#john is a mole covered baby
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i really liked drawing my ocs' side profiles so i did some of the babies as babies. not very good at realistic skin shading 😬👍
#sigh... found family trope#you can always rely on me for liking 3 things; precanon rdr2 + modern au rdr2 + irony#arthur's freckles <3#tilly could definitely write perfectly at 13#john is a mole covered baby#like a tortilla#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#my art#john marston#rdr2 fanart#arthur morgan#rdr2 john marston#red dead redemption#tilly jackson#rdr2 precanon#rdr2 headcanons#rdr2 art#rdr2 arthur morgan
710 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm pouring a bit of my own experience in this but in my country children under 12 can't enter the maternity (?) ward where they keep the babies because there's danger of them carrying a contagious child disease. I was 9 when my sister was born and had to wait for her to come home 4-5 days later to properly see her. So I'm working on the assumption that Mary gave birth in a hospital and this rule applied for this post.
Daddy brought a polaroid of little Sammy back the night of the first day Mommy was at the hospital. Dean had spent the day nagging Miss Franklin (his babysitter) the whole day about wanting to see Sammy.
When Daddy showed him the photograph, Dean thought Sammy was the most beautiful baby in the world (even if his hair was still covered in slick) and he pestered Daddy the entire night about letting him come along the next day to meet his brother.
John brought him to the hospital and asked the nurse at the main desk to keep a look for him. Dean was giddy. A while later Mommy came down to see him and Dean noticed how her tummy wasn't as swollen anymore.
"Where's Sammy?"
"You can't see him yet, baby." Mary soothed and kissed Dean's forehead.
Dean stomped and pouted all the way home. He stole the new polaroids from Daddy and stared at them for hours under the covers of his bed, pretending he was sleeping. Sammy was crying all the time in the photographs.
Sammy had a little mole on his cheek and Dean was oddly fascinated by it. He wanted to give it a kiss. Maybe then Sammy would stop crying. Did Mommy and Daddy kiss him enough?
He spent another two days at home with his babysitter or at the main desk in the hospital.
He was at home when they finally brought Sammy to him. Dean heard his wails all the way from the garage. He run to the door and waited for his parents to bring Sammy in.
If Dean had any doubt about Sammy being the prettiest baby, it was all gone when he saw Sammy up close.
"Can I hold him? Can I hold him? Please Mommy?"
Mary smiled wryly.
"Don't you want me to calm him down first? So he's not crying?"
"Wanna hold him!"
Mary nodded and guided Dean to the armchair. She put a pillow on his lap and instructed him on how to hold Sammy properly.
Sammy was still crying when she put him on the pillow. Dean didn't care.
"Hiya, Sammy."
At the sound of his voice, Sammy's crying settled a bit as he looked over at Dean. His eyes were a greyish green.
Dean leaned down and landed a soft kiss on Sammy's mole.
Sammy stopped crying. Instead he tried to grab Dean's hair with his tiny hands. Dean let him.
"Well, I will be damned." John exhaled from the door. "He stopped crying."
"Guess he just wanted his big brother." Mary chuckled.
Mommy and Daddy kept talking after that. Dean didn't listen to them though. His whole attention was on Sammy who held onto Dean's hair and fell asleep in his arms. Dean planted another kiss on Sammy's cheek and whispered.
"Sleep well, Sammy. 'm gonna watch over you."
#mommy dean headcanons#mommy dean monday#gencest#samdean#spn#supernatural#mother dean winchester#got weirdly emotional over this#i sure projected the frustration of not being able to meet my sis right away xD#the rest is purely dean and sam being weirdos since infanthood tho
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here’s a little preview of everyone’s favorite Tamagotchi Daddy 😚 and an appearance at the end by your fave bartender.
Whatta Man Masterlist | Rick’s Party Playlist
as a reminder my blog is 18 +
Sheer curtains sway with a pink glow from the flashing sign outside your apartment, the nip in the October air makes goosebump dance across your exposed skin from the crack in your bedroom window. The summer heat came and went like it always does but not the cute bouncer you took home the first warm night of the year.
Weckx-N-Effect’s ‘Rump Shaker’ spills through the boombox in your living room where Steve stands in front of your long mirror, dressed as John Dalton from Road House, you hear the pitch in his voice deepen,
“Take the biggest guy in the world, shatter his knee and he’ll drop like a stone.”
Rolling your eyes at the line you’ve heard both him and Patrick Swayze deliver all week long, you adjust the white and blue trimmed high waisted basketball shorts that hug your curves before tugging down the cropped Tune Squad mesh tank that matches. Straightening your bunny ears, you turn around to inspect your tail, bubble gum pink glossed lips turning up into a pleased smirk with the height the white platform sneakers on your feet give you. Humming in approval because you know Baby Spice would be proud, your shoulders wiggle in excitement as you apply another layer of gloss before smacking your lips loudly.
“Hey Doc, you got the goods earlier right?” The bouncer calls out.
His boots sound heavy on your shag rug making his way towards the bathroom and even though you saw his outfit earlier, when Steve’s handsome face appears next to yours in the mirror with a wide grin, you still flutter around nothing. Dark emerald eyes turn black as they drink in your costume, and you're almost positive yours look the same admiring the thick patch of hair on full display in his white loose fitting button up. Long sleeves rolled up to his elbows with the top three undone just like Dalton’s.
The extra button reveals more than usual, including the silver chain that dangles from his neck. It shines under the dark curls that cover his chest when it hits the bright lights above you, matching the belt buckle attached to the black leather that holds his tight fitting jeans to his waist. The ivory of his shirt makes his permanently sunkissed skin glow, thighs pressing together when he licks his full lips, moles moving with his cheeks when he grins.
“Jesus, you look - fuck, why’s the tail doing it for me?” Finally breaking character, he runs a hand through his hair, the ring wrapped around his middle finger catching your eye in his reflection.
“Stop calling me that or everyone is going to think I’m Bugs Bunny.” You huff and his lips twitch at your pout, “and if by goods you mean, the Roadhouse soundtrack, yes I picked it up from your friend Robin.”
Turning around, you lean against the sink, the reminder of your promise to recreate the sex scene with him tonight has you giving him an extra exaggerated roll of your eyes, a smile lighting up your face despite yourself. Steve’s big black boots cross the threshold, thick rubber soles squeaking against the rose colored tile, he closes the small distance to stand in front of you.
The warm smell of his Calvin Klein CK One cologne lingers fresh on the cotton of his shirt, along with the faint hint of your hairspray when he stole a spritz when he first got to your apartment. The cinnamon from his Big Red is hot on his breath, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin as he pushes the gum to the other side of his mouth with a tongue that was between your thighs just a few hours ago.
“I’m sorry baby, I’ll stop. I can’t help it when I’m in character you know?” One of his big hands comes up to your face, long fingers spreading across your jaw tilting your mouth towards his. The bouncer takes in your done up features in the light, and the pucker of your glittery lips, looking at him like you needed to be kissed. “No one is going to think a pretty thing like you is anything other than hot.”
“Good.” You try to say it with more conviction, but the way he keeps looking at you like he wants to eat you alive makes it come out quiet.
“Oh yeah?” He questions with a quirked brow, his boots moving the one step left to stand in the space you made for him between your legs. The tip of his nose runs along the bridge of yours, his other hand finding a new home on the plush curve of your hip to pull you even closer. The denim doing nothing to hide just how much your outfit was affecting him.
“I’m gonna have to follow you around all night aren’t I? Gonna make me abuse my power and kick anyone out who even looks at my girl like they got a chance huh?” Steve mutters his threat against your lips, the tips of his fingers digging into the dip in your cheeks bringing your mouth to his.
The strawberry of your gloss is sweeter than it was thirty minutes ago and it makes him groan when his kiss turns possessive, tongues meeting in the middle when he licks into your mouth. Your hands find their way to his chest, your palms finding the warm skin of his chest, the blunt ends of your nails dragging through the dark thatch of hair. He nips at your bottom lip when he lets you go. Pink glitter staining his when he pulls away sticky, eyes blown wide feeling the way your leg starts to lift over his hip, daring him to come back for more.
He tuts at you with whatever self control he has left, letting his hungry gaze drop down to drink up every dip and soft curve on display for him. Your back arches under the heat of it and Steve catches the puffy tail resting perfectly on the curve of your ass in the reflection. His responsibility to get downstairs in five minutes doesn’t seem so important anymore.
“I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you.” He sounds almost angry, and pride swells in your chest.
His hand slides from your waist, fingertips tips dragging down the soft dough of your thigh making the hem of your shorts bunch up when he hooks them under your knee. He accepts your dare with a roll of his hips, his grin turning salacious when you gasp.
“That’s kinda the point, duh” the giggle that leaves your mouth is breathy as he ducks his head down to the crook of your neck to suck a fresh bruise where the previous one he left last week is almost healed, “oh my godddd.”
His lips curve against you, the hint of stubble along his jaw tickles as he makes his way with greedy lips to all the sensitive spots he’s discovered over the last few months, including the new one he found the other night right below your ear. He nips at the soft skin when your fingers tangle themselves into his hair with a harsh tug at his roots, the back of your calf pressing against his ass encouraging him more.
“Earlier wasn’t enough, my girl needs more attention doesn’t she?” His taunting comes out next to the shell of your ear, the deep baritone making you shiver. “It’s only been a few hours and you want me that bad again, huh?”
Your eyes hit the back of your head when he rolls your earlobe between his teeth. Another tug to his hair, a whine pushing past your pink lips trying to get more of anything he’ll give you.
“Come on baby, don’t be shy.” He hums pulling away from your neck, finally letting go of your face to squeeze at the fat of your ass propped on the sink, long fingers playing with your tail. “Tell me, I wanna hear it.”
The song on the radio changes, and Mase’s ‘What You Want’ encourages the next grind of your hips.
“Gonna make me beg for it Steve?” You pout looking up at him from under your lashes, relishing in the way you feel him twitch in his jeans at the thought. One of your hands trails down the muscles of his stomach, biting your lip when they twitch under your fingertips, adding more to the growing problem in your underwear.
The incessant high pitch beeping of both your tamagotchi’s cuts through the tension like a knife, making both of you freeze and you catch the way his eyes widen, the color coming back at the realization of their need to be fed.
“Steve, I swear to god-“ Your disbelief is quickly cut off by the bellowing voice of a certain bartender from outside your window.
“Hey! Asshole! I know you’re up there. Get your dick in your pants and get down here and help! It’s fucking Halloween!”
Eddie sounds like he’s already at his wits end, and you swear you hear him say ‘before I fuckin’ kill Rick’ as the bar door creaks open before slamming shut behind him.
#my writing#whatta man#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagines#bouncer!steve
285 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stumbling West
Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Chapter 29
Warranted Vexation
i.e. Season 11 Episode 9
TW: typical criminal minds case jargon. a tiny bit of angst because reader is mad at Aaron for a second. talks of pregnancy, some nice little fluff in here for reader and Aaron along with some Penelope Garcia love.
AN: Here we go :) You get to find out what reader is having in this episode. I was going to do the reveal the way I did for Charlotte but decided against it. The chapter was already getting a little “wordy” in my opinion. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)
word count: 3,076
Series Masterlist
“The NSA and the DEA are both involved, so we’ll be part of a joint Taskforce. Go ahead, Garcia.” Aaron informs the team in the conference room and giving Garcia orders to start the debrief.
“Ok. Uh, 3 weeks ago undercover DEA agent Mark Bowers disappeared.” She brings the pictures onto the screen, “His body was found 5 days ago in Ciudad Juarez.”
“Ciudad Juarez is one of the most dangerous cities in the world.” Tara comments.
“Not only was agent Bowers found strangled, but he also had another human face covering his face.” Garcia continues.
“Another human face?” JJ questions, not believing she heard right.
Garcia grimaces, “Yes. I guess skinned or scalped. I don't know what you call it, but I couldn't put the pictures up here. You can see them on your own tablets.”
“It is typical for drug cartels to send a message through the corpse.” You suggest, choosing to not look at the pictures on the tablet, you'll let the rest of the team handle that.
“Yeah, body parts sent to family members.” Tara agrees.
“A face on top of another face could easily mean he’s undercover or he’s two-faced.” JJ theorizes.
Aaron sighs next to you, “Which is back news for the two missing agents. They were both undercover.”
“Yeah,” Garcia pulls up there pictures, “John Portman vanished a week ago. And then Sarah Miles disappeared yesterday. All of these agents were investigating the Libertad Drug Cartel.”
“If someone knew that they were undercover, then there has to be a mole on the inside.” Derek informs.
“Well,” Aaron says, “We have to consider all possibilities.” The way he says it has you believing he’s holding something back. And based off of how Rossi continues to study the tablet, you conclude that he is aware of whatever it is. “This cartel is, in fact, unique in a few ways.”
Garcia hums, “It appeared on the darkness after the Silk Road was shut down. It has online and an on-the-ground component based in El Paso. It’s run by someone named George Washington.”
“An identity that can be assumed by different individuals.” Aaron states.
“El Paso’s just across the Rio Grande from some of the worst drug violence there is.” Rossi finally looks up, “Not a bad place to set up.”
“it would be easy to fly under the radar when there’s bigger fish to fry right down the road.” You shrug.
“All right. You’ll all head to El Paso and find out what happened to the missing agents.” Aaron orders the team, before turning to you, “You’ll stick with me, I’ll run the cyber part of the investigation from here.”
You are just almost exactly 24 weeks along, but with you having twins, you are showing more like 31 or 32 weeks. The doctor told you at your last appointment that, although your baby boys are very healthy, your body is working a little more than usual and putting a little bit more stress on you. So she recommended that you start taking it easier. Resting more, not standing for long periods, and talked about maybe not flying around as much, only going on the plane during the smaller flights.
You’re little family was very excited about finding out it was twin boys. Jack jumped for joy about getting two brothers, while Charlotte, still a little young to understand exactly what was going on, was excited because her older brother was. You and Aaron didn’t have a huge preference, but a part of you thinks twin boys might be a little easier, considering how Aaron lets Charlotte get away with everything. Then again, he also lets Jack get away with everything.
Aaron took what the doctor said about flying, to mean no flying at all. Him practically benching you and making you consult from quantico on the last case caused a fight, one that would have probably been avoided had your husband consulted you before making the decision. If your honest, you are still a little peeved with his decision, but will admit to yourself it was nice to sleep in your own bed and be with the kids at night. Not mentioning you are extremely more tired this pregnancy. You did not give these points to Aaron, not wanting him to have more leverage over his decision. It wasn't about him being right, it was about not including you.
“Happy hunting.” Rossi comments to Aaron, though you hear it to. You send Aaron a look that translates to ‘What’s that about?’ but he just discreetly shakes his head at you, ‘not here’.
You and Aaron get off the elevator on the DEA cyber floor, a man walking up to you both, “You must be Agent Hotchner and.. Agent Hotchner?”
You smile, giving him your maiden name, “I use that at work, keeps things from being confusing.”
“Ah.” He nods his head, “My apologies.” You wave him off as Aaron shakes his hand, “I’m Assistant DEA Director Bernard Graff. Welcome to the cyber war against drugs.”
He starts walking down the hall, you and Aaron following behind him, “We could always use the extra help, but I’m surprised the NSA puled you into this. Aren't you busy hunting psychopaths who cut up prostitutes or something?”
“Well, we have a case and there may be some cross-over.” Aaron replies.
“You mean, Giuseppe Montolo and the other online hit men.” Graf comments.
“Yes. We’re interested in whoever the successor to The Silk Road may be, and Libertad seems to fit the bill.” Aaron looks around before stopping to look at Graff.
You watch both men size each other up, and you can’t help but feel there both looking for the same thing, the same tell, though you aren't sure what for.
Graff crosses his arms over his chest, “Well, if you ask me the NSA’s got it easy. All they do is monitor and analyze. But when it comes to putting away the bad guys, you and I have to do all the dirty work. Isn’t that right?”
Before Aaron has a chance to answer him, two people come out of an office, arguing.
“It’s not related.” A woman in a white cardigan tells the man that formed out of the office before her.
The man turns around to face her, “Are you kidding me? My best friend did not just have a hiking accident. I’m out of here.”
“Well, he seemed upset.” Graff comments once the mans left the room, storming out of the building. He turns towards the woman, “”This is Adrienne Mitchell, our head Libertad intelligence specialist.”
He introduces her, shaking both you and Aaron’s hand.
“The man that just left was our confidential informant, Simon Kahn.” Graf informs.
Mitchell looks to the door where Simon stormed out, “He just learned his friend died. I’ll give him some space, then we talk to him again.”
“Our specialists have been posing online as buyers and dealers. We made contact with Simon 5 months ago, who alerted us to the hybrid nature of Libertad.” Graff supplies. You listen intently as you notice Aaron watching both Graff’s and Mitchell’s body language, you know he is profiling them, you just don’t know why.
“He’s a tor network relay operator for them. He wants out but claims he’s not being allowed to quit.” Mitchell continues to inform you of Simon.
“Is he being threatened?” You ask.
Graff shrugs, “Apparently, but we haven't seen the evidence.”
“Does he know who the head of the cartel is?” Aaron questions.
Graff and Mitchell share a look, Graff speaking up, “The real I.D. of George Washington? No. But he does know the number two.”
“Took months to get him to come in.” Mitchell sighs, “He was close to giving us a name, but now he’s scared again.”
“I’d like to get my own analyst on this, if you don’t mind.” Aaron asks, though, it doesn't really come out as a question, “She’ll work out of the BAU.”
“By all means.” Graff replies before looking to an agent across the room, “Jack, do you mind showing them where they can set up, please.”
Aaron thanks him as you and him go to follow the agent. As you walk away, you see Graff and Mitchell turn away from you both. Aaron doesn't seem to be the only one hiding something.
You walk back into the conference room you and Aaron were given for the case and catch the end of the phone conversation Aaron was having, “No, but something’s definitely wrong.” He turns and notices your presence, hanging up the phone with a short, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Who was that?” You question, setting the case files on to the table.
“Rossi.” He answers, looking to the case board and avoiding your eye.
You hum your response, not knowing if you want to start a conversation that could turn into an argument before even finishing the current one.
You sit down and go over the files again, along with the files Garcia fazed over. You don’t find anything new.
“Are you listening?” You hear Aaron question.
You look up to him, brows furrowed, “What?” You shake your head, clearing your mind, “Sorry, I was’t— what were you saying?”
Aaron frowns, “I asked if you found anything new.”
“No.” You shake your head, going back to the file you were looking at before the interruption.
You hear him let out a deep sigh but don’t look back up. Only when he whispers your name softly do you tear your eyes away from the paper you weren't reading.
“Are you still upset with me?”
“I’m not upset.” You tell him, your face void of any defining emotion.
He raises an eyebrow at you, “That’s what you say when you're mad at me.”
You roll your eyes at him, “O’m not angry at you Aaron, I’m frustrated. There’s a difference.”
“The doctor suggested you take a step back from flying.” His voice is still low, but you can hear the defending tone of his actions behind it.
“No, she suggested, that I start taking a small step back on the longer flights, not just flying in general.” Your voice still calm.
Aaron crosses his arms, still standing by the case board, making him look down at you. You feel like a kid getting reprimanded, and that does not help with you patience. “So you are mad.” He states.
“No, Aaron.” Your voice raises slightly, “I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated because you made the decision without consulting me. Do I believe it was the right one to make, yes. But it wasn't only yours to make. You should have discussed it with me in private before announcing it to the team.”
Aaron’s lips go into a straight line as he closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, he drops his arms, face softening, “I’m sorry I didn’t consult it with you. I was under the impression we were on the same page.”
You nod your head a few times, letting your hormones calm down. Although your vexation towards him was warranted, you didn't like arguing with him, and the past week you both have been walking on egg shells, neither of you wanting to fight. You really don’t like your frustration turning to angry stares and raised voices. “Thank you.” You tell him gently
You study him for a few moments in silence, “What aren't you telling me about this case?”
Aaron shakes his head at you slowly, eyes going to the door. You get the hint, he doesn't want to discuss it here. You gather up the files, “Theres nothing here, I should head back to the BAU and help Garcia out.”
Aaron helps you with the bags, “I’ll drive you. I need to talk to her anyway, see what she has so far.”
Once you both get into the car, Aaron starts driving, turing on the radio before he speaks, “NSA believes there is a mole.”
You study him from your seat, “And you think it’s Graff?”
“Yes.”
You nod your head, taking in what he said and trying to go over your interaction with Graff and Mitchell from earlier. You purse your lips, “Any reason why?”
“You think I’m wrong?” He asks, glancing over at you.
You shrug, “He seemed as skeptical of you, as you did of him.”
Aaron’s brows draw down, and you know he’s stuck in his head. You lightly touch his shoulder, “All I’m saying is you could be wrong. Don’t let whoever told you of the mole make the judgment for you.”
Aaron drops you off at the BAU, wanting to talk to Graff some more. You head to Penelope’s office.
“Sunshine!” She exclaims to you the moment you walk in, getting up and dragging you to one of the big, comfy chairs she has in her office. You laugh as she drags over another one and outs it opposite of you, “For your feet!”
“I’m fine, Penelope, thank you though.” You smile at her.
“Well, it’s there if you need it.” She goes to sit back at her computer. “I’ve been trying to find some sort of evidence linking the first unsub to the DEA agents but I’m not finding anything.” She tells you.
“Hmmm.” You hum. “The first kill is the most important, but the second tells the story.”
“What do you mean by that?” Garcia questions.
You put your feet up on the chair, “Well, the first kill can usually help us identify their type or where their desire comes from kind of like a base line. Their second gives us a routine and a signature to look for.” You look over to her, “Are we sure his ‘first kill’ was his first? The victimology is almost the exact same except he wasn't an undercover agent.”
She starts typing on her computer, “I’ve check national police reports, nothing about a face on a face.”
You sit and think for awhile, knowing you're missing something. “Did you check across the boarder? One of the bodies was found in Mexico, maybe he didn't start in the US.”
You watch her start typing on her computer again. “Ah!” She happily screams, “You, my sunny little mama friend, are a genius! You should get a raise.”
Laughing at her words you listen to her explain the serial killer investigation in Ciudad Juarez. Derek calls her and your phone rings while she’s informing the team of what you both found. You look down, seeing it’s Aaron, and move to the hallway to answer it, “What’s up?”
“Are you with Garcia?” He asks you. You can hear some sort of underlining of anxiety in his voice, but know you can’t question it. Not now.
“Yeah, I just stepped out to answer.”
Aaron sighs, “Good. Stay there.”
“You good?” You question him, biting your lip from wanting to ask if he’s safe or where he is.
“Yes. I need to go do something and then I’ll head to you.”
“Alright.” You nod your head, even though he can’t see you, “Love you.”
“I love you too.” He hangs up the phone. You wait a few seconds, getting your bearings back and putting on a calm face before going back into Garcia’s office. That girl might not be a profiler, but she knows how to read her team.
“So, Director Cochran, was the mole?” You question Aaron in his office the next night.
“Yeah. Didn't see that one coming either.” He sighs. He looks to you, sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk. A small smile graces his features and he reaches his hand out to you, “Come here.”
You push yourself up with a grunt, both of you laughing, your belly seems to actually be growing by the day. Walking around his desk, he pushes his chair out a little and grabs your hand in his, pulling you into his lap. You huff at him, “Aaron, I’m going to squish you.”
“No, you won’t.” He wraps his arms around you as you sit sideways on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder once you stop fighting him, deciding to just relax. He kisses your temple, “I just want to hold you, you brat.”
You giggle at that, raising your head enough to make eye contact with him. He smiles at you, one of his genuine smiles you usually only see him sport at home. You lean up enough for him to get the hint, his lips meeting yours softly in a sweet and loving embrace.
His cell phone rings, making him pull back with a sound of annoyance, answering it with a pout, “Hotchner.”
You close your eyes and relax fully into him, being lulled by his voice as he talks to Rossi. He pats you on the thigh when he hangs up, “Lets go see Garcia.”
Both of you go to the room she is staying in, until the ‘dirty dozen’ is taken care of, watching as she paces around, trying to make her living situation more comfortable. You know she is struggling, and it’s evident in her wavering voice.
Aaron is about to suggest the both of you go home when she turns towards you, “Hey, I’m gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner. Do you want one?”
You and Aaron share a look, and you know he won’t say no to her. It’s one of the things that made you fall in love with him, how deeply he cares for his team.
“Well,” He says still looking at you, giving you a chance to say no if you wanted, “Jack and Charlotte are already in bed…”
You turn towards her, “You have jalapeños” You ask. They have been one of your biggest cravings with this pregnancy.
Garcia pats her tear stained face, drying the remnants away, “Uh, I’m sorry. Do— Do I have ja—“ She walks over to a drawer pulling it open.
You send a wink to Aaron as he shakes his head back with a smirk, both of you turning your attentions back to Garcia.
“I want you to know, I have had a love affair with all things spicy and hot since I was, like, 12.”
Aaron grabs the bowl and cutting board from her as you go to sit in one of the chairs, watching as he cuts them and she starts the eggs.
As you watch the both of them do their jobs, joking and laughing, you rub your growing belly with both hands, feeling, deep in your bones, that everything’s gonna be alright.
*******
taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @averyhotchner @rousethemouse @malindacath @buckyswintersoldiermask @floweringashore
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#bau reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner story#aaron hotchner x reader story#aaron hotchner x reader fanfic
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I'm watching The Alienist- Angel of Darkness, and I keep thinking of a fic where laszlo's wife!reader just gave birth and this case worries the poor man more than usual, because their baby is in danger and he can't get into the assassin's mind. Perhaps the reader could offer to breastfeed laszlo, and they have an in-depth conversation about the workings of the killer's mind and why the reader herself enjoys nurturing her husband. Perhaps it would even become a habit after the case was solved and every time Doctor Kreizler wanted some milk, he would let her know with a touch just below her breast that would go unnoticed in public as a gesture of affection? I think I thought about it too much, what do you think about writing about it?
The Marriage of Happiness [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: erotic lactation, breastfeeding kink, mention of other kinks and of murder
A/N: What do I think about writing it? I think THANKY YOU because I could write Laszlo having a boobie obsession for the rest of my life. I do think about it daily and it is just THE kink for him (as poor @cazzyimagines knows how obsessed I am). The case of studies mentioned are taken from psychology books of the time. I don''t know what point you're with Angel of Darkness so I am not giving out too much.
The night was dark and tensed, not a soul on the streets of the residential area you lived in with your husband, the only light up the one in your bedroom.
You became mother three months before welcoming the first little Kreizler of her generation. It was hard but worth every second, every moment of the pregnancy and the delivery your husband was with you. You were lucky, you felt lucky to be with a man like Laszlo: open minded, modern, charming and righteous.
You smiled walking around the room as you lulled your baby humming a soft lullaby, the baby observing you with dazzling eyes, you could see she was tired and the melody kept her attentive but also lulled her to a place of comfort.
You swayed slowly in a gentle waltzer, your arms embracing the tiny body wrapped up into the finest white clothing. You yourself wore your white nightdress with a dark green cover up that Laszlo gifted you, it was slightly bigger in size so you’d use it though the whole pregnancy, your hair loosely braided.
The baby opened her mouth making a soft sound, she was calm and relaxed, to see her like this brought you an immense joy.
You heard steps approaching to the door, the house was empty since Stevie was with Laszlo and the cook you hired was in her quarters, you wouldn’t be worried if your husband wasn’t working on a case of abducted babies, but then you followed Laszlo’s common sense and listened instead of letting your mind worry. You listened to the steps coming one after the other, the weight of them, the pace.
You smiled to yourself as you guessed right, your husband appeared on the door frame and the shadow over his face disappeared for a moment meeting your standing figure with the baby. Since the case begun he refused to have any new staff in the house, he brought the bed of the baby in your bedroom, which wasn’t common back then, and every night sent Stevie to roam around the streets before going to bed to see if there was any obscure presence.
“My love” he said with a smile as he walked his way toward you undoing his jacket as you offered him a look of the falling asleep baby. His left hand gently caressing the little chest to feel the breathe of life in it. The baby blinked at him and smiled. Your baby girl was an early smiler, she smiled in her first month which just ripped off her father soul, tucked it in her little pocket and sold him forever. He was already ecstatic to be a father, only the announcement of your pregnancy got him wild, a mix of worry and tenderness always over him. The constant fear to be losing it. To lose what you brought to his life, not only his daughter but that happiness, the home feeling, the meaning to have something to come back to at night.
He loved you like a flower loves the water, he loved you more than metaphors can explain. He closed his eyes pressing his forehead against your temple, you rocked the baby gently in your arms as she relaxed, the sleep over her even if the presence of her father stirred her a bit.
“I am so worried for her” he murmured, he couldn’t cope with it anymore. The pressure to be following that case.
Sara told him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He owed it to Martha Napp, he owed him to his own child. To be in the case put his darling baby into the spotlight, but the best chance to solve it and avoid the menace of losing the apple of his eyes was to fight the crime from the inside.
And yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get inside it.
He looked up and noticed your eyes on him, you detected the twist into his mind, the fear, the tremble of his intentions.
You kissed his cheek as his head was bowed slightly before slowly moving away to lean the baby into her cradle.
“Get comfortable” you urged him softly as he nodded to you undoing his jacket and his waist coat shrugging them off his shoulders as you adjusted the baby into her usual sleeping position, you pulled the covers over her caressing her head full of dark blonde hair like her father had as a child. You brushed them gently as she stirred and relaxed again, a soft sound coming from her mouth. She was well dressed, well fed and happy, you knew your child had all the possibilities in life to be the most charming and smartest woman of her times.
You moved the little veils on top of the crib to shield her from the dim lights of the room before pacing your way back to your husband.
Laszlo was sat on your shared bed. His eyes focused in the nothing in front of him. His waistcoat and jacket abandoned as he wore only his candid white shirt and dark pants.
You picked the hooked needle as you slowly bowed to your knees, he blinked surprised for a moment as you begun to undo his boots silently. You knew him, you gave him time to express himself. He was elaborating still, collecting ideas after a day spent talking back and forth with Sara.
“I saw the body” he said as you looked up.
“The body of Martha Napp’s baby” he added and you frowned, the poor woman, you couldn’t imagine yourself in her position. You’d probably be accused of murder too because you’d probably become feral if somebody touched your baby.
“Are you sure it is her baby?”
You knew he was sure, but the hope still fazed you.
“The child was poisoned, the deadly pallor was evident but Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion” he took a pause, he licked his lips as you could almost see him relieve the scene in his mind “A benign hemangioma under her left axilla”
He looked at you, to see the corpse of a baby, a baby that could be his, to find out a baby girl was abducted and this time in a well known residential area. The anxiety took over him. He was pestered by dark worries, images that saw you in a state of loss and disruption like the poor Señora Linares.
His eyes rested onto you, your calm firmness made him shake at times. His strong and aggressive demeanour might show him as the rock of the couple, but you are. You’re the one that can overcome things, that can see clearly when his mind is clouded.
“Might that child soul rest now with her mother, if you allow me I will take care of organising the burial along with the mother’s corpse as soon as the Isaacson’s have concluded their inspections on it”
He looked at you, a soft smile crept on him. Your thoughtful self always finding the cure to the pain. He saw the failure and you found the ultimate resolution. You could not join them in life, let it be in death.
You gave him a warm smile before finishing with both his boots and pulling them out, your hands slowly tracing his calves and ankles resting your chin on his knee to interject his eyes.
“Darling”
He blinked, he zoned out again and your voice called him back.
“I apologise” he only said
You stood up, his eyes lingering over your body for a moment. You healed like a true champion after the delivery, in few weeks you were back on your feet like nothing, in a month you were able to attend events. Your energy and vitality made you seem immortal to his eyes, which triggered his fears of loss even more.
Something so special, so strong like you, the idea to see you broken in any shape or form poisoned his soul and tortured his heart.
“Laszlo” once again, you called him back to reality as you sat beside him “you’re not thinking clearly”
He huffed softly, you were right.
“I can’t focus” he admitted finally taking your hand in his “I even upset the señora with my questions, enraged Sara, I feel like an headless chicken rushing around to find answers I can’t deal with. The scientific community protecting a butcher, John doing all he can at the newspaper and yet I am providing nothing to this investigation but background noise” he frowned deeply.
You could tell he was doing it for Martha and for you. He wanted to protect you and he tried to keep you far from all that darkness.
“Come” you said as you moved to your spot on the bed relaxing your legs as you adjusted some pillows behind your back “come on”
You hushed him and he obeyed quietly crawling on the bed, his frown still present. You hated to see him like that. Usually he was able to keep cases of study and worries outside of the bedroom, but this case was too personal.
You smiled at him as you undid the silly bow on your neck that kept the upper part of your night gown up. It was a maternity gown so to undo that little knot exposed the sensual curve of your breasts in a second. His eyes indulged over that little silky cloth twisted around your finger and the stars of little moles on your chest, he knew each of them by memory, he knew the scent of your perfume and the oils you use after bathing.
He looked up at you with a questioning look, he mindlessly run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip when you exposed your juicy breasts. He always had a thing for them, he was always enchanted by the feminine chest as the highest form of femininity, big or small, that sensual shape was the epitome of life, of the charms of Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Mother Earth personified into the sacred body of his wife.
His eyes darted up back at you, a silent question on him as you didn’t let his confusion overwhelm you, you fought it with calmness and temperance.
“I know only one way to calm a restless Kreizler”
Your words would have made him smile as your open arms weren’t such a charming offer. He run his tongue again over his upper lip this time, using his left arm as support he slowly slipped closer to you.
His face leaned to yours as you didn’t seem to have changed your mind.
Somebody else would have maybe found it repulsive, a man of simple and good heart like John would have felt that kind of attention misplaced.
But not him.
He lowered himself over your chest adjusting into a nice position as you used few extra pillows you had there to ensure him a comfortable stay. His nose gently brushed over the inside of your chest, his hot breath hitting over your skin as he looked up at you once more and once more a welcoming smile followed his gaze.
He leaned down once again, lips parted to gently capture your nipple among them. Your mouth gaping lightly as he sucked a bit too much at the beginning sending shivers down your spine but just like any child his sucking revealed his anxiety to be fed, his fear and his need of protection.
You wrapped one arm around him as with the other you brushed his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp to relax him, fingers combing his always well kept hair.
You watched his eyes flutter closed as you resumed your usual humming. It wasn’t a real lullaby, it was some of a rhythm you got stuck in your head.
“You’re here and I am here, our baby is safe from the world outside and nothing bad can happen” you narrated softly to him “you’re the most amazing man I have ever met, I know that the clarity of your thinking will come back. Just stop the world for a moment, it will all be back when the time comes right”
He hummed softly as you fell silent gently caressing him as you observed him lovingly, the fingers of his weak right hand toying with your braid. His beard hitching a bit in the beginning but you got soon used to it, you didn’t speak up anymore, you felt him relax more and more and you also did. This new kind of bond felt pleasurable and sweet, you felt to have reached a new kind of intimacy which is all you could hope for your marriage.
The time passed in silence, not a sound disturbing you until Laszlo’s relaxed body stretched lightly, the common knowledge telling you that the baby is fed.
He pulled back slowly before resting a kiss over your chest in a silent thank you.
He rested his head over your lap observing you like some Madonna staring at him with you gentle tenderness, not even Michelangelo could have grasped the beauty of your act or the absolute unfiltered love of your gaze.
“Was it pleasurable for you?”
He asked as you smiled gently caressing his cheek and his beard
“It was, you are really gentle” you answered. Another thing that you loved about your marriage was the unfiltered expression of feelings. You both looked for clarity through the eyes of your partner.
“Does it makes me your child?”
You smiled understandingly. This is your Laszlo, inquiring, curious, witty.
“No, no I don’t have a feeling that resemblance to breastfeed a child, it is more deep, more bound into my mind as an act of” you stopped thinking about it.
“Communion?”
He dared and you nodded as that was the right word.
“There’s a 1903 study, a German alienist suggested practicing erotic lactation as a way to deepen the relationship between husband and wife in a book called Die Offenbarung im Weibe, quite of a title I’d say, but he advised it as a good way to family plan, to give both the partners pleasure and he focused most of his studies over the idea of women’s sexual satisfaction being vital to the creation of an happy marriage.”
“It pleases me, I won’t deny it and it is a way that makes me feel you closer to me but in a more primal way, closer to the way sex works but with a different meaning”
He nodded as he toyed still with your brain slowly, a little fetish he just noticed in himself still doomed by the charm of unfiltered pure femininity.
Long hair, breasts, welcoming hips, all details that attracted him and drawn him toward you.
“There’s a study case, a man, a very wealthy one, he was obsessed with female hair. The smell, the composition, the touching” he paused as he toyed with yours among his fingers “He wouldn’t be able to suppress his desire, he confessed me his deepest fantasy was to have an orgasm while kissing the female hair and burying his head through them. It was peculiar but not harmful until he got himself a pocket knife, one of those not even good for a little pickpocketing but just as good to be able to cut some ladies’s hair in a crowd”
You kept caressing his hair yourself, probably moved also by the story, observing it and enjoying the texture.
“Do you think the killer of children needs to posses his fetish then?”
He nodded as you’re so smart.
“The possession is part of the final abdication of a person to their fetish, to be up to crime to own the desired being just proves the final commitment to the satisfaction of one’s desires” he explained to you and he paused now almost asking to himself “why would somebody steal a child then?”
You turned around looking at the crib where your baby girl rested.
“Because my crib is empty” you said and his eyes widened lightly.
“Tell me more, try to imagine it”
You frowned lightly as you moved your hands away from him, making distance, imagining the loneliness of empty arms, the excruciating pain of having a child and then not having it anymore.
“I need to give my love to my child” you said then taking a pause, your eyes staring to some unknown spot of the room “and if my child is not there, I will make sure that there will be”
Laszlo sat up as he stared at you.
“But that child won’t resemble you, your child was special and peculiar in its own way, this child grows up, changes, blabbers words while yours didn’t”
He pushed this image in you as you came to the only reasonable deduction you’d do if you were in such a state
“Then that is not my child” you said only “my child is somewhere else and this one is an impostor”
Laszlo nodded “So you get rid of it as soon as the reality outgrows the fantasy”
He concluded.
You looked at him as he stared back at you, a woman, the killer must be a woman that lost a child or got it taken away from her. She finds surrogates and dismisses them, she probably never saw her baby grow so they can’t grow.
“What would I do without you?”
You smiled at his words “you’d be completely lost, we both know about it” you said kissing his lips having a taste of your own medicine “now get into your night clothing, you’ll see Sara tomorrow to give her this new perspective.”
He smiled, not even a trace of the worried and confused Laszlo that stepped I the room before. He was back to his senses, his mind active, he could see with clarity.
- - - - - - -
The case unveiled itself, proof after proof, run after run, document after document he came to the solution.
He was proud, you and the baby were safe and now he could go back to the everyday.
“I don’t see the point Laszlo, you have proved yourself enough against him” John said as he stared up at his annoyed features s you served him some more tea.
John looked at you like why are you not stopping him but you just smiled it off relaxing in the loveseat beside your husband as John shook his shoulders like an annoyed bird.
“A man like Dr Markoe after all he did holding a public lecture with the anguishing title of Murder, Madness and Motherhood?” Laszlo snapped back at John “please, the least I can do is to humiliate him in front of the whole academic arena”
Laszlo leaned back smiling at his friend like he was just a poor fool.
“He will again fight on you, you know he always picks up on you for treating mostly children and being part of the investigation, you get heated with him and you lose your control”
John seemed only to know reasons to get Laszlo to desist, you understood him from your part, your husband was a fiery character and he hardly forgive people with quick and poor judgements. You also noticed he became way more aggressive toward Markoe since before the case, he always depicted pregnant women as prone to lose control, foolish and behaving like animals that had to be kept on a tight leash, it all in particular when you were expecting.
John’s tsunami of words couldn’t be stopped he had a reason not to do anything but your attention was quickly taken away by the soft touch of Laszlo’s hand on your side, just above the hem of your corset, his thumb tracing the side of your boob giving you a shiver as you already knew perfectly what he was demanding.
You could now tell that John actually made him feel unsure or at least unsettled him, he needed comfort and energies to face his enemy now.
Sara groaned making herself heard for the first time, she noticed his gesture and found it actually cute as she could never wish Laszlo with somebody more perfected than you. Your calmness matched his fiery nature, you talked when he needed to think, you smiled when he couldn’t. You allowed him to be more himself than he had ever been.
“Let’s go John, you’re being so obnoxious, at what time we will see the butchery of the doctor?”
You quickly answered to her giving her a gentle smile as she put John to silence.
She asked as she stood up and John groaned following her “See you there” John said still saying how useless it was to still go after that man.
Laszlo stood up escorting them to the exit and then coming back to the living room. You sat there like he left you, he would close the door behind his back locking it before crossing the room with long steps and close the curtains letting the darkness wrap around you. Your fingers slowly undoing your shirt as his shape takes again form in front of you as he turns on one lamp in the corner of the room before moving closer to you again, eyes shining even in the obscurity as his fingers finally meet with your skin once you undid the first knots on your corset.
“Give me life” he would plead to you before lacing his lips your nipple once more.
You knew from the first suck on your nipple how Markoe held no chance on today’s debate.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog
#dr laszlo kreizler#dr laszlo kreizler drabble#dr laszlo kreizler x you#dr kreizler x reader#dr laszlo kreizler imagine#dr laszlo kreizler x reader#dr kreizler#laszlo kreizler fic#laszlo kreizler x y/n#laszlo kreizler fanfic#laszlo kreizler fanfiction#laszlo kreizler x you#laszlo kreizler imagine#laszlo kreizler x reader#laszlo kreizler headcanons#tw: lactation kink
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
Uncanny X-Men Abridged: 1983
The X-Men, those punk mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!
(X-Men 165 - 176) - by Chris Claremont and Paul Smith, Walt Simonson, John Romita Jr.
There are many iconic panels to choose from in 1983. This one only won because of Illyana’s ice-cold burn in the third panel. You go, Magik. (Uncanny X-Men 168)
1983 is fucking iconic! Which is fitting, giving that it’s the twentieth year of the X-Men. Whattayear! We’ve got Rogue joining the X-Men, the introduction of the Morlocks, Storm going punk… We even get a wedding and, what’s more, we get our very first fucking spin-off!
I’ve never found much to love in the pragmatic Moira MacTaggart, but I do love how well she can play Xavier like a fiddle. (The key is appealing to his vanity and his savior complex.) (Uncanny X-Men 165)
Funny how, in retrospect, Moira and her lost children can not only refer to Proteus, but also to the first brood of Krakoa-saviors: Petra, Sway, Darwin and the fourth third Summers brother.
Anyway, Moira strongarming a mourning Xavier into taking care of his third batch of mutants leads directly into him saving five wayward newbies from the clutches of one Donald Pierce. (Pierce, predictably, is still an incompetent asshole. It’s hard to be the most awful person in the Hellfire Club, but he’s really giving it his all.)
But wait, shouldn’t Charles be taking care of his X-Men? Well, the X-Men (and special guest star Carol Danvers aka Binary) are trapped in space, stranded somewhere near the vicious Brood world and, in a thinly veiled Alien-pastiche, incubating a very special Brood-egg each. (Except for Wolverine, whose healing factor killed off the egg, and Binary, who never got one.)
When we last left the X-Men, their ship had run out of juice, Storm used an escape pod when she realized she was becoming a Brood mommy and Binary, furious that that her X-buddies were becoming sleazoids, went to take the attack back to the Brood, inconsiderately leaving cliffhanger-y hole in the side of the ship. When we return, the remaining X-Men are quickly patching up the hole and determining their next move. But what happened to Storm?
I fail to see how killing both the egg and the host in a murder/suicide plot preserves the sanctity of life more than either one of those options, but go off, I guess. (Uncanny X-Men 165)
I’ll try and explain what’s happening. Storm does not want to kill the brood egg, because it is sentient, but she also does not want to kill herself, for more obvious reasons. Her ship then drifts off into a space nebula storm (sure why not) and this powers her up enough to stave off the metamorphosis and incinerate the ship, knowing the shock of being exposed to space will kill her Brood-baby and herself.
Look, I don’t know enough about space weather to call bullshit on all of this, but man, does this make little sense.
Anyway, Storm miraculously bonds with a prematurely born space whale Acanti whose mother was succumbing to the virus the Brood use to enslave them as living space ships. Apart, they would have died; bonded, they survived.
I don’t know if Claremont was high while writing this, but I sure wish I was spaced out of my gourd while reading this nonsense.
Storm is spiritually a space whale. What the fuck.
We’re skipping over Piotr comforting and then kissing Kitty back at the ship (sigh).
Space whale!Storm picks up Binary and her stranded teammates and together, they all go and attack the Brood capital. Storm and Binary provide aerial support, while Lilandra and the rest of the X-Men cover the ground. There’s a sub-plot of the Brood being helped by one of the X-Men (there’s a mole?!) but it’s not terribly interesting. (It’s Scott.)
Just as Binary is taken out, she is saved by the Deus Ex Starjammers!
On the ground, Kitty is separated from her team. She is chased down a cavern by some Brood, but then…
Of course a European style mini-dragon would be the natural enemy of a bunch of scifi Alien bugs. What the fuck am I reading. (Uncanny X-Men 166)
Apparently, the Brood’s natural enemies have been hiding in the planet’s core and Kitty’s new pet is one of them. She calls it Lockheed. Lockheed and Kitty lead the X-Men to an, er, Holy Chamber? The Brood are in hot pursuit. And then Binary somehow uses her solar affinity to distill the soul essence of the chamber and restore to the young Acanti melded with Storm. Apparently, that one's the chosen one? Using its Acanti Song, it restores the X-Men (including Storm) to health, purges the embryos and also turns the Brood Queen to crystal.
I swear I’m not deliberately making any of this less random, this is what happens.
Before the Brood Queen died, however, she revealed there was another Brood Queen Egg back on Earth. Wolverine quickly deduces that there can only be one suspect incubating that egg: Professor Xavier! (Gasp!)
The Starjammers deliver the X-Men back on Earth, where they attack the mansion and spook the New Mutants (who put a valiant fight, but in the end prove no match for the more seasoned mutants.) Xavier begins his final transformation to Brood Queen, but the X-Men pummel the Brood Queen long enough for Xavier to gain the upper hand. Xavier begs for them to kill him, but Scott refuses. (It reminds him too much of not being able to save Jean from the Phoenix.)
As a third option, they freeze the host body and Sikorsky (the Doc Bones of the Starjammers) clones a new body for Xavier and they implant his memories in there. (Is this where Charles got the idea for Krakoan ressurections?) As an added bonus, Xavier’s new body can physically walk again!
With a new lease on life, Xavier decides to behave somewhat like an actual teacher and decrees that Kitty should be demoted to the New Mutants instead of being a teenage superhero. This sensible decision leads Kitty to call Xavier a jerk. She tries every weapon in her arsenal to sway Xavier’s will:
An Examination of Father-Daughter relationships during Puberty in 4 images (Uncanny X-Men 168)
In the end, Kitty manages to convince Xavier by discovering a stowaway (Lockheed, the alien dragon) and by defeating a vicious Sidri hunter that followed them home. Because of her long-standing experience as a superheroe, Xavier decides to keep her on the X-team on a probationary status. If her grades start slipping, she’s off! Oh, Charles, you got so close to making a solid and informed decision befitting a teacher.
So close.
Claremont then proceeds to throw a lot of subplots into the air. Wolverine is off to Japan to deal with some shit, while Corsair takes Cyclops to meet his grandparents in Alaska. (Aw.) Kurt reconnects with Amanda and Lilandra asks Charles to help her overthrow Deathbird, who took hold of the Empire while Lilandra was dealing with the Brood. Charles refuses, because there are more and more mutants appearing every day. Somewhere else, Emma Frost is put into a coma by an unknown assailant.
All these are placeholders for the next big plot: we’re going into the sewers! Well, mostly Angel, who’s kidnapped out of his house and dragged down into the sewers. The X-Men mount up to follow him there, and one detail I like is Storm asking Xavier for Wolfsbane’s help, because the lack of Wolverine means they lack a proper tracker. Charles holds his ground and says no: the New Mutants are not a part of the X-Men! Good going, Xavier.
Also proud of Storm for going down in the sewers. (She’s come a long way with her claustrophobia.) Equipped with a mini-Cerebro, they go down, down, down… until they are jumped by the Morlocks! They’re a bunch of sewer-dwelling mutants who don’t fit in topside because of their mutations. Their leader is Callisto, a tough-as-nails eye-patch wearing Barbarella-expy, and an old lady named Plague, whose touch can cause incurable disease. A scouting Kitty finds this out the hard way: Plague can even work her infectious magic when Sprite’s phasing.
A deadly ill Kitty is recovered by Caliban, while the rest face down Callisto who wants to take Angel as her husband. (Can’t blame her, honestly. Also, it’s the first time it’s a female villain doing the whole marriage-bit instead of, say, Doom.) I have no idea how she thinks this will work, but I imagine it involves keeping him chained up to a cross for as long as possible.
The X-Men try to free Angel but are overwhelmed. Plague repeats her trick, infecting Storm, something the Morlocks ruthlessly exploit. Nightcrawler tries to appeal to them - aren’t they mutants, like them? - but Callisto bitterly replies that the Morlocks are nothing like them.
In the end it’s Caliban who helps the X-Men by revealing that they can duel their leader to win back their freedom: the winner will become the new leader. (Caliban is bewitched by Kitty and she promises him anything, anything, to help the X-Men.) Despite Callisto saying the duel will be to the death, Storm steps up.
This is what happens when you put Storm up against the wall. Damn. (Uncanny X-Men 170)
I’ve always loved the addition of the Morlocks to the X-Universe, because it paves the way for mutants becoming a community and a culture, a minority that exists beyond superheroes and supervillains. For every mutant like Storm and Avalanche, there’s got to be mutants who have sprouted horns and scales without any really powerful powers. Those would be ostracized by their parents, terrorized by the communities they used to be a part of. Where would they go? Where would they hide?
Some of them go down in the sewers and join the Morlocks. They are the first attempt at a Genosha, a Utopia, a Krakoa. What they lack, however, is a big enough stick to establish a real safe zone.
It also changes the vision of Xavier, however. He has to be aware of all this mutant presence underneath NYC. Has he tried to reach out to them? To save them? Or does he consider the mansion too small for hundreds of mutants? In the sixties, Xavier and Magneto were basically running a recruitment drive for mutants, trying to gather all neo-mutants they found into their flock. This is where that stops, officially.
The Morlocks are the first group of mutants that aren’t heroes or government agents or disco starlets or freedom fighters or villains or whatever: these mutants are just trying to survive. When Callisto indicts the X-Men with a “You’re nothing like us”, she means it. The X-Men are the pretty, powerful ones, privileged in terms of their mutation, able to blend in topside. (The only exception to this is Kurt, something the narrative points out.) Attacking someone like Storm in a dark alley is a mistake you only make once, but a gang of four armed with a few baseball bats can easily take out someone like Caliban.
Following Callisto's defeat, Storm assumes the leadership of the Morlocks, orders Angel freed and her and Kitty healed, and then tells them (essentially) stop attacking people who have done nothing wrong. With that, she leaves them in the sewers, for now. (Callisto, by the way, survives the stab to the heart because she has another one, but she is no longer the Morlocks' leader.)
While the X-Men sloshed around in the sewers, Scott went off to Alaska to meet his grandparents. He also meets a fetching redheaded pilot called Madelyne Pryor. She looks just like Jean! Scott, predictably, falls in love with her and Madelyne with him. But the coincidences do keep piling up. Scott does not notice the subtle firebird motif that accompanies Madelyne wherever she goes, but he does get suspicious when Madelyne turns out to nearly have died in a spectacular plane crash - on the same very day that Jean Grey died on the moon.
Still, that doesn’t prevent Scott from popping the question one amorous evening:
Oh, Madelyne, if only you’d trusted the instinct to punch Scott in the face rather than forgiving him and marrying him, you would have spared yourself so much grief. (Uncanny X-Men 173)
Scott finds himself easily forgiven when it comes to Madelyne, however (something that will become a running thread through out his X-career), and she ultimately agrees to marry him.
Back at the mansion, Rogue, member of the Brotherhood, asks Xavier for help: her powers have gone out of control. She can’t touch anyone without taking their powers, their memories, their personality. This is an awesome story, so I’ll go in depth later, but for now, suffice to say that Xavier lets her join the fold. Binary is furious and leaves the X-Mansion, but the rest of the X-Men begrudgingly allow for her presence..
The X-Men (including Rogue) go to Japan to attend Wolverine’s wedding, which ultimately falls through because of Viper, the Silver Samurai and someone manipulating events from the sidelines. (Also, Storm goes punk!)
Cyclops introduces Madelyne to the X-Men and everyone is all: Jesus fucking Christ, she looks just like Jean. (So much that Lilandra wants to straight up kill her before coming to her senses.) Everyone is worried that the Phoenix reincarnated as Madelyne.
And then, uh, she kind of proves them right. Madelyne goes Phoenix, takes out the Professor, sabotages Cerebro and toys with the X-Men before disappearing. She then (seemingly) kills the Starjammers and devastates New York. (Including Captain America et al.)
When Cyclops figures out this isn’t real and someone is manipulating them, the X-Men turn on him, suddenly believing he’s the Phoenix. In what turns out to be a cool moment for Cyke, he manages to use the danger room to take out the X-Men one by one, before formulating a plan to draw out their enemy in the open. While the culprit - Mastermind - explains to the Madelyne that she's under his thrall that he’s doing this for revenge because the Phoenix oh-so-casually lobotmized his mind. He can’t take it out on Jean for obvious reasons, so he takes it out on her beloved X-Men. He wants them to kill Scott, a moral blow they will never recover from.
He also subtly implies he’ll fuck Madelyne while she’s hypnotized by him. Creep.
Cyclops lets Rogue swipe Xavier’s powers so she can fight back against Mastermind. (He would never do this so cavalierly later, when it became more obvious what Rogue does and how it affects her.) With Rogue’s help, he convinces the X-Men that Mastermind has been manipulating them. Storm, Jean’s best friend and rightfully unhappy that someone would abuse her memory like that, is unleashed.
Ew, ew, ew, Mastermind even has a little porn ‘stache. (Uncanny X-Men 176)
Ostensibly, Ororo’s transformation to a more ruthless leader - visualized by her transformation to a leather-clad punkster - is caused by her semi-death in space and her losing touch with the balance of nature because of her carrying a Brood-egg. The narrative points out there is more to it than that, however. Storm has to be in control at all times because otherwise, weather will go very inclement very fast. After becoming the leader, she also has to be in control as a team member as well. Pressure of responsibility, heavy is the head that wears the tiara, etc. Her adventure with Yukio in Japan has awakened a repressed wild side, a tempeteous Storm that is capable of stabbing her enemies through the heart and sacrificing her teammates to garner a victory.
It’s a dramatic reversal for Storm and I, for one, am here for it. Claremont has always been able to make Storm one of the (if not the) most multifaceted of his characters, uniting her various sides organically. (This also makes Storm one of the harder characters to successfully pick up for other writers, I can't imagine anyone writing her just as good as, something I can't say for some of his other darlings, like Wolverine, Rogue and Shadowcat.)
After Mastermind is trounced, Scott says farewell to Jean by her grave and subsequently marries Madelyne, capping off 20 years of X-Men! (The marriage will be a disaster but at least Madelyne has the dubious honor of becoming the X-character who is shafted the most narratively. Poor girl. You have no idea what’s in store for you.)
While the X-Men celebrate these nuptials, the government is making moves too. We’ve met Henry Gyrich before, but there’s a new face too: Valerie Cooper! (smattering of applause)
Call Department H, Val! They’re historically really terrific at hiring superheroes to do their dirty work for them. (Uncanny X-Men 177)
Meet Valerie Cooper, who will become an ancillary cast member of the X-mythos in the 80’s and 90’s. Whereas Gyrich fuels the government’s paranoia and natural distrust of minorities and their attempts to gain a foothold, Valerie Cooper appeals to a somewhat less seedy aspect of society: the desire to make use of resources at your disposal and the need to outpace your enemies. Mutants are a tool, she says, a dangerous tool, but still a tool.
Valerie provides a new voice in the ongoing discourse on mutants and a direct friendly connection to the government. Too bad she has a terrible tendency to be blinded by her ambition and put her trust in the wrong people and things, as will be revealed later.
To end the year on a slightly less ominous note, Madelyne and Scott take their honeymoon to Borabora. (Do people even still go to Borabora?) Sure, their trip is briefly interrupted by a freak hurricane and a giant squid attack (of course it is), but it ends on a generally positive, love-affirming note.
Also, we get Scott in booty shorts being manhandled by tentacles, which I’m sure appeals to some of you. Maybe even me.
This is peak himbo Scott. (Uncanny X-Men 177)
So proud of myself for not putting shirtless Dukes of Hazzard!Scott on the cover picture.
Didn’t you take Art History? Paul Smith is not an iconic name like Byrne or Cockrum, but I never realized how long Smith was the main artist for the comic, or how many iconic panels the man drew, but damn, he got some good shots in. His style is more cartoonish than I’d like, but oh so dynamic. Kind of digging it.
Best new character: Viper. A stylish and clever new antagonist who will remain a thorn in the side of the X-Men for years and years to come. Loves green and being someone you can't trust.
Wife me up: Callisto tries to snag Angel through marriage; Mariko leaves Wolverine at the altar and Scott and Madelyne actually tie the knot. For once, the genuine weddings outweigh the villains trying to marry a hero. Progress!
What to read: Uncanny X-Men 169 - 174: the introduction of the Morlocks, Rogue joining the team and Wolverine’s wedding in Japan. The rest is gravy.
#x-men#x-men abridged#abridged x-men#cyclops#professor x#storm#nightcrawler#colossus#chris claremont#angel#kitty pryde#new mutants#paul smith#binary#lockheed#morlocks#wolverine#madelyne pryor#mastermind#the brood saga
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Harringrove April Day 30- Lily of the valley
There are very few things Billy actually remembers about his mother.
That can be pretty hard for him to swallow at times, the fact that he lost so much of his childhood to trauma, his mind blocking out even the good memories because of his father.
He still remembers the way she smelled when she held him, but he didn’t know the name of the scent she wore, and he remembers the sound of her voice, though he had long ago come to terms with the fact that he’d never hear it again, but the one thing he remembers so clearly about his mother is the lily of the valley tattoo on her forearm.
Neil had hated it from the day she got it, always making her cover it up with bracelets and long sleeves and makeup, but as a kid, Billy was fascinated by it. He would trace over it with his little fingers, the tiny flowers tattooed dark on his mother’s arm, connecting the dots between moles and freckles and petals.
One thing he doesn’t quite remember though, is the way she had cried when he asked if this mark hurt when he touched it like the ones his daddy left on her.
Neil seem to remember it just as well, deliberately mowing over valley lilies when they sprouted or spraying them with weed killer, so one day Billy decides, fuck it, he’s tired of seeing the one thing that truly reminds him of his mother get destroyed.
On his eighteenth birthday, Billy gets the same tattoo.
His is on his shoulder instead, in his head he thought it would look a little tougher there, at least as tough as a flower tattoo his hippie mom used to sport could. Of course, Neil is just as angry with him as he was the first time when his girlfriend came home with the same thing, probably even more so now that it was his son.
The bandage is only off for like, a week before Neil’s punishment comes, which, Billy guesses he should be at least a little grateful that he waited for all the bleeding and peeling to be over before he kicked his ass.
His dad’s not the only one that has a problem with it though, the first time Billy shows up at work without it covered, Billy gets lots of comments and sneers behind his back, all sorts of people who don’t know him saying they thought he was soft, feminine, a huge fucking pansy.
He didn’t think he should have to justify it to them, he lost his mother, he’s damn well allowed to get something on his body to commemorate her if he pleases, but it’s hard not to get a little defensive about it. He almost regrets it, not thinking it through more before he got these delicate flowers emblazoned on his skin, but that’s very much an almost.
Because one night he stands in front of his mirror and traces over the stems, the delicate petals, connecting them to the light freckles around it, blood that soap wouldn't quite reach still dried under his fingernails from the number Neil did on him earlier, and he cries like a damn baby, but he lets go of all that other stuff.
He got it for her , for his momma wherever she was still waiting for him, maybe still looking for him even, not for all of those assholes, and not to prove anything about himself.
So he wears it with pride, he tears the damn sleeves off of his shirts and wears jeans instead of a jacket if it’s a cooler day, and the comments stop coming, because it’s not as fun to say shit that doesn’t get a reaction anymore.
But the rumors don’t stop, and everyone knows as they spread, they change, and suddenly instead of Billy Hargrove being a pussy bitch, the mills churning out nastier shit, like Billy Hargrove’s a faggot, and it’s not safe to have him at the public pool.
There’s a long battle between him and Heather and the managers, and the pool begrudgingly lets him stay, but it’s not without lots of rules. He’d almost rather quit, with how short a leash he’s kept on, but he needs that job if he doesn’t want kicked out.
That’s what he’s complaining about to Steve one day over a smoke, sitting in the back room of the Harrington’s with the sliding door cracked so the smoke could drift out, not that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would be home anytime soon to notice it.
Steve’s the first person other than Neil to know it was for his momma, and the look he gives him, the sadness and concern in those big brown eyes, it’s enough to make him want to laser that damned tattoo off himself.
He’ll blame the weed for what he does next, lacing his fingers through Steve’s before he can start the pity party, but he hopes Steve doesn’t do the same when he makes the choice to lean over and kiss Billy, delicate fingers barely gracing the dark ink on his shoulder, the others getting lost in tangles of blond hair.
It helps him feel not so bad about the whole thing, getting that burden off his chest, and the kiss with Steve didn’t hurt either, but the next day it’s back to the same old thing at work.
After another week or so though, he notices the gossip has changed, and this time they’re saying Steve’s name instead of his. Steve Harrington’s the pansy faggot now, and Billy has to pretend until he can get out of that chair that he isn’t terrified for the both of them.
He goes straight to Steve’s house after work, tells him as soon as he finds him, “I swear I didn’t tell anybody , I don’t know how it got out.”
And Steve doesn’t look panicked at all, but rather he gives this little smug smile at Billy and says, “I do.” calmly enough that Billy can actually feel his heart shatter, even worse than it had when he woke to find his mother’s car missing.
Steve doesn’t let Billy stew in that heartbreak too long though before he clarifies, “I didn’t want you to have to deal with all that bullshit alone, so I got this.” He holds his wrist out, and shows Billy that he has his own tattoo now too; a sunflower in the same style as Billy��s, thick black outlines with no color.
“I figure, once the initial drama blows over, now that there’s two of us, they won’t be able to say as much.” Steve explains further, looking hopefully at Billy’s face
“Maybe. But until then, you could be in danger, and you’re going to be in even bigger trouble. Seriously, what’s John gonna say?” Billy scolds, panicking on Steve’s behalf whether or not it was necessary.
“And what did Neil say?” Steve argues back, but he knows that’s not productive, so he switches to trying to be comforting instead, “Look Billy, I wanted to do this. For you and for me.”
“It was stupid of you.” Billy says under his breath, taking up Steve’s pale wrist in both of his hands, gently brushing his thumb over the just healed barely healed tattoo, “Sunflowers were your aunts favorites too, weren’t they?”
“Mhm, and I don’t regret it, Billy. I love you too much.” Steve says, the first time he had ever said those three words.
Billy smiles and bends down, bringing his lips to that little monochrome image, and mumbles against soft skin, “Love you too, sunflower.”
#harringrove#harringroveapril#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#ej writer#story by ej!#last day! wow April flew by!#but I am glad to have some free time again!#anyways I’m pretending he got a lily of the valley tattoo instead of the god awful skull#we’re just pretending it never happened for the sake of this piece#also that reminds me I was writing a meta abt Billy’s tattoo like months ago and completely forgot about it#I’ll have to finish that
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thunderbird Headcanons
Thunderbird headcanons I just kinda forgot to post.
Scott
Not a single brain cell.
Like 6’1”
Is like really not down with the kids as much as he thinks he is.
Fully believes he is cool.
Writes a letter to his Mum every year and just puts it in a drawer.
Did have a mullet at one point.
Dimples and some moles.
Hates strawberries.
He really loves pies (not made by grandma though)
Good hugs.
He was rebellious as a kid, still got good grades at school but skived a lot and smoked probably.
Wears double denim.
Close to all his brothers due to him helping his dad raise them.
Especially close to Alan as he was only 8 when their dad went missing and kind of hand to become a parental figure in his dad's place.
Wears crocs and socks.
If he needs support will go to Virgil or John, but since he feels comfort in physical contact he tends to go to Virgil.
Full on had grey hairs at 25 from taking over IR.
Really likes porridge.
Reads/watches something for an hour before bed, unless the rescue literally causes him to pass out as soon as he gets on the bed.
Favourite tic tac flavour is lime and orange.
Really bad with spice.
Not allergic to bees
Virgil
Mans built, a good mix of both muscle and fat, bulking him out more than his brothers.
Was a bug kid, used to draw them all the time, he still remembers bug facts.
Really interested in scarab beetles
Moles on face as well as scar near eyebrow.
Like 5’9”-5’10”
Probably could lift the sofa with one hand if given the chance.
Can easily pick up Scott and John at the same time.
Usually the brother Gordon and Alan hang around or ask for emotional support.
Close with Gordon as he was the main brother who cared for Gordon after his accident due to his medical knowledge. Was around when Gordon had his breakdowns and Virgil knows a lot of Gordon's fears or insecurities, he knows most of his brothers insecurities as well, and always checks up on them if they are faced with something that could bring up their insecurities.
Virgil covers up alot, he can be quite insecure about his body, it fully depends on the day, if there is a day where he is more confident with his body and shows more skin, his brothers make sure not to comment on it as that can throw him off and make him insecure again.
Best hugs ever.
Can bake okay, can kind of cook, nothing too hard.
Has his own soup recipe that tends to be used when one of his brothers is ill.
Gay.
Close with all his brothers but tends to end up hanging around Gordon and Alan.
Is allergic to ibuprofen and aspirin
Sarcastic humour.
Full on had a crush on Kip Harris and Tycho reeves.
Can fill a sketchbook in a week.
Landscapes and figures are his favourite things to draw.
Has a birthmark on his palm
John
Tall an lanky.
Good at gymnastics.
Light freckles all over face.
Very close to Alan due to their shared love of space.
John used to teach Alan about space when they were younger, and used Alan as an audience (as well as Jeff) for when he had to practice for a presentation.
Like 6’1”
He had a punk phase when he was a teen.
Has severe hay fever.
Social anxiety isn't good with crowds, unless one of his brothers is with him, they help distract him from the crowds. Alan usually does space talk. Scott and Virgil tend to talk to him about mechanics and coding, usually asking John to babble about it. Gordon usually makes jokes or asks him about what he did that day, half the time Gordon doesn't understand what he's talking about but he's respectful and listens.
Does not like physical contact as much, he will hug his brothers but he has to be in the right mood, his brothers always seem to know when he is in the right mood.
Always hugs Alan and Gordon though.
Tends to keep a level head but if someone were to hurt one of his brothers he would get angry.
Was a generally quiet kid.
Was good at getting a baby/toddler Alan to stop crying.
Has a mole behind his ear.
Gordon
Little, like 5’6” to 5’8”.
Big shoulder from all that butterfly swimming.
Jokes about a lot, not only because he is funny but he is insecure, he hates seeing family so sad, it reminds him of when he was in his accident.
Is actually kind of insecure about his body, he has a lot of scars from accidents and from being in WASP.
He is shaped like a dorito and has little body fat.
Bisexual
Massive crush on Penelope, eventually asks her out and they hang out as much as they can, which isn't much since they both have very busy lives.
Has a mullet.
Also wears crocs and socks but does it better than Scott.
Is a mess.
Military lad but if you didn't know him you would not be able to tell.
Suffers from depression but again you wouldn't be able to tell, he hides it well.
Nothing but bright clothes in his wardrobe.
At one point he did have a crush on buddy.
He did have a good relationship with Jeff but from ages 14-16 they just didn't get on, Gordon just seemed to get on Jeff's nerves a lot and also seemed to just keep making the wrong decisions. This all got better when Gordon talked about going to work with WASP. Too bad Jeff never got to see him there since the accident happened before Gordon started.
Gordon naturally feels relieved when Jeff comes back, they start again and so far they are getting on well.
Is actually a really good cook.
If not swimming or on a mission he will spend the day cooking if given the chance.
Likes veg more than fruit.
Catch him munching on a carrot whilst listening to the info on the mission.
Always has tic-tacs in his pockets, both suit and civvies.
Really good with spice and heat, he survived eating a carolina reaper pepper.
Knows how to do the hoedown throwdown.
Knows origami.
Alan
Was only 1 when his mum died, he blames himself sometimes due to him being the one his mum was trying to save in the avalanche. [All versions]
Pansexual [All versions]
Never had a good bond with his family until he was 14 and the hood attacks, sure he liked them and they cared for him they just never gelled as well. Despite this he is close with John. John was the main one to actually listen to him and actually let him speak through his issues and John never judges him [04].
He has a boyfriend who he meets at whartons, they meet before the hoods attack and get close whilst Alans in recovery via video calls and when Alans is allowed back into school they start dating. [04]
Freckles :)
Is very little, between 5’4” and 5’7” depending on the version.
When Jeff comes back Alan is iffy around him, Jeff manages to get back in to the father figure role quickly but Alan hasn't seen Jeff for years and has forgot a lot about him, Alan naturally goes to Scott with any issues, isn't used to Jeff being around. It takes a few months for him and Jeff to actually bond properly by themselves.
Has a prosthetic leg, the story behind it depends on the version, 04, his leg was severely injured after falling and catching his leg on the moving mole during his fight with the hood in the bank. In TAG it's a situation of explosion in space that nearly kills him. (Sometimes this is a thing sometimes it's not idk)
Has a bed full of stuffed animals.
His room is filled with rocket posters and models.
Has a shelf that's just the rockets in mission order.
Loves the mercury 7.
Alan's baking ability is making those cookies that you just add like milk into.
Used to copy Gordon a lot.
Still copies him sometimes, like him keeping sweets in his pockets at all times and sometimes copies his reactions in conversations cause he zones out a lot
Will tear up if someone shouts at him, usually he hides it and when alone he lets it out. His brothers know this and will usually try to prevent the shouting from happening.
#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#Scott Tracy#Virgil Tracy#John Tracy#Gordon Tracy#alan tracy#thunderbirds au#thunderbirds headcanons
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time for a story - So it begins
To read before: Present tense & Missing
Thea and Roy were the last to arrive to the bunker. Roy was holding the sleeping Robbie cradled against his chest. Thea, who was seven months pregnant now, was holding a hand to her baby bump. The slow movements of her fingers told Oliver that she could feel her baby, his nephew, kicking at the excitement of this nightly trip.
As soon as Thea had taken the few steps up onto the platform where Felicity’s work space usually was, she crossed the distance towards Oliver. Straightening up on the tip of her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and put a hand to the back of his head.
“We will find her, Ollie,” she promised with whispered voice, soothing him, “of course we will find her.”
Oliver put his arms around Thea’s waist and tried to believe in her words. He wanted to believe that she was right. He wanted to believe in that spark of hope that she offered, but he just couldn’t do it.
While they were still hugging, he looked at the team that he had to help him find Felicity. Thea and Roy were his legal family. John and Lyla were his family by heart. John had been the first person to join his team. He was his best friend, and the person he trusted more. He was the one who would have to lead this operation because he was calmer and more focused than Oliver could be, especially given the situation at hand. Nick was Felicity’s – and through that – his family too. He wasn’t exactly stable yet, but he was skilled, and he’d do everything necessary to save Felicity. When it all went down, Oliver trusted Nick to follow him in the most dangerous darkness to save Felicity.
Fact was that the entire team was family. People who went through the shit that they had been put through and continued to go through it again and again every single night they went out into the field for years either became enemies or family. Oliver was lucky enough to call the people around him family.
They’d be complete if Tommy and Laurel were there too, but they had gone on vacation three days ago. Tommy had wanted to escape his day of death. It was still so traumatizing for him that it was hard for him to live through it. Taking his wife to some lonely place where they could be all alone and he could let himself fall and be caught by her was what he needed. Oliver got that. He often felt the same way about his trauma.
Oliver tightened his arms around Thea’s waist once more before he let go of her. He took a step back and flashed her a sad smile. It was meant to soothe her the way that she had tried to soothe him and tell her that he was doing okay – as okay as possible given the circumstances – but he guessed that it looked so pathetic that it wasn’t believable at all.
While Thea stepped back towards Roy, who put his free hand to the small of her back and rubbed it over the probably aching part of her muscles, Oliver looked around the faces of the people around him. His fingers tightened around the banister around him.
“Thank you all for coming here. I know that-“
“Spare yourself the breath, Oliver,” John interrupted him softly and shook his head, “because, as far as I got it, we don’t have a lot of time. What about Felicity?”
Oliver sucked in a deep breath, grateful that he got to skip the general rules of politeness. After the island, he had felt like he had forgotten all about those rules the same way he had felt unable to participate in small talk or anything like that. Felicity had taught him to adapt to more normal standards, but sometimes it was still hard to remember it.
“William Tockman got her.”
“Tockman?” Roy frowned. “Should I know who that is?”
“He calls himself the Clock King. Sara, John, Felicity and I know him. He hired two criminals to steal something from Kord Enterprise and killed one of them for killing a guard. Later, he hired others to steal money from the Starling National Bank. We set him up, so he broke into another agency of Starling National. That is where we took her down, well, Felicity did.”
“So he wants revenge,” Dominic concluded and crossed her arms in front of her chest, “and he wants to wreak revenge on Felicity the most which is not good news.”
Oliver nodded his head though he felt every muscle in his body tensing once more. He knew what Lyla meant. There was no good reason why Tockman would want Oliver to find Felicity alive. Her death would certainly suit him much more, at least unless he was going to kill him in front of her eyes.
“Tockman is playing a game.” Oliver gestured to the traces that he had found already. “He sent me the countdown. That’s the time I have to find Felicity. It started at forty-eight hours and went down since I opened the gift box it was wrapped in.”
Forty-one hours and thirty-four minutes were left, and it continued to run out right in front of his eyes. There was nothing he could to to stop it, and it already felt like it was too little time to succeed.
“He said we will start where we finished the last time, so I drove to the bank and found that tablet in my private box. It allows me to see Felicity, but I can’t contact her.”
“May I check?”
Oliver grabbed the tablet and put it onto Lyla’s hand willingly. He knew that through her job at A.R.G.U.S. she had a lot of hidden talents and a lot of resources. From the computers here, Felicity had given herself access to these abilities, and Lyla knew that too. She linked the tablet with Felicity’s system and started working her way through the almost child-proof system. Still, she’d probably be more successful than Oliver would have been.
“He said that there are rewards to be unlock if I follow the right traces, but they will be taken away if I take the wrong traces.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And I am not allowed to get myself any help to do this. It was meant to be a one-on-one. Calling you and telling you everything about this wasn’t a light choice to make because it might cost me the person I love and need most in this world. I just know that Felicity ”
Saying that made his chest felt heavy because it reminded him once more what risk he had taking by calling John. Given what was on the line for him, he shouldn’t have been able to contact him. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he knew how much Felicity had always said that they needed to trust in their friends and needed to trust in the joint effort of the team, she wouldn’t have contacted them.
Oliver could see his family and friends sharing meaningful looks. They knew how much it must have taken from him to call them. He had always done things alone and, even though he had gotten offers for help from people he had felt he could trust a lot of times, he hadn’t been able to take those offers. He had just been too used to doing things alone, and deep in his bones he had still believed that the only person he could trust was himself. That was how it always had been after all.
“We need to find Felicity,” Oliver said, “and, to do so, we need to find the next clues. The tablet was the last thing that I got from Tockman, so it has to lead to some new traces. The tablet has to be the key to the next trace.”
Dominic nodded and stepped right behind Lyla. Looking over her shoulder, he tried to follow the codes she went through. The way he narrowed his eyes at what he was seeing at the screen told Oliver that he had no idea what he was seeing there. Felicity had often joked that Roy really didn’t get the way tech worked at all although he did very well at trying to cover it by sounding smart and like he knew his way around a computer.
“A.R.G.U.S. would be a great help with this.” Lyla sighed while her fingers moved on the keyboard. Others would probably say they were moving quickly, but since Oliver had memorized the clattering sound of Felicity’s fingers dancing over the keyboard, he knew it was rather slow compared to her. The comparison wasn’t exactly fair though as Felicity had been behind computers for years, and it had been exactly where she had wanted to be. “My experts in IT know their way around a computer much better than I do and-“
“I don’t trust A.R.G.U.S.”
“I basically am A.R.G.U.S.,” Lyla replied almost a little sharply, turning around in Felicity’s chair and looking at Oliver urgently, “because I ran background checks on them. They all came back okay. I also interviewed them to test their psych. I made sure that everyone working for A.R.G.U.S. is fit and trustworthy of the job. I was very thorough in choosing what agents had to go and what could stay. I trust everyone working for A.R.G.U.S. because they have been chosen thoroughly.”
Oliver knew that Lyla was saying the truth. She was a good friend of Felicity and him. She knew how much they meant to John. She wouldn’t keep it a secret if she had even the slightest doubt about this. If there was a mole within her team, she would say it because
“You are a part of that agency which is not the same as being A.R.G.U.S.,” Oliver countered, “which is why I trust you, but I don’t trust your agents. I don’t trust them with anything that affects my missions, and I definitely don’t trust them with my wife’s life. It’s Felicity.”
He knew that he could trust Lyla because she had become part of this family a long time ago. She had supported Felicity when she had needed it the most, and she offered her services to the team a lot of times too. Still, given the history that he shared with A.R.G.U.S., Oliver couldn’t trust that institution. He knew how it worked, and he knew that he wanted no part in it if it was avoidable.
“There are too many people involved in this as it is.” Oliver sighed. He knew that a fight was the last thing he needed right now. “I don’t want to risk even more by asking for more people to help.”
Lyla knew that he was just soothing her. Oliver could see in her eyes that she knew. Instead of saying anything, she just nodded her head and turned back to the computers though. After all, she knew as well as he did that this wasn’t the right time to pick up a discussion about whether or not A.R.G.U.S. was trustworthy.
Oliver’s eyes found the countdown once more, and he felt his heart aching in his chest. He was looking on life a lot more positively now than he had a couple of years ago, but he was still a realist. Chasing criminals on the street was much easier than playing the games of some psycho. He wasn’t the one in charge here.
In the latter half of his life so far, Oliver had experienced a lot of loss. Every single one had taken a part of his soul. For years, he had been walking around like a ghost, really being a shell of a body more than anything else. That was what happened when the people you cared about were ripped from your life, and it was completely out of your control.
With how helpless and out of control he had felt with every time someone he loved had died, Oliver guessed it was no surprise that he had turned into a control freak. Like so many of his symptoms, it had become better with time, but he still had trouble sometimes. During family walks, he always needed his kids to stay somewhere close. He always needed to know where they were. It made him nervous when he couldn’t see them.
Losing the people that you loved the way he had lost them did that to people.
“I need a phone.”
His words seemed to surprise the people around him. He didn’t care to explain to them that he didn’t want to use his phone in case Tockman would call him. With a single look he told everyone that he was serious and held out his hand. Immediately, everyone reached into the pocket of their pants and held their phones out for him. Thea was the first to put her phone into his hand, so Oliver took it.
“What are you doing?” John asked.
“There is someone that I have to call.”
“Curtis?” Thea asked. “That’s probably a good idea. Felicity was the one who invited him in on the team in the first place to replace her and-“
“It’s not Curtis.”
Oliver wondered if he should call Curtis. While he had indeed jumped in a couple of times when Felicity had been unavailable and he had actually been a regular part of the team since they had divided it into two shifts, for some reason Oliver just didn’t consider him a close part of this family. Maybe it was because, other than Arrow operations and QI occasions, there were barely any touch points between them. Maybe it wasn’t fair not to call Curtis, but he really was Oliver’s last priority right now, and he actually wasn’t sure enough if he could trust the bubbly man to keep a secret like this.
John frowned when Oliver stated dialing the number. Oliver only saw it from the corner of his eye, but he lifted his gaze to his friend nonetheless. His thumb was already hovering over the green receiver.
“I need to call Bruce.”
A couple of years ago, these words would have surprised Oliver himself, but not anymore. He had grown a lot through the years and he had learned to understand people as well as people’s feelings a lot better. Understanding a person that was in love with Felicity was the easiest.
“If the situation was the other way around, and he was the one married to Felicity, while I was hopelessly in love with her, I would want to know.” Oliver pressed the green receiver. “Bruce deserves to know.”
It didn’t take long for Bruce to take the call. He didn’t say a word though, probably suspicious as he wasn’t sure who war calling. Oliver doubted that he had saved Thea’s number. Just like Oliver himself, Bruce knew that an unknown caller usually meant that there was trouble as only a handful of people had access to their phone numbers.
“Bruce, it’s me. Oliver.”
There was only a beat of silence, barely longer than the beat of a heart. As short as the moment of silence was, it still weighed heavy. Bruce had experienced as much pain as Oliver had in his life. Maybe his pain and his experience had been different, but it had taken him to the same point it had taken Oliver eventually.
“What happened?”
“William Tockman aka the Clock King took Felicity. He gave me two days to find her and, although I know it’s against the rules, I think a group effort is our best chance.”
“I will be in Starling before sunrise.”
Oliver nodded his head when Bruce had already hung up. He was glad that Bruce was coming here. They could need the help, and he offered the right expertise for this battle with Tockman. If someone aside from Felicity could fight him, it was Bruce.
“I might have found something.”
Quickly, Oliver handed his phone back to Thea and stepped behind Lyla, who was skimming through a folder full of music files.
“What did you find?”
“Well, to be completely true here, Felicity’s security check found it. The folder has been hidden and was secured, but the system basically found and unlocked it all by itself thanks to Felicity’s preinstalled routine mechanisms.”
So Felicity was probably going to find herself at the end and lead them right towards her, so they could get them out of wherever she was held captive. Felicity had learned early to save herself.
“What files are there?”
“They are all music files. Apparently, they belong to different albums of a band that’s called Mortician.”
“How is that going to help us?” Thea asked and stepped next to Oliver. “It has to be a new trace, but where is it supposed to take us?”
“I looked at the files a little bit more thoroughly.” Lyla shot a brief look back over her shoulder before she turned back to the monitors. “The song that was most listened to is called Zombie Apocalypse. I looked for any connections between that and Tockman or the song and Starling City. Apparently, a horror movie with the same title has filmed some scenes around here. On the property of a local mortician.”
“That’s where I will start my search for the next trace.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Roy already turned to follow Oliver, but he shot a look back over his shoulder and shook his head. It might have looked weak, but it made Roy stop nonetheless.
“No,” he said, “I will go alone in case Tockman observes me.”
He had risked enough as it was. He couldn’t go a step further. If Tockman saw him with anyone of the team, he would know that Oliver had broken the rules. Maybe he knew already. Oliver hoped that wasn’t true, but it was possible. He just couldn’t allow himself to think about that.
→ → → → →
Since it took him more than an hour to get to his destination, less than forty hours were left to find Felicity by the time that Oliver arrived at the morticians. Although it was still the middle of the night – something he had only realized once he had arrived at the building – there was light behind one of the windows. Apparently, someone was working a nightshift or something.
Oliver went to the door and knocked at it firmly. Maybe the light had only been left switched on by accident, but Oliver really couldn’t care less right now. He had an excuse to say why he had knocked at the door so late, but he wouldn’t care if he woke up anyone.
It didn’t take too long before the door was opened. An elder man with glassy eyes and tousled hair was looking at Oliver over the rim of his glasses. Before Oliver could say anything though, he nodded his head with a long sigh and beckoned him to come in.
With a quick, suspicious look around Oliver tried to find out if there was anyone watching him. Since he got the impression that he had been expected, he wondered if Tockman was somewhere around here. Even if he wasn’t, he certainly had been here or had sent someone to come here and announce that he was going to come here.
This was the right trace. Oliver could feel it.
Oliver stepped into the house carefully, already taking a thorough look around. This might be a trap, one of those wrong traces after all. His feeling might betray him. It had happened before after all.
“Come on,” the man that had opened the door for him said, “I will show you the coffins.”
“Thanks,” Oliver said after a brief moment of hesitation, “that’s exactly what I intended to see.”
He had no idea what game exactly was being played here, but he guessed that playing along was his best choice for now. At least that was he wasn’t dismissed just yet.
“I know.”
The man sighed, looking at Oliver for a long moment. He looked him up and down thoroughly, taking him in and judging him for sure. He looked at him like he thought very little of him. As the mayor, Oliver was used to that. He was used to people thinking little of him because of the political decisions he had made. There was something else here though. Oliver could feel it.
“I am sorry for the late visit.”
He had to feel a way into this conversation. He had to find out what exactly was being placed here without losing his chance of finding the next trace. It was close. He could feel it. He couldn’t risk losing it.
“I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to do this.” The man sighed once more. “Luckily, I wasn’t paid that badly, so I guess it’s okay.”
Oliver nodded his head, unsure wat he could say to that. He still wasn’t sure if all of this was right or a trap or whatever.
“I voted for you by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“I have to admit that I am not sure I would have done it if I had known that you were taking part in scavenger hunts.” He stepped into what looked like a showroom for coffins and turned around to Oliver. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he looked at Oliver almost a little dismissively. “I thought your days of being a spoilt bachelor were over.”
A scavenger hunt. That was what he believed was happening here.
“They actually are over. I was persuaded into joining.”
The mortician just nodded his head, looking Oliver up and down once more. If Oliver had to bet, he’d say that he wasn’t going to vote him next time. He didn’t care, at least not right now.
Oliver shot a look at his watch. He didn’t have time for long conversations. He needed to get onto Tockman’s track.
“I guess your time is precious since you want to find your friend.”
Again, the mortician sighed. Turning away, he opened one of the coffins and reached inside. When he turned back around, he held out a USB drive for Oliver. Taking it, Oliver turned the little device between his fingers.
“Your friend asked me to tell you something.”
Oliver perked up his eyebrows and felt his heart skipping a beat. Maybe the message in combination with whatever was on the USB drive would take him a step closer to Felicity.
“What did he say?”
“He said The dead are always trying to convince me how comfortable their coffins are.” He made a brief pause. “He also asked me to offer you to test the comfortability of one of my coffins. He said you might have a thing for playing with death.”
Oliver looked at the coffins intently, wondering what exactly this was supposed to mean. Was it just a little joke Tockman was making or was there some deeper meaning to it? Was it maybe a wrong trace to follow?
Pressing his lips together tightly, Oliver sucked in a deep breath. He would need to know what was on the USB drive and also have the whole effort of the team to help him put the pieces together.
“Not tonight,” he said and tightened his fingers around the USB drive, “but thank you for your offer and for everything.”
With that, he turned around and left the house, hoping that these next clues were helping him to find out more.
→ → → → →
Thirty-eight hours and less than fifty minutes were left by the time that Oliver arrived back in the bunker. The moment he stepped into the dark, he lifted the USB drive.
“I have something.”
Everyone, including Bruce who was sitting in Felicity’s chair, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as quickly as Felicity’s usually did, turned around to him. Oliver wondered briefly if he should be surprised that Bruce was here already. A flight from Gotham took a lot longer than two hours. With how crazy the world they were living in could be, Oliver was sure that he had found a way to make this work though.
“I will check that,” Bruce said and lifted a hand to catch the USB drive when Oliver threw it in his direction, “and meanwhile you will tell me the entire story from the beginning. I need to know everything. Every little detail. Maybe there is something you missed or something you- I don’t know. Maybe there is just something.”
Oliver nodded his head. He grabbed the tablet he had found in his private box and pushed the button to see Felicity. She threw her head to the side, a sob falling from her lips. Oliver couldn’t hear it, but the sound echoed through his head nonetheless. And it broke his heart.
“Oliver.”
Bruce’s harsh voice made Oliver hug the tablet to his chest before he looked at the one man who loved Felicity as much as he himself did. He wasn’t looking back at him though. Instead, his eyes were glued to the monitor as he was already trying to find out what exactly was saved on the USB-drive.
“Felicity took Tockman down a couple of years ago, using his own tech against him,” Oliver explained, his voice almost sounding numb as he lowered his eyes back to the tablet and the footage of Felicity he was receiving, “and he has been in prison for the last years. He broke out during the latest earthquake. Now he is holding Felicity captive and wants me to find her. He gave me forty-eight hours and even sent me a countdown, to make sure I know the exact time I have left. He said it was like some kind of game, and he set up some rules. The most important one is that I should find her alone. He says there will be consequences if I break any of the rules.”
“Then why did you call your team?”
From the corner of his eye, he could see Thea already taking in a breath to tell Bruce that Oliver had made the right call, but Oliver shook his head quickly. Bruce was still where Oliver had been a couple of years ago. He doubted people more than he trusted them, and when it came down to it, he would always decide to trust only himself over anyone else.
“Because I know it’s what Felicity would have wanted me to do,” Oliver explained, pushing the button to see Felicity once more, “because she knows that doing things alone never leads to the same success as trusting your friends. She was the one who convinced me that a team was what this city and what I would need for my wellbeing. She would want the team to be involved in here.”
“You should have called me and only me.”
Bruce’s voice was low, but Oliver could still hear the anger in it. There was nothing Oliver could possibly say to convince Bruce otherwise. He wasn’t ready to trust people in situations of crisis, and this was certainly one of the worst situations for Bruce given how much Felicity meant to him.
Who knew. Maybe Bruce was right, and Oliver should have just contacted Bruce. He could have easily erased all traces of their contact. Bruce had the skills necessary for that. It might have been the safer option, but they would certainly need a bumper between them eventually.
Tapping onto the little button of the tablet, Oliver lowered his eyes. For the first time, Felicity hadn’t slapped her hands in front of her face protectively. Still, she looked anything but happy or content with the way things were. Felicity looked exhausted. There were dark rings under her eyes that she had squeezed shut to protect them from the light. Her lips were dry, her skin pale.
Who knew what she was going through right now? She didn’t have much room which scared her as Oliver knew although it had become better. Did she have something to drink? Something to eat? Was she comfortable?
The dead are always trying to convince me how comfortable their coffins are.
As soon as the display went black, Oliver pushed the button once more. He needed to see Felicity alive. Who knew what was done to her when he couldn’t see her?
“Stop pushing that damn button. It hurts Felicity.”
Bruce’s harsh voice made Oliver lift his gaze and frown at him. Still, Bruce wasn’t looking back at him. He continued working on the computers, trying to figure out what clues the USB-drive were holding.
Oliver wanted to ask him how he knew that Felicity was being hurt, but deep down he already knew that Bruce was right. The glaring light was shining right into her face, probably blinding her as much as the reports’ flashlights always hurt Oliver. Given how close the light seemed to be to her face, it had to be even worse.
Sucking in a deep breath to breathe against the pain, Oliver put the tablet again and stepped behind Bruce.
“How is it going?”
“Give me a couple more minutes, and we will know what’s on the USB-drive. It’s encrypted well, but certainly not well enough. He encrypted this for you, not for me.”
Oliver didn’t doubt that.
“I have something to work on for the rest of you,” Oliver said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and turning around to the rest of the team, “because the mortician I have been to has delivered a message from Tockman. He said The dead are always trying to convince me how comfortable their coffins are. We need to find out what that means.”
While the others left the platform to discuss exactly that, Oliver stayed back with Bruce. He glanced towards the tablet again and again. His fingers were twitching with the urge to reach out for it, but Oliver didn’t dare to. He knew Bruce was right with his estimation. Felicity was only getting hurt through it.
Oliver just didn’t know what else he should do, and he hated not doing anything. It drove him crazy and-
“Got it.”
Immediately, Oliver was back behind Bruce. He looked over his shoulder at the monitor, trying to understand anything of the many numbers there.
“What is it?” he asked urgently. “Any new clue?”
“It’s a program for audio transmitting.”
Oliver frowned. “He sent me another message?”
“No, I think it’s the missing audio for the video footage of Felicity. The line is safe, so even if Tockman has access to the line, he can’t hear you know. It’s blocked.”
Oliver felt his heart skipping a beat before it started racing in his chest. He needed to talk to Felicity. He needed to assure her that he was going to find her. She probably knew that already because she had so much faith in him, but he wanted to tell her nonetheless.
Bruce pulled the USB-drive from the slot in the computer and held it out to Oliver. The expression in his eyes was so intense that Oliver barely dared to take the USB-drive from him. He could just see in Bruce’s eyes that he would love to keep it to himself. He needed to talk to Felicity as much as Oliver did, but he knew that this was a privilege that was all Oliver’s. At least for now.
“Tell Felicity that I am here and that we will find her.”
Nodding his head, Oliver took the USB-drive from him and whispered, “I will. And we will.”
While Oliver put the USB-drive to the tablet, Bruce left Felicity work station. Oliver sat back on the edge of the table and sucked in another deep breath. Closing his eyes, he cradled the tablet to his chest for a moment.
He knew that he had to get a hold on himself. Only if he had a hold on himself, he could be calm enough and assuring enough to make sure that Felicity believed him. He needed to be calm if he wanted to calm her down, and he wanted to calm her down. He wanted her to spend the next hours of her life, afraid that she was going to die in that cold hole she was captured in. He was going to find her, and he was going to hold her for hours until she was going to be okay eventually. Until they both were.
Breathing out slowly, Oliver brushed his thumb against the small button on the display.
“Felicity?”
→ → → → →
“You’re still the one I run to / The one that I belong to.”
Felicity hadn’t been surprised when that song had come to her mind. It was kind of her and Oliver’s song although they had only chosen it rather lately. Oliver had woken up after a nightmare, and they had danced to that song in their bedroom. Listening to the lyrics, they had decided that it was their song.
“You’re still the one I want for life / You’re still the one that I love / The only one I dream of / You’re still the one I kiss goodnight / Ain’t nothing better.”
After everything they had been through together and despite the uncertainty of what else they would have to go through in the future, they had known that they would always be the one for each other. There would never be anyone else because nobody could possibly understand them as well as they understood each other.
“You’re still the one I want for life / You’re still the one that I love / The only one I dream of / You’re still the one I kiss goodnight.”
Although she had told Oliver that she was going to take care of everything, she was sure that he had set up everything romantically, so they could fully enjoy the evening together. This song had probably been played on repeat for hours already, and he would have still insisted on continuing to listen to it.
Oliver was a giant sap, no matter how much he tried to hide it from anyone but her. He was her giant sap, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Ain’t nothing better / We beat the odds together / I’m glad we didn’t listen / Look at that we would be missin’.”
God, they would both miss so much if they hadn’t given into their feelings. They were both happier than they had ever been in their lives. Without each other, everything in their lives would be different. Maybe they’d still be happy, but their lives wouldn’t be full.
Felicity squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a single tear running down her cheek.
She might not see or speak to Oliver again. She could never tell him how much he had enriched her life and how much happiness and stability he had brought into it. She could never tell him how much she really loved him.
Maybe he knew it already, he probably did, but she needed to tell him again. She needed it to be the last thing she told him. Otherwise, she would never be sure.
There were always so much things more that she needed to tell him. There were things that he needed to tell their kids. She needed them to know some things, things she had thought she could tell them later on. Since there wasn’t necessarily a later on, she might have to tell Oliver to tell them one day and-
The glaring light was switched on once more. The heat seemed to drill itself into her skin. It hurt everywhere, feeling like a fire being held close to her face.
“Felicity?”
A sob that had been sticking in her throat the entire time since she had woken up in this little cage or whatever she was in.
“Oliver.”
She didn’t have to ask. She’d recognize his voice in a pool of a thousand voices. Even through his voice modulator she’d be able to recognize him by now. She just knew him so well, and she’d recognize him through every costume he could possibly put on.
“Hey.”
His voice was soft, but Felicity could hear the tears in his voice, and it made tears streaming down her face now too. Although she had been and still was so sure that Oliver would find her eventually, she was scared about being locked into this tiny thing in the dark. All of this was so very scary, and that made her weak.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said quickly, his voice still lowered to a whisper, “don’t cry. I will find you, okay? I don’t know where you are yet, but I will find you and-“
“Oliver.”
His name fell from her lips in a sob. For the break of a second, she felt all those words she had been thinking about for the past minute threatening to fall from her lips. She knew that those words would be a goodbye and a sign that she didn’t believe Oliver would find her eventually, and that wouldn’t be fair. Oliver would try everything he could to find her. No matter how much it took.
“I will find you,” Oliver repeated, his voice more convincing now, “we will find you.”
“You called the team.”
A sigh of relief fell from her lips, not because she doubted that he couldn’t find her on his own, but because she knew that it must have taken a lot from him to trust anyone with what had happened. What exactly had happened though?
“Yes, I called them,” Oliver told her, “although Tockman told me not to.”
“It was the right choice.”
“I know you’d say this.” Oliver sighed. “Which is why I called them and Bruce. Together, we are a good team. We will find you. I promise you.”
“I know,” Felicity whispered closing her eyes once more, “I know you will find me.”
She really knew. Whatever thoughts she had had before had just been symptoms of how bad she felt locked up in this dark. Now that she could hear Oliver’s voice, those thoughts felt completely irrelevant because Oliver was going to find her, no matter what her dark thoughts were trying to tell her.
Everything was going to be okay. She knew that now more than ever. She was going to be back with Oliver and her kids soon because he would save her. She knew he would.
“Are you okay?” Oliver added eventually. “Did Tockman hurt you?”
“No.” Felicity shook her head and took in a sniffling breath. She quickly wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “He just took me and took me out. When I woke up, I was caged into a small, dark thing. I have no idea where I am.”
“I know,” Oliver whispered soothingly, “I can see you.”
Felicity frowned. “How?”
“There has to be a camera in there. Tockman sent me a tablet with the video footage, and we managed to unlock the audio just now. We can talk now.”
“Good.” Felicity nodded slowly. “So, it’s you who can switch on the light in here?”
“Yes, but I am trying to avoid it. I know it’s not pleasant and-“
“No, I- It’s a lot easier to bear it now that I know you are the one looking at me and not him.”
She imagined Tockman to sit behind his computers and watch her. He wanted her to suffer, but Felicity was sure that knowing she suffered alone wasn’t enough. He needed to see her. He needed to see how much she was suffering.
Although the light still prickled on her skin unpleasantly, at least now Felicity knew that it was Oliver thinking about her. She could imagine looking into his deep blue eyes and seeing his soft smile on his lips. It would comfort her in this cold and lonely darkness.
Closing her eyes, Felicity took some deep breaths and imagined right that. She felt her heartbeat slowing down immediately. Some of the panic that had spread in her veins in the last minutes or hours or days since she had been locked in here – there was no way she could keep a track of time here – faded. Oliver and the team would find her. Easily.
“Are you okay?”
“I am going to be,” Felicity promised, “how long have I been away yet?”
“Almost eleven hours since Tockman called me.”
Was that long or short? Felicity wasn’t sure.
“I have thirty-seven hours left to find you, but don’t worry. We have traces. We will-“
“I know,” Felicity whispered, “I know you will find me. I trust you, and I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.”
Felicity smiled softly, feeling his words wrap her into some gentle warmth that seemed to fill her from the inside as much as it covered her from the outside.
Everything was going to be okay. She just had to hold on for some hours more.
* * *
@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows-blog @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19-blog @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @mrt2501 @arsipaci14 @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafraan-blog @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl-blog @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem @wrldtravler @readerkas @olicity-beliver @greencoffeecups @snorlaxishere @sonothappening118
(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fire Keeper: Chapter 16
Douxie x fem reader
Chapter 1
Masterlist in bio!
Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.
Chapter 16 summary: You go with Aja, Krel, and Stuart to the moon to rescue Varvatos.
If there was one spell you were using more often it was the lullaby spell. You quietly sang to the baby in your arms. It was late and you had caught her crying. Thankfully she hadn’t woken any of the other babies and your lullaby was helping her fall back into a peaceful sleep.
Just as you put her back into the crib you felt your phone vibrate. You took it out of your pocket and saw that Toby was calling. You quickly left the house so you wouldn’t wake anyone.
“Hello?” You asked, answering it.
“Hey, Y/n, so my friends, Aja and Krel need help with something and I immediately thought of you.”
“Oh, I know Aja and Krel. What do they need? Is it another bounty hunter?” You asked, concerned. You had only known them for about an hour, but you had grown to care for the siblings. Your older sister instincts had kicked in.
“They need help finding their friend and since you were able to track down Glug I thought maybe you could help them out.”
“Yeah, I can figure something out,” you said. You knew you couldn’t ask Archie to help Aja and Krel, but you could look for their friend’s aura. “Text me the address and I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay, and Krel said you might need a disguise.”
“Got it.”
~~~~
After dropping Mao off at Douxie’s you arrived to see Aja, Krel, Eli and Toby waiting.
“He should have been here by now. Those Durians are always late!” Krel whined.
“And this is all one big rescue mission for your geezer friend?” Eli asked.
“For Varvatos, yes,” Krel corrected. “He's being held at a bounty hunter outpost on the Earth's moon.”
“The moon? So flipping cool!” Toby exclaimed. “Although, probably not so much for your friend.”
“Wait we’re going to the moon?” You asked.
Krel, Toby and Eli turned to you. “Oh, hey Y/n. Thanks for coming,” Toby said.
“Um, yeah. I’m here to help.”
“Thank you,” Krel said. “Our friend Varvatos is trapped on the moon in this Bounty Hunter’s guild and we don’t know how big it is and Toby said you could help us find him.”
You smiled. “Yep, I just need you to tell me about him.”
“We can talk on the way there,” Krel said.
Aja paced behind you, talking on the phone. “I told you, we're at a sleepover with our friends Toby, Y/n, and Eli.”
Aja sighed. “Y/n does. I'll find out more and report back. Tomorrow.”
Aja hung up and turned to Toby and Eli. “Thanks for covering for us. Did you bring the gear?”
“As requested,” Toby said, patting a box. You jumped as a spaceship appeared behind him.
Eli gasped. “Awesome!”
“Sauc-er!” Toby joked and you shook your head, smiling at his pun.
“Greetings, Your Majesties. Your chariot awaits. Ah!” The green alien yelped as the ship sputtered.
“That doesn't inspire confidence,” Krel muttered and you nodded.
“And how long is it going to take us to reach the moon... in that?” Aja asked, jumping onto the ship.
“Assuming we make good time, 20 to 30, tops,” the alien said as Krel hopped on after his sister, with the box. He almost fell backwards, but you caught him with your magic. You levitated onto the ship.
“Wow! Minutes?” Eli marveled.
The alien laughed. “Very droll. Ha! This one's a comedian. No, not minutes, hours! So, if you have to use the john, do so now or forever hold your pee.”
“Oh dear,” you mumbled, slightly regretting your decision to help out. However, you weren’t gonna chicken out now, you really wanted to see the moon.
You hopped into the ship and took a seat.
“Who’s she?” The alien asked.
“I’m Y/n. The sorceress, but, uh, you can’t tell anyone that last part. Toby thought I could help, so here I am.”
“Well, I’m Stuart. Welcome aboard,”
~~~~
You yawned, waking up to hear the same song playing that you had fallen asleep to. “How long have I slept?” You asked, confused. In your sleep deprived state you had expected yourself to get a lot more, but the song was still playing.
“Most of the journey,” Krel said.
Aja groaned. “Why do I feel like I've heard this song a thousand times?”
“Ah, ah, ah! It is Uncle Stuey's turn to pick the music,” Stuart said.
“But I'm the-“ Krel started.
Stuart cut him off. “Yes, yes, king-in-waiting. It's a nice try. Out here, rules of the road, thank you very much.”
“But there are no roads,” Krel protested.
“I'm so bored!” Aja groaned.
“Are we there yet?” Krel asked.
“No,” Stuart said and you sighed.
“Are we going to be there soon?” Aja asked.
“No,” Stuart replied.”
“How much longer?” Krel asked.
“Not for a while,” Stuart answered vaugly, which was beginning to annoy you.
“Like, ten mekrons?” Aja asked and you wondered what a mekron was.
“No.”
“Twenty mekrons?” Krel suggested.
“No!” Stuart snapped.
“Thirty mekrons?” Aja asked.
“We'll get there when we get there! Oi!” Stuart yelled. The ship settled into silence again and you decided it was time to try your hand at entertaining the kids.
You did a few magic tricks, mostly creating things with magic, but they were entertained nonetheless.
~~~~
Krel chuckled. “Huh.”
“What?” You asked, turning away from the game of chess you had created using magic.
Krel gestured out the window where you could see earth and the sun rising behind it. It was a beautiful sight.
Aja yawned, as Krel woke her up. “If you're waking me up, we better be there,” she threatened.
“Come on! You're gonna wanna see this,” Krel said excitedly.
“Oh, lively!” Aja breathed.
“You know, for a dump heap, it's really quite beautiful,” Krel admitted and you gave him a look.
Aj smiled. “Or as Vex would say, glorious.”
You continued to admire the planet when you heard gas hissing from Stuart.
“Ah!” Krel cried.
You plugged your nose. “Really?”
“Ah! Stuart!” Aja scolded.
“That was rank, even for you,” Krel said.
“The fact that you'd assume immediately that it's me, it's really very offensive,” Start said as he pulled down towards the moon's surface. You marveled at it.
“As far as I’m aware, I’m the first sorceress to step foot on the moon,” you said excitedly.
Aja patted your back. “Lively.”
Stuart called you over to the computer screen. “According to the computer, there appears to be an anomaly in quadrant two hundred and forty five, here in sector fourth five.”
The spaceship docked, and you, Aja, and Krel rushed out of the spaceship. You were glad to finally be out of the cramped ship.
Aja gasped. “Get me out of here!”
Krel took a deep breath. “I can't take it anymore!”
“I can breathe!” You cried.
Aja jumped to the ground, but she instead hovered in the air. “A moon with low gravity. So lively!”
Krel jumped after her. “I got you, I got you!”
Aja sighed. “Great, but who's got you?”
Stuart jumped up to get them and he sighed contentedly as they floated to the ground. “Ah! I forgot how much I love it here. You weigh less, you've got none of that unnecessary oxygen clogging up your respiratory system.”
They reached the ground, landing in front of you. “Y/n how are you breathing?” Krel asked, suddenly realizing the lack of oxygen.
“Magic,” you said vaguely. “I cast a spell when I realized we were going to the moon.”
Krel nodded as the four of you continued walking.
“Zadra's ship! Alpha must have taken it when he captured Vex!” Krel stated excitedly. You and Krel had exchanged life stories on the long ride over, so you knew what he was talking about.
“Then the intel from that hammer guy was right. They're here,” Aja said.
The siblings went to walk away, but Stuart grabbed them. “Yeah, whoa, whoa! Easy there! This is the Hunter's Guild Lunar Outpost, where the most dastardly bounty hunters in the galaxy refuel and reload. It's also got a temporary prison. Humans would call it a drunk tank.”
“Oh yuck!” You exclaimed, you did not want to deal with a bunch of intoxicated aliens.
“I get it! It's a rough crowd,” Aja said, shrugging off Stuart's hand.
“Which is why we're going to stick to the plan, thanks to Toby and Darci,” Krel said, spinning the box and tossing it. He held his arms out for the box, but it took awhile for it to fall. He sighed. “Let's do this.”
Krel took out the mole mascot costume and he put it on while you put a large black cape around you to hide your face and body.
“Oh!” Krel cried as a cup hit him when you walked in.
“Bounty hunters are a touchy lot. You have to stay alert.” Stuart warned.
“You try staying alert without any peripheral vision,” Krel pouted.
“Psst. Zeron Brother, 12 o'clock,” Aja warned. You looked to see a weird coyote looking thing.
The Zeron guy pulled a dagger on the robot. “I didn't order this.” He cut the robots head off and you shuddered. “Heads up, comrades. I have a drink I call the energizer. Light it up, Tronos.”
Tronos laughed. “With pleasure! Bottoms up!”
“Heh, rough crowd,” Stuart chuckled.
“Psst, keep them busy,” Aja ordered as the two of you went to find Varvatos.
The two of you eventually found him after you looked for an aura similar to Aja and Krel’s.
You approached the cell and Varvatos growled. “You enter this cell, Varvatos Vex promises you will only be hastening your own dismemberment.”
“That wasn't the reaction I was looking for,” Aja said smiling.
“Aja? Queen-in-waiting!” Varvatos exclaimed.
“Shh! That guard could come back any mekron,” Aja warned.
“Varvatos thought you were-- What are you doing here?” He asked.
“Krel and I thought a little rescue mission might make for a fun summer vacation,” Aja explained.
“A suicide mission is more like it. This place is replete with bounty hunters! Varvatos did not train you to be this foolish,” Varvatos reprimanded.
Aja grinned. “I'm glad to see prison hasn't changed you, Varvatos.”
Varvatos sighed. “This prison is a fitting punishment for what Varvatos did. Now go, and leave him to rot.”
“Haha, I didn’t come to the moon just to see it. Krel told me all about the amazing Varvatos Vex, I’m here to save you too,” you explained, hoping to encourage the poor Ackaridian.
“And who are you?” Varvatos asked.
“She is Y/n. A sorceress, but you can’t tell anyone that last bit,” Aja explained, obviously losing patience.
“Don’t worry, Aja,” You soothed. “We’ve got this.”
Aja grumbled. “We don't have time for this! As queen-in-waiting, shouldn't I decide what's a fitting punishment?” She cleared her throat. “By order of the Akiridion-Five throne, I grant you a royal pardon. I overturn your banishment and sentence you to the protection of House Tarron. Come home, Varvatos. We need you.”
Aja didn't wait for Varvatos to answer, she blasted the key pad, but it didn’t open the door.
“It's no use. The diavelant laser grid can't be deactivated without the prison guard's key,” Varvatos explained.
Aja began to scream. “What are you doing? You'll alert the guard!” Varvatos warned and you realized what Aja was doing. You began to scream too.
“I'm getting the key,” Aja said.
You didn't have to wait long for the guard to come. “Hey, what's with all the noise down here?”
You and Aja hid and when he walked to Varvatos’s cell she attacked the guard.
Unfortunately the guard fought. Back and you did your best to blast them without hitting Aja. The guard growled when your magic skimmed him.
“This is some rescue, really,’ Varvatos said.
Aja huffed. “A little patience? Or did you forget that part of your warrior training?”
Soon enough the two of you were able to kick the guard towards Varvatos’s cell. “No touching!” Varvatos warned as the guard fell into the wall. He then fell to the ground unconscious. Aja got the key and freed Varvatos.
“Varvatos was wrong to doubt your tactical prowess. It is most impressive.”
Aja smiled. “You taught me well. Wait, you're missing something.”
“Varvatos' serrator?” He laughed as Aja handed him his protractor like weapon. “Oh, how he has missed you, sweet mistress of death!” He kissed his serrator.
“I can't tell if you're happier to see me or your serrator,” Aja laughed. You began to lead them out of the dungeon, but Varvatos stopped.
“Wait. Wait one delson. Where is Zadra?” He asked.
“Come on,” you interrupted. “We need to go, I can hear fighting.”
The three of you made your way to the bar. “A room of Foo-Foo fighters. A battle of the ages!” Varvatos laughed.
“There they are!” Aja said, ignoring him. You ran over to Stuart and Krel.
“Glorious!” Vex yelled, as he watched the fight between what appeared to be all the bounty hunters.
A robot that looked like a rabbit found a gun and started firing it while you hid. “Die, die, die, die, die, die!” It yelled.
“Vex, wow! Looks like someone's been getting beefy in the clink. Really digging the lats, brah. Boom-boom!” Stuart joked.
“Hello, Stuart,” Varvatos said, but he didn’t seem too excited. His eyes lit up though when he saw Krel. “Your Highness!”
Aja interrupted the reunion. “Run now, reunions later.”
“Varvatos approves of this plan.”
The rabbit robot continued yelling. “Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die--“ Varvatos jumped out at him. “I'm dead.”
Varvatos grabbed the rabbit and began to spin it around. “Now come get some!” Varvatos challenged.
“Let’s go!” you called, creating a shield around your group as Varvatos took care of the bounty hunters.
“Varvatos thanks you for the light exercise,” he called as you left the bar. You burst out of the doors only to stop when the low gravity made you run slower.
“Varvatos Vex!” The coyote bounty hunter yelled. “Your death is mine!”
“Glorious!” Varvatos yelled only to be slowed as he exited the building. “The gravity here is most unhelpful.”
“Kleb!” Krel cursed.
“Yah! They're mine!” Coyote guy slammed the doors to the bar, keeping the other bounty hunters out.
“Hurry! He's right behind us!” Aja called.
“If we want a shot at outrunning these guys, we should take Zadra's Stryker,” Krel said, pointing.
“Hey, what are you trying to imply about my ship?” Stuart protested. You ran towards Zadra’s ship only to stop when it exploded.
“Ah!” Krel sighed. “Oh, but I'm sure we can make it work.”
“You three, go ahead. Varvatos Vex will hold him off.”
“We came all this way, we're not leaving without you,” Aja said.
“Alpha killed Varvatos' family. Varvatos must end this.”
“Now give Alpha a glorious death,” Aja encouraged, running off.
You made it to the ship and helped Aja up.
“Is no one gonna back up Vex?” Stuart asked.
Aja shook her head. “The Zerons killed Vex's family. This is his fight.”
You hopped into the ship to help get it ready, just in case you had to make a hasty getaway.
You heard shouting outside.
“Do you think he's winning?” Stuart asked. You heard something hit the ship. “It sounds like he's winning.”
The lights outside the ship turned off and you heard Varvatos grunt.
“Any idea what's going on out there?” Aja asked, concerned for her friend.
“Still too dark to see,” Krel said.
It got quiet. “I’m going out there,” Aja said.
“Me too,” Krel agreed.
“Here,” you cast a spell that lit up the hanger. Aja nodded to you and left.
Eventually they came back and you smiled at them. “Who’s ready for the up to thirty hour journey home?” You asked, sarcastically excited.
~~~~
You watched the window as earth steadily got closer. While space was fun, you really missed earth.
“Varvatos must admit, he is looking forward to returning home. If you were to grant him that honor, despite his own failings.”
“Hey, we've all made mistakes and we've all lost people that meant the world to us,” Krel consoled.
“But the three of us are a family,” Aja said and you smiled, it was sweet seeing them happy. You were glad you could help.
Stuart cleared his throat and you all chuckled. “And Stuart,” Aja added.
“And Varvatos will not fail his family again.”
You watched as Stuart pulled you closer to Arcadia and you were excited to see your home. That excitement suddenly disappeared when someone shot at you.
“Somebody is shooting at us!” Varvatos yelled.
“But who?” Stuart asked.
“Maybe it’s the government lady,” you suggested, falling as Stuart did his best to make a crash landing.
You coughed as the door opened and Stuart fell out. “Uncle! Uncle! We come in peace. Ah! Ouch.”
“I thought you were an enemy ship! I could have killed you!” An Acaridian who you believed was Zadra said.
“Well, you... you definitely tried,” Stuart pouted.
Aja cleared her throat and Zadra came over to her.
“What? You said you were at a sleepover,” Zadra said.
Aja laughed sheepishly. “I am sorry. I feel bad about that.”
“You have no idea how much I worried! I nearly took up knitting!” Zadra said and you laughed.
“Such is the pain of raising teen-agers,” Varvatos said as he came out of the ship.
Zadra narrowed her eyes at Varvatos. “I didn't ask for your opinion, nor did I authorize the rescue of a traitor.”
“He's family. We had to rescue him,” Aja protested.
“We will discuss your actions later. For now, I fear a far greater battle lies ahead,” Zadra said ominously. You heard your phone beep from your pocket and you checked the message.
You sighed. “As much as I’d love to stay and hear about this great battle, I’ve got to get going. Thanks for bringing me along.”
“Any time Y/n,” Stuart said.
“Thank you for assisting,” Varvatos said.
You smiled and turned to Aja and Krel. “If you need anything just call me. I’m here to help, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/n,” Aja said, hugging you.
“Of course. Just send me a text if you need to. I’ll be visiting my brother Jim in New Jersey next week, but I’ll still be available to talk.”
“Bye Y/n, thank you!” Krel called as you walked away. You turned and waved at them before settling in for the long walk in the heat to the bookstore. You were glad Douxie had air conditioning.
~~~~
“Where’s my darling?” You asked, walking into the book shop.
“Up here!” Douxie called and you followed his voice to his living room. Mao was curled up with Archie next to Douxie.
“Aww, see you had nothing to worry about,” you said, gesturing to the adorable kitten sleeping peacefully.
“At first she was a little hesitant, but she warmed up to him,” Archie said.
“Of course she did, I never had any doubts.” You took a seat next to Archie and leaned back into the couch. It was pretty comfy and his home was so cold.
"So, what was the errand that called you out in the middle of the night?" Douxie asked.
"I went to the moon," you said excitedly. "I made friends with these nice kids who are from a planet far from here. They needed to rescue their friend from a bounty hunter's hide out on the moon. It's a long story."
Douxie chuckled. "Huh, who knew."
"Arcadia has a lot to offer." You smiled brightly, it warmed your heart that Douxie didn't even hesitate to believe you. You had really fallen for him. He was just so great.
~~~~
The two of you continued chatting for quite a while longer until you grew tired.
The past few days had been very eventful for you and it has been over a month since the eternal night so you were out of routine. Not only had that made you tired, it was the crying babies who currently at your household. You adored them, but you where definitely much more tired than normal.
Archie and Mao cuddled up close to you and Douche brought you a blanket and pillow. He understood what it was like to be exhausted and he wanted to do his best to help you feel better. Unbeknownst to you he really cared for you. He really liked you.
****
Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate all of you and I hope you have fantastic weekends and stay safe! Next half chapter will be you visiting Jim in New Jersey, so stay tuned for that next week!! 💕
P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.
P.P.S. I'm totally open for requests on fluffy half chapters! If you have any ideas for the half chapters send them in and I'll do my best to include them.
#douxie x reader#douxie imagine#hisirdoux casperan x reader#hisirdoux x reader#wizards imagine#trollhunters imagine#tales of arcadia imagine#toa imagine#douxie#toa douxie#wizards douxie#hisirdoux casperan#wizards#trollhunters#trollhunters douxie#toa#tales of arcadia#tales of arcadia douxie#fire keeper
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Today is a very special day, it’s Marilyn’s Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive, Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today – just two months younger than the Queen herself! With each year I always try and write a special post about this amazing woman, who has helped me so much and achieved more than anyone could have imagined in her 36 years. Therefore, I decided to write 94 facts about the Birthday Girl – some you may know, some you may not, all in the hope that genuine things will be learnt and the real Marilyn will be more understood and appreciated.
Gladys and baby Norma Jeane spend some quality time together on the beach in 1929.
Little Norma Jeane, aged seven, in 1933.
Norma Jeane photographed by David Conover whilst working at the Radio Plane Munitions Factory in either the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945.
Norma Jeane by Andre de Dienes in late 1945.
Marilyn by Richard Miller in 1946.
Marilyn on Tobey Beach by Andre de Dienes on July 23rd 1949.
Marilyn by Ed Clark in Griffith Park in August 1950.
Marilyn attends a Party in Ray Anthony’s home, organized by 20th Century Fox on August 3rd 1952.
Marilyn filming The Seven Year Itch on location in New York City by Sam Shaw on September 13th 1954.
Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.
Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956. This was her favourite photo of herself.
Marilyn attending the Premiere of The Prince In The Showgirl at the Radio City Music Hall on June 13th 1957.
Marilyn by Carl Perutz on June 16th 1958.
Marilyn by Philippe Halsman for LIFE Magazine in October 1959.
Marilyn attends a Benefit for The Actors Studio at the Roseland Dance City on March 13th 1961.
Marilyn on Santa Monica Beach for Cosmopolitan Magazine by George Barris on July 1st 1962.
______________________________________________________________________________
1. Stood at a height of 5’5½”
2. Born in the charity ward of the Los Angeles County Hospital at 9:30 AM on June 1st 1926.
3. Married three times;
– Jim Dougherty: (June 19th 1942 – September 13th 1946) – Joe Dimaggio: (January 14th 1954 – 31st October 1955) (Temporary divorce granted on October 27th 1954) – Arthur Miller: (June 29th 1956 – January 20th 1961).
4. Suffered two confirmed miscarriages; an ectopic pregnancy on August 1st 1957 and miscarriage in December 16th 1958.
5. Suffered with endometriosis very badly, so much so that she had a clause in her contract which stated she would be unable to work whilst menstruating.
6. Starred in 30 films – her last being uncompleted.
7. Favourite of her own performances was as Angela Phinlay in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)
8. Winner of three Golden Globes; two for World Film Favourite – Female in 1954 and 1962 and one for Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical for her performance as Sugar Kane in Some Like It Hot (1959) in 1960.
9. Her idol was the first Platinum Blonde Bombshell, Jean Harlow.
10. Amassed a collection of over 400 books in her library, ranging from Russian Literature to Psychology.
11. Favourite perfume was Chanel No.5
12. Had two half siblings; Robert “Jackie” Baker (1918 – 1933) and Bernice Miracle (1919) – the former she would never have the chance to meet and Bernice was not informed about Marilyn until she was 19 years old.
13. Former Actor and 20th Century Fox Studio Executive, Ben Lyon created the name Marilyn Monroe in December 1946 – Marilyn after fellow Actress, Marilyn Miller and Monroe after Marilyn’s mother’s maiden name. Ironically enough, Ben starred with Jean Harlow, in her breakout movie, Hell’s Angels (1930).
14. Legally changed her name to Marilyn Monroe ten years later, on February 23rd 1956.
15. Attended The Actors Studio.
16. Third woman to start her own Film Production Company – the first being Lois Weber in 1917 and the second being Mary Pickford in 1919.
17. First had her hair bleached in January 1946 at the Frank & Joseph Salon by Beautician Sylvia Barnhart, originally intended for a Shampoo Advert.
18. Contrary to popular belief, she was technically a natural blonde, not a redhead or brunette. She was born with platinum hair and was very fair until just before her teen years. Her sister described her with having dark blonde hair upon their first meeting in 1944.
19. Another myth debunked – she had blue eyes, not brown.
20. Was one of the few women in the 1950s to use weights when exercising.
21. Wore jeans before it was considered acceptable for women.
22. Her famous mole was real – albeit skin coloured, so she emphasized it using a brown eye pencil.
23. Was a Step-Mother in two of her three marriages to three children – Joe Dimaggio Jr. and Bobby and Jane Miller.
24. Found out she landed the lead role in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) on her 26th Birthday.
25. Another huge myth dispelled – only actually met President Kennedy four times from 1961 – 1962. Three of them were at public events, with the last being her performance at Madison Square Garden. One of them was at Bing Crosby’s Palm Spring house with various people, so at most (which again, is very unlikely) they had a one night stand – nothing more and nothing less.
26. Was the first Playboy Cover Girl, although she did not actually pose for them, nor give permission for them to be used. Hugh Hefner bought the photograph from a Chicago Calendar Company for $500 and the two never met.
27. Speaking of Playboy, the photo was taken by Photographer Tom Kelley on May 27th 1951 and Marilyn made a total of $50 for the photo shoot. The most famous photo then went on to cause a national sensation after being sold to the Calendar Baumgarth Company and became known as, “Golden Dreams“.
28. In 1955 it was estimated that over four million copies of the Calendar had been sold.
29. Favourite singers were Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald.
30. Attended the Academy Awards Ceremony only once on March 29th 1951 and presented the award for “Best Sound Recording” to Thomas Moulton for All About Eve (1951) which she also starred in.
31. Performed ten shows over four days to over 100,000 soldiers and marines in Korea in February 1954 – she actually ended up catching pneumonia because it was so cold.
32. Was one of the few Stars who had Director Approval in their Contracts. Some of the names included were, John Huston, Elia Kazan, Alfred Hitchcock, George Stevens, William Wyler, Joshua Logan and Sir Carol Reed.
33. Was pregnant during the filming of Some Like It Hot (1959) – filming finished on November 7th 1958 and she miscarried the following month on December 16th.
34. Featured on the cover of LIFE Magazine seven times during her lifetime;
– April 7th 1952 – May 25th 1953 – July 8th 1957 (International Edition) – April 20th 1959 – November 9th 1959 – August 15th 1960 – June 22nd 1962
35. Favourite bevarage was Dom Perignon 1953 Champagne.
36. By the time of her death, her films had grossed over $200 million, when adjusted for inflation that is the equivalent of $2 billion in 2019.
37. Designer, William Travilla dressed Marilyn for seven of her films, two (*) of them received Oscar Nominations in, “Best Costume/Design, Color“;
– Monkey Business (1952) – Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – How To Marry A Millionaire (1953) * – River Of No Return (1954) – There’s No Business Like Show Business (1954) * – The Seven Year Itch (1955) – Bus Stop (1956)
38. Spent 21 months of her childhood at the Los Angeles Orphanage, from September 13th 1935 until June 7th 1937.
39. Was one of the first Stars to speak out about child abuse, with her story appearing in movie magazines as early as 1954.
40. Fostered by her grandmother’s neighbours, Ida and Albert Bolender, for the first seven years of her life.
41. Lived in England for four months, during the period of filming for The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) from July 14th 1956 – November 20th 1956.
42. Her Production Company, Marilyn Monroe Productions produced only one film, The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) based on Terrance Rattigan’s play, The Sleeping Prince.
43. Was photographed by Earl Theisen in October 1952 wearing a potato sack dress after being criticized by the press for her outfit choice at The Henrietta Awards in January 1952. A journalist wrote that Marilyn was “insignificant and vulgar“and “even in a potato bag, it would have been more elegant.“
44. Was a huge supporter of LGBT+ rights, saying the following quote about fellow actor and friend, Montgomery Clift to journalist W.J. Weatherby in 1960,
“I was remembering Monty Clift. People who aren’t fit to open the door for him sneer at his homosexuality. What do they know about it? Labels–people love putting labels on each other. Then they feel safe. People tried to make me into a lesbian. I laughed. No sex is wrong if there’s love in it.”
45. Her measurements were listed as the following by her Dressmakers; 35-22-35 and 36-24-24 by The Blue Book Modelling Agency. For the majority of her life she weighed between 117-120 pounds, with her weight fluctuating around 15 pounds, during and after her pregnancies (1957-1960), although her waist never ventured past 28.5 inches and her dress size today would be a UK Size 6-8 and a US Size 2-4 as she was a vintage Size 12.
46. Her famous white halter dress from The Seven Year Itch (1955) sold for $4.6 million ($5.6 million including auction fees) on June 18th 2011, which was owned by Debbie Reynolds. The “Happy Birthday Mr. President Dress” originally held the record for the most expensive dress, when it was sold on October 27th 1999 for $1.26 million. It then went on to be resold for $4.8 million on November 17th 2016, thus regaining it’s original achievement.
47. Was discovered by Photographer, David Conover, whilst working in The Radio Plane Munitions Factory in the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945, depending on sources.
48. Now known as the, “Me Too” movement, Marilyn was one of the first Stars to speak out on the, “Hollywood Wolves” in a 1953 article for Motion Picture Magazine entitled, “Wolves I Have Known”. The most famous incident being with the Head of Columbia Studios, Harry Cohn, who requested Marilyn join him on his yacht for a weekend away in Catalina Island. Marilyn asked if his wife would be joining them, which, as you can imagine – did not go down well and her contract was not renewed with the Studio. Marilyn made only one film with Columbia during her six month contract, this being Ladies Of The Chorus (1948) which was shot in just ten days!
49. Loved animals dearly and adopted a variety of pets over the years. These included a basset hound called Hugo and parakeets, Clyde, Bobo and Butch with Husband Arthur Miller. A number of cats including a persian breed called Mitsou in 1955 and Sugar Finney in 1959. Her most famous pet was gifted to her in March or April of 1961 by friend, Frank Sinatra, a little white maltese named Maf. His full name was Mafia Honey, as a humorous reference to Sinatra’s alleged connections to the Mob. After Marilyn’s death, Maf went to live with Frank Sinatra’s secretary, Gloria Lovell.
50. The book she was reading at the time of her death was Harper Lee’s, To Kill A Mocking Bird.
51. One of the movies she starred in was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture and won, this being All About Eve (1950) at The 23rd Academy Awards on March 29th 1951. It ended up being nominated for 14 Oscars, a record at the time and has only been matched by Titanic (1997) and La La Land (2016).
52. Her first magazine cover was photographed by Andre de Dienes in December 1945 for Family Circle, released on April 26th 1946.
53. Joined The William Morris Agency on December 7th 1948.
54. Was right handed, not left as often believed.
55. Third Husband Arthur Miller wrote the screenplay for Marilyn’s last completed film, The Misfits (1961) which was originally written as a short story for Esquire Magazine in 1957. After the tragic ectopic pregnancy Marilyn endured in August of 1957, friend and Photographer, Sam Shaw suggested to Miller he alter his short story specifically for her. Ironically the making of this film culminated in their divorce and Marilyn stating,
“He could have written me anything and he comes up with this. If that’s what he thinks of me then I’m not for him and he’s not for me.” 56. Was Author, Truman Capote’s original choice for the role of Holly Golightly in Breakfast At Tiffany’s (1961) however, she was advised to turn it down by her Acting Coach, Paula Strasberg, who did not think the role of a prostitute would be good for her image. Writer George Axelrod, who wrote the Screenplay for Bus Stop (1956) and the play, The Seven Year Itch, ironically ended up being the Screenwriter for this movie.
Capote said this regarding Marilyn,
“I had seen her in a film and thought she would be perfect for the part. Holly had to have something touching about her . . . unfinished. Marilyn had that.”
57. Second Husband Joe Dimaggio had The Parisian Florists deliver red roses on Marilyn’s grave twice a week, for twenty years, from August 1962 until September 1982. Marilyn had told him how William Powell used to do this for Jean Harlow after her death and he reportedly vowed to do the same after their Wedding Ceremony. After the 20 years he then donated to a children’s charity, as he thought it would be a nice way to honour her memory. They also created the flower arrangements for her casket at her funeral.
58. The following five Directors directed Marilyn in more than one movie;
– John Huston; The Asphalt Jungle (1950) and The Misfits (1961) – Richard Sale; A Ticket To Tomahawk (1950) and Let’s Make It Legal (1951) – Howard Hawks; Monkey Business (1952) and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – Billy Wilder; The Seven Year Itch (1955) and Some Like It Hot (1959) – George Cukor; Let’s Make Love (1960) and Something’s Got To Give (1962)
59. Was an illegitimate child, which unfortunately was attached with a lot of stigma in the 1920s. Her mother, Gladys, listed her then husband Edward Mortenson on the Birth Certificate, although it is commonly accepted that her real father was Charles Stanley Gifford, as Gladys left Edward on May 26th 1925. Gladys had an affair with him, which ended when she announced her pregnancy and he never acknowledged or met Marilyn, although she tried multiple times over the years to speak with him.
60. Stayed in a number of foster homes during her childhood,
– George and Emma Atkinson; February 1934 – September 1934 – Enid and Sam Knebelcamp; Fall of 1934 – Harvey and Elsie Giffen; January 1935 – March 1935 – Grace and “Doc” Goddard; April 1935 – September 1935 and June 1937 – November 1937 and end of 1940 – February 1942 – Ida Martin; November 1937 – August 1938 – “Aunt Ana” Lower; August 1938 – End of 1940 and February 1942
61. Had her hand and footprints immortalized in cement at Graumans Chinese Theatre on June 26th 1953, with Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) co-star, Jane Russell. Marilyn would place a rhinestone in the dot of the letter “i” as a reference to her character, “Lorelei Lee” but it was sadly stolen. This was an incredibly special moment for her, as she often talked about placing her hands and feet in the many prints there, when she spent her weekends at the Theatre as a child, especially in 1933 and 1934.
“When I was younger, I used to go to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and try to fit my foot in the prints in the cement there. And I’d say “Oh, oh, my foots too big. I guess that’s out.” I did have a funny feeling later when I finally put my foot down into that wet cement, I sure knew what it really meant to me, anything’s possible, almost.”
62. The famous gold lamé dress worn in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and designed by William Travilla, was deemed too risqué by the censors. Unfortunately for fans, this meant that the musical number, “Down Boy” was cut from the film and we only glimpse a few seconds of the dress from behind, on screen.
63. Due to the censors, the original, “Diamond’s Are A Girl’s Best Friend” costume was changed to the now iconic pink dress with black bow. Originally it was to be a diamond encrusted two piece, which was extremely daring for the then Motion Picture Hays Code.
64. Loved Erno Lazlo Skin Cream, Vaseline and Nivea Moisturizer.
65. Had she completed Something’s Got To Give (1962), Marilyn would have been the first Star in a major Motion Picture to appear nude on film. As she passed before it was completed the achievement went to fellow Blonde Bombshell, Jayne Mansfield in, Promises! Promises (1963).
66. Met Queen Elizabeth II in England at the Empire Theater in Leicester Square whilst attending the Premiere of, “The Battle Of The River Plate“ on October 29th 1956.
67. The Misfits (1961) was both Marilyn and Clark Gable’s last completed films. Clark died 12 days after filming finished, on November 16th 1960. The film was released on Clark’s would be 60th Birthday, February 1st 1961 and Marilyn passed 18 months later.
68. As Marilyn died before the completion of Something’s Got To Give (1962) it ended up being remade with Doris Day and James Garner, entitled, Move Over Darling! (1963). The film was originally intended to be a remake of, My Favourite Wife (1940) which starred Cary Grant.
69. Signed a recording contract with RCA Records on September 1st 1953. One of her songs from River of No Return (1954) entitled, “File My Claim” sold 75,000 copies in its first three weeks of release.
70. Was admitted to the Payne Whitney Psychiatric Clinic on February 10th 1961 by her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris. Originally thought to be for rest and rehabilitation, following her divorce from Arthur Miller and the strain of filming The Misfits. However, Marilyn was placed on the security ring and held against her will. Thankfully, she was able to contact ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio, who stated he would, “Take the hospital apart brick by brick” if she was not released and after three days of emotional trauma, she left.
71. Visited the following Countries;
– Canada – (July – August 1953) – Japan (February 1954) – Korea (Feburary 1954) – England (July – November 1956) – Jamaica (January 1957) – Mexico (February 1962)
72. Purchased her only home, 12305 Fifth Helena Drive on February 8th 1962, where she would tragically pass just under 6 months later.
73. The home had the following tile located on the front paving entrance saying, “cursum perficio” meaning, “my journey ends here.” The title is still there to this day.
74. Her final interview was published in LIFE Magazine on August 3rd 1962 and was written by Richard Meryman.
75. Aside from her millions of fans, had a staunch group of supporters affectionately known as, “The Monroe Six” who followed Marilyn around New York during her time there. Their nickname for Marilyn was, “Mazzie” and they became so acquainted that Marilyn actually once invited them for a picnic at her home.
76. First married at just sixteen years old, this was to avoid returning to the Orphanage she had spent almost two years in as a child.
77. Supported numerous charity events, most famously riding a pink elephant in Madison Square Garden, to support the Arthritis and Rheumatic Affections Association on March 30th 1955.
78. Left 25% of her Estate to her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris and 75% to mentor and friend, Lee Strasberg. For reference, her Will was last updated on January 1961 – a month before she entered the Payne Whitney Hospital on the advice of Marianne Kris.
79. At the time of it’s release, The Misfits (1961) turned out to be the most expensive black and white movie ever made, costing a budget of $4 million dollars.
80. The Premiere of The Seven Year Itch was held on her 29th Birthday, on June 1st 1955, she attended with ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio.
81. Laid to rest at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery on August 8th 1962 at 1:00 PM, with friend and mentor Lee Strasberg delivering the Eulogy.
82. Although so often associated with diamonds, actually wasn’t that fond of jewellery stating, “People always ask me if I believe diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Frankly, I don’t.”
83. Spent her 36th Birthday filming Something’s Got To Give (1962) and then attending a Charity Event for muscular dystrophy at the Chavez Ravin Dodger Stadium, which also happened to be her last public appearance.
84. Whilst recovering in hospital from an appendectomy in April 1952, Marilyn asked long time Makeup Artist and friend, Allan “Whitey” Snyder to do her makeup, should she pass before him. She gave him a gold money clip with the inscription, “Whitey Dear, while I’m still warm, Marilyn” and he did fulfill this promise to her.
85. Converted to Judaism for third husband, Arthur Miller on July 1st 1956.
86. Despite appearing in 30 films, she only actually dies in one, that being her breakout movie, Niagara (1953) where her character Rose Loomis, is strangled by her Husband George, played by Joseph Cotten.
87. Moved to New York City in 1955 and attended The Actors Studio, after breaking her Film Contract with 20th Century Fox. This was for a number of reasons, mainly years of low pay, unsatisfactory scripts and lack of creative control. A new contract would finally be reinstated on December 31st.
88. Repurchased a white Baby Grand Piano that her mother, Gladys, owned during their time living together in 1933. After Marilyn passed it would then be sold at the Christies Auction of her Estate in 1999 to none other than, Mariah Carey for $632,500.
89. Wore long hair pieces in River of No Return (1954) and a medium length wig in The Misfits (1961). The first I can only assume was due to the time period and setting of a Western and the second was due to the bleach damage her hair had suffered. After the filming in 1960, she wore the wig a couple of times in public events and then reverted back to her normal hair.
90. Like all students, it was tradition to perform in front of each other in The Actors Studio and on February 17th 1955, Marilyn acted out a scene from “Anna Christie” with Maureen Stapleton. Although it was an unwritten rule that students were not meant to applaud one another, an eruption of cheers and clapping happened after Marilyn had finished.
“Everybody who saw that says that it was not only the best work Marilyn ever did, it was some of the best work ever seen at Studio, and certainly the best interpretation of Anna Christie anybody ever saw. She achieved real greatness in that scene.”
– Actor Ellen Burstyn, on recalling Marilyn’s performance.
91. Used the pseudonym, “Zelda Zonk“, when trying to remain incognito.
92. Marilyn’s mother, Gladys Baker, suffered from Paranoid Schizophrenia and after various stays in institutions, was declared insane on January 15th 1935, when Marilyn was just 8 years old. After 10 years she was released and managed to retain various cleaning jobs and had developed an intense interest in Christian Science. However, by 1951 she was back in various institutions and would stay in the Rockhaven Sanitarium until 1967. Even after death, Marilyn continued to cover her mother’s care payments and Gladys would go on to outlive her for 22 years.
93. Favourite photograph of herself was taken by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.
94. Last professional photos were taken by Bert Stern, famously known as “The Last Sitting” for Vogue Magazine on June 23rd, July 10th and 12th 1962. Allan Grant took the LIFE Magazine interview pictures in her home, on July 4th and 9th 1962. Whilst George Barris took his photos for Cosmopolitan Magazine, the previous weekend on the 29th and 30th of June, until July 1st 1962. ______________________________________________________________________________
To those of you who took the time to read through all 3000+ words, thank you! It truly means more to me than you know and I really hope it’s shed some light on the truly special person Marilyn was and made you hold a good thought for her on her big day.
Follow me at;
BLOGLOVIN
INSTAGRAM
TUMBLR
TWITTER
YOUTUBE
For inquiries or collaborations contact me at;
Happy 94th Birthday Marilyn! Today is a very special day, it's Marilyn's Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive, Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today - just two months younger than the Queen herself!
#1940s#1950s#1960s#angel#blonde bombshell#classic hollywood#hollywood#icon#legend#marilyn#marilyn monroe#norma jeane#norma jeane baker#old hollywood
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
baby, let’s go home
part four
v.
They are thirteen when Theo's father gets diagnosed with prostate cancer. Theo's great-grandfather died of the same illness. He's undergoing radiation therapy, and their parents tell him his dad is faring just fine. But Theo hears them talk, and he hears Tara cry. They tell him not to be, but he's scared all the same.
Stiles stays up at night all over the computer screen, which was a gift from Theo's parents just months ago. In the morning, he buries his nose in numerous books. At school, he's always beside Theo whenever he can.
Theo gets the feeling that they're babying him on top of lying and keeping him in the dark.
He snaps at Stiles when he turns up late in the dispatch area after class. His mother drives them now, to and from the school, since his dad got sick. Stiles opens his mouth to apologize, but Theo cuts him off.
"If you have all the time in the world to waste," his face is twisted and red. There's something at the back of his mind that's warning him as he speaks that he ignores. It is strange; he's never been angry with Stiles. But he is today. "I don't. I could be doing something better than wait for your ass while you're in the fricking library!"
"Theo!" His mom exclaims, horrified at his behavior.
They get into the car; Theo's fuming and Stiles quiet.
When they arrive home, Theo promptly locks himself in the bedroom, screaming to the pillows. He falls asleep in an exhausted rage and wakes up when it's almost dark outside to a soft rapping on the door.
He exhales and jumps down from his bunk. It's Stiles on the other side. Of course, this is his bedroom too. There's only a slight twinge of guilt mixing with Theo's overall sour mood.
Stiles hesitates, then, "It's only us and Tara tonight."
His brows arch in expectation.
"Your mom rushed out about twenty minutes ago," Stiles fiddles with his fingers as he struggles with words. "A colleague called her. Your dad's in the hospital."
Theo processes the information for a moment and, if possible, gets even angrier with what he hears. Fisting his hands, he stomps past Stiles, jostling his shoulder, down the steps, into the living room where Tara sits bent on herself. Her head is dipped low, and her hands are clasped together as if in silent supplication.
The sight of her only intensifies his fury. Theo rounds on Tara, who looks up to her brother with shiny eyes. "What is going on?" He demands, heaving, words rushing out of him all at once. "Why is nobody telling me anything? I'm thirteen! I would hurt now, too, if dad died. I have the right to know if I'm about to lose a parent!"
It is evident that something is terribly wrong when instead of calling him out for lashing, Tara sags into the couch and covers her face with her hands, breaking down into the cushions.
He doesn't remember moving, or walking away from Tara, or riding his bike, but he somehow ends up in the lake. He picks up stones in the path and throws them in the water, one-by-one; the bigger splash, the better.
He screams with every rock he launches. He loses count of how many there have been, but his last one is a stone double the size of Theo's fist. He raises it over his head, leans his body backward, and hurtles forward with the force of his throw.
It hits the water in a loud plop, promptly sinks, and creates big ripples in the water.
He's wheezing, hands in his knees, sweaty, throat and mouth dry and hoarse. Only a portion of his anger abates, but now that it's out of the way, he feels himself dropping to the ground for a different reason. He hasn't felt this in a long time - the last was just before he realized there aren't monsters coming out of closets.
He's terrified out of his mind.
There are more than a few times his parents disappointed his little boy's heart. Their work takes them many places, requires most of their time, thus leaving Tara and Theo to the care of strangers. They're more frequently gone than around. But when they are, they make every second worthwhile, and to Theo, it makes up for their absence. He's not going to lie and say he isn't still bitter for all the missed opportunities, but he loves them. He loves them with all his thirteen-year-old heart could give. He loves his mom and dad, and this fear of possibly losing one of them is consuming him.
He bends his knees and bows his head and cries like never in years. He's a tough kid, he knows, but today he wants to claw at his chest because it feels crushed inside. He wants to soothe it a little -to make it stop constricting too much.
All of a sudden, a weight settles behind him. Arms embrace him as a head leans on his back. Theo doesn't need to look to know who it is. There's only one who could provide the most comfort just by being around.
Stiles doesn't say anything. He kneels and hugs Theo from behind. He's never met another person as tactile as Stiles. Once he's opened up to Theo's family, he makes it a point to touch them always: a small kiss for Theo's mom, a high-five with his dad, leaning his head on Tara's shoulder and pressing close to Theo during the movie nights.
Stiles has never told anyone he loves them, and he's grateful, and he's happy to have them. He doesn't have to.
"I'm sorry," Theo breaks the comfortable silence when he's calm enough, reassured by the other boy's presence. "that I locked you out."
Stiles shifts a little behind him but doesn't pull away. Theo thinks he nods. "I read about prostate cancer," is what he says. "I saw this website where survivors share their stories. I emailed them to your dad. I was hoping it would help."
Theo's chest clench again. He bites his lower lip.
"And then I borrowed a few books from the library so I could read facts about it. I found out quite a lot of things," Stiles pauses. "Do you want me to tell you?"
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Theo nods.
So Stiles tells him what he knows from reading. During the entire informative speech, Stiles moves from hugging Theo to putting one arm around him and sitting beside him on the grass facing the now dark lake.
"So, yes, it's a pretty scary illness," Stiles says after a lengthy explanation of its diagnosis, treatment, and recovery procedures. "I asked your mom, and she was pretty surprised that I know about the Gleason Scale. But she told me your dad's score is 7 - intermediate."
Theo turns slightly to his side. Stiles is busy watching the lake as he talks, and Theo is left to study at the moles dotting one side of his face as he listens.
"I didn't mean to, but I also saw a letter from a Dr. Henshaw in the mail. I searched for him. He's a urologist from Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, and I saw a lot of good feedback," Stiles looks sideways to Theo. This up-close, Theo can see how light his brown eyes are. Stiles must have mistaken his silent gawking as confusion because he smirks a little. "A urologist is a specialist for the male reproductive system, including the prostate."
Theo's listening, he is, but all he can manage to do is nod.
Stiles smiles, "I think they're considering a surgery, which is probably the best option, Theo. We just have to," he reflects, eyes glossing for a moment, then finishes. "be there for him."
Theo has half a mind to forget the sad expression on Stiles's face, but he recognizes what it is. He knows Stiles well and the emotions that pass him.
"Just like you were there for your mom?"
He startles for a second, the subject coming unexpectedly, and then nods with a curl in his lips. "Until the end."
Theo takes Stiles's arms off his shoulder and entwines their fingers instead, holding on firmly. He doesn't have words. He has so much to say to Stiles - how everything is better with him, how Theo clings on to the brightness he creates for everyone despite the shadows around him that he continues to fight.
In the end, Theo decides with, "Thank you, Stiles."
Stiles beams in the night that settles over the lake. The sun has been down for a while.
He bumps a fisted hand to Theo's shoulder, "That's what best friends are for, Raeken."
"I'm glad you're mine," then, squinting his eyes and side-eyeing Stiles, he adds. "Even though you're a pain in the ass sometimes."
Stiles laughs, and Theo's worries fade.
Somehow, with Stiles, he starts to believe. He's not going to lose his dad. They're frightened, reasonably so, but they're going to be okay.
Stiles untangles their fingers to stand, patting away the dirt at the back of his pants. He turns to Theo and extends his hand down to him.
"Let's go home, Theo."
~•~
title from: Hold On by Chord Overstreet
#steo#steo au#steo fic#steo ficlet#baby let's go home#part 4#stiles stilinski#theo raeken#stiles x theo#teen wolf#fics tag
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why I hate Grace.
I was giving my thoughts on Peaky Blinders a few weeks ago and I danced around the subject of my dislike for this character but didn’t have time/room to get it all out. So here it is! Grace fans, you probably want to look away now. So to me, Grace is kind of symbolic of the bad writing on Peaky Blinders, which is especially egregious because usually the writing of the show is good. But right off the bat, her arrival creates a number of plotholes that don't resonate with Tommy's character. Just for a start, nobody seems to find it suspicious that an apparently attractive woman (seriously, people go on and on about how pretty Grace is and while it's not as though she's ugly at all, you can't help but wonder if the Peaky boys merely think so because she's the only woman of significance not related to them) is so determined to be a barmaid in The Garrison, where Tommy, upon seeing her, immediately asks her if she's a whore. Grace is understandably offended by the question, which again makes you wonder why she'd want to work somewhere where such a question isn't just an assumption, but the first thing Tommy asks - we know she's a spy, but the other characters don't.
Then, Tommy corners Grace and starts asking why she keeps being so nosy about the Blinders and their business. They go for a walk and Tommy asks Grace if she's a Catholic. She says she is, but when Tommy points out that no good Catholic girl would walk into a church without making the cross, he immediately exposes her as a liar and points out he also knows that she lied to him about what town she was from, because he asked around and nobody had ever heard of her. So what does he do? He...promotes her to being his secretary? What?
Okay, so you might argue that Tommy puts her in said position to keep an eye on her, or thinks she might be useful if she has the balls to lie to him, but she tells such an easy-to-unravel lie and her excuse is because she wants to "fit in". Again, he lets her off the hook but she covers up a lie with an even more obvious one - if Grace cared about fitting in, she'd make more of an effort to do so, but she keeps demanding Tommy let her sing in the pub and asks questions above her station to Arthur, which got reported back to Tommy. Sure, it's her job to spy on the Peaky boys, but she's so transparent about it that it's honestly ridiculous that Tommy would ever put her in a position that close to his personal affairs. Not to mention, Grace is so inexplicably haughty towards Tommy, telling him, "You disappoint me" when he kisses her. You'd think if she was good at her job, she'd learn to shut her mouth and keep her head down like a decent spy, but she always acts as if she's better than Tommy because, like Polly points out, she's a spoiled little rich girl at heart and she does think herself above the Shelby's.
Then Tommy completely inexplicably chooses to give Grace a fucking gun and tells her some men are going to come in and try to kill him and he's relying on her to bail him out. I know the cops were meant to come in at the stroke of six and they fuck up, but WHY would you ever place that level of trust in someone you already know is a liar? Sorry, but I just don't buy that Tommy was blinded by "love". I can buy that maybe he was curious about Grace, possibly even fancied her a bit, but definitely not so stupid that he thinks it's a good idea to put his fucking life in the hands of a woman he knows basically nothing about. She could have fallen out of the sky for all he knows. Tommy even continues to trust Grace after she kills an IRA guy right in front of him because she sobs, "I didn't know I had it in me like that", yet she disobeyed his instructions and whenever Arthur or John do that, Tommy gives them a bollocking. He lets Grace off, again, for seemingly no reason other than she played the damsel in distress role and he buys it. This doesn't make Tommy look like a smart man blinded by love, it just makes him look like an idiot around Grace.
Also, there seems to be an uncomfortable level in Tommy/Grace of Tommy getting a kick out of using Grace to piss Campbell off. It's pretty obvious Campbell has a creepy crush on her, and Tommy exploits that for all it's worth when he explicitly rings Campbell to inform him that he's going to bang Grace. (Incidentally, their sex scene made me go, "Oh, I guess they're gonna fuck now. Yup." It was like they did it because the screenwriter said so.) He's basically cucking Campbell and I think it's a big reason why even Grace fans admit that she's "not as good" in Season Two - Grace just doesn't work without Campbell around. At least in Season One you can argue that every shitty thing Grace does to Tommy/the Peaky Blinders is partly because of her job as a spy and Campbell is her boss. In Season Two, there are no excuses for the way Grace acts. She's a selfish, self-righteous hypocrite. She jumps at the chance to go to Birmingham on the offchance it was Tommy who called, then acts all offended when he assumes she came to sleep with him, to the point she actually smacks him in the face. What does Tommy do about this? Nothing. When Grace complains they could have run away to New York together, all Tommy says is, "I had things to do", instead of asking Grace why she thinks he'd abandon his family, business, friends and country all to chase after the woman who sold him out to his worst enemy. Grace honestly expected Tommy to put her first after everything she did to him. I won't act like Tommy is a saint in this - he did nearly pimp her out to Billy Kimber - but at least he acknowledges it was wrong of him to do and he never acts like he occupies any moral highground like Grace does. When Grace admits she sold Tommy out, she sobs she "did a terrible thing," yet never tries to actually help him out in a way that would put her at risk - she quit her position, sure, but Campbell's creepiness had gone so far as to propose marriage to her, Grace was still looking out for herself when she left, because it got her away from Campbell. She asked Campbell to spare him, knowing full well that Campbell has wanted Tommy dead since day one. She plays the damsel in distress again and she's pissed when Tommy doesn't fall for it a second time. Then when she talks about her husband, she tries to rub it in Tommy's face how he's “a good, kind man”, but then quickly backtracks on that to fuck Tommy anyway because her husband is impotent - and Grace just can't deal with not getting what she wants. Tommy's rich enough to afford to buy a house for Ada and Polly by this point, he's running Birmingham and seeking to expand into London, so Grace pulls the oldest trick in the book and gets pregnant - then Tommy has to do the responsible thing and marry her, because the baby is his and it's literally the only piece of leverage she has over May. (May even points out that she's been stringing Tommy along and all Grace can do is throw the fact that "Grace's Secret" is the horse's name at her. Again though, did Tommy call it that to piss off Campbell? This was before Grace returned to Small Heath but after Campbell had, so I think yes.)
Then in Season Three, again, Grace is pretty much a pointless character, because she has no purpose anymore outside of being "Tommy's wife". Campbell is dead and so the conflict of her character in Season One, as contrived as that was, is gone. People complain about Grace being stuffed into a fridge and whatnot, (and tbh, you could say that about Freddie, but Freddie also served his purpose in Season One after he buried the hatchet with Tommy), but honestly I think that it was all they could think to do with her because Charlotte Riley was unable to pick up her role as May for Season Three, so they had to work around it. It's the only explanation I can think of about why Grace is just such a blatantly awful person in the Second Season - I've heard people say before that Tommy leaving the field after his assassination was prevented would have been the perfect ending to the season, but that scene at the end where he returns to The Garrison and announces he's getting married seemed really hastily tacked-on - I feel like it was added because they were forced to rewrite the drafts for Season Three and put whatever plans for May they had on the shelf. Not to mention, Grace's actress Annabelle Wallis has apparently stated she hates May because she's "annoying" and "gets inbetween Tommy and Grace". No, Grace got in the way of Tommy and Grace - she's the one who chose to leave Birmingham after she got exposed as a Mole instead of taking the consequences! And also, how is May the annoying one? At least she doesn’t whisper all her lines. It's just so immature of the actress to bash on the character and encourage ship wars, especially considering Grace comes out the winner of the love triangle, so what's the bitterness about? (I've not heard what her opinion is on Lizzie, but I doubt it's as hostile, because it's made obvious in the show that Tommy doesn't love Lizzie the same and the poor girl is constantly competing with a dead woman for her husband's love.) Plus, in Season Three, the wedding is all about not upsetting Grace, Tommy's family have to play nice with Grace's family, and Polly is once again the only person who knocks Grace's smug ass down a peg by reminding her that the family haven't forgiven or forgotten Grace's crimes against them - the only reason they're putting up a pretence of tolerating her is for Tommy's sake. Not hers. Not everybody in the world wants to accommodate Grace. Killing Grace was honestly the highlight of the entire Season, because I couldn't stand watching her smirking over how she got everything she wanted when she didn't pay for any of it. (Polly is also the only one who comments on how Tommy has conveniently forgotten all the shit she pulled on him and Tommy acts like she was a totally innocent bystander when she got killed and it’s like, no, Tommy, baby. Grace knew what she was getting into when she married him and he knew that - it’s pretty much common knowledge that everybody who is even tangentially associated with the Peaky Blinders gets hurt eventually, just look at how Ada was nearly gangraped even though she hadn’t been involved with the family business for two years.)
Come Season Four and Five and there's already a problem here - there is still more to talk about with Grace, even though she’s dead and Tommy spends most of Season Three rampaging over her death. But he just inexplicably won't let go of her. And again, this doesn't come across as Tommy being so in love with Grace he can't fathom a world without her, it comes off like her actress has dirt on the director or something. He constantly hallucinates the bitch, we hear her singing all the time, it's kind of implied that Tommy prefers Charles over Ruby because Charles a boy and has a saintly dead mummy while Ruby is the daughter of a former whore (not that Tommy doesn't love Ruby, obviously, because he absolutely does), and what really annoys me about Tommy hallucinating Grace is that she's the only character he does this with. He doesn't dream about Greta, his first love, he doesn't dream of Danny or Freddie or his mother. He doesn't even fucking dream about John! Remember John, Tommy's little brother he knew his entire life? Apparently nobody else does! No, it's always all about Grace, who keeps helpfully telling Tommy to hurry up and kill himself so he can be with her again. This doesn’t seem like an out-of-character, guilt-induced vision - it mimicks her attitude in Season Two, that nothing else in his life can be as important as she is.
And that's why I hate Grace. (Please don’t send me rude or hateful messages over this post, it’s just my opinion and it’s pretty much irrelevant anyway since I doubt Stephen Knight is going to stop using Grace up as some kind of martyred dead saint anytime soon. I just wanted to get this rant out of my system.)
582 notes
·
View notes
Note
Steter fics from 2019/any Steter fics you feel like reccing
2019 Steter fics, let’s see… Here’s a bunch of random ones I’ve enjoyed over the past year:
Where I Want to Be by Tahlruil
Peter wasn’t exactly surprised when he ‘woke up’ in hell.
He’d known his wounds were fatal as soon as he’d gotten them. In truth he’d never expected to still be standing after his quest for revenge had been completed. What mattered was taking the Argent family down with him and making sure they died before he did. Peter had saved Kate and Gerard for last; they had looked into his eyes as they bled out. They had known that he was the instrument of their family’s doom and he couldn’t ask for more than that.
You Are A Call To Motion by neglectedtuesday
Here at Hale Industries ® we don’t believe in limiting one’s pleasure. That’s why we’re dedicated to bringing our clientele the best in Jackbot technology. Whether you’re a busy dom in need of a service sub or a baby boy desperate for an Alien Daddy, Hale Industries ® has the perfect bot for you. Built to your specifications, our customer service team is devoted to building a bot that will never fail to meet your needs. And if you discover something new you want to try, you can subscribe to our monthly upgrade packages in order to add or remove kinks at your leisure.
Hale Industries ® - The Only Limits Are The Ones We Place On Ourselves.
Here Begins the Land of Phantoms by Triangulum
Stiles is four and scared of the dark. There are things in the shadows of his room, whispering to him, showing him terrible, violent things.
There’s something in the basement, too. He can feel it while he’s sitting on the old, worn sofa, its presence curling around the edges of the room. He thinks he can see something sometimes, a mass shimmering in the corner, but he always looks away. He doesn’t want to know.
Or
Peter is a demon that lives in the Stilinskis’ basement.
From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen
“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”
“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.
“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.
MCSZ-LW by Bunnywest
Mayor Whittemore gives John his widest politician’s smile. “It’s one of the best- a Halebot. You work so hard for the city, and with Claudia gone five years now, we thought you’d appreciate some company. A service bot is perfect. I mean, you deserve more than the standard gift certificate. “
“Would have preferred the gift card,” John huffs under his breath, but he plasters on a smile and makes all the right noises, because this is an elected position, and as jackbots go, Halebots really are the best. He just doesn’t know quite what he’s going to do with it.
Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
“What. Is that.”
Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.
“Her name’s Lily.”
Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.
“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”
“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”
“Who the fuck is Becca?!”
Care for Me, As I’ve Never Known by lavenderlotion
“Why…why did you offer me the bite?” Stiles asked quietly, the cover of night and the hum of the Jeep’s engine giving him courage he wouldn’t usually have.
Peter hummed thoughtfully, taking a turn smoothly. “That is quite the question you’re asking. I’m not sure the answer is one you would be happy to hear.”
A Love for Millennia (a story never told) by OneSmartChicken
Stiles had to go into the woods that night. It didn’t make sense. She was lured by the sense of adventure, but there was a more that dragged at her.
Or: Stiles is the only one to realize she and Peter are soulmates. She doesn’t mention it.
Wind Chimes by wynnebat
“Why are you here?” Peter asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can understand curiosity, but Stiles, you have visited me nearly every day for years. It can’t be that simple.”
Stiles shrugs. It’s both simple and not. For him, who grew up with the wind, who is inseparable from it in the best of ways, it is absurdly simple. For Peter, who doesn’t trust the wind as Stiles does, it may not be. “The wind says you’re mine. That’s all I need.”
Robber Foxes (Have No Fears) by RayShippouUchiha (WIP)
In the end all Stiles really has left is his dad, a lonely house, the key and deed to the loft, and a chest filled up with emptiness.
A void, yawning right behind his sternum.
That and the laughter of a fox trapped right beneath his skin, echoing in the hollows of his skull, whispering behind his teeth.
Stiles should have known it wasn’t over.
Magic stains everything it touches after all.
Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion
Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.
Into Eden by GracieBirdie
Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he’d hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn’t turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.
Trust in the End by ShebaRen, Tahlruil
Stiles had always kind of assumed that the end of the world was going to be full of fire and panicking people. Nuclear warfare had pretty much been his guess as to how it would all go, but he could be flexible on that. His only certainty was that it would be man-made, because people always messed things up.
He hadn’t expected the end to be full of snow and freezing cold. He hadn’t expected to be so alone while it was happening, hadn’t thought he would be making a trek from California all the way up to - if his maps and bearings were right - Washington State. He definitely hadn’t expected for it all to happen while his parents were away on a trip for their second honeymoon.
Thankfully he’d fallen in with a wolf who had saved his life and then hung around like a bad penny afterward.
Making Marks by Udunie
Stiles woke to his phone ringing at four in the afternoon, because apparently, he’d never even heard of a healthy sleep schedule before, and also; hated himself.
He blindly found it in the pocket of his jeans thrown haphazardly to the floor, and blinked at it for a few seconds before picking it up.
“‘Sup, Lyds?” he asked, just because he knew she hated the nickname, and she did wake him up.
“I’m killing Jackson,” she announced with unusual honesty. To be fair, any kind of honesty was unusual from her, considering her and Stiles only reconnected recently - and it wasn’t like they were too close in high school either.
“Congratulations?”
You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga
“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.
Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.
“You can call me Mietek.”
Or the one where there’s time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.
Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru
“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”
“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”
“You’ll know, mały płomień.”
Everyone is King When There’s No One Left to Pawn by Bittah_Wizard
The AU where Stiles is an old trickster—just not the one you’re thinking of.
Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.
“Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them.”
What the f—
Wild Creatures by neglectedtuesday
The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.
First to Know by Twisted_Mind
They fold to their knees in the vee of his legs. His hands cradle their cheek and the back of their neck, and they lean into the touch, eyes closing. “It’s mine.”
“What’s yours, darling?”
They drag in a shaky breath, and look up into the face of the man they love. “The magic. It’s mine. My spark did this.”
Chances by SpookyMiscreant
Supernaturals have soulmarks, everyone knew that, but it was ignorant to think that supernaturals only fell in love with supernaturals. It wasn’t necessarily rare for humans to have marks, but not common either. Supernatural kids all anxiously await the full moon after their fifth birthday, but human kids let the full moon pass without much anticipation.Stiles’ mother had made him stay up that night in his underwear as she searched him with a flashlight, intent to see if he was supernatural like his father. The inherent problem here was that Stiles was then and always will be covered head to toe in moles, freckles, and birthmarks.
walk walk (fashion baby) by rightsidethru
Derek shrugged a shoulder and moved the chopsticks through the broth. “Cora’s decided that she wants to transfer out to Berkley, and Uncle Peter has decided to relocate here again. Unfortunately, his reputation is preceding him and not even the three grand we’re offering for the photoshoot is enough to get a model to stay.”
At hearing the amount of money that Derek was actually offering to pay someone for one temporary job, Stiles choked on his noodles and began wheezing for breath as he went into a coughing fit. “Three? Three grand? Three thousand dollars??”
Three thousand dollars would be enough to pay for his rent for the next few months. Or—pay for the upcoming month and give Stiles a chance to buy some of the more advanced books on magical theory that Elder Potter was willing to let Stiles borrow but not keep. Being able to buy his own copies… Stiles’ fingers twitched in almost immediate booklust.
“I’ll do it,” Stiles announced.
Cause I Want You (all to myself) by LadySlytherin
Stiles has an odd habit of licking Peter, seemingly at random and without much thought. Peter takes a lot longer than he should to figure out why.
or
Six Times Stiles Stilinski Licked Peter Hale…and one time Peter licked Stiles instead.
If I Could Kiss You Again by Triangulum
“Summer plans?” Peter asks, eyes on where Isaac is now trying to inch along the ceiling beam toward the wall where he can slide down a pipe.
“Leaving for Stanford in September. Saving the world and working in between now and then,” Stiles says. “Why, gonna miss me?”
“Considering I’ll be left alone with Derek? Yes,” Peter says.
“You’ll have Cora,” Stiles says. “And Isaac will be here to make up a few high school credits.”
There’s a shriek and a thud as Isaac loses his grip, falling on top of Erica and Boyd, sending them all to the ground in a heap.
“Yes,” Peter says flatly. “Thank god for that.”
OR
Five times Stiles kisses Peter and one time Peter kisses him.
Orbital Distance by neglectedtuesday
Artemis, the capital city of the Moon, where movies are born and stars are made. The crown jewel of American cinema and simultaneously Hollywood’s biggest rival. The money may be dollars, it may be counted as the 51st state but the studios run this city, making cinema and waging war. No real bloodshed but equally cutthroat in its own way. Peter has devoured article after article about the industry, from in-depth journalism to gossip rags, desperate for every detail, every scandal, every glorious moon moment.
Hooverville by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
Town to town, train to train, tent to tent.
By 1932, the dust had begun to blow and the jobs were gone.
Anonymity was a byproduct of looking for work, which made it both necessary and convenient.
Stiles had enough secrets of his own to know to look the other way when he saw something that shouldn’t be possible.
The ghost of a tail giving enough balance to disembark a moving train.
Near silent Latin whispered on the edge of a tent encampment.
A flash of burning eyes.
He had more than enough to worry about without adding the oddities of others, and besides- having unusually sharp teeth certainly didn’t make a man worse than the ones running from the wife and kids they couldn’t feed.
So Stiles kept his observations to himself. He kept his everything to himself.
Until he met a man. One with eyes so blue they seemed to glow- and then they did.
Stiles tried to look away, but for the first time he was stopped.
“Don’t be like that sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?”
Rhythm of the War Drums by HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan)
The foreboding song of the drums rumbled through the stands above, made his heart, his blood pound with their increasing rhythm. He’d seen this so many times now, heard the sickening, morbid excitement of the rabble. He readied himself for the carnage, but even nearly a year after he’d first stood in this spot, it still filled him with dread.
As always, he watched the sandy arena through the barred steel gates. They vibrated with the movement, with the almost deafening sounds of the crowd and the drums. A sea of guards stood at his back, but they were not there for him…
Two Worlds Collided by Bittah_Wizard
It was always meant to be Stiles and Peter.
Always.
A Stranger Comes to Town by Bunnywest, DiscontentedWinter, Twisted_Mind
Peter claps his hands together once. “Right! Let’s start getting to know each other, shall we? We can all take turns introducing ourselves, and explaining who we are as writers. I’ll go first.” He stays standing, and spreads his arms wide for a moment. “As I hope you all know, I’m bestselling author Peter Hale. If there’s been a terrible mistake and you didn’t mean to be here, this is your chance to run.”
He gives another charming smile to the tittering biddies on his right. He sketches a dramatic little bow, and then goes on. “Twice a year, I come out here to teach The Masterclass on writing, providing new talent,” he winks at the MFA-wannabes on the left, tucking his hands in his pockets, “with a safe environment to share your work and equip yourselves with the tools for success. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all this weekend.”
Keep You Like An Oath by Green
After 7 years in prison, Peter has important matters to attend to — and at the top of his list is the young mate he left behind, unclaimed for their own protection. But, for all his good intentions, Stiles has always needed him — now more than ever.
Too Much Of A Good Thing by GracieBirdie
Stiles can’t just leave Boyd and Erica chained up in a hunter’s basement, and if the only person willing to listen to him when he asks for help is a formerly dead psychopath? Well, Stiles supposes he could do worse. But of course nothing in Stiles’ life is ever just that simple…
All The Things We’d Do by GracieBirdie
Stiles’ time travel spell doesn’t work out quite right but he figures he should make the best of it, starting with Laura Hale.
The Promises Of Yesterday, The Pledges Of Tomorrow by ShippersList
Stiles is a kid with serious concentration issues and definitely not a guide—let alone a guide strong enough to calm down a feral Sentinel wolf. It’s just not possible.
Thighs Verse by Bunnywest
I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir.
The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile.
Or, the one in which Stiles experiments with Grindr, and finds his Sir.
The Boy Sleuth by Shey
Stiles is eight when he discovers a box of his mom’s old Nancy Drew Mysteries in the back of the guest bedroom closet.
Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”
Escaping by Green
“We have to go. Now, Peter.”
Peter’s holding his apartment door open, standing in shock, looking at Stiles. “What? How do you even know where I live?”
The Chasm and the Clash by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
Stiles has dreams of the Alpha after he dies. It makes no sense. He didn’t know Peter before… did he?
Did Peter know him?
And why does his head hurt so much?
357 notes
·
View notes
Text
About a boy (Part-15 Final)
Word count: 2.6K
Warning: Feels, mentions of physical abuse and child-trafficking. Did I mention feels?
Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, Will, OCs and… Sam?
Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?
A/N: The last one, guys! Thank you for all your love <3
All my love to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story <3
About a boy masterlist
“All your stuff is in here,” Dean said, putting the bag on the counter. “Your clothes, books, and everything else.”
The last thing Dean had wanted to do was to go back to the Orphanage, especially now that there was no one there. Better him than Will, though. Which was why he had made up his mind and asked Bobby to make the detour. The place looked haunted, now that it was completely empty, save for the few cops doing rounds and working on the evidence.
Shuffling through Will’s things had made him realise how impersonal all of them were. Most of his clothes were used and donated ones. The five pairs of clothes, including those that he slept in, did not fit him well. The majority of the trunk under his bed was just books- Old, yellowed and tattering books.
Dean had been staring out of the window lost in thought when Bobby made a pit stop outside a shopping centre.
“We have to get something his size for the kid. He can’t step out of the hospital tomorrow in these clothes.”
Dean had to admit; Bobby had been pretty awesome about the whole deal. It had been all trial and error when it had come to raising Dean, but now he knew what he was doing. Will had thanked both Bobby and Jody profusely for wanting to adopt him, and it had taken some convincing to get it through his head that it wasn’t charity or a favour. They really wanted him to be a part of their family.
Convincing him had been mostly easy. The hard part was the Kensingtons. They weren’t willing to let go of Will and were ready to get dirty about it. With all the drama, child services had stepped in. It wasn’t like the Kensingtons could drag Will away with them, but this meant a substantial delay till the paperwork was sorted. Will was stuck here, and Dean wasn’t going to leave him alone in all this. It meant renting a cheap motel for the month, but hey, it was still a million times better than the orphanage.
Presently, Will blinked at the bag. “You went back to that place?”
He could walk now and manage to do most things by himself.
“Sure! Here, try this one on,” Dean said, throwing the new t-shirt on the bed. It was black and had ‘π-rate’ printed on it next to the face of an eye-patch wearing bearded man. “We picked this for you on our way here. See if it fits. There’s a few more inside the bag.”
Will stared at the t-shirt like it was something alien and the expression tugged at something inside Dean.
It was the little things that broke Dean’s heart. Before, he wouldn’t have cared about getting a new shirt, but all this was so new for Will. No one had ever bought him anything; something specially for him and completely his.
This was just the first of many, and Dean was going to be there for all the rest.
It was still subduing to walk Will to the temp centre at Child services. It was a comfortable place, and Dean had promised Will that he would be here as much as he could. Though Will still looked morose going in, like he was doubtful his happiness was lasting.
That night, Dean couldn’t get much sleep between nightmares of Will calling out to him as Andy dragged him into the car and cries of baby Sam when Dean had carried him out of their burning house. He spent the whole night tossing and turning, then woke up late in the morning. It was already too bright outside the window when Dean sat up groggily. Beside him, Bobby’s bed was empty.
He checked the clock. 10:17. Dammit!
What would Will think? Dean had promised to be there early in the morning and now even Bobby had disappeared to some place.
So he did all he could. He washed himself and got dressed for the day, then paced around the room waiting for Bobby, fixing the tiny messes in the room, like empty food bags and burger wrappers. Eventually Dean found himself back on his bed, his bags emptied on the covers.
God, there was so much mess.
He should have cleaned his trunk at least once when he had been living in the dorm, because now there was a gross mouldy half eaten bagel there that he didn’t even remember having touched. Ever.
He hadn’t added anything to what he had left with from Sioux Falls, except some school books. Underneath the pile of clothes, his hand hit something solid. Slowly, Dean pulled out the long rosewood box that Bobby had given him. In all the crazy mess, he had never had the time to actually go through it.
Dean opened it cautiously. The contents had of course remained unchanged, though he was stuck by the power of them all the same. He ran his fingers lightly over the baby angel, and the silver charm bracelet. Maybe it had belonged to his mother, maybe it was an anniversary gift from his dad. The small folding knife was jammed at first, but when Dean pried it open, it gleamed wicked sharp. The inside was etched with H.W. Maybe it had belonged to some long lost family member. Each of the objects was a ‘maybe,’ a story in itself. A story which Dean would never know.
He turned to the black and white pictures, especially to the one where his mom was holding him from behind. If Dean hadn’t known for sure that it was in fact him and his mom, he’d have never believed it. For one, he was smiling too widely. He didn’t ever remember smiling so much, even as a kid, and secondly, mom was beautiful. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were so full of love, that it hurt to look at her, and then it hurt to look away.
If Dean was being completely honest, this was why he had never opened the box again. He couldn’t look at those memories without feeling this ache in his chest. He flipped through the pictures. His parents in front of their car, his dad holding a huge fish, laughing with a friend. His mom kissing baby Sam on the forehead, while small Dean was looking at his little brother. The baby’s hand was tightly wrapped around Dean’s finger. Like he was holding on to something important.
Dean sighed.
What would his mom think of him now? Would she be disappointed in him that he had stopped looking for Sam? Stopped looking for her baby?
If he closed his eyes and concentrated really hard, he could almost hear her voice, humming the notes of ‘Hey, Jude.’
Dean looked at the picture again. She was just so beautiful, and the baby was so happy. Little Sam’s face was turned towards the camera. The hand not holding Dean’s finger was fisted and turned towards the camera, a dimpled smile on his face. His mother's face was looming right above his, her lips hovering over the tiny black spot next to his nose… The spot was just like…
“Shit!” Dean swore, jumpin out of his bed, his things tumbling onto the floor.
“Shit shit shit,” he muttered, shoving the picture in his pocket and hurriedly pulling on his shoes.
The door opened and Bobby came in. He had the weirdest smile plastered to his face. Another time, Dean would have called it creepy and laughed over it.
Today, he ran to Bobby and grabbed him by the arm.
“Bobby! You won’t freaking believe this!” He yanked the photo out of his pocket and shoved it in Bobby’s face, “Look! He has a mole next to his nose. That’s exactly where-”
“Will has it,” Bobby completed, the grin on his face stretching further.
What was happening? Dean felt his breath coming up short and he sat down at the edge of his bed, feeling faint from either excitement or fear that this was all just a dream.
Bobby pulled out an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Dean. “You might want to take a look at this.”
Dean’s fingers trembled as he reached out and took the envelope. Inside was a medical paper of some sort. He could spot his name on it, but most of it was gibberish to him in the keyed up state of his brain.
“What’s this?” he asked, waving the paper around.
“It’s a DNA test,” Bobby said. “It proves that Will really is your brother.”
“What?”
Bobby sat down next to him. “I asked the doctor to run it right after they operated Will. I mean it was a crazy coincidence that your blood group matched. And that’s one hell of a rare blood group in America. Did it not occur to you that it might mean something more?”
Dean was too shocked to react.
“That, and his eyes are shaped exactly like John’s. You didn’t spend that long with your old man, but for me, it was hard to miss.” Bobby shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you before I got the results and knew for sure.”
“He’s really Sam. He’s really my Sammy, isn’t he?” Dean whispered wonderingly. The burst of energy that had come to him had all dissipated just as suddenly. He was cold and clammy. “He was right in front me all along.”
“This means one other thing.” Bobby looked at him sideways. “The Kensingtons have no case now. Nobody is taking him away.”
And then Dean was crying in his hands. Years and years of exhaustion, worry and fear just ebbing away. This was unbelievable, too good to be true.
Bobby put an arm around him, and it felt right. Of course Will was Sam. Of course he belonged.
“C’mon, let’s go tell your brother,”
*******************************************
Will had been waiting for them in the lobby of the Child welfare Centre, nervously pacing as if he was scared that Dean wouldn’t show.
When he saw them, the relief spread quickly through his features before morphing into annoyance.“Where were you?” He demanded. “You’re an hour late.”
Dean didn’t retort like he usually would have. He simply couldn’t stop looking at his brother. His brother.
“I have something for you,” he said quietly.
Will scowled. “Don’t think you can get out of keeping me waiting by buying me a cool t-shirt or something!” But the anger was already leaving. “And you’re looking at me weirdly. Why’re you looking at me weirdly?”
“Here,” Dean pulled out the picture. “Take this.”
Will took it, then gave him a puzzled look.
“That’s me,” Dean pointed out. “And this is mom.”
Will’s eyes glazed over and a small smile tugged at his lips. “She loves you. I can tell,” he said. It was quite obvious from the picture. “Is this Sam?”
Dean put his finger on the baby. “This right here,” he took a deep breath. “This right here is you.”
Will looked up startled. “Dean!”
“It really is you. Look, look at that mole. It’s exactly where you have it.”
Will shook his head, eyes wide, like he was scared of believing.
Dean took hold of Will’s hand and thrust the DNA report in it. “Here, take this. It’s a DNA report.” In low voices they quickly explained to Will what Bobby had told him at the motel.
“All that time in the record room, all those nights, we were looking for me?” His voice was strangled.
“Yes, Will. Yes.”
Will was staring hungrily at the picture now, as if he couldn’t get enough of it. His eyes lingered on their mom and then where his tiny palm was wrapped around Dean’s pinkie finger.
He gave Dean one disbelieving watery look and then flung his arms Dean’s waist, burying his face in the front of Dean’s shirt.
Dean gave a watery laugh himself. “So I guess you really are stuck with me now, huh, little brother?”
Will gave a sob.
“Sure you don’t want to run away with those rich ass Kensingtons?” Dean said it mostly as a joke, but the apprehension was still there underneath it all.
Will shook his head. “They wouldn’t have wanted me if I wasn’t some sort of protege or whatever they were calling it. You… you wanted me even when I was nothing… when I wasn’t even your brother…”
He sniffled. “I don’t want any of it. I want you.”
“Yeah, alright now... hush,“ Dean said, rolling his eyes to stop the tears. “Don’t go wiping your snot on my clothes. That’s still not allowed.”
Will snorted amidst the waterworks and Bobby handed him a bottle of water. It took a while to calm him enough to talk without hiccuping.
Bobby had gone to handle the paperwork with the Child services. They were heading to the precinct next to clear the formalities and were taking Will with them.
“Hey,” Dean said softly. Will, who was leaning against him, jerked a bit. All the crying had exhausted him. Dean worried that the emotional and physical strain was messing with him.
“What do you wanna be called?”
“What do you mean?” Will sat up straight in his chair facing Dean.
“I mean you can go by ‘Will’ or ‘Sam,” whatever you want.
Will was quiet.
“You can take time to think about it,” Dean suggested
He shook his head. “Sam. I wanna go by Sam.”
“What? Don’t you want to think about it?”
“No, I don’t,” he said. “I can come out and say this now, but I was a bit jealous of the way you talked about Sam… the longing when you said the name. It meant something to someone.” he hesitated. “Mom… and dad… this meant something to them. ‘Will’ is probably just a lottery name or the matron just loved Shakespeare too much.”
“But it has been your identity for so long,” Dean said gently. “You don’t have to give it up just because you found out your real name.”
“It’s not it,” Will said. “I want to be Sam Winchester.”
Dean caught his breath. Sam Winchester. It felt like such a big name for such a small boy.
“Alright then,” Dean said. “Sammy,’ it is!”
Will’s… Sam’s eyebrow quirked up. “I agreed to ‘Sam,’ not ‘Sammy!”
“Yeah whatever, Sammy,” Dean grinned.
“Sammy’ sounds like a five year olds name!”
“You can whine all you want. I ain’t gonna stop calling you that.”
Sam huffed, then crossed his arms. Dean could see he was trying hard to not laugh. “Fine. But you’re the only one who gets to call me that.”
Dean smirked.
“Boys!” Bobby had appeared at the far end of the lobby. He was already carrying Sam’s bags, gesturing to them to hurry up. “C’mon! Time to go.”
Both of them slid down from the chairs, standing besides each other.
“You ready?” Dean asked.
“Mhmm.”
“Let's go home, Sammy.”
With that they both walked out into the evening sun. Neither of them turned to look back.
*******************************
A/N 2: I cried while writing the end. The epilogue is based one year later... I so hope y’all like it also <3
Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? I live for comments!
If you wanna be tagged, please send me an ask
About a Boy taglist:
@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold @bobbie3939 @samsexualdeancurious @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @cookiechipdough @wildfirewinchester
#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#spn fanfiction#weechesters AU#supernatural fanfiction#aab 15#aab final part#anawrites#anawritesspn#Ana writes aab#q
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
OC LIST (New)
Trey:
Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis
Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.
He's got a good wealth behind him.
Extremely gentle
Handsome ;)
Loves photography
Has lavender hair
Respects all
'Secretly' Plays violin
Lowkey a sugardaddy
Hamrish Benat:
Has four eyes!
Pink and blonde hair
He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)
Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)
Ready to deck a bitch
Trained nurse
Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.
Also goes by Hami/Hayden
Andy peters:
Strong, kind.
The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.
Wishes he could do more
Buff + Tall
Wears a pair of dogtags.
Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it
Is extremely brotherly to Adrian
is friends with Hami
Adrian Géarán:
Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess
Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)
likes to make little robots!
Easily bullied
Missing an arm
Struggles with normal life
Blames himself for Andys death
Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama
Chris:
Leader of a summer camp for kiddos
Huge fan of the outdoors
Loves to garden
Red head with freckles
Healthy!
Good build, a little on the below-average male height
Likes to hike
Loves kids
Strong but pacifistic
Great smile
Surprisingly a little shy around other adults
Bisexual
Himbo energy
Douglas Connelly:
Just a regular chubby guy
His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow
He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally
He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks
Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)
A bit awkward but he tries his best.
Tucker:
Badass
Bunny hybrid (ears :3)
White hair
Likes to wear denim jackets
Fast runner
Has had experience working in the force
Izekiel Iris:
Bruised and abused in a facility
Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)
Loves painting
Wallflower
Easily anxious
Loves to draw on his own arms
Matthew Libelle:
Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic
Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.
Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).
Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.
Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.
Has watermelon pink hair.
Gale:
Eldritch bab
Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand
Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster
hears voices
Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back
Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)
Doesn't have a home
Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil
Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.
Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.
Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.
Rowan maverick
Was abandoned as a teen
Also known as Rogue/Red.
Lost some of their tongues making them mute
Trained Assassin.
Previously part of a cult
Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)
Bad with Physical affection
Could use a friend
Jace
Cop/Ex Cop.
Laid off after an incident
Has a pubby called Otis
Likes the occasional beer
Dad energy
Issac Merewen
Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s
Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.
Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester
Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)
Was stored Cramped in box.
Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)
Natrually Blonde
He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.
- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D
-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.
Tyrone Li
Incubus.
Wise, Patient, caring.
Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.
Glasses.
Loves plants and flora
Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..
Glamors hide the following features:
Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.
Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)
Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.
Caspian:
Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)
Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence
He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)
Can control water, can do minor healing with water
Can make water bubble/ boil when angry
Glowy veins when powers are active
He has had many many lives
Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..
Doesn't know how many times hes died
Doesn't have alot of family or friends
Goes on many adventures
Elio Solren.
Nickname: Sunshine
Good lad.
Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.
Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.
Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.
Smiles to hide the pain
Punk/hipster vibes
Intricate golden tattoos
Doesn't open up easily
Doesn't like to admit to being in pain
Kotori
AKA Corey
Owl lad!
Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)
Loves music.
Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.
Big wings- like barn owl.
Likes to perch in trees
Jeremey Caulfield
Winter baby
Was left bleeding in the snow at some point
Father Lovely old man (John)
Mother died (Ellie)
Birthday December 23h
Blue eyes
Black hair
Russel
Box boy
Glasses
Red hair
Real sweetheart
Really needs more dev ; ;
Jules
Loves tofu n chicken
Touchstarved
Stubborn af
Kicks ass!
Has Sass
Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such
Black hair big messy pigtails
Dark brown eyes.
Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does
Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands
Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo
Trampolines!!
Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money
Sleeps on just a mattress
Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.
(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)
Miles
Part mole, part orphan
Lives underground
Very light-sensitive
Is colourblind
Absolute nerd
loves tinkering with things
is scared of humans
very foggy memories of his parents.
Leilah/ Lei
Can make/control shadows.
Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)
Lives in the woods
Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods
Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows
Kinda bad at maintaining friendships
Emotionally Distant
Wears a cloak.
Bao Ketsuyki
Blood magic bab
Short
East Asian.
Pink/red medium length hair
Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.
Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.
Has almost died a few times from her magic use.
Oran Audun
Pale
Punk
Irish
Plays Guitar
Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.
Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer
Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.
loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets
Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object
Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.
Ray
Social worker works mainly with kids.
Has a Shy guy tattoo.
His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother
Dad died but dad was good.
Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy
Short, 5’
Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)
Super dad vibes.
Owen
a hockey player n gymnast.
His mother died when he was about 9.
has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type
quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.
ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey
This leads to following his passion for Gym
Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.
Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho
Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.
actually a really sweet guy
Soft but likes his sport and jokes.
He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.
has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.
He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)
He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.
He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.
Nohea
but everyone calls him Noah.
Works at a Boba tea cafe..
likes to surf.
has an Epic board.
Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.
he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.
has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe
Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.
Ila
4’8 Soft. Short.
Ready to protect.
Loves to bake!!!
Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time
Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained
likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)
Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)
Dyes hair silver/white
Jake
Homeless
Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail
Also has fangs, and therefore venom
He's got a lot of sass
Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people
Isn't used to kindness
doesn't cry easily
Steals food
Mac Hiato
Also known as Caf
5’6
Very Grumpy.
Very often has bags under his eyes.
Hoodie is life
Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.
Has nightmares of strangulation
Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis
Scared of dark- night lights
Owns a mouse called Bean
Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.
Sits like a gay.
Lives on coffee
Minorly Lactose intolerant
Has One bad eye
Neema
Egyptian
Mechanic
Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time
dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.
Works part time at the garage
Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.
Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.
she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.
She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".
Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.
She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.
She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.
Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.
Samson (Lemonade boi)
His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)
He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.
He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)
He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)
He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)
He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)
He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.
He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)
He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.
He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)
He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.
He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.
The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.
He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.
He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins
His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.
He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)
He has a twin brother called Fraser.
Scrunches his nose
Hides his laughter behind his hand
#OC List#ocs#god this took forever#B's Ocs#my list#oc list new#fuck me ; ;#im not gonna tag all of them.. its not worth it..#thanks for the reminder anon
1 note
·
View note