being within hearing range of the robot in order to rumor it. Klaus felt guilty for being a coward. Five felt horrible for not getting to you quick enough. Ben felt guilty because he believed that he’s the reason that you died a painful death. Vanya felt horrible for not being there for you.

At first Klaus couldn’t see you. However one day, you were shocked, honestly, when he just stared at you straight in the eyes before calling out your name. You were elated- an entire month later- he finally saw you but as you opened your mouth to speak- you were disappointed and heartbroken to see the hope flash out of his eyes. He couldn’t hear you…

He never told the others that he can see you- it’d just raise their hopes for nothing.

Days later, Five got into an argument with Father and ran out of the house. You tried to follow him but the moment he flashed away, you knew you couldn’t follow him wherever he was and went back home and waited for him. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Years past and everyone moved out of the house. You stayed there years after the last child left, waiting for Five.

When you reached eighteen, however, you decided to move on and look after another sibling.

And you chose Klaus.

Ben was with him for a while when you first arrived, but unfortunately his job later on called for him to leave the country as he was a well-known poet. He was doing so good with Ben around.

But when Ben left, he spiralled not soon after. Ben sent Klaus a monthly allowance that he unfortunately chose to waste on drugs.

It broke your heart to see how much he struggled- to see a hallucination of your dead sister who can’t talk yet hear the angered screams of the souls who weren’t ready for death-

It broke you to see him like that and not be able to help.

Flash forward and here you are back in the home you inhabited for the first eighteen years of your life, alive and dead.

Five just came back and told the family of the impending apocalypse so they readied themselves to do whatever they could to stop it.

As you watched Klaus place the pills in his mouth, in a desperate attempt you called out, “please don’t…”

And he stopped.

He turned to you and gaped.

He spat the pills out and shakily asked you to repeat what you said.

Wait a minute…

Yours eyes widened in realization, “you can hear me?”

“Holy sh- Tee???” when you nodded with tears slowly clouding your eyes, he went towards you without thinking about anything and hugged you.

It’s been years since you felt warmth.

It felt… odd. But it was a good sort of odd.

“I missed you, Klausy.“ you whispered tearily as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. When you actually felt him, you let the tears fall.

A sob wracked through both of your bodies.

“I-I missed you too, Tee. God I can’t believe I can hear and hug you.”

You both stayed in that position for a while before letting the other go to properly look at each other.

“I love you, Klausy,” you whispered, extracting another sob from your emotionally distraught brother.

“Stop it, Eightie,” he sobbed, “my eyeliner’s going to be all ruined now.” to which you playfully rolled your eyes at. He hiccuped before responding, “I love you too.”

A knock startled you both before Ben peeped his head in, looking at Klaus with a curious gaze, “were you talking to someone?”

Realizing this meant you were invincible once again, you sighed but remained hopeful of being able to communicate with your siblings one day.

Now that you knew Klaus could do this, you knew he can be stronger than all your siblings ever thought he could be.

You smiled as you watched Klaus tell Ben of what happened earlier and Ben looked excited to know that there was a possibility that he could talk to you once more. That he could see you again soon.

Ben talked to you while Klaus told him what you said in reply.

While he was tortured by Hazel and Cha-Cha, you could do nothing but watch in horror and cry. Your fists went straight through Hazel’s back no matter how hard you tried. No matter how many time Klaus told you to leave- to avert your eyes- you stayed by his side.

To the future and back home, you never left him. Losing Dave and seeing all the souls lost to war haunted him and worsened his already deteriorating mental health.

But you and Ben- you were both there with him through thick and thin. You and Ben were there for him and helped him through his depression after he lost Dave to war. Neither of you left his side.

Sometimes, while Klaus was asleep, you and Ben laid on a blanket on the floor just talking. Well, Ben talked. And while he couldn’t hear your reply, he carried on talking as though he could until he fell asleep- with you looking after both him and Klaus as night turned to day.

“Hey uhh guys?” Klaus started speaking after much persuasion from you, “maybe I could help.”

“Now is not the time for your jokes, Klaus.” Luther said dismissively, not even glancing at Klaus, and you narrowed your eyes at your eldest brother.

You mumbled under your breath about how much of a rude butthead he was and while Klaus would normally laugh at that, he was too focused on the fact that his heart was beating so fast, afraid of being rejected by his siblings once more. He should be used to it by how many times it’s happened but- he just isn’t. Okay?

So he was shocked when Diego, of all people, disagreed with Luther for him, “no, let him finish. He saved my life today.”

Ben looked at Klaus with a raised eyebrow and seeing his look, Klaus glanced at his left where Ben assumed you were.

“Is that true?” Luther asked, and you bobbed your head up and down so quick even with the knowledge that your siblings - minus Klaus - couldn’t see you, Klaus was shocked to see you didn’t get whiplash. Can ghosts even get whiplash? Anyway, he faced his siblings ahead of him and took a deep breath before answering.

They either believe him or don’t. Who cares- he knows he’s telling the truth. And Ben believes him so that’s two siblings on his side. And that’s okay. You two are enough to make him feel loved and enough.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,“ he let out a shuddering breath, “I did take credit for that. When in fact, the real hero was Eightie.”

You felt your heart sunk as your siblings - minus Ben - looked at Klaus with varying degrees of unamusement. Five even looked pissed at him.

Klaus hurried to continue. “Today…listen. T-.” be stuttered, losing the confidence he had to talk the more that he processed his siblings’ faces. “Ben knows she’s here- th-they talked before! A-and earlier at the house, she saved Diego’s life, not me. I swe-.”

“You are unbelievable, Klaus.” Luther said, looking at Klaus with an expression eerily similar to the one Reginald used to give Klaus as a child and hearing Klaus’ whimper was your breaking point.

You felt your blood boil at the injustice your brother received from his own brother.

“You want proof, is that it?” Klaus asked, looking at you for confirmation. And when you nodded he continued speaking, “all right! I’ll give you proof. Right- it’s showtime, Tee!” Klaus picked up a bowling ball, hefting it in his hands with a pleading look in his eye directed towards you.

God, he hoped his powers don’t fail him now.

You took a deep breath before positioning yourself to catch it. As Klaus let the ball up in the air, you prayed that you’d be able to catch it. Catching things were never your strong point and a bowling ball to your toes did not sound pleasant, at all. You blinked in surprise as you felt something heavy land in your hands. Looking down- holy- you caught it!

“Klausy, look-” your cheer was cut short by the gasps from your other siblings- oh yeah, they can see you now.

Your eyes widened and a shock expression took over your facial features as the process sunk in.

They can see you now!

You looked down at the hot pink colored ball with a shocked look, before grinning from ear to ear, “Klausy, look! I did it! You did it! We did it!”

Klaus’ mouth was open in awe. “Yeah… Yeah, we did.” He moved towards you, took the ball from your hands, deposited it back on the ball rack he took it from, and drew you into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of us, Tee.”

Luther paled as he stared at the sight in front of him in shock.

Diego was torn between shock and happy.

Allison was covering her mouth with tears in her eyes.

Five looked genuinely surprised and had nothing sarcastic to say for once.

Ben looked both happy and proud.

Klaus has been trying to get you to tangible for weeks now and finally, you were once again. And just in time to show off to the others, too.

“How is this possible?” Diego asked as you made your way over to Ben and proceeded to hug him.

“Well, dad mentioned that I had only begun scratching the surface of my powers. I think there’s a lot that I haven’t figured out how to do yet.”

“I missed you, Benny,”

He huged you tighter to himself, “I missed you too, Eightie.”

“I’m so fucking so-”

“Stop right there. It’s not your fault, okay? Nothing is. I did what I believed to be right, and I don’t regret it- and neither should you.”

You both continued hugging one another before letting go to approach Allison.

You smiled at her and wiped the tears falling from her eyes, watching as her lips mouthed your name over and over again.

“Hi, Alli…” you chuckled tearily before pulling her into a hug, “I missed you so much.”

She clung to you tightly and you could feel her tears dripping onto your blouse as her sobs shook her body in your arms.

It was disheartening to be reminded of the fact that now that she can see you, you can’t hear her talk to you directly.

After a few moments, perhaps minutes even, you pulled away so you could go hug and have a little chat with your remaining siblings, “at least I’m still older than someone, huh,” you said, nudging Five with your elbow and grinning at him causing him to grace with his rare scowl. It was rare because it had no bite to it- it was more of a fond scowl. He squinted his eyes at you for a bit before replying, “I’m 58, Tee, I just look 13.”

“Oh, I know. I was there when you told everyone of your adventure,” you shrugged before wrapping your arms around his waist, “good to have you back, Fivey.”

“I still detest that nickname…” Five hesitated for a quick second before wrapping his arms around you, “but I guess if it’s you, it’s okay.” it was such a good moment until- “at least I’m still taller than you, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” you giggled as he chuckled, “I missed you, Fivey… I love you, you know that, right?”

“I missed you too, Tee, and yeah- but it’s good to be reminded every once in a while.”

You parted from him, which he hesitantly did so, before walking towards Diego. You weren’t surprised when he pulled you into a hug so high that it lifted your feet off of the ground. “It’s so good to see you again, Eightie.” you smiled as you felt tears start to cloud your eyes once more, “it’s good to see you too, Dee. I missed you all so much- it was so hard being able to see you but not being able to talk to you.”

When Diego set you down, you started walking your way over to Luther. He still looked shocked and a tad pale to see you right in front of and walking towards him.

“Eightie… I-” you cut him off, “I want to say aomething before we continue with this little reunion, okay?” Luther’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes slightly widened at the authoritative yet soft tone your voice took, “This goes for all of you- but especially you, Luther. Stop doubting Klaus. Stop discouraging him. Stop belittling him. Instead, listen to him. Give him a chance- and start respecting him. He’s done more than enough to deserve it and you all know it.”

“Awww! Thank you, Eightie!” said man-child blew a kiss accompanied by a wink in your direction.

“Right. You’re right.” Luther agreed before turning to Klaus, “Klaus… I’m sorry for doubting you and for not giving you a shot.”

Diego was quick to chime in, “me too.”

“Me three.” Five sent a small smile in Klaus’ direction.

Allison raised her hand in as a way of saying “me four.”.

Ben looked at Klaus before smiling, “I had faith in you- but I am sorry for not being here sooner to help you.” to which Klaus smiled at him then proceeded to hug him, “thanks for not leaving my side.”

You grinned at the moment shared between the two brothers, “Okay… Now that that’s out of the way…” you wrapped your arms around Luther’s waist the best you could, “I missed you too, Luthy.”

Suddenly, you disappeared from his embrace and your siblings looked around worriedly before they noticed that Klaus passed out in Ben’s arms. Ben carefully sat him on the nearest chair available- which wasn’t far at all.

“To make Eightie tangible once more… it must’ve used up a lot of his energy,” Five murmured before walking over to his passed out brother and made sure his chest was still rising and falling in pattern.

“Well what do we do now that he’s unconscious?” asked Luther to which Ben replied, “we’ll let him rest for a bit- maybe half an hour then get him some cheesy fries or nachos or something. That should make him bounce back pretty quick.”

“Did someone say fries?” Klaus asked groggily, his hand resting on his head trying to get the pounding to stop.

Diego grinned, approached him and placed his hand on his shoulder, “one order of cheesy fries with cucumber lemonade- comin right up.”

The moment Klaus made you visible to the land of the living once more, you immediately washed at least half of the masked men out of the building by torpedo-ing the ones in front and near you away. With that done, you immediately made your way towards Vanya. You two had always been close- close enough that you can call yourselves each other’s best friend, and you hoped that that would help you in convincing her to stop. You didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to either her or your other siblings; they all deserved to live long, happy lives.

You stopped in front of her and smiled softly, “hi, V,” her impassive look melted into one of confusion, “Eightie…? How are you here?” her hand slowly stopped playing on the violin.

“Klaus learned a new trick recently. Amazing, isn’t it?” your eyes shined with so much excitement that all Vanya could say was, “yeah…” you could see the tears glistening in her eyes, “it’s amazing, Eightie…” you missed your best friend and you knew she felt the same way as neither of you got to see each other the day you died as you all left for the mission way before Vanya left her room to start her day. You gently placed a hand on her arm, “V, please- you need to stop playing.” some of the steel returned to her eyes, and you’re first thought was that that didn’t belong in Vanya’s eyes- Vanya’s eyes are warm- never cold, “this was supposed to be my moment, Eightie. I just wanted one accomplishment of my own- one thing I could be proud of.”

“And you should be, V. You should be proud of yourself and of what you do. You sound so amazing- your tunes and timing are in sync and it’s just absolutely soothing to hear you play your melody,” you said before frowning, “I know that this whole newly awakened powers thing must be scary for you, but if you stop playing and lower your violin, we can help you, V. We’ll help you learn how to understand and control your powers. And we’ll be patient with you and not treat you like an experiment unlike what father would’ve done- had done.”

Vanya was openly sobbing now as she voiced her concern, “what if they can’t be controlled- what if I’m just a monster?” she looked down at the ground and lowered her hands until they rested at her sides.

You cupped her cheeks in your palms and forced her to look at you in the eyes, “Vanya Hargreeves- you are the kindest one out of all of us, okay? You always have been. Trust me when I say this- you could never be a monster. And I know this as not only your sister, but also your best friend.”

Vanya’s shoulders sagged as she felt all the tension leave her body causing her violin to drop onto the floor, “I’m sorry, Tee, I- I’m so sorry…” she murmured as she hugged you and tucked her face into the crook of your neck.

You hugged her before reassuring her, “it’s gonna be okay, V. We’re going to be okay.” you tightened arms around her as she started trembling against you as you felt more tears against your neck, you felt your heart break for your sister. Vanya never deserved any of this- to be secluded from everyone when she had no powers only to be pushed away now that she discovered her powers, “come over here,” You said, waving your siblings over, “and join in on comforting V.”

“I, for one, never wished for you to be either secluded or locked up, Vanya- you’re my sister,” said Five as he jumped near you. He suprisingly joined the hug willingly, wrapping his arms around you both the best he could, “and believe it or not- I do love you both.”

“Awww! Who knew Fivey had a soft spot in his wittle black heart- don’t glare at me like that- I’m just kidding- I know you love me too,” Klaus said as he and Ben joined in the group hug, “And I think it’s safe to say that none of us wanted you locked up.” to which Ben added, “We love you so much, Vanny.” and as Vanya opened her mouth to reply, Diego and Allison also joined in the group hug, “Klaus’ right, Vanya, none of us wanted you trapped in there. Also, Allison wants you to know that we love you, ‘kay?” Vanya chuckled through blurry eyes lined wih tears, “I-I know that now and I really appreciate it- I-I love you guys. All of you.”

You all looked towards Luther who stood a few steps away from your group hug. He was shifting from one foot to the other as his face showed how uncomfortable he felt. He took a deep breath, “I messed up, Vanya- I- I know that I shouldn’t have tried to kill you nor should I have locked you up. I wasn’t thinking straight- that’s not an excuse but- I should have tried to help you understand what was going on instead of harming you. I’m so sorry.” Vanya saw how apologetic he looked and gave him a soft smile, “I’ll forgive you, Luther… As long as you forgive me.” Luther smiled as he approached your group and wrapped his arms around all of you, “deal; love you, Vanny.” Vanya smiled, “I love you too, Luther. All of you, really… And thank you.”

It took a few years but- Vanya finally felt accepted for who she was, felt included and loved in her own family. You smiled as you felt a tingling sensation- you can now finally move on knowing that you did what you were meant to do.

For the first time in years, you were all complete and happy together… Unfortunately, it’d be the last time you experience it with them. They didn’t even notice you were no longer there until they broke apart. And they didn’t even notice that they’d never see you again until Klaus mentioned your absence for the past few days.

Then and there it clicked in their minds… You never moved on until you were sure that they were together and happy- like a real family. You made sure that none of them were ever going to be alone, ever again.

‘Typical Eightie… we’ll miss you… and we love you… fly high, Tee.’