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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years ago

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Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

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I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

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(Part 2)

#bio!dad john constantine #maribat #damientte #damainette #platonic daminette #maybe?#minor swearing

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pagesoflauren · 4 years ago

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The Highest Bidder Ch. 3 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters. This chapter contains some dynamics of the Thrombey family that are revealed in the movie, which--as someone who has seen the movies multiple times--I personally consider to be very minor spoilers. Please read at your own risk.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Thanks for being super patient while I worked on this! This one’s mostly plot, so I promise the next one will be smutty 😏

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ransom slams the door of his car as he sits in the driver’s seat.

His fucking family.

There was meant to be a “pleasant Sunday brunch-adjacent get-together” for the release party of Harlan’s newest book. His family is never pleasant no matter what day they gather, so Ransom should’ve known it would’ve turned into a shitshow.

Walt had been parading around boasting about how proud he was of “his and dad’s new book” to anyone outside of the family who would listen. Ransom’s father decided to pick a little fight with him, despite his mother’s urging not to.

“But they aren’t your books, are they Walt?” Richard taunted, “They’re Harlan’s books.”

Ransom had parked himself right at the refreshments table, nudging the platter of breakfast pastries closer to himself. He idly picked up a croissant and nibbled as he watched everything unfold. “Shit stirring prick,” Meg muttered as she grabbed a cup of coffee.

“This is all them, Meggy,” he said, his mouth full of soft, buttery croissant flakes. “I’m just getting a front row seat for the entertainment.”

Meg rolled her eyes and walked away. Walt had smiled simply before replying. “Of course, Richard. Just like how the real estate company is Linda’s, not yours.”

Linda then elbowed Richard, a hard signal to defend himself from her little brother’s jab like the “proud husband” he’s supposed to be.

“At least Linda was able to build something on her own.” Ransom rolled his eyes at that statement while his mother patted his father on the shoulder.

“Only because dad was generous enough to loan her a million dollars to build that company.”

Ransom dipped his croissant into his coffee and smirked as he chewed. When his father didn’t say anything, his mother blew her cap at both of them.

It started out relatively quiet before escalating into a full on spectacle. Across the room, Ransom saw Harlan exchange a look with Marta, his nurse, before completely ignoring the situation and returning to the conversation he was having with a guest.

“You can’t say shit, Richard, you’re getting nothing from his family!”

Ransom laughed loudly at the truth in that declaration. The three pairs of eyes turned and fingers pointed at him before insults were spewed his way.

Rolling his eyes, he let them at him, not caring what they were saying. It was all true. He was a little piece of shit, an entitled prick, he was all of it.

Because of them.

Leaving his half eaten croissant in his coffee cup, he placed it on the table and coolly sauntered across the room, slander following him all the way until it was directed back within the group.

Ransom had grabbed a copy of the book, given his granddad a nod of acknowledgement as a goodbye, then left. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the yelling all the way from the parking lot. Harlan looked a little disappointed as he left.

What did Harlan ever do for him anyway, besides give him a generous monthly allowance? What did his parents ever do for him? His mother spent her days running a real estate company while his father devoted his time to doing everything he could to get his hands on some of that money.

And where did Ransom fall in all of this?

Nobody actually cared about him. They shut him up with money and invited him to parties to make him feel like he was part of something. In reality, his family was nothing to be a part of. There wasn’t anything to them. Just a pile of mystery novels that turned words into money and fed it to hungry beasts. And Ransom was one of them.

That’s what he was, that’s what he was always meant to be. His mother never let him be a kid. When the grass was bright green after all the snow melted and Ransom rolled around, staining his crisp private school uniform with virescent splotches, she yelled at him. When she instructed her husband to continue the scolding, he gave a half-assed, “Don’t do it again.” The day was ruined after that.

And somehow, in the moment when he breathed in your perfume, he remembered one of the few moments where he was content: watching the world spin as the sky was down and the ground was up and the conifers looked like stalactites in a strange cave.

He loved remembering that. And it terrified him. The second he started remembering the brief golden moments of his childhood, he knew it was best to get himself off as soon as possible and take off. He’d hold on to memories of how you felt around his cock for when he couldn’t get between a girl’s legs.

He’ll never admit to anyone how often he thinks of you and the time he spent sharing a bed with you.

Shaking his head and starting the car, he pulled away from the party venue and drove through the city. At a stoplight, he picks up the hefty novel and flips it to the back cover.

He reads something about a statue and a dead art historian. Rolling his eyes, already disinterested, he throws the book back on the seat.

Passing through the university area, Ransom decides to grab a cup of coffee. He pulls into a parking spot, ignoring the blinking red light of the meter as he gets out to enter the cafe.

He does a double take when he sees you exiting with a man. You look completely different: your hair is in a messy ponytail and your makeup is more natural, focusing on accentuating your features instead of looking glamorous. You’re donning a sweater with the name of the university just across the street.

He’s rendered immobile at the sight of you. His thoughts come crashing down on him like an avalanche.

It’s been nearly two months since that night. He’s filled the days and weeks between now and then with various girls, all of whom were confident and sexy and unafraid to match his pace in bed. He could have any one of them at his doorstep with a snap of his fingers.

So why is he suddenly frozen, watching you and some guy walk down the street?

It was ridiculous, really, how much he had dreamt of your encounter, tried to recall your smell and the taste of your skin. He hates that he never got a sample from between your legs. He’d been so caught up in how you felt around his finger that it went straight to his cock and he just had to be inside you.

He’s never been so caught up on anyone before.

When he drinks whiskey, he sees you, turning in your dress and heels. He wonders if maybe he could see you again, maybe you’d be more confident, maybe more experienced…

Have you slept with anyone since July? Have you slept with the guy you’re with now?

His wonder causes him to mindlessly follow after you, sights set on the bright scrunchie that keeps your hair together as he imagines you underneath the guy you’re walking with, crying out as he thrusts into you…

Ransom doesn’t like the idea of that. He hates it, shakes his head to dispel it from his brain. Then he stops suddenly.

But what does it matter? You weren’t anyone to him, just some girl on a website who auctioned your virginity and he bought it. He didn’t buy you. You weren’t his to own.

He’d be lying if he said he felt he got his money’s worth though.

When he thinks about that night, besides all the erotic images of your face and how you felt wrapped so tightly around him, there was something underneath the heat and lust he felt. He saw curiosity come across your face multiple times that night and he felt the same.

He wanted to know what you’d look like on top. He wanted to know what you tasted like (he still hates himself for not taking the opportunity). He wanted to know what sounds you’d make when he went rough. He wanted to know how you sounded when you let yourself succumb to complete, unrestrained pleasure.

He knew you were holding back, he saw the terror that came across your face when you looked at his size. You barely even touched him. God, how would you touch him? How would your hands feel on him, running over his skin?

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, so many things he wanted to watch you do.

It terrified him to remember the brief blissful moments of his childhood while he was with you, and that’s why he left so quickly. But one night with you wasn’t enough.

The thought propels him forward, stepping after you again once he spies your scrunchie again.

You’re turning a corner; he needs to catch up. His pace quickens.

When has he ever chased a girl before?

As he rounds the corner, Ransom sees you stepping into a shop, appearing to playfully curtsey as the man holds the door open for you. He slows down a little, wanting it to appear as if he’s casually walking around. When he reaches the shop, he realizes it’s a used bookstore.

Maybe I can grab Harlan’s book and pretend I’m selling it.

He decides against it though. He doesn’t want to risk you getting away from him. He enters the shop and immediately goes for the taller shelves to conceal himself from plain view. Peeking between the tops of the books and the next shelf above it, he spots you. You’re near the back, looking at the large, brightly colored children’s books.

Shit, did he get you pregnant?!

Ransom shakes his head then smiles to himself; he remembers hearing you gasp when he rolled a condom onto himself. He feels his cock twitch at the memory.

“God, it’s so ridiculous that we have to buy our own books for clinicals,” he hears you gripe.

“Yeah, but it’s good practice for when we’re actually in the field,” the man nudges you with his elbow, “We’re gonna have to figure out which books will suit clients’ interest and all.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I didn’t have to do this before work tonight.”

“Don’t you work at eight, though?”

Work? Why are you working when he gave you so much money?

“Yeah, but it’s less time preparing for seminar tomorrow. Not to mention the paper for fluency. Ugh, being a grad student is so hard, Toby,” you moan, leaning your forehead on his shoulder.

A hot puff of air shoots out from Ransom’s nose.

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. C’mon. It’s barely past one. We’re gonna get this done, then go back to my place and study a little. And remember why we’re doing this?” he asks, turning so his front is facing you. Your head sags for a moment, having leaned the weight of your skull on him before your neck straightens.

“To help kids become better communicators,” you say together, as if it’s a mantra.

“Exactly,” the man--Toby--smiles. “Besides, it’s Sunday. I’m pretty sure the diner won’t be super crowded like it was for me last night. If anything, it’s crowded with people trying to cure their hangovers right now. Then, when the diner’s empty, you can study. It’s just on the next block over, anyway. They know you’re a student, so I don’t think they’ll kick up a fuss if you crack open a notebook. It’s just you and the cook, too, right?”

You hum in affirmation as you pick up a book and tuck it under your arm.

“So, that just shows they know nobody’s gonna be there! You’re golden!”

You giggle as you swat his hand away when he makes to pinch you. Ransom leans forward into the bookcase in an attempt to get closer to you, enchanted by the sound.

What the hell has gotten into him?!

“Sir, can I help you find something?” a store associate startles him.

“What--no, no. Absolutely not,” Ransom spews, fumbling around with his hands trying to look inconspicuous. His leather jacket squeaks with his movements. The associate looks confused, tilting their head as they watch him.

“I’m just leaving,” he shakes his head, making his way to storm out the door.

He makes his way back to his car, taking note of the diner Toby was talking about. It really was on the next block over, hard to miss with a gaudy 50s-style neon green light-up sign and fluorescent pink lettering.

Ransom smiles to himself as he makes his way back to his car. He knows exactly what to do.

The lighting in the diner is harsh against Ransom’s eyes and he blinks a little as he gets out of his car. It’s just before midnight and the streets are empty, save for a few students who are walking into the coffeeshop and drugstores around the block. Stepping in, checkered black and light gray tiles lay on the floor, though he’s certain the gray tiles are supposed to be white. There’s a counter with a bunch of red cushioned stools and booths all around the wall.

“Evenin’ son,” the cook says as he peeks through the window on the wall beyond the counter. “You just take a seat right up here and our hostess will be right out.”

The man turns away and shouts your name.

Ransom smirks at the sound of your name, perching himself on a stool and immediately getting comfortable. The only thing that would make this better would be if the stools had backs so he could put his feet up. Instead, he rests his elbow on the counter and waits for you to come.

The kitchen door swings open.

“Sorry to keep you waiting--” your sentence stops short and he smiles deviously at you.

You’re in the same makeup and ponytail from earlier, though this time a pen is nestled where your hair is gathered, kept in place by the scrunchie you’ve been wearing. Instead of your university sweatshirt, you’re sporting a denim blue button up waitress dress, complete with a sewn on oval white patch with your name stitched into it. There’s a white apron tied around your waist.

His smirk deepens more. If anything, this is almost like the start to a bad porn film. One where he’d bend you over the counter and--

“Hi, Ransom,” you greet him, interrupting his almost fantasy.

“Hey,” he nods, so satisfied in your surprised expression.

You awkwardly place the menu in front of him and wring your hands a little.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?”

Ransom hums, pink lips puckering before he answers, “Hot chocolate, actually.”

Your nod is a little perplexed. “Okay, right. I’ll go get that for you.”

You turn to the espresso machine behind you and Ransom likes the view of your ass he’s treated to as he opens the menu. Once he’s decided, he looks up, seeing your back still turned to him as you watch hot chocolate trickle into a mug. He knows it can’t be that interesting.

“Hey,” he calls, disrupting your focus.

You whirl around, ponytail whipping about with the movement of your head. “Huh?”

“I’m ready,” he says, holding up the menu.

“Oh,” you reach into the pocket of your apron and pull out a notepad before plucking the pen from your hair. “What’ll it be?”

He multitasks, reciting his order and watching you at the same time. You seem to be avoiding looking at him, even when you ask him to clarify what bread he wants for his toast. Your eyes briefly dart up from your notepad to his face when you repeat his order.

When he hums in affirmation that you got his order correct, your movements seem to buffer.

Got her, he thinks.

You rip the sheet from the pad and hand it to the cook.

“Man, Monte Cristo crepes? At this time of night?” the man whines.

Ransom gives an apathetic shrug.

“Well, alright then. You better tip our little miss here well so that she can split it with me.”

Ransom watches as you press your palm into your forehead, probably cringing at the idea of him tipping you after he paid you $50,000.

You turn back to the espresso machine and grab the mug, carefully carrying it to him.

“Whipped cream?” you offer, taking out the silver canister from the fridge underneath the counter.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d prefer having that in the bedroom.”

You seem to huff a laugh at that and you put the canister back where it belongs.

He takes a sip, then his face scrunches.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Is this imported?”

It appears you can’t help the bewildered smile that comes across your face. “Um, I don’t know where it’s from, but I don’t think it’s imported.”

“Oh.” He gives an experimental sip, holding the liquid in his mouth before he swallows.

“Is it okay?” you ask.

So you’re a people pleaser… or you’re just a waitress trying to make sure your customer’s satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s acceptable.”

“Oh, good,” you smile, relieved.

He only nods and turns his attention to the rest of the diner. It really is only the three of you there. Again, the idea of this situation being like a bad porno crosses Ransom’s mind.

When he looks at you again, you’re cleaning the coffee machine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Cleaning the coffee machine.”

“No, what are you doing here?”

You turn to look at him. “I’m working…?”

“Well, I can see that, but I gave you fifty grand.”

Your head whips to look over at the cook. Ransom’s eyes follow, seeing he’s occupied at the stove. He didn’t appear to hear anything. “Fifty grand’s not nothing. Did they not send you the payment?”

“You know, I could ask you what you’re doing here, too. I didn’t pin you as someone who lived in the university area,” you say, changing the subject.

“I don’t live around here.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Your eyes narrow. He can see you’re strategizing.

“If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?”

“Sure,” Ransom relaxes as much as he can, though he has to be honest, the stool doesn’t give him that much lounging real estate.

“They sent me the payment.”

“So, why are you working?”

“I go to school across the street. The money you gave me is enough to pay for the tuition costs not covered by financial aid. But I need to pay for books and rent and groceries. And it’ll be four more semesters until I finish my degree, so I’ll need a little more than what you gave me to keep my head above water.”

So that’s why you thanked him. He helped pay for your education.

He nods, sipping his chocolate. As a plot forms in his head, he has to admit, for some cheap, unimported trash, it’s growing on him. Said plot would involve him getting what he wants from you and you no longer needing to work in this dump. He goes to open his mouth and you turn with a smile of your own.

“You said if I answer your questions, then you’d answer mine.”

“And if I don’t answer your question?” he challenges.

You smile. “Then this conversation is over.”

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him and he shakes his head, giving a half-shrug.

“Just here to grab some Monte Cristo crepes and kill a craving,” he lies. Maybe the craving part is true, though.

You hum in acknowledgement, though he’s not sure you fully accept his answer. Taking the towels you used to clean the coffee machine, you disappear into the back. When you return, you’re holding a notebook.

“How long have you been working here?”

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” he feigns innocence.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does that.”

Ah, so suddenly you have the ability to get a read on people? What other things does he not know about you? Your encounter at the hotel made him think you were some naive young woman who was sheltered all her life. In the fifteen minutes he’s been here, you’re showing him you’re anything but.

What else is there to discover about you? he wonders.

“I’m just asking because I might be able to help you. Financially.”

“Ransom, I have nothing else left to offer,” you say.

So you think.

“And your payment was more than generous.”

The cook calls to you and places a plate on the kitchen window sill. You grab it and set Ransom’s order in front of him.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing...for now,” he remarks suggestively.

You nod once and open your notebook. As Ransom revels in the cheesy goodness of the crepes in front of him, he watches you quickly jot down things onto the paper and listens to you mutter to yourself.

As he scarfs down all the greasy morsels and chases each bite with hot chocolate, he considers badgering you more. But seeing how stressed you look, he decides to back off.

If you were his mother, on the other hand…

When he’s done, he snaps his fingers at you. You look unamused at the gesture but clear his plate anyway. You bring it back to the kitchen. He hears some chatter and the sink running before you return and stand at the register. He’s again treated to a view of your ass as you shift from one foot to another while processing the transaction.

“I’m taking fifteen,” the cook calls to you.

“Alright,” you shout back, tearing away his receipt and Ransom’s ready with a couple bills.

“Just keep the change,” he winks at you. “Well, maybe give some of it to your grumpy cook.”

He likes the way you laugh at his comment.

“Thanks,” you smile at him again. “See you...whenever, I guess.”

“Actually,” he begins, “about that help I can give you…”

You sigh. “I already told you, there’s nothing else I can offer you. You,” he watches as you pause and laugh humorlessly,” You paid for my virginity and you got it. Unless you have a kid who needs help with reading or writing, I don’t think--”

“I’m not paying you to tutor anyone.” Ransom bites the inside of his cheek as he smiles at himself.

Maybe you can help Walt with some comprehension issues.

“I was thinking...you and I can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“‘Arrangement’?” You lean against the counter with the espresso machine, arms folded across your chest as you face him.

“Yeah. You live with me, I cover whatever other living costs you need. And you,” he says, one corner of his mouth curls up wickedly as he leans his arms on the counter in an attempt to get closer to you, “You keep me entertained.”

The way your eyes widen slightly at the word “entertained” tells him you know exactly what he means.

“I don’t think so,” you scoff, shaking your head and walking to retrieve your notebook.

Well, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

“Excuse me?” he asks, appalled. His eyes follow your figure walking to the other side of the counter.

“I don’t think so,” you repeat plainly.

What even is this? He’s never been rejected by a woman before. They fell at his feet all the time. There were some that played hard to get, but they always came crawling to him in the end.

He has to admit, though, he does like this side of you.

“Why not?” he presses.

You look around as if to check if anyone’s around to hear you. “I didn’t even orgasm, Ransom,” you laugh. “I’d rather rough it and have a job here instead of entering an arrangement where I’m not going to get something out of it.”

“You’re getting something out of it,” Ransom says, standing up to follow you across the counter. “I told you, I’ll cover your living costs.”

“I mean something pleasurable, you doofus.”

You turn to go into the kitchen.

Normally, Ransom isn’t a man who begs. But he always gets what he wants. And hell, he wants you and all the memories you bring back to him. He wants to uncover you layer by layer until he reaches your very core and knows you inside and out.

God, what is this mushy stuff he’s thinking right now?

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait,” he says. “You didn’t…? And because of that you don’t wanna do this?”

“No.”

“Listen, I can make you cum,” he states firmly, index finger pressing into the countertop as if to make his point.

“You don’t need to get so worked up over this, Ransom,” he scowls when you laugh at him, “You’re a handsome guy. I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls who will gladly take you up on your offer.”

Somehow, you calling him handsome doesn’t stroke his ego. Rather, it feels insulting. This is you letting him down easy.

Fuck no.

“I don’t want the other girls.”

“Is that to suggest you want me?” you inquire.

“The arrangement isn’t going to benefit just me in bed,” he changes the subject.

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you say, unimpressed again.

His smirk mirrors yours.

If it’s a game you want to play, game on.

“How about a deal?”

Your eyes narrow. “What kind of deal?”

He rests his forearms on the counter this time. “I make you cum, you enter this arrangement with me. If not, you never have to see me again.”

He can see the gears turning in your head.

“Three,” you say.

“Sorry, what?” he shakes his head, confused.

“I wanna cum three times,” you tell him.

He chuckles to himself. He likes that you’re not afraid to say what you want. Besides, another night with you would mean he gets his $50,000 worth.

“Easy.”

“Well, then, Ransom, you got yourself a deal.” You offer your hand for him to shake.

Taking your hand, he yanks you towards him so you’re right up against the counter. He leans forward, your faces less than an inch apart. That glint of nervousness flashes in your eyes again and again, he chuckles.

“No. I got you.”

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @imanuglywombat @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daugtherofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981 @myoxisbroken @tinystudentfirepurse @opheliadawnwalker3 @starstruckghostmoneyduck @siggy85 @thatweirdwalangpake @captain-asthmatic @mery-be @isaxhorror @everythingisoverrated @imboredat2am @tsunderebae009 @arseofrivia @alexakeyloveloki @rayofdawnworld @heyarely16 @empower-bi-women @buckaro0 @readermia @bubbaduck33 @ssworldofsw @woah-kanda @itgetsdarksometimes35 @pinkshenanigan @sweetwaterprincess

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. I also don’t close my tag lists!

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

#ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out fic #knives out fanfic #The Highest Bidder #ficsofpagesoflauren

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antebunny · 4 years ago

Text

family dinner

Modern AU Jin siblings vs. Jin Guangshan (crossposted on Ao3):

Jin Zixuan leans against the side of his yellow Audi and checks his Rolex Daytona watch. Behind his car are the massive white gates of the Jin mansion, a massive complex with no less than four houses, two gardens, one lotus pond, a garage for the rest of his car collection, and a private movie theater in the basement. Normally, he would open the gates and let himself through, but tonight, Jin Zixuan has no intention of going down the lonely, two-lane road to the main house alone.��

The time is 7:18. He has only twelve minutes left, and no one is here. Jin Zixuan shifts nervously in his Stuart Hughes suit (Diamond Edition) and represses the urge to check his watch again. Instead of checking it, he worries until his heart is thump-thumping in his chest and all he can feel is the bitter cold air on his bare fingers.

He’s twenty-seven years old, with a two year old son, and he’s still nervous about the coming dinner. He would be less nervous if his mother was coming, but she hasn’t been back to the Jin family home since she divorced his father almost a decade ago–long enough to see Jin Zixuan through high school–and he was not about to ask. Instead, he’d asked the rest of his family.

He’s musing on the meaning of family and obligation when the first car pulls up. It’s a white Rolls-Royce, and it carries a single passenger: Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, Jin Guangyao. His half-brother wears a crisp dark cream-colored Brioni suit, and he adjusts the small osmanthus flower tucked into the pocket when he straightens.

“No one else is here yet?” Jin Guangyao questions, like he can’t see it with his own eyes.

“Not yet,” Jin Zixuan says shortly.

His brother continues smiling despite his terse tone. Jin Guangyao has never been anything but friendly to Jin Zixuan since he came into his life several years ago, which is why Jin Zixuan is half-terrified of him. The other half of him wants to intervene everytime his father so much as looks in Jin Guangyao’s direction, and half of the time he does, so needless to say, they have a rather complicated relationship.

“I’m sure they’ll be here,” Jin Guangyao offers, still smiling sweetly.

Jin Zixuan isn’t so sure. Realistically, there’s no reason for all of them to come just to support him. The only reason Jin Zixuan is going, beyond the convention of his father’s annual dinners, is because Jin Zixuan is in fact aware of his skills in life. As of the moment, Jin Zixuan is the sole inheritor of his father’s fortune. Despite the number of half-siblings that Jin Zixuan apparently has, or perhaps because of it, he is confident that he will always be the sole inheritor. That is, unless Jin Guangshan decides to withhold the inheritance to remind Jin Zixuan that he is the only way Jin Zixuan can provide for his family. So Jin Zixuan needs the inheritance, no matter what A-Li says.

Which is why he’s standing here, on his twenty-seventh birthday, trying not to look too nervous as his brother calmly locks his car door.

“Thank you for coming, A-Yao,” Jin Zixuan finally says, forced but sincere.

Realistically Jin Guangyao knows that he can expect better treatment from his half-brother than he can with Jin Guangshan as the CEO of Jin Industries, but naively Jin Zixuan still hopes that Jin Guangyao has some room for frivolous things like brotherly affection and genuine kindness.

Jin Guangyao puts his keys in his pocket and walks around his car to the gate. He’s not a moment too soon: a silver car rolls in after Jin Guangyao’s Rolls-Royce, and parks just a little too close for comfort.

The first out of the silver car is Qin Su, from the driver’s seat. The gold trim and white hem of her floor-length evening gown trails over the edge of the car as she exits, and as she stands up Jin Zixuan realizes that she really went all-out. She’s dressed in white and gold, complete with a pink peony flower, and her hair and face indicates that she spent at least two hours getting ready. From the way she walks up to him in her white high-heels, Jin Zixuan knows that she knows that she’s stunning. If she wasn’t his daughter, Jin Guangshan would probably make a comment about it. He might anyway.

“The new style suits you, A-Su,” Jin Guangyao says politely.

“Thank you,” Qin Su says, her pretty eyes flashing. “It’s what my mother wore.”

She doesn’t specify when, but Jin Zixuan winces anyway. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says helplessly.

“And miss a chance to ruin your father’s evening?” Qin Su retorts, and smiles beatifically. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The last sibling emerges from the copilot seat. “It’s your birthday celebration, isn’t it?” Mo Xuanyu points out.

He’s wearing ripped jeans, a tank top, and heavy black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Jin Zixuan wisely does not comment. Mo Xuanyu pulls on a black puffer jacket as he speaks, which makes him the only one with adequate protection from the chilly February temperature. He’s also the youngest here; Qin Su picked him up from his university on the way here.

“Technically,” Jin Zixuan says instead.

Mo Xuanyu shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Jin Zixuan checks his Rolex again, and the golden watch hands proclaim the time to be 7:24. “We’re still waiting on a few more people who said they’d show up.”

“Who?” Mo Xuanyu asks curiously, and it’s at that moment that a flaming red and black sports car comes roaring down the road, and Mo Xuanyu’s face lights up.

The door is kicked open, and Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law flings himself out. Wei Wuxian emerges in a black Armani suit, now the tallest person in their smallest gathering, and grins.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Mo Xuanyu squeaks, and Jin Zixuan holds back a wince. His youngest brother has the most embarrassing idol crush on Wei Wuxian, which is only embarrassing because–

“Mn.” Out of nowhere, Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law (-in-law?) places himself in front of Wei Wuxian, straightening his white suit coat like it’s even a millimeter out of place. He glares Mo Xuanyu down, and Jin Zixuan goes from feeling embarrassed for his brother to feeling sorry for him.

“You brought him?” Jin Zixuan complains to Wei Wuxian before he can stop himself.

“Where I go, Lan Zhan goes,” Wei Wuxian retorts. They’re already holding hands. Jin Zixuan hates this.

Wei Wuxian’s husband levels his icy glare on Jin Zixuan, and suddenly Jin Zixuan is imagining that glare leveled at his father when Jin Guangshan inevitably tries to get world-renown bioengineer Wei Wuxian to work for Jin Industries again. Perhaps bringing him along isn’t such a bad idea after all.

“It’s lovely to see you,” Qin Su offers, and the glare is gone, just like that.

“But not as lovely as you are tonight,” Wei Wuxian says smoothly, and the glare is back.

Jin Zixuan pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers and sighs. He’s so busy sighing that he almost misses the arrival of the last car, a violently purple Jaguar that for once is not racing around at nearly illegal speeds.

“You’re late,” Jin Zixuan snaps, when the driver’s door opens.

“I was helping my sister get ready, asshole,” Jiang Cheng snaps right back, slamming his door closed. He straightens the cuffs of his dark purple suit before opening the copilot door for said sister.

Jiang Yanli ducks gracefully out of the car, and Jin Zixuan’s heart immediately goes gooey in his chest. He’s afraid that his face does, as well, because Wei Wuxian makes a disgusted face at him.

She wears a layered dress of lavender and rose pink, and the skirts skim over the ground as she steps out of the car. In her arms, she carries a precious little bundle that Jin Zixuan loves with all his heart, and now he knows that his face has gone all gooey with emotions because his wife smiles at him, which really doesn’t help with the emotions.

Jin Zixuan holds out his arms, and Jiang Yanli places their tiny baby bun in his arms.

“I’ve finally got him sleeping,” Jiang Yanli says in a hushed voice, and for a moment there’s silence as everyone welcomes the newest, sleepiest, cutest little dumpling to their growing party.

Jin Ling’s little face is puckered up even in his sleep like he’s thinking hard. Jin Zixuan’s small, sweet bao of a son is dressed in a matching pair of a white jacket and snowpants, complete with a white yarn hat that’s the size of his entire head.

“It’s good to see you, A-Li,” Qin Su says finally, once the moment of silence has passed.

Jiang Yanli smiles. “You too, A-Su,” she says. “We should get the group back together one of these days.”

Jin Zixuan isn’t sure whether he’s terrified or pleased. Jiang Yanli’s friends from college are a force of nature, and given that they’ve gone on to become a rising neurosurgeon, an environmental scientist, an urban planner, and in Jiang Yanli’s case, a child psychiatrist, they’d be even more a force of nature now.

“I wanna hold him,” Wei Wuxian says in a stage whisper.

Jin Zixuan directs his best glare at him, holds his sweet little dumpling closer, and prays that his wife won’t cave to Wei Wuxian’s puppy dog eyes.

“I believe it’s time,” Jin Guangyao intervenes smoothly, swooping in before a fight can break out.

Jin Zixuan shoots him a grateful look, even though he’s mostly sure that Jin Guangyao didn’t intervene just so that he wouldn’t have to turn his darling baby son over to his brother-in-law.

“It is 7:30,” Qin Su agrees.

Mo Xuanyu cracks his fingers, grins wickedly, and then puts on a pair of black shades, just to match his black puffer jacket. “Let’s go ruin Dad’s night.”

“Can we not get him to call the cops on us?” Jin Zixuan asks, one step short of begging.

“My dad is on speed dial in case anyone needs a ride,” Qin Su says, tucking her phone into her purse.

Of course. The CEO of Qin Industries on speed dial. Though Jin Zixuan supposes that that move is fair, considering that Qin Cangye knows his daughter is going to Jin Guangshan’s house.

“I think we have enough cars,” Jin Guangyao says.

“But let’s not burn the house down?” Jin Zixuan pleads. It’s true that he asked all of them to come, but please come, I don’t want to be alone with A-Li is not the same as please, I want to pay for damages.

“No promises.” Wei Wuxian smirks.

“Nothing that can be proven,” Jiang Cheng adds. Jin Zixuan belatedly remembers that he’d invited them because he knew they would defend A-Li if his father even looked at her funny. Which he might. God, Jin Zixuan hated his family.

“What else is family for?” Wei Wuxian retorts.

Oh no. Jin Zixuan’s heart is going all gooey again, and this time it isn’t from the adorable sleepy bun in his arms. He furiously tries to force down a blush that heats his cheeks in the cold winter air.

Jiang Yanli notices, because of course she does, and she steps closer to pat his arm. “He won’t burn the house down,” she says reassuringly.

Jin Zixuan is privately still dubious, but he doesn’t argue. He turns to the grand white gates. Jin Guangyao stands on his left and half a head shorter, and Jiang Yanli stands to his right. His two other siblings and three in-laws gather behind him.

Then, with his family dressed to the nines and ready for war, Jin Zixuan unlocks the white gates and sets forth to ruin his dad’s night.

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #happy birthday #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #qin su #mo xuanyu #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #my writing #writeblr #greetings tumblr void #jiang yanli #jin siblings #antebunny's ficlets

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skywalker-swift · 4 years ago

Note

I would love to hear more about tangled dinluke 👀

omg hello there I would love to talk more about it (this got super long so it’s going under the cut)

OKAY so cast of characters Luke as Rapunzel, Din as Flynn, Palpatine is Gothel, Anakin and Padme as the King and Queen, Leia would still be in this but just not born with magical powers so Luke and Leia still get separated, Din’s various vaguely criminal friends as some of the men in the ugly duckling, Artoo as Pascal, maybe Miggs and someone else as the stabbington brothers (i love miggs but thinking about the one episode in season one with the prison) and Max is IG-11, calling it now

Anyways, basic plot of tangled still stands, Palpatine finds the flower and sings the song

Padme gets sick while pregnant with the twins, Anakin searches and finds the flower to save her, and thus the twins are born and alright, but Luke has this bright golden hair

Palpatine breaks in to steal a lock of hair, hair turns brown, steals a whole ass baby instead

Palpatine raises Luke as his own, hiding him away from the outside world, and of course Luke sees the lights on his birthday and always the kid full of adventure longs to see them up close. Begs Palpatine to take him but Mr. Master Manipulator turns it against Luke, and continues to make Luke scared of the outside world

So Luke spends a lot of his time painting, cooking, so on and so forth

Anyways with the Brothers, Din steals the crown from the castle, and Grogu is there of course, which is the main reason Din is wanted by the kingdom, but because Din is always wearing a helmet, I think he might be more lax in this AU (haven’t figured that out yet), they can’t get what they think his face looks like on the wanted posters

Continued chase scene with the horse, Din ends up in the tower where Palpatine is hiding Luke away, and Luke just fucking decks him with the frying pan, and take Grogu away from him, who is super confused but likes Luke even though his dad was just knocked out, watching as Luke and Pascal try on the crown

Palpatine comes back, Luke tries to show him Din, and then the fight occurs, and Luke ends up asking for paint instead, so Palpatine leaves and Luke thanks Grogu for being so quiet

Luke and Artoo wake Din up, who is super confused by this pretty man with super long hair, and eventually he agrees to take Luke to see the floating lights, and Grogu is happy cause he likes making new friends!

Just imagine baby luke touching grass for the first time!!! Din is like literally what the fuck but also Luke is adorable so like whatever

Din tricks Luke into going into the Ugly Duckling because Din is not a fucking taxi service thank you very much, but then that goes wrong, and everyone is like Luke your dream is so cute!! Din your dream sucks

Skipping forward to the scene in the cave filling with water Din tells Luke his name is Din (He’d been going by mando before, whoops sorry for not mentioning that sooner) and Luke is like I have magic hair and Din is like what the actual fuck

aNYWAYS luke saves the day like always, and Din is like what did i get myself into, I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS but luke is so pretty and actually interested in knowing about Din, and so the orphanage thing is still real but Din tells him how he got Grogu, who just loves Luke so much, so Din takes that as a good sign, and Luke heals Din as well

Palpatine catches up to Din and Luke, and tries to convince Luke about Din’s true nature, and Luke is just like “I think he actually likes me,” and Palpatine “Toxic Kidnapper” manipulates Luke again with the crown

Skipping forward a bit, just imagine their day in the city with Din and Luke, with Grogu so happy to see his Dad just so happy with someone for once, and Artoo, Grogu and IG are all like DANCE WITH HIM YOU FOOL cause there’s Luke looking like actual sunshine, and Din doesn’t dance, and then IG pushes him into the dance, and just Luke and Din holding each other at the very end of the dance (AHHHHH) OH and the little girls braid Luke’s hair cause i’m not taking out the long hair out of this plot luke would love his hair

BEFORE THEY RELEASE THE LIGHTS DON’T THINK ABOUT HOW SAD PADME AND ANAKIN WOULD LOOK WITH LEIA, STILL TRYING TO FIND LUKE AFTER ALL THIS TIME AND HOPING THAT THIS TIME HE FINALLY COMES HOME BECAUSE THEY AREN’T COMPLETE WITHOUT HIM AHHHHHH

So, boat scene happens, and just Grogu sitting on Din’s lap so happy, and Din just calming Luke down about how if his dream doesn’t add up, and Just soft looks from Din and when the floating lights start appearing, Luke is just so happy, and Din is like “fuck I fell for him,’ and Luke eventually looks and sees Din and is like ‘fuck i fell for him and his little baby is so cute,’ so they send off lights together, and are holding hands with Grogu just happy to be apart of this and to see his dad look happy like that

Stabbington Brothers Spotted! On the shore, so Din is like, I should finish this so maybe Luke, Grogu and I can all live a happy life somewhere, and of course they knock him out and set him up pushing him across the lake on a ship,

Luke and Grogu are just waiting for him to come back when the brothers threaten them, so Luke takes him and runs, and Palpatine saves him, so Grogu goes with Luke back to the tower

Din wakes up in prison, and he’s about to get executed, and all he can think of is Luke and Grogu, and he sees the brothers in jail cell, and threatens them, they tell him that Palpatine took them with her after scamming him

IG goes and gets the ugly duckling guys, and they get Din out of there, hook hand is def boba i forgot to mention that earlier, and Din and IG race towards the castle, where Palpatine knows he’s coming.

Din gets there, Luke lets down his hair, Din makes it up the tower, sees Luke and Grogu in chains, Palpatine comes behind Din and stabs him, Grogu is crying and angry, and Luke is just resisting

Palpatine tries to get the two of them out of there, and Luke tells him that he will fight everyday of his life, unless he can save Din, then Din is locked up, and Luke is just like stop talking let me heal you, and Din cuts his hair instead of letting Luke heal him because he would rather Luke and Grogu be free than himself be alive

Palpatine turns to dust like the little bitch he is

“You were my new dream,” “And you were mine,” don’t fucking look at me

Grogu and Luke crying over Din, Grogu in Luke’s lap, then bam magic powers rescue the day, and just picture Grogu staring at the light

“Luke..Grogu?” and they just throw themselves on Din, who just so happy to have them both in his life, and Grogu in Din’s lap when he kisses Luke for the first time, don’t look at me

the reunion scene with luke’s family, Padme staring at her son, and Leia throwing herself onto Luke, and Anakin wrapping all three of them into the biggest hug, and Padme pulling Din and Grogu in as well DON’T FUCKING LOOK AT ME PADME WOULD HAVE LOVED DIN

And then the final scene with Luke being the one who like “after many times of asking, I finally said yes,” “Luke...” “Okay!! He finally said yes :D” and then Luke, Grogu and Din live happily ever after as a little family

Omg sorry this is so long but here you go!!! please ask me more questions about this AU with details i might have missed!! thank you so much for your ask! also sorry about any spelling mistakes I was just so fucking excited when you sent this ask)

#ask kate #dinluke #skydalorian #luke skywalker #din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #leia organa #palpatine #tangled au #dinluke tangled au #me vs all the au's i wanna write #Anonymous

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hotpinkrathian · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Party

(Kyalin)

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Please..."

"Kya..."

"Lin it'll be fun." Kya promised.

"Games with the families are never fun. Do you want me to count how many times Su broke my nose playing pie in the face?"

"It wasn't that many."

"Four is a lot of times to break your nose, Kya."

"You got me there. But Lin, imagine, a big Christmas, on the island. Everyone is... happy,"

"Until we fight."

"And there's sweets at all hours of the day." Lin didn't look impressed.

"We can start drinking at 11."

"In the morning?" Kya nodded, causing Lin to raise an eyebrow.

"Go on," Lin said. Kya pursed her lips, placing a hand on Lin's waist, circling around the earth bender.

"And when everyone goes to bed, waiting for the morning, we go back to my room and celebrate like adults." Kya whispered the last line in Lin's ear, and Lin was blushing profoundly.

"Alright," Lin caved, "but I'm not babysitting for your brother." Kya stretched a hand out.

"Deal."

"Lin! Kya! So glad the two of you could make it!" Pema greeted. The temple was already buzzing with activity. Lin put her coat on the filled hanger next to the door observing the chaos behind Pema.

"Thank you for having us, Pema," Kya smiled, embracing her sister in law. Lin wasn't paying attention when she, too, was pulled into a hug. She raised an arm awkwardly around Pema, looking to Kya for help, instead just getting laughed at. When Pema pulled away, distracted by the sound of a clay pot crashing to floor, Kya sidled up to Lin.

"That was cute," Kya said.

"There wasn't even a warning. What did I do to deserve that?" Kya nudged her with an arm.

"You'll get used to it."

"Thats what scares me." Kya chuckled, walking over to Bumi who slammed a shot glass onto the table. Lin followed, impressed by Bumi's gusto, although, at this rate he'd be out by dinner.

"Bumi!" Kya called, "did you start without me?"

"Took to long, Kya, I'm already four ahead of you."

"That didn't help you last year, it certainly won't this year." Lin had vague memories of their sibling drinking contest. Tenzin only ever participated once, he lost so badly and was sick for a week after, he never did it again. Kya picked up a shot, lifting it to meet her brother's.

"To tradition!" She said.

"Tradition? To drinking!" Bumj corrected as they took the shot. Bumu turned to Bum-ju who squeaked behind him.

"See Lin," Kya started, "the secret to having a good pace, is waterbending." Kya explained, "manipulate a little alcohol out of the shot, replace it with water, and bam. Suddenly five shots feels like two."

"Thats cheating."

"We never set the rules, or if we did, we don't remember them. If he can find a way to manipulate his alcohol with airbending then he is free to so." Lin scoffed.

"Lets get something to drink, hmm?" Kya said, guiding them to the table in the living room the Avatar was dotting around.

"Beifong, Kya!" Korra said, raising her glass.

"Not too much of that," Lin said and Korra nodded.

"Absolutely Chief, I am relatively new to the world of alcohol I will absolutely pace myself." Lin side eyed her, as Kkrra grinned and shuffled over to Asami.

"Here," Kya said, passing Lin a drink.

"What is it?"

"Not sure, ran out of the first one so I mixed it with the next bottle." Lin looked at her skeptically, Kya just shrugged. Sje took a sip of the concoction, ignoring the bitter taste it left in her mouth. Kya must've seen it on her face, because she lifted an eyebrow, pressing a hand to Lin's jaw.

"Too bitter?" She asked.

"It's... fine, I guess. It'll do the job." Kya grinned, leaning close to Lin's ear.

"Later I'll do my job, and don't worry, what I have to offer is very sweet." Lin blushed as Kya took a nip at her ear, before swinging her long white ponytail in her face, and walking over to Pema. Lin watched her go, unsure of what she was supposed to do after that.

"Lin, its good to see you." A voice said from behind her. She turned to see Tenzin, standing there with a small grin to his lips. Lin nodded, extending her hand. He took it and they shook, Lin grinning.

"You too, airhead." He rubbed the back of his neck while he replied.

"Haven't heard that one in a while."

"I thought it was the perfect time to bring it back." He chuckled.

"So, how are things with you?" He asked. "I feel like we haven't talked much with all thats been going on with the refugee camps." Lin looked to Kya who met her eye, wasting no time in downing the shot in her hand, making sure to run her tongue all around the glass of the cup. Lin gulped returning her gaze to Tenzin, hoping her blush wasn't too noticeable.

"They've been good. I've been taking breaks." She said.

"Good, good. I'm glad, you deserve a break, Lin. Should you take it."

"Heh, you aren't getting rid of me that easy." He placed an arm on her shoulder,

"Of course not," he replied.

"Dinner is served!" Pema called out. Bolin and Korra tossed them selves over the sofa, racing for the first plate of the meal. Lin waited for everyone to settle before getting a plate of her own, sitting across from Kya at the large table that had been brought in by Asami to seat everyone.

"Should we say something?" Asami asked, before eating anything.

"Like what?" Korra asked, halting her fork full of meat inches from her mouth.

"I don't know. I guess I just..." the girl trailed off and Lin frowned. Of course, it was her first Christmas without her father.

Korra put her fork down, placing a hand on Asami's knee to comfort her.

"Go ahead," Korra said, "we'll wait." Everyone nodded, and Asami took a deep breath.

"Thank the spirits," Asami started, "for giving us the chance to have this season together. And for this great big family I inherited. I miss you dad," she finished. Everyone dipped their head. Asami cleared her throat, and with that, the feast began. It didn't take long for Lin to engage Senna in conversation, the Avatar's mother absolutely adored all of the Korra stories Lin had to share.

"She was arrested the first day she got here," Lin explained, "someone didn't get the memo that destroying things is against the law." Senna laughed, and Korra shrugged from down the table. Lin lifted her glass, she wasn't one for wine, but it fit the occasion. Before she could place it to her lips, however, she was kicked in the shin. She furrowed her brows, trying to look under the table. She landed her eyes on Kya, who sat across from her, staring intently at the metalbender. Kya but her bottom seductively, her leg brushing against Lin's under the table. Lin gave her a half-hearted warning look, and the waterbender winked.

Lin volunteered for the game, solely to escape Kya's teasing for just a bit. The waterbender had been throwing her glances all night, and Lin wasn't sure how much more of it she could take before she pushed her against a bathroom wall and well... the rest is up to her imagination.

"Wait what do I have to do?" Korra asked for the third time.

"You... again! Just, drink the shots," Asami said, "I'll handle the rest." Lin watched as Bumi expertly poured three shots each, before re taking his seat.

"Kya!" He called. Fabulous. "These count as part of the race." He declared.

"Seems like cheating to me," Kya said, placing a hand on her hip.

"Hey, a shot is a shot. Watch me of you feel so inclined." No please no-

"I will." Kya made an example of herself as she sat down, pulling her chair loudly to the table, right next to Lin. Lin didn't meet her eye, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. Kya's hand found its way to her thigh, her thin fingers sliding in between Lin's legs...

"Lets drink, shall we?" Lin said, downing her first one, starting the round. The game was simple, take a shot, flip through a deck of cards until you flipped an ace, first to three flipped aces, wins.

She began flipping her cards, well aware of Kya's hand gripping her thigh, her fingers hovering over the material of her pants.

"Go Bumi!" Kya cheered as her brother flipped his first ace. He downed his second just as Lin flipped her first ace. Korra was still flipping, her clumsy fingers getting a lot of help from Asami.

"Faster, Lin.' Kya said, almost mockingly. Lin gulped, feeling herself blush.

"Faster, Lin, Faster!" Lin ran a tongue over her lips. Focus. She flipped her second ace, reaching for her final shot. She took it like it was the only thing keeping her alive. At that moment, Kya decided to really squeeze her thigh, and Lin spat the shot out in suprise. She covered her mouth with a hand and looked to Kya, who was evidently playing dumb.

"Too much for you, Chief?" Kya asked. "I know you hate those coconut ones."

"Done!" Bumi shouted, slamming his glass on the table and standing up in triumph.

"Sit down before you hurt yourself, Bum'" Kya said.

"Hah! This old man just beat Chief Beifong and the Avatat in a drinking game. I think you're lacking Kya." He smirked, gripping the edge of his coat. Kya's eyes narrowed, and Lin watched as the waterbender stood up, taking the can next to Asami. She held it horizontally in her hands, thinking it over, before cracking into it with her nails and drinking out of the torn aluminum. Lin watched, oddly turned on by the action. Kya kept her eyes on her brother who's jaw was agape. Kya threw the can on the floor wipednher mouth with her arm, also hot, and sat back down.

"Thats got to be... what, like three more shots? I think your lacking Bumi." Bumi crossed his arms, storming away. Korra looked thoroughly impressed as Kya's newfound talent, getting the healer to promise to teach her. When the kids left, the two of them were left at the table in silence. Lin cleared her throat, hoping Kya would say something.

"I must've impressed you, you have nothing to say." Kya grinned, taking the cards and returning them to their boxes.

"I didn't know you could chug like that." Kya scoffed, stacking the boxes of cards in the center of the pile.

"Yes you did," the waterbender finalized. Before Lin could say anything more, Pema interrupted, lifting a leaf over their heads.

"What are you doing?' Lin asked.

"Its a mistletoe, Lin." Pema explained. Lin looked to Pema in confusion.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" Lin asked, crossing her arms gruffly.

"Oh Lin, don't be so grumpy, you kiss whoever is under the mistletoe." Lin looked to Kya, who was undressing her with her eyes. This again?

"Alright, alright, fine." Lin leaned in for a quick kiss, taken aback when Kya gripped her face, holding her lips hostage under the mistletoe. Kya's tongue breached her mouth and Lin almost hummed at the soft groan Kya released. Kya pulled away, licking her lips modestly as the crowd cheered and whistled. Lin pressed her fingers to her lips. Pema looked mildly insulted she likely hadn't meant for the two of them to make out out under the mistletoe. To be fair, Lin hadn't expected it either. Lin looked down at the floor with a blush, while Kya sat there, smirking at the results of her handy work. Someone whistled, likely Bolin and Lin was urged to stand up. With a dip of her head she retreated to the washroom, closing the door behind her.

As she expected, it wasn't long before a soft knock rapped on the door. Lin opened it, stepping aside to let Kya though.

"Did I embaress you?" Kya asked, looking to Lin. Lin scoffed.

"Yeah, but I think I'll be fine." Kya's lips stretched into a grin. Lin pursed her lips, leaning against the sink when Kya pressed her chest against hers.

"Ready to get out of here?" The waterbender asked. Lin nodded,

"I've been ready the whole night." Kya laughed.

"I know you have." Kya took Lin by the hand, the two of them snuck passed those who remained at the party and up the narrow stairs of the Air temple, celebrating by themselves for the rest of the night.

#legend of korra #kyalin #lin beifong #kyalin during the holidays #i know they dont have christmas and neither do i but I want to give it a shot #i love Kya teasing Lin its the most solid hc

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death-himself · 4 years ago

Note

I don't know if you do prompts, but if you do, I was wondering if you'd ever consider adding a part in the Bogeyman!Virgil verse where the family has a fight.

Kids at that age are so temperamental, and they say things they don't mean to their family when they're so young, expressing hatred a lot. It's bound to happen, and siblings especially fight so often.

I could imagine one of the kids screaming at Virgil that he's a monster, not their real brother, that they hate him, that they hope they never see him again. It's pretty standard for a child, but I doubt Virgil would know that, and with his past of being unloved, I could see him immediately being heartbroken and devastated.

Love your work!

Sorry it took so long to get to this anon! The one-shot I wrote for this one actually ended up being like twice as long as usual :) I can imagine all of the kids, especially Roman or Patton getting upset with him pretty easily. And maybe this would also work for Thomas, I mean a single father of four kids would probably end up getting mad at them and hurting their feelings unintentionally every once in a while.

Anyway here’s the fic, I added Remus and Emile in just because (warnings for angst, fear, and Roman being an asshole at the beginning)

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to break it. He would’ve never broken one of their toys on purpose. He stared blankly at Roman’s plastic sword, the blade bent at a very noticeable angle. Roman’s eyes widened as he gazed at the damage, snatching the sword from Virgil’s hands to get a closer look. His eyes filled with tears instantly, big drops falling onto his broken weapon.

Virgil bit at his lip, guilt filling his stomach as he crouched down in front of him. He put a hand on Roman’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “I’m sorry Ro, I didn’t mean—” Roman shoved his hand away with a whimper, smacking him as hard as he could with his sword. Virgil flinched, despite the kid’s blow not causing him any pain. “I’m sorry, okay? We can get you a new one.”

“No! I liked this one!”

“Well...then maybe we could—”

“No!” Roman shrieked. “Go away! I hate you!” Virgil’s heart sunk into his stomach.

“Y-You don’t mean that Ro.” Virgil tried to put his hand back on Roman’s shoulder, but only got another smack from his toy sword.

“My sword was broken by a meanie monster.” Roman muttered angrily. As he stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, Virgil stayed crouched, watching him leave with glazed over eyes. It had been so long since he had been called a monster, he had forgotten how much it stung. And now it hurt much, much more.

He took a shaky breath, gaze shifting to the ground. Roman did tell him to go away...

Okay. He’ll go away.

Thomas had heard Roman screaming and ran to the stairs, just in time to see the kid in question storming down with tearful eyes, and Virgil melting into the shadows and leaving. In Roman’s hands was his favorite toy sword, now bent beyond usable. “Oh Roman, what happened?”

“Virgil broke it! He’s a big meanie!” Thomas glanced up the stairs, where Virgil had disappeared. Not hearing Patton talking to him in the living room or Logan asking him questions in Virgil’s room meant he probably wasn’t anywhere in the house. Of course of all the sons to disappear after an emotional outburst it just had to be the one who could teleport.

“Were you two playing and it broke, or was he mad and broke it?”

“We were playing, and he was holdin’ it, and then he smacked it against the wall and it broke!”

“Do you think he meant to break it?” Roman huffed, wiping at his eyes before crossing his arms.

“...No, but he still broke it.” A bit of relief filled Thomas at that, but he would never tell Roman. Son or not, he wasn’t sure if we would know how to calm down an angry bogeyman that intentionally breaks his adopted brother’s toys.

“Do you know where Virgil went?” Roman blinked, the question breaking him out of his anger for a moment. He looked back up the stairs, eyes glancing around for a moment, surprised at Virgil’s absence, before huffing and turning back around.

“...No, but good riddance! He broke my sword!” Thomas took a deep breath. Okay, so Virgil could be anywhere. Now he just had to hope he was somewhere with a stable connection; maybe he could call him. If not, he might’ve just lost a son. His heart began to pound at that, but he hid his worry before Roman could see.

Right, he had to deal with Roman first. He slowly took the broken sword from Roman’s hands, rubbing gentle circles into his back. “I’ll see if I can fix this. If it can bend without breaking, I might be able to bend it back. Why don’t you watch some cartoons with Patton while I give that a try?”

“But what if you end up breaking it more?”

“Then I can get you a new one. We might even be able to get you a new one today if you want.”

Roman whimpered. “But I like mine.”

“I know you do, bud. But sometimes...things break and have to be replaced. Nothing lasts forever.” Thomas glanced up the stairs, hoping to see Virgil returning. Still missing. “I’ll need you to apologize to Virgil later, okay? You said a lot of mean things to him, and probably made him feel really bad. And he’ll have to apologize for breaking your toy. Sound good?”

Roman was still clearly upset, but he nodded anyway, staring down at his feet as he thought. Thomas ushered him into the living room to distract him with the TV, then sent a text to Virgil’s phone, hoping he would get it.

Virgil had gone back to his cave. After officially moving in with his dad and brothers, he had expected to never want to—or feel the need to—come back here. But it was just as cold as he remembered. He sat with his back against the wall, staring through unfocused eyes as the shadows on the other side of the cave seemed to taunt him.

Maybe they were. Maybe they were thinking “what an idiot, caring for humans. It’d never work out in the end. Something always goes wrong.” At least that was what he was thinking. He knew how quickly humans could turn on other humans, it would make sense for them to turn on him much quicker.

His body was still weighed down by guilt. He broke Roman’s favorite toy, of course he would be mad. Virgil knew if one of them had broken something of his, he would probably be pretty upset. His words still rang in his ears, though.

He’d stay in the cave until things might have settled down. Then maybe he’d go back and talk to Dad.

Virgil was gone for two days by the time Roman felt just as much guilt and fear as the bogeyman himself was feeling. Thomas was trying his best to stay calm, knowing Virgil was fully capable of taking care of himself, but that fatherly panic was beginning to take over.

Virgil had told him about the cave he used to live in, and Thomas assumed that he had gone to stay there. But he had no clue where it was. As far as he knew, Virgil could be in some sort of Floridian cave less than a mile away or a cave all the way in Australia. He kept texting and calling in hopes that he would answer, but the chances of him having wi-fi in a cave was slim to nil.

He told Remus about Virgil’s disappearance, hoping that the only other person with demon children would know where his cave was. What he got as his answer was Remus putting him on hold for a whole hour, then coming back to say a terrifyingly serious “I’m on the case” before being hung up on. Whatever Remus was up to only made him more worried.

Virgil hadn’t expected to start his third day in his cave being tackled by two other bogeymen. He let out a startled curse as the two slammed into him and shoved him into the shadows, taking him with them back to their home. He growled, glaring at the two kids and preparing to fight back, before realizing where he was.

Remus bopped his head with a rolled-up newspaper, Emile grinning eagerly behind him. “Hey there Vee!” Virgil sighed, his heart rate beginning to drop back to normal.

“Hey...”

“Uncle Thomas has been real worried about you.” Remus spoke, looking the newspaper over in his hands as if it were a weapon.

“He has?” Virgil tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

“Well fuckin’ duh! He wouldn’t have called me of all people if he wasn’t!”

“Did he ask you to get your kids to kidnap me?”

“No, that was my idea.” Emile responded happily, bringing Virgil over to the couch and giving him a cup of hot chocolate. “I thought it’d be funny. Sorry if it scared you.”

“It’s fine, I guess.” Virgil watched as Janus stuck his tongue out at him, a grin on his face as he ran off down to his bedroom, Remy following soon after. Remus kicked his feet up on the coffee table, looking at him expectantly.

“So you gonna teleport back home, or do ya want one of us to drive you there like a human?” Virgil couldn’t answer. It was nice to hear that Dad was worried, but he was more concerned about how Roman felt. Emile seemed to sense his unease, ruffling his hair a bit.

“Thomas told us what happened, and Roman’s really sorry. This sort of thing just sort of happens with kids. Kids as old as your brothers get upset really easily and say things they don’t mean.” A warm smile spread across his face, slowing Virgil’s skipping heart and steadying his constantly anxious mind.

“Roman doesn’t actually hate you, especially not because of just one mess-up. Kids’ brains aren’t exactly developed enough to properly respond to things that upset them, anyway, so this is pretty normal.” Virgil nodded slowly, staring down at the hot chocolate in his hands.

Remus giggled excitedly, saying in the most affectionate voice Virgil had ever heard “I bet you could destroy the world with those smarts, Lilo and Switch.” Emile’s cheeks turned red, and his smile was redirected at his boyfriend.

“It’s just basic developmental psychology, nothing but fifteen minutes of googling will tell you this much.” Remus just hummed happily. Emile turned his attention back to Virgil. “So what do you say? You wanna go back now, or wait a bit?” Virgil pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He did miss the house...and his room...and his family.

He sighed, his anxiety failing as he placed down the cup of hot chocolate, stood up, and without another word dropped into the shadows.

Virgil appeared in his room, relieved (and for whatever reason a bit upset) that no one was there. He gulped, debating whether it would be more awkward to walk out and find the others or just wait there until someone comes in. But Dad decided that for him, singing a song from a musical he hadn’t shown Virgil yet as he went about cleaning the house.

Dad stared up at him, expression blank as his brain tried to figure out what was going on. The memory of their first time seeing each other face-to-face played in Virgil’s head—and wow, he looked just as confused as he did back then.

The lightbulb went off in his brain and his eyes widened, dropping his cleaning supplies and pulling him into a hug, letting out a relieved, almost delirious laugh. “Oh thank goodness you’re okay!” Warmth filled Virgil’s heart as he hugged back as best he could, his arms pinned to his sides by Dad’s tight grip. “You were at your cave, right? I really need to figure out where that place is.”

“Janus and Remy know, Emile sent them to kidnap me and bring me to their place.”

Dad pulled away, eyes wide. “They kidnapped—” He stumbled over his words, sounding both alarmed and confused, before going silent. “You know what, I’m not even surprised.”

“Yeah, those guys are weird.”

“How did those kids know where the cave was, though?” Virgil shrugged.

“I think all three of us were formed there, they just never actually lived there. That’s my best guess at least.”

“Well...I’m just glad they found you. We’ve all been really worried.” Virgil heard four small feet running up the stairs and over to his door, two faces peering in. Smiles spread across Logan and Patton’s faces as they practically tackled Virgil to the ground, clinging onto him as if he’d disappear if they let go. Virgil hugged them back, just happy to see them again.

Then he heard another pair of feet run up the stairs, and Roman appeared in the doorway. Virgil gave him an uneasy smile. “I’m...sorry for breaking your toy, Ro, I didn’t mean—”

Roman’s lip began to quiver and tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran to hug Virgil, clinging on tightly as he babbled out apologies until his words were completely unintelligible. Virgil awkwardly hushed him, running a hand through his hair as his incoherent babbling began to die down. “It’s fine, Ro, I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine!” Roman whined. “You disappeared for two days and I was really mean to you and I thought you’d never come back and I’m sorry!” Virgil looked to Dad, hoping he would be able to help. Dad came over and gently shushed Roman, saying “Virgil’s here now, he’s not gonna leave, we’re all gonna be okay, bud.”

Roman slowly calmed down, tears no longer falling from his eyes and breathing beginning to steady. Dad asked Logan and Patton to go back downstairs while he talked with Roman and Virgil. He had to make sure his two oldest kids would be okay.

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ourstarscollided · 4 years ago

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jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)

wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).

Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?

If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)

Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke

I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.

Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.

“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”

(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)

She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”

5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke

Inspired by paper - LANY

This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.

“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”

He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.

Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke

I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.

It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!

“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”

“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”

His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.

Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.

Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie

No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.

“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”

His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”

Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”

“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”

Dear Julie, Love Mom series

I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.

Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)

Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.

The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.

Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”

Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.

They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.

Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.

“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.

Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.

“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.

Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!

#gotta tag this so that it doesnt ever show up in any tags on tumblr.#i like that what got me to post about my writing was a fanworks appreciation week. but i will say that a couple weeks ago when i was feeling #extra good about my writing. i made a promise to myself to post smthg for the 6 mth mark of jatp and that kinda got backtracked because of #my requirements to be an adult and my general insecurities about putting out content that is mine for the works to judge sjsjsj #so this is me making it up to myself by sharing some things.#thank you rosie for indulging me in my ramblings. you’ve really given me confidence in my work even tho you’ve never read anything of mine.#just know I APPRECIATE YOU A LOT!!!!#i hope you dont mind that i tagged you!!!#anyways this is gonna get thrown into my queue for wednesday and whenever it posts is whenever it will post.#i also typed this on my phone (i DO NOT RECOMMEND IT) so sorry if the formatting is janky. i didnt wanna give myself time to second guess #myself and end up not posting it. sjjs #jatp fanworks appreciation week #sometimes i write #personal #<- need to come up with tags for myself welp #sunset queue

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unpopularly-opinionated · 3 years ago

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FINALLY FINISHED NARUTO AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Honestly, and this might sound harsh, but I think I give the series overall a 6/10. Being generous, I’d say it’s maybe a 7/10, but I’m deducting one point because I’m almost positive the only reason I’d rate it that high is because despite all it’s flaws, after watching 720 episodes across two series and 10 movies, you’re just going to be attached to the characters and show regardless of how you feel about it.

I know it’s super popular, or was anyways, and I can absolutely see why, but there were just too many issues that bothered me personally. It’s frustrating because I want to like it, I really do. There’s so many elements at work here that are so just perfectly me that it’s almost weird that I don’t like it, but I don’t. Obviously I liked it enough to spend hours upon hours watching it, but I think I just kept expecting it to get better at some point, and that point never happened.

More about my issues with it below...

I don’t know how to frame this (I never do) so it’s mostly just off the cuff.

I’ll start with the easily dismissible criticisms, the movies. Obviously all but one of the movies are non-canon (and I’ll get to the canon one shortly...), and they’re made by other studios so it’s not entirely fair to criticize the series based on them. I’m far too used to this weird format from Pokemon and their non-canon movies, so it wasn’t a huge deal to me. I will say that, much like the Pokemon films, almost all of the Naruto films followed the same exact format: Naruto goes to a location we’ve never heard of before and will never hear of again and is forced to protect someone abrasive and annoying until the enemy is defeated and they become BFFs that we’ll never see or hear from again.

I’d say, in order from best to worst:

Road to Ninja - Naruto the Movie

Naruto the Movie 2: Legend of the Stone of Gelel

Naruto Shippuden: The Movie 3: Inheritors of the Will of Fire

Naruto Shippuden: The Movie - Bonds

Naruto Shippuden: The Lost Tower

Naruto the Movie: Ninja Clash in the Land of Snow

Naruto Shippuden: The Movie

Naruto the Movie 3: Guardians of the Crescent Moon Kingdom

Naruto Shippuden the Movie: Blood Prison

The Last: Naruto the Movie

Yes, you read that right. The one canonical movie I put in dead last. Originally I thought that position was reserved for Blood Prison, which offended me because of just how utterly contrived the plot was and how out of character everyone needed to act to get it moving. But somehow, The Last took last place because of just how bad of a movie it was that for some reason has the audacity to be canon. And look, I know why it’s canon. It’s where Naruto and Hinata ‘officially’ get together and it ‘explains’ some missing plot elements from the series (more on that...), so of course it’s canon.

But come the fuck on, the last movie in the franchise, the one canonical movie, the one that may or may not take place after the Great Shinobi War, I.E. the big final battle of the series, has Naruto going into the fucking hollow earth through a cave portal that takes him to the moon, which is falling because the man on the moon is an incel and hates earth? What kind of methamphetamines were the writers on for that one. The Hinata and Naruto bits were fine, but holy fuck was that plot bad. They may as well have put Naruto in a spaceship and sent him to Mars to fight Martian Shinobi, I mean if we’ve already crossed the line, why not run a marathon beyond it.

The movie was meant to explain away a one-off line made in the series, that admittedly I did sit and ponder whether or not they’d ever explain it, about the Sage of Six Path’s brother, Homura, who went to go live on the moon after they defeated their mother Kaguya. It was mentioned so briefly and only once that I thought for sure it wasn’t ever going to be brought up again. I also wondered where Byakugan came from since we’d gotten an explanation for Sharingan and Rennigan during the series, but never for Byakugan. I actually don’t mind the explanation that it came from Homura’s bloodline, I think that tracks well enough. The man on the moon bit was...odd, but when I thought of how strong Homura was, I didn’t think much of it. I actually thought he somehow was going to still be alive and he’d come down to earth after they defeated Kaguya, but that never happened.

Here’s the rub though, and one of my issues with the series as a whole, which is that the show seemed to keep writing itself into these weird corners where they’d be forced to do something completely nonsensical, purely because they were the ones who wrote them into those corners. It would’ve been simpler to just say all visual jutsu was derived from Kaguya’s power, or the Homura died so there’s no man on the moon, or that Tsunade died so Kekashi needs to become Hokage, etc. They didn’t have to write themselves into these scenarios, but they did anyway and the end result was them having to write complete and utter nonsense to rationalize why they did it in the first place.

Kekashi becoming Hokage doesn’t really make any sense, like at all. They literally bisected Tsunade during the war but willed her back to life when they could’ve just as easily killed her then and there since she’s largely irrelevant to the rest of the series after the war, and then it would’ve made more sense why Kekashi, the man who on numerous occasions said he didn’t want to be Hokage, would then be forced to become Hokage as he’d be the next strongest (eligible) shinobi after Tsunade. I feel like it was all meant to be a payoff to Obito’s dying words to Kekashi which told him to become Hokage, which even then I found myself asking why the fuck would he say that? Kekashi almost was Hokage once before and was so relieved when Tsunade woke up from her coma so he wouldn’t have to.

Also can we talk about how bad that final episode was? I mean don’t get me wrong, it was cutesy as fuck and actually brought a tear to my eye (when Naruto asked Iruka to be his dad I fucking lost it, I won’t lie), but they cut it off before the wedding? Before the aftermath? Before he becomes Hokage? Like I understand Boruto exists, but I don’t feel like that’s a justifiable excuse for ending your long-running series on merely the assumption that he’ll become Hokage in the future. Maybe if the show was a whole 500 episodes shorter I’d be comfortable with it ending on a vague, yet hopeful ending, but when I’ve spent fuck knows how many hours on this series you bet your ass I’m expecting some mother fucking payoff.

Also do not even get me started on Sasuke. What. The. Fuck?!?!? My guy literally just sends a note via carrier pigeon to the wedding? That’s it? Did I just fucking hallucinate the last 720 episodes or wasn’t Sasuke supposed to be like the second main character??? The absolute absurdity.

This isn’t even much of a comparison because it’s so much shorter than Naruto, but it’s all I got in the moment, but imagine if at the end of Return of the Jedi, Han Solo just decides to fucking dip. He’s just not there. He and Chewie hopped into the Millennium Falcon the moment the Death Star was destroyed and just dipped. No longer in the movie, just gone. Didn’t say anything to Luke or Leia, just up and left. That would be insane.

It’s even more offensive knowing him and Sakura end of together. My. Fucking. Gods. This has been the relationship I’d been dreading since the start when it became abundantly clear they weren’t doing even the barest minimum to actually establish a relationship between them. As it is, when I watched The Last, I thought to myself: “Well, Naruto and Hinata’s relationship hasn’t been the most well-developed relationship I’ve seen, but it’s still leagues better than whatever hatchet job they’re going to pull to convince me Sasuke and Sakura end up together”. We didn’t even get the hatchet job. That’s just how little of a shit they gave. They did not even bother pretending to give any explanation as to how I’m supposed to believe they end up together. I’m quite literally just supposed to believe it because I know it will happen. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, it’s just something that is and therefor I must accept it. Absolutely ridiculous. As it stands, the show gave us more reasons why Sakura and Lee should end up together than they did for her and Sasuke. Fuck, I’d even buy Sakura and Inu before I’d buy Sakura and Sasuke.

I could go on, I really could, but it’s late and I’m just looking forward to putting this behind me. At some point, probably not too soon, I will watch Boruto. As it is, my watch schedule is pretty thoroughly booked up for a while. I can’t foresee myself ever watching this again. I know I sound harsh on it, but I wanna reemphasize that I want to like this show. It’s not a show I think is bad period, it’s a good show I think was just done rather poorly. It all felt very off-the-cuff, much like this shitty review. I don’t know what the manga-to-adaptation pipeline looked like when the show was live, but clearly something got fucked up somewhere. This really feels like the Fullmetal Alchemist to Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, and I can’t help but want Naruto to get the Brotherhood treatment...if such a treatment even exists.

#random rant #random #anime #personal #review #pls don't scream at me for my bad opinions #I get that this show was obscenely popular #still is to an extent #it was as painful for me to write this as it was for you to read it #I feel so conflicted on this #like I want to say I loved the show #because many many parts of it I did #but so many more parts just completely failed for me

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youllneverknowrac · 5 years ago

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Oscar Diaz- Playing House

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Life has been treating you better than you could imagine. Having moved in with Oscar after your parents kicked you out not too long ago was the best thing that’s ever happened, considering the circumstances, your boyfriend keeping his word and taking care of you. He was making sure you had everything you needed and then some.

School had just let out for the day, you and your group of friends walking out of the building together chitchatting away until you spot Oscar’s famous red car. You give a quick goodbye to each of them, hurrying over to the car and sliding in all the way to the middle of the large seat to be up against him,”Hi.” You smile and give him a kiss on his cheek,”Are we picking up Cesar today?” You ask him after he greets you back with a kiss of his own, opting for your lips instead. The engine starting up, Oscar wasting no time in speeding down the road.

“Nah, he wanted to walk home today with his friends.” He answers, keeping one hand on the wheel, his other arm snaking around your shoulders,”So did your mom call you today?”

You sigh and nod solemnly,”Just for a few minutes before first period started. It’s still kind of awkward between us, she also said my dads mood is just getting worse everyday.” You inform him, getting quiet for a few moments before continuing,”I’m glad we’re attempting to talk more though...I do miss her.” You admit,”I know she said some horrible things about you in the past, so I’d understand if you’re upset that I’m talking to her again.”

“I’m not upset Y/N, she’s your mom so I understand. If you feel the need to have her in your life I’m not going to stop you or be angry about it.” He defends,”You do what you feel is best for you mami.” He answers truthfully, causing your heart to swell with how amazing he is and how he cared so much about your happiness.

“Thank you...for being so understanding. I love you.” You grin and scoot yourself on to his lap. Your feet on the seat and your back now leaning against the drivers side door, Oscar protesting for you to stop,”You can’t be sweet and expect me not to love on you.” You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck,as he strains to see the road. You playfully place quick sloppy kisses on the side of his face, ear, and neck, Oscar finally caving in and laughing at your antics.

“We’re going to crash and your going to fly through my windshield and then I’m not going to be so sweet any more.” He chuckles as you continue your assault on his face, his free hand gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter.

“Fine, fine.” You laugh moments later and carefully remove yourself from him, sitting back down in your original position,”I can’t help myself baby, you’re just so cute.” You tease and lightly pinch his cheeks, Oscar rolling his eyes and stopping your actions with his hands.

“Aye nena, por que estas asi conmigo?”(Aye babygirl, why are you like this with me?)

“Shut up, you love it.” You say with your own eye roll and playful scoff.

“Hmh, you think I love it.” He says, glancing at you before shaking his head and chuckling in defeat as he turns on to your guy’s street.

“See? I was right.” You smile, Oscar not replying, a smile of his own resting on his face.

After pulling into the driveway minutes later, you pick up your bag and head inside, going straight into the bedroom to get out of your clothes.

“Can we order pizza tonight babe? A meat supreme with extra cheese from Giovanni’s sounds so good right now.” You suggest to Oscar who followed you in,”Please.” You add, pulling off your jeans and tossing them into the hamper.

“Yeah, we can do that.” He agrees as he leans against the doorframe with crossed arms,”You wanna go ahead and order it? Cesar can pick it up on his way home.” He says watching as you tug on a pair of shorts.

“Yeah, I’ll call right now.” You agree, pulling on one of Oscar’s too big t-shirts. Feeling comfortable you grab your phone and call the familiar number that you order from all the time,”Hey Dina! It’s Y/N...yeah our usual order.” You laugh as she cuts you off,”15 minutes? That’s fine, Cesar is going to swing by and grab it. Just use the card on file and charge it since I’m not sure if he has any cash on him...Okay, thanks!” You say and hang up excitedly,”Oh my god I can’t wait, it’s going to be so amazing.” You squeal and clap your hands in delight.

“Chill out baby. It’s just food.” Oscar laughs amusingly as you walk by to head into the living room, giving your butt a hard smack.

“You, chill out.” Jumping in surprise when you feel his hand land against you, a squeeze followed after.

“I just can’t help it, you’re so cute.” He says smugly, copying your words from earlier as he pulls out his phone to text Cesar about the food.

“You’re so hilarious.” You reply dryly, your butt slightly stinging as you plop your self down on to the couch to lay in front of the squeaking fan. If there was one thing you missed about your house it would surely be central ac. It wasn’t so bad here, the small widow units helping out to keep the house from turning into a sauna.

“Don’t be greedy with the fan.” Oscar says as he picks up your feet and sits down, letting them fall into his lap.

“It’s not being greedy if I was here first.” You say softly hitting him with your foot.

“Exactly, you were here first so you decided to hog up the whole fucking couch and air.” He replies pulling on your toe in return.

“Ow!” You yelp,”You know I hate when you do that.” You complain and pull your feet back quickly.

“Then don’t hit me with your big ass feet.” He laughs and grabs your legs to place them back on top of his,”Fair is fair mamas.”

The playful banter doesn’t stop until Cesar comes in with the food a bit later,”Sorry! There is a piece already missing. I ran into one of my classmates on the way back. She was going on and on about Ruby and helped herself.” He explains and puts the box on top of the coffee table in front of you and Oscar.

“That’s kind of weird but whatever...was it that Jasmine chick you told us about last time?” You ask curiously as you sit up and reach forward to open the box, Cesar nodding yes to your question as you grab a slice.

“You just let her take it?”Oscar laughs and grabs his own slice,”Man up hermano.”(brother)

“Leave him alone, what was he going to do? Steal it back? It’s a slice of pizza. Not that big of a deal.” You defend the younger Diaz brother, folding the cheesy goodness before taking a bite.

“I would have.” Oscar shrugs, beginning to eat his own slice, Cesar offering you a sad smile,”Ain’t no one taking shit off my plate.”

“Trust me, we know you would Spooooooky.” You smirk, drawing out his name in a amusing tone, trying to ease the bad vibe that formed.

“I’m just gonna take this to my room. I gotta finish up my homework. That cool?” Cesar asks, standing up with two pieces of pizza in his hand. Oscar nods and waves him off, not bothering to look up as he eats.

“He’s not like you, and you know that.” You sigh softly,”It’s okay for Cesar to be the ‘nice’ boy. He doesn’t have to be hard or tough.” You tell Oscar before taking another bite.

“Nice boy ain’t going to get him anything around these parts except for beat up. He’s lucky he’s still a kid, but all that’s going to change in a couple of years when he starts growing up.” Oscar says, putting down his slice to look at you,”Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong but just let him be a kid. Let him be the nice little boy that he is. Let him hang out with his little misfit friends and let a random girl take a slice of pizza from him. Freeridge is going to make him grow up soon enough, that’s inevitable, but don’t help speed up the process.” You explain,”That’s all I’m trying to say baby. I get it, he’s your brother and your trying to do what you think is best for him in the long run but just try to see my point of view.” You explain to him, finishing off your slice before going over to straddle his lap,”You’re a good brother and you’re so good to me and the people you care about, but you had to grow up way to fast Ozzy. I just want him to be him for a little while longer.” You say, looking deep into his eyes as you wrap your arms around him,”I know I don’t have much of a say here but I just wanted to give my input.”

“As long as you’re my girl, which will be always mamas, you’re always going to have a say in what goes on in this house. You are a part of this family.” Oscar tells you with a deep sigh,”I get what your saying, but I still can’t help but worry. What if something happens to me? I’m not going to be around to protect him or even you.”

“What’s wrong with you? Don’t say stuff like that, nothing is going to happen to you.” You say interjecting,”Ever.” Wrapping your arms around him tighter and burying your face into his neck.

“I’m not trying to make you upset Y/N...we just gotta be real here. We both know what I do and what it can lead too.”

“Stop. Please. This is about Cesar, not you and what if’s.” You mumble into his skin.

“Aight, let’s just move on from both subjects completely. Yeah?” He says, his hands moving up and down your back comfortingly.

You sniffle and blink back a few tears that wanted to fall, not moving from your position as you nod your head in agreement.

“I promise that I won’t let anything take me away from you bebé.” Oscar says, even though he knew deep down that his words were likely going to be broken, he just wanted to comfort you right now.

You don’t respond and just let him hold you for a while until you regain your composure,”I’m gonna finish eating.” You tell him with a deep breath,”Go talk to Cesar.”

Oscar nods and scoots you off his lap before leaning down to press his lips to yours lovingly,”Be right back.”

You smile and give him one final peck before reaching for a new slice, it was a bit cold by now but you didn’t mind. As you sit there and eat, all these thoughts run through your head about how today went. Your phone call with your mom, loving moments with Oscar, the playful fighting, the whole conversation about Cesar which led to Oscar’s lifestyle choices. It was just crazy to think that this would be your new normal for forever now. You couldn’t even be a real teenager yourself, because you had grew this strong attachment to both Diaz brother’s causing you to become a mom, wife, and girlfriend all in one. In all honestly you kind of liked it this way, because no matter what the day brung you would always have this house and two boys to come home to.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

Text

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 4)

It is only after they part ways that Azula realizes she hadn’t gotten his name. And she thinks about that for a long time afterwards. It is a stupid thing to have nagging her in the back of her mind. A trivial matter. He was a friendly face and a good companion but she didn’t know him all too well.

They’d spent a good week or so together. He helped her craft some tools like a good fishing spear and a bow and some arrows for hunting. She has an abundance of blankets so she traded one for a pan to cook her fish and game over.

They had talked a good deal, nothing of where she is headed or where she had come from. She didn’t have to drop a false name because he didn’t ask for one at all. There had been an unspoken courtesy, a knowing that she didn’t want to be known. So he settled for talking of his wife and of folklore that he’d heard during his travels.

She warned him of a rather troublesome group of bandits just to the south of where she had been before she’d entered the plains.

Azula steers her mongoose-lizard towards the skyline. She can see the outlines of buildings through a thin veil of mist. She hopes to be there before the clouds open up and soak her to the bone.

The man had told her a tale about how he and his wife had been in a thick forest huddling in a cave as they waited out a storm. He claimed that they met a spirit there; one that looked like a rabaroo but spoke like a child. They followed it out into the storm and it led them to a babe. They had taken the babe in and that, that was why he was on this journey. To trade furs and other goods for coin. He promised his wife that he’d have them plenty of food by the time he got back and toys too.

The village is in unobscured view now. And so her nervousness unveils itself too. There is always a pinch of nervousness when entering a new town; the smaller it is, the greater her sense of foreboding. She is more elusive in the bigger towns. In the smaller villages they want to get to know her.

She is almost certain that there is another larger town some miles away but she is just as certain that she won’t beat the storm. As though to diminish any figment of doubt, she spies the first fork of lightning stab into the cloud diagonal from it. She urges her mongoose-lizard to move faster. She reaches the village as the first drop of rain spatters on her cheek. The streets are desolate save for a vendor who had been late to pack in. The woman’s hair whips into her face. A face screwed up in distress and concentration. The wind is certainly picking up, it blows a few more fat droplets into Azula’s face. She hears the woman cry out as she fumbles with the protective tarp and it flies from her hand.

The sky opens up with a fury and Azula chides herself for pausing to gawk. The woman takes notice of her and she inwardly berates herself a second time. And then a third as she steers her mongoose-lizard towards the woman. She slides down from her mount and grabs the other end of the tarp. The woman grunts at the effort of securing it.

“Why did you wait so long to close your stall?” Azula questions over the storm.

“Why didn’t you plan your travels better?” She shoots back.

“I noticed the storm miles back. I can only get my mongoose-lizard to run so fast.” She swats at the wet strands of hair that plaster to her forehead and finds herself relieved that she had chosen to chop it short. The other woman doesn’t have such luck, her hair is flapping into her eyes and sticking to her bare shoulders.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“I was hoping that you could give me a place to wait out the storm.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “So you’re that sort.”

“That sort?” Azula asks. She wishes that the woman would have this discussion with her inside.

“You do things for things.”

“Well yes, that’s how it works.”

“Have you ever done anything helpful just to be generous?”

She thinks for a moment. A moment that turns into a minute and then a span of time long enough for the woman to say, “I didn’t think so.”

Azula frowns. “Fine.” She climbs back to her saddle, there is a decent puddle in it. It doesn’t matter she is drenched down to her last layer of clothing and then some.

“Wait. I didn’t mean anything by that.” The woman calls up to her. “You can stay with me if you want.”

But she is agitated already, perhaps wrongly so, and can’t imagine spending another moment with the woman. She gives the mongoose-lizard’s reins a flick and ventures into the storm. And really, what does it matter? Her sense of urgency has been washed away by having already failed to keep herself dry.

Thunder shakes the cobblestone, she hears a tree branch split. She thanks the spirits that she can bend lightning and has watched Zuko redirect it enough to have a sense of how it’s done. She finds herself an alley to steal away in.

The storm lets up as suddenly as it had come, tapering off with a few final patters. It had raged for a respectable ten minutes, but such a powerful burst can never seem to sustain itself. The village inhabitants are slower to emerge. She wonders if she is due for a second onslaught; she finds that storms like these usually come in pairs or several short sets.

She emerges from the alley dripping and shivering. Her mongoose-lizard looks just as miserable.

The streets don’t fill until the sun has been in the sky for at least an hour. And even an hour later, she is still sopping wet and dripping as though she herself is a raincloud. Her mood goes darker still.

Now, with a crowd, her nerves are flaring again. As wet as she is, she is twice as likely to draw attention. She will draw it thrice over being an outsider who is unmistakably Fire Nation.

She clenches the reigns much tighter than she needs to and guides her mount through the crowd. She watches three children, two boys and a girl kicking up puddles and giggling. An older child floats a paper boat down the stream of the sidewalk gutter. The children pay her passing by no mind. That is one constant from town to town; the children are always oblivious. At least until the adults make a fuss, then they get curious. She doesn’t like children, when they do take an interest in her they ask far too many questions and with all the social grace of a village drunk.

She scans the buildings for an inn. She will stay here for some time, earn herself some more coin, and be on her way. She resigns herself to the possibility that she might have to bypass the inn and sleep in the village green if she wishes to keep her earnings. She might have to do so regardless, this village is so small that it may not have an inn at all.

As she ganders at street signs and buildings, she feels eyes on her. Most are drawn out passing glances, some linger long enough to send a vibration up and down her spine. A very particular set of eyes refuse to leave her.

“Missus, you’re all wet!”

“So I am aware.” She answers dryly.

“I have hair too.” He beams up at her, one of his front teeth is missing. “See!” He points at his hair.

“That isn’t what I said.” She grumbles.

“I also have teeth, missus. But not all of them! Do you have all of your teeth?”

Azula blinks. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because sometimes, for some reason your tooth gets all wiggly and then it falls out. My dad says not to yank it out. Or if you’re like my friend’s brother’s dad...” He stops for a breath and starts over. “If you’re like my friend’s father’s dad you got into a fight and got punched in the face!”

“Yes, well my teeth are fine.”

“Atsu!”

The child jerks. His smile seems to dim. “That’s my dad.”

The man, he can’t be much younger than she, approaches and with a sigh and a nervous chuckle asks, “he’s not bothering you, is he?”

“Yes, he is.”

The man flushes.

“I’m sorry, he just likes talking to people. I’ve tried to tell him that it isn’t polite.”

She shrugs. “Have you tried other means of discipline?” Really it is only a question that borders on being a suggestion, but the man seems to grow more uncomfortable. “Some children only respond to strict lessons and…” She falls short watching his expression flicker into something of concern. Sometimes she forgets that the Earth Kingdom isn’t so rigid with their children. “Nevermind.” She grumbles, her own face growing red.

“Did I do something bad, dad?”

He shakes his head. “No. Fire Nationals tend to be...stern and blunt.” He puts a hand on the boy’s back.

Azula swallows, something in her belly flutters with unease and regret. She shouldn’t care. She has no reason to care. But something in her itches to make a better impression. She opens her mouth to call for him to wait but she doesn’t utter a word. She can’t come up with anything to say afterwards. By the time she thinks up something, the man and his boy have slipped into the crowd. Apparently children aren’t the only ones that have the tact of a town drunk. And so she is left to navigate the town alone. She supposes that she should simply buy some new shoes and make her way to the city over. She has enough food to last until then.

That day she learns that children will probably be her second great downfall. Or maybe it is something about not being so rigid? She learns that she still isn’t a good person. That she’s unlovable at worst and hard to be around at best.

.oOo.

Navigating the palace for the first time in years is not unlike getting used to a new town. It is hardly recognizable, easy to get lost in, and she doesn’t know many of the inhabitants. A lot of them openly and unrelentingly eyeball her as she passes. The stares aren’t particularly malicious. In fact, she doesn’t think that they are ill-meaning at all. Mostly they stare at her as though she is a phantasmal spirit.

“So there are some new portraits up.” He gestures to the gallery. “As in some I mean, one.”

She catches the faintest of jolts as he seems to recall that the feud for the throne is still a delicate topic. She eyes the image of Zuko standing tall and proud, flame in one hand, olive branch in the other. She doesn’t find herself simmering and seething. It is more or less a solemn acceptance. There is a residual tickle of envy that seeps through the cracks. She thinks that it has less to do with the crown and more to do with the respect it represents. The honor she has lost and the purpose she has yet to find. The content and peace he has found that she can’t seem to grasp even when it is securely in her hands.

“He picked a fine artist.” She remarks. And that is all. They are onto the next hallway.

“It doesn’t bother you?” He asks.

“The only thing that bothers me is that you’re starting the questions thing again.”

“How am I supposed to get to know you if I don’t ask questions?”

She shrugs. “Watch. Observe.” She accidently meets the stare of one of the passing servants. “Like everyone else.” She fidgets with the excess folds of her robe. There is a part of her that wonders if she should open up, to tell him everything from start to finish. Perhaps to slip her journal into his bag before he leaves. She backtracks, not knowing what she was thinking.

“Zuko also had a new room added to the palace.”

“A new room?”

“Yeah it’s full of trinkets from the other nations. He thought that it would be a nice way to show that we’re trying to move away from the war.”

Azula nods. “It seems like most nations are. I hadn’t expected people to be so...inviting in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Because you’re Fire Nation?”

“That’s correct.”

“They didn’t recognize you, did they?”

“I have a feeling that they wouldn’t have taken as kindly to me if they did.” She confesses. She wonders if any of the people she had met along the way would still care for her if they found her in the palace with a prettily and painstakingly styled hair and a full face of makeup. Granted, she hasn’t gotten around to that yet.

“Oh! And we can go out to the garden!” Sokka exclaims. She readily allows the subject change. “That’s different to. Your mom and uncle planted this tea garden and Zuko had some flowers imported. There are more turtle-ducks too!”

“That sounds nice, I suppose. Hajime would have enjoyed it.”

“Hajime?”

Azula stiffins and scolds herself for letting that slip. “I’d like to see the spa, it has been too long.”

Mercifully, Sokka gets the hint. “The palace spa is different too.”

She frowns. “Not the spa. I liked the spa.” She folds her arms. “It was perfectly fine the way it was.”

“I think that you’ll like the change. Come on.”

At some point Azula had come to lead the way. Like muscle memory, she finds that she can still find her way about the palace. Mostly anyhow. There are things that throw her off, decor that hadn’t been there before, a new portrait, or something that has been moved from one place to another. The spa though, upon arrival, is both the same and different. It still has the frameworks of what it once was but it is grander now, more elegant. The fountain and its adjoining chair are exactly as they had been and a small tree in a large pot still sits on either side of the staircase leading to it. The carpeting is also much the same and sunlight spills in through a large window on the ceiling.

But there are new dragons that join the ones already accenting the back wall. And these ones jut forward with mouths spilling flames of gold. She notices that they too are fountains that lead to miniature fountains, presumably for hand washing. There are also several small crystals dangling from the ceiling, casting prisms all about the room. And when the sunlight strikes them right, they bounce off of the jets of water. There are also small turtle-duck statues resting near the potted trees.

It is so familiar yet so changed. She admits that she does like the change.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s nice, Zuzu.”

“I was about to have my hair combed, but you can go first if you want.”

She would very much like that. It will take less time for them to wash her hair anyways. Where hers has been mournfully hacked, his locks have lengthened so gracefully. She thinks it somewhat cruel how he is now the one with all of the splendor both visually and in status. She feels ruefully unremarkable. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

The serving girls file into the room. “You hired them back?”

“They weren’t supposed to have been banished in the first place.”

She isn’t sure that he had meant it as anything more than a statement of fact, but it still stings. She reclines in the spa chair, feeling terribly uncomfortable and out of place. The longer that she stays the more she feels as though she shouldn’t have come back. It is one thing to be plain in an ordinary world and another to be lackluster when surrounded by splendor.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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codenamed-queenie · 5 years ago

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Batman Movie Idea

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Matt Reeves movie, and how we might actually finally get a Robin on the big screen (I don’t know Batman and Robin(1997), who’s she?).

At first, I was thinking it would be amazing to get Tim Drake. I think we can all agree that he’s the least represented of the Batbros in the media, and seeing him debut in the DCEU along Battinson would be epic, to say the least.

But then I got to thinking--you know who we see even less of? You know who’s got just as much (if not more) quipping power as Dick Grayson? And a dubious, unprivileged past like Jason Todd? And the desperate need to prove themselves like Damian Wayne? That’s right, ladies and gentleman, I’m talking about--

--Stephanie Brown.

In the comics, Batman is just as reluctant to have a female Robin at his side as I’m sure a lot of rabid fanboys are to see one up on screen. (And that’s reason enough, honestly, but I’m not done)

But can you imagine? A Stephanie Brown origin story that doesn’t revolve around Tim Drake?

Picture this:

The movie opens with Batman going about his business--crushing it in the board room by day, and kicking butt by night. He’s tired, and lonely, and thinking about his other partner(s), who left. (Setting up that Nightwing movie people keep talking about, and possibly allowing for Jason and/or Tim to come in)

Alfred can tell Bruce is struggling, and continues to hound him about maybe possibly considering dating around? Maybe getting a dog? Just so that he’s not so alone. Bruce shrugs off all of these with the ‘No, I’m Batman, I’ll work and live and die alone, justice not happiness’ schpeel we all know and recognize.

But then one night, he’s out on patrol. And he comes across another person fighting crime in a cape:

Spoiler.

She’s in a laughably cheap homemade costume, and is basically just a tiny little five-foot-nothing child. A kid who saw superheroes on the news and decided ‘hey, looks like I’ve found my calling in life’. But even so, she’s...doing a decent job? She seems to know what she’s doing, but Batman swoops in and tells her to beat it.

And Stephanie, our stubborn Stephanie, says ‘screw that’ and stealthily follows him home.

Bruce goes about his everyday business, crushing it in the board room and handling CEOmanship like a Boss. But when he comes home, Alfred is missing and the secret door to his cave is hanging wide open.

So he makes his way down, and stops short to see Stephanie Brown with her feet on his desktop, eating a plain Eggo waffle and watching anime on the computer’s giant monitors. She wheels around slowly, like a supervillain reveal but with more waffles and less ‘actual threat’.

Alfred is tied up nearby and is giving Bruce a Look.

And Stephanie’s all, ‘Hey, Bats, I followed you to your secret lair. Toldja I knew what I was doing. Anyway, I raided your fridge, but I caught this intruder for you, so I guess we’re even?’

Bruce meanwhile is doing his Best not to have an aneurysm.

He tries to convince her to hang up her cape, but after a lengthy argument and a lot of shouting down, Steph manages to wrangle a deal out of Bruce. Three weeks. If she can prove to him that she’s strong enough to fight on her own in three weeks, he’ll let her do the Spoiler thing without interference.

Bruce has his own conditions, though. He has to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s keeping to their agreement. So she’ll do it wearing the Robin uniform, or not at all.

He and Alfred head upstairs, and Steph stews in her chair, proving that its totally possible to eat a waffle ‘angrily’.

The first night on patrol doesn’t go as planned. Steph’s in Dick’s old uniform, and it doesn’t fit. She’s trying her hardest, but it seems like Bruce is out to let her fail. (Not because he’s malicious, but because he wants her to understand just how dangerous this life is, and he doesn’t want her to choose it.) They return at the end of the night battered and exhausted. Steph flops down and Bruce asks her ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this? I won’t blame you if you don’t’ for the millionth time. Steph tells him to eff off.

As soon as he does just that, she takes off, still wearing the Robin suit. She climbs to the top of a building and looks out at the city. Then bursts into tears.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else just stopped into Gotham to see some old friends and brush up with their old mentor to get his help on a tricky case. Someone who happened to be swinging around nearby.

Enter, Nightwing, stage left.

He demands to know why there’s someone else wearing the uniform--and his uniform, to boot. At first, he’s confrontational and defensive, remembering what happened to Jason or/and Tim.

But then Steph explains that the Robin schtick is just so she can be Spoiler. All she wants is to stop people like her dad. Do some good.

And about five minutes into the argument, Dick melts.

He goes into full-on Big Brother mode. Trains her behind Bruce’s back (cue epic training montages with acrobatic flips and so forth) and offers to get her a better costume, and be her real mentor.

(The latter offer is one that Steph declines. She can handle the vigilante thing just fine on her own, thank you very much.)

Still, Steph spends her days with Dick--learning and hanging out, and doing the whole Sibling Thing (bonus points if Babs or Tim, or especially Cass make cameos) and spends her nights with Bruce. Who, though not for lack of trying, continuously fails to throw Steph off her game.

(Keep in mind that all of this is going on between the lines of the actual story--which of course has to be Bats looking into his own case. This is the Batman movie, after all, not a Robin movie. Sadly.)

But then Bruce cracks his case, and lands right into a trap set by the Main Baddie (tbd, but wouldn’t it be great if we got Cluemaster as a side-villain?), leaving it up to Robin and Nightwing to come to his rescue. (Bonus points if those aforementioned cameos suit up and join in).

After the boss fight ends and the dust settles, Batman nods and says something along the lines of “So Nightwing’s been training you. No wonder you improved so much.”

And Dick just shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? I barely had to do anything. We mostly hung out and talked. She’s a great sparring partner, though, B. You should give her more credit.”

Everyone turns on Steph. “Then how do you know what you’re doing?”

And she’s all “You’re kidding, right? My dad’s the Cluemaster. I’ve been training for this since I was seven years old.”

“Ohhhh. So your dad taught you to fight.”

“My dad didn’t teach me anything, guys. I saw what he was doing, and I saw the people who were getting hurt, and I decided to do something about it. Took a little inspiration from the flying Bat I saw outside my window at night, and made my own moniker.”

Dick laughs. “Looks like you’re a role model, B.”

“Nah, not him.’ Stephanie smirks. “I’m talking about Batgirl.”

So in the end, Bruce lets Steph keep Spoiler, and gives her a new-and-improved suit as an apology. The Robin mantle sits empty, but everybody agrees that its for the best. Maybe someday, it’ll be used again, but for now, there’s enough capes in Gotham.

For now, they’ve got a city to run.

(cue end credit scene)

A little boy in a lavish room is watching TV on a luxurious bed. He’s transfixed by the image of Batman and Robin fighting side by side on the news.

The screen turns off, and his mother stands in the doorway, remote outstretched. A disapproving frown marks her face.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, habibi?”

The little boy sits up straight and says, “Is it true? He’s found another?”

The woman tsks and strides across the room. Deftly tucking her son into bed, and smoothing the sheets around him, she explains that, no, the girl has chosen not to be Robin. Their plans are still on track, so there isn’t cause for worry.

The boy nestles into the pillow, but looks up at the ceiling. “Do you think he will recognize me? When the time comes?”

The woman, Talia Al Ghul, leans in and presses a gentle kiss to her son’s forehead. “Oh, habibi,” she whispers.

“A father always knows his son.”

The camera pans up, following the boy’s gaze to the ceiling, where mosaics of bat-winged creatures fly in circles.

#batfam #dc #dceu #batman movie #battinson #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #spoiler #robin #this is just me spitballing #i know it won't happen #and i know a lot of it isn't even plausible #this is just me playing around with a few ideas #thanks for your time #sorry its so long

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obscure-sentimentalist · 5 years ago

Note

“You can stop pretending to be tough now. It’s just me.” - Merlyn Boys, any au you feel like it :) they are all amazing! And this prompt list is like 90% Merlyn Boys material hahaha it was really hard to pick just one.

From this prompt list

(Thank you, anon! Not sure if you’re the same anon who’s submitted a few other prompts previously, or if there are a few of you: either way, I appreciate your enjoyment of these boys!!!)

From a new AU, whose creation can be credited to @absentlyabbie after talking about some variations on this theme. We’ll see how this first outing goes.

“You can stop pretending to be tough now. It’s just me.”

Connor fights the And that’s why I need to be tough that instinctively wants to rise up and instead blows out an exaggerated breath, unfolding his arms from what was apparently a very “tough-guy” stance.

Given the meeting out of which he’d just walked (and then had to wait an additional ten minutes for Tommy to get free from), it would make sense.

“Well, that went… swimmingly,” he quips, but seeing as he’s not the twin who’s so blessed in that department, the comment takes off like a limply-thrown paper plane that dips into an immediate nosedive.

Tommy claps a supportive hand on his back before reaching over to smack the Down arrow. “I think it went as well as it could have gone, given the circumstances,” he counters. “I mean, we figured it wasn’t going to be a warm welcome, because it’s Dad, but we’ve ensured that Mom’s clinic is going to stay in family hands.”

Connor manages to crack a smile at that—it was a pretty big win, and Malcolm’s face upon finding out that Tommy was not only refusing to sign off on his portion of the clinic, but had unearthed his presumed-dead-at-birth twin brother to outvote their father on the sale made for satisfying icing on the cake.

There are going to be many more challenges to come—crucial, life-altering ones—but at the very least, Connor can give his brother this.

Tommy fully understands what an incredible gift it is, as his expression goes from calmly pleased to igniting with the brightest, face-splitting grin imaginable. “Thank you,” he finally says, turning to clutch at Connor’s shoulders with both hands before pulling him in for an appreciative hug. “You know, I didn’t want to drag you into all of this…”

Connor shakes his head, tightening his hold on his brother in reassurance. “I offered to help. It was the very least I could do.”

Tommy pulls back a bit, joy starting to bleed out of his face as something else settles in. “Still…”

The elevator doors clank open without fanfare, bringing the hug to an end in order to board. Connor steps in first, slapping the Lobby button before settling in the back-right corner; while Tommy lags behind, his movements lead-heavy as if his body’s reacting to a realization that’s slowly coming to him.

By the time the doors have closed, it’s clear he’s reached it, and the celebratory times get yanked under by reality.

“We just told Dad,” Tommy says, voice pitching high in panic at the end as the weight of that revelation starts to sink in. “We just told Dad, and we told him in regards to an actual business matter. That means he’s going to have to go back to whatever buyer he had lined up and say, ‘Sorry, no can do, my son pulled his secret brother out of a hat and they ganged up on me, and, in an uncharacteristic move, I caved.’ There is no way that’s not going to get attention.”

“I agree.” Connor calmly folds his arms across his chest and leans against the back wall.

“You— you agree?” Tommy stammers, a loss for words as a cocktail of incredulity and irritation fizzes to the surface. “That’s all you have to say?”

That should set off alarm bells for Connor, get him to scramble to explain himself, to appease Tommy with a bit of anxiety and second-guessing. It’s what he would have done if he’d found himself in this situation years earlier, and his brother still expects to see that reaction. But this is one mask Connor is much too tired to pull up.

And so, he just nods.

Tommy lets out some sort of strangled, frustrated noise, before throwing the emergency stop switch.

Connor raises an eyebrow, giving his brother a Look.

Not that Tommy sees it, keeping his back turned to Connor as he runs a hand through his hair and makes as if he wants to pace. The indecision doesn’t last, though, and he turns to Connor, hand dropping limply to his side. “I just… Connie, what the hell is going on with you?”

Connor straightens at that, finally understanding what a bad move he’s made. He’d pinned too much on Tommy still being ecstatic over getting the clinic back (and, admittedly, his at-times less-than-stellar attention to detail), hoping that would be enough of a distraction to drop the matter with a shake of the head and mild annoyance. This is getting them into dangerous territory.

“First you—not that I’m mad, but without telling me—pack yourself up and move from Gotham to Starling,” Tommy notes, ticking it off on his finger. “Related to that, you drop your surgical residency with less than a year and a half to go, making no moves to transfer and pick it back up, and this doesn’t faze you at all?”

Connor opens his mouth and makes a hand motion with the intent of correcting his brother (quitting his residency at Gotham Memorial does, actually, mean something to him, and it was a difficult decision to make), but Tommy steamrolls over that attempt.

“And now, the grand pooh-bah of them all: after all this time of us deciding not to tell Dad or go public with ‘Surprise, it’s Twins!’ you throw it out the window, and are in no way concerned that you just nuked your anonymity?” Chest heaving, Tommy lets his shoulders drop and stares back at Connor almost helplessly. “I swear, I understand you even less than I do Oliver, these days.”

Oh, that’s a cutting remark, even if Tommy doesn’t fully realize it.

Connor sags against the wall, feeling physically backed into a corner as well as verbally. He brings a hand up to scrub the lower half of his face in thought, the short hairs of his scruff tickling his palm in a distantly familiar way. There’s no easy way out of this one, and as much as Connor is always up for a challenge, neither of the angles he’s currently entertaining seem like they’ll end well.

Option #1: Brush it off. Call it a delayed quarter-life crisis, a bit of soul-searching, something blasé, nothing to get all up-in-arms about. Pull a page from Queen’s book and lie.

Likely result? Tommy doesn’t take that as truth for a second. Something shatters irreparably between the twins.

Option #2, though…

Even if Tommy believes him (debatable, given the nature of the truth), Connor made a promise to himself that this was a burden he’d shoulder himself. No one else—especially not Tommy—should have to live with the same extent, the same specifics, of his knowledge.

The silence is closing in, though, and the longer Connor waits, the weaker Tommy’s faith and trust in him will become. It’s time to make a choice.

In the end, he opts for a bit of both.

“It— It’s kind of embarrassing, really,” Connor starts, forcing a nervous laugh up around the lump in his throat. “But I had this dream—nightmare, actually, and on New Year’s Day at that. I… don’t really remember the details, but when I woke up, it was with this really profound sense of loss.” He trails off, gulping a shaky breath in and cautiously lifting his gaze to meet Tommy’s.

It guts Connor all over again to see how his brother’s face plummets into a look of horrified understanding.

“Maybe not my finest hour, but I panicked,” Connor continues, hunching his shoulders slightly for effect. “Dropped everything, quit my residency, started looking up places in Starling. From the few scraps that lingered of that dream after I woke up, I got the impression that I had a lot of regrets—like, I never got the smug satisfaction of watching Dad’s face melt when I came walking through the door.” He allows a small smile to tug at his lips.

It’s infectious, as Tommy’s soon grappling with his own. “Wish I’d gotten that on camera.”

“You and me both,” Connor agrees, shaking his head. After a moment, he leans it back against the wall, making a point of diverting his eyes away from his brother. “But it was stuff like that. Things I could have done but didn’t, others I would never have even thought of in the moment, and still more that if given the opportunity, I would ch-…” He chokes on the word.

That’s tripping a little too close for comfort than these half-truths are supposed to.

Thankfully, Tommy misses that fumble, and his face softens at the rest of Connor’s words. “I get it, in a weirdly overreacting way,” he admits. “We’ve lost a lot of time in our lives that we should have had as brothers, and having something like that hit… it has to mess with your head.

“But Connor,” Tommy pauses, reaching out to place a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “It was a dream, in the end. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He winces. “So, you maybe could have waited on the big move instead of derailing your career.”

Connor groans at that and bats Tommy’s hand away. “I’ve made worse decisions, but that still wasn’t one of my best.”

“Hey, don’t start talking to me about terrible decisions,” Tommy warns as he finally turns forward again and switches the emergency stop off. As the lights come back on and they continue their descent, he shoots a grin over his shoulder. “On the bright side, though, at least that’ll dock you a few points and you’ll only beat me by a slight margin to be the favorite twin in the public’s eye. Because, you know, that’s going to be a thing now.”

Connor makes a face at that, which just makes Tommy toss his head back and laugh, eyes squeezed shut in mirth.

The distraction gives Connor the opening to let his expression fall and take a moment to fully process everything that’s just transpired.

Revealing himself to Malcolm was a risk, but the situation called for it, and frankly, it would have had to happen sooner or later. At least now Connor officially has an in, and can start doing everything in his power to make sure their father is brought down before he even tries to do the same to the city.

There’s still time—months, even—before the people of the Glades are truly in danger, but from Connor’s memory, the happier days Tommy has left are dwindling down to none. Things are going to blow up with Queen in a few weeks, by his estimate, and it won’t be much longer before Tommy pushes himself away from Laurel and into their father’s clutches, and by that point…

Well. It’s up to Connor to make sure things never get in the vicinity of that point.

Because these are the only things that matter:

Connor Rhodes woke up on New Year’s 2013 in his Gotham apartment. He went to sleep in Chicago in August 2019.

And he is going to save his brother even if it kills him.

#obscure-sentimentalist writes sometimes #merlyn boys #tommy merlyn #connor rhodes

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iphoenixrising · 6 years ago

Text

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe.

That is terribly angsty and now I’m intrigued.

(Just a note for babe not familiar with No Home for Dead Birds or Fracture: I write a scene in which Tim literally has a gun to head. This is not lighthearted angst, please be warned if you read this.)

At one time, his colors had been red, gold, and green.

At one time, he’d been part of something bigger, something important. A legacy.

At one time, he’d been able to fly without being afraid of falling.

Being Robin had been the epitome. Even with all the terrible things he’d endured, all the injuries, all the catastrophes, all the insane megalomaniacal baddies breathing down his neck, he wouldn’t have traded the tunic for anything in the world.

(Dick had known it, had known how painful it was for Tim give it up once his Dad found out.)

He would have died with the R on his chest and never had a single regret.

Realistically, he couldn’t have been Robin forever, and he’d known that someday he would have to give it up and either move on with his life as a regular person, or take on another name, another mask, to keep fighting the good fight.

He hadn’t expected Dick would take it without a thank-you or fuck you to mark the end. That hadn’t been in the plan.

But it’s fine because Dick was the first and Robin had been his anyway, right?

Right.

Wrong.

Staring down the .45 in hand, the gun his father hadn’t had the chance to use to save his own life, Tim Drake wonders how it all came down to this.

(Last one left standing. Of fucking course.)

How it had all come out so badly, how he could barely step foot back in Gotham, how he had to avoid the Manor, the Carriage House, his own family home. How he couldn’t pick up the phone or answer texts coming from his former team. How he could barely keep himself the fuck together now that Bruce was back. How his hands would start to shake when the Manor phone number popped up (Alfred). How his mind’s eye would go back to Dick at the Big Computer in the Batsuit, telling him they were still equals. How he would imagine what would happen if he hadn’t caught himself when that zip line was cut. How he would sit in his safe house, off the Bat radar, and mourn the times when he was actually–

(happy)

–part of a family.

The pictures from an old Vans shoebox, the ones he’d taken back when he’d had the run of Gotham, following Batman and Robin (Jason), are burning in the kitchen sink. He watches Nightwing’s blurry face melt away and pretends there aren’t tears in his eyes.

The old memorabilia from Haley’s Circus is in a storage unit outside the city, along with a box that has his last Robin suit.

The lawyer has strict instructions to deliver the key and a letter to his former adopted father, Bruce Wayne, upon news of his death so anything incriminating can be properly disposed.

(They wouldn’t need any of it anyway. They could just shred all of it and wash their hands of him. The Robin that never should have been.)

A map with all his safe houses would be send to Conner Kent, along with a letter of apology.

His favorite nerd shirts would go to Ives.

The sundries in his Perch would be for Steph, and the penthouse itself would go to Babs in case things in the theatre went sideways.

Bart would get a zip drive with all their old shenanigans on video, the only copies left once his systems uploaded relevant data to Titan’s Tower and his electronic footprint would be–

gone.

The box with the Red Robin costume he wore was already sealed and addressed to Jason Todd. The note on top was short and sweet: You were right. It never should have been me after all.

He’d already arranged for his share in Wayne Enterprises to be returned to Bruce Wayne immediately, handing him his family’s company back without any strings attached.

Months ago, he’d returned The Red Bird to the Cave when he was sure no one would be around to catch him. The implication that Robin would need the car one day right there in the fact he’d brought it back because honestly, it was never really his in the first place.

Alfred would get his pick of antiques from Drake Manor, and the house itself would be given to the city to be used as a halfway home for runaway teens. He’d made sure the funding would be there to run it for a few years. The donation was made in his mother’s name.

The hilt molds to his palm, the barrel glinting bright in the night. To his credit, his hands aren’t shaky when he slides the clip home and pulls the slide back to put one in the chamber.

(The team had been working fine without him for a while now. Even if they did need someone, there was another Robin to join the roster and keep them moving forward.)

An abrupt light in the darkness, his phone screen lighting up with a missed call notification.

Missed call: Dick the OG

Ironic since the last time he’d come this far, it had been him calling out to the last person he thought could pull him back.

(Not this time. He has a new little brother, a new Robin.)

Slowly, without putting down the .45, he presses the ignore when the phone starts buzzing against with another incoming call. He thumbs the button on the side to turn the phone completely off without listening to the voicemail.

The clip makes a difference, but the absurdity of it, of the last time he did this, was when his future self was a murdering, gun-toting Batman, and the only way he could see to stop it was to stop himself.

The press of the barrel is familiar, and not in that soothing kind of way.

He blinks, just blinks, and his face is wet, which is really stupid because no one is going to miss him any damn way.

His chest gets tight when he fingers the trigger guard, giving himself the time he needs to do it right. In the final moments, he inanely thinks about the time he was huddled against Dick, right after he'd almost tried cloning his dead best friends in an insane attempt to bring them back. It's really the last time he remembers being held, being warm, feeling like he still fucking mattered. It was Dick holding him tight with restraining, breathing against the top of his head, fingers buried in his hair.

It's when he could be weak while still in the mask, babbling to Dick about how he can't do this, he can't lose them all. He was crying then, too, when he told Dick about his mom and dad leaving, leaving, always fucking leaving. About how he got used to seeing their backs more than their faces. How he was left standing on his own for too damn long to just let it keep happening. He couldn't keep losing them, couldn't keep seeing people walk away, how it fucking breaks him.

And in the here and now, his chest hitches, eyes fluttering, hand tightening down because he'd said...and Dick had...

"But I'm here, Timmy. I'm always going to be your big brother!"

It had been the last time he'd been surrounded by the famed octopus hold.

(It was the last time for a lot of things.)

He laughed, smothered in Dick shoulder, something further away from a sob. "Then I guess you'll at least never leave me, right?"

"You will never be able to get rid of me. C'mon. We're going the hell home and having a movie day. Screw the Lazarus Pit, Robin. It's time for some R and R."

Dick had half-carried him to the waiting Batplane and talked him down out of trying to use the Pit for his own gain ever again.

The first knuckle rests on the smooth curve, a six-pound trigger.

(In the end, they all leave.)

(Not again.)

Conner's terrible mohawk and leather jacket.

Bart racing Wally at a hotdog eating competition.

Cassie running full tilt to throw herself at him when he'd come to Titan's Tower to ask them for help when Ra's was going to kill everyone Batman ever loved.

Raven nuzzling Gar out of plain sight so no one would think she was totally gone for him.

Jason coming to the Tower, alive good God, and the Robin he used to be super-imposed to be his hero and enemy in the same ghostly figure.

Bruce putting a hand on his shoulder on a ride back to the Cave, chasing the dawn, the Good work, tonight tired but sincere, and his whole body lights up.

His mother looking at peace in her coffin, a lily in her folded hands.

His eyes close on the out-of-the-way safe house, the plain beige walls, stripped and soulless. He keeps the team in his mind, the times he was happy.

Now.

Instead of a resounding boom followed by his grey matter splattering his personality, intelligence, imagination, him all over–

the wall to the safe house caves in under a super punch.

Conner is white as a sheet on the other side, brick and mortar crumbling under his hands. "No! Tim. Tim. Put. The. Gun. Down."

His mouth is dry and his brain pan full of nothing but pain and disappointment.

(But you brought it all on yourself, didn't you? The Robin nobody wanted. The son nobody asked for.)

He isn't numb enough to be calm, cool, and collected. "All...all you have to do–" a hitch in his breathing "–is walk away."

The meta floats in a little closer, hovering over the flooring instead of outside. His hands stretch out, gaze focused and intense.

"Can't do that, buddy. Looks like I should have been more of an asshole after all the League of Assassins shenanigans. Sorry, my bad."

Kon knows he's in trouble when Tim Drake doesn't laugh.

"Tim," he goes to serious in about two point five seconds because the hand holding that shiny automatic tightens enough for him to hear the screws in the hilt strain, "Tim. It's me here, okay? It's just you and me, just like it's always been. We’re besties, whether you're Robin or Red Robin or Tim fucking Drake because that guy is so damn cool." He inches closer, wondering if he's fast enough, wondering if he can really get to Tim in time–

Like the former Robin can read his mind, those violet-blue eye give him a blink.

"I’ve always wondered if you really are faster than a speeding bullet."

“No!”

(...as it turns out, he isn’t.)

#so there's that #winter answers #700 followers #loves to you babe #warnings for possible triggers #you will probably cry #tim drake #kon-el #i cried so yeah #comment if i should continue #my fic #my writing

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lalainajanes · 6 years ago

Note

KC + 5. “I’m stuck in the Mars colony, and you came to rescue me. Oops, I just kissed you, but it’s totally because I’m grateful, not because I love you and thought I’d never see you again… Ha… Ha… Maybe a little.” AU

Floating In A Most Peculiar Way

Her cell is bare, made of a plain grey stone that she can’t identify. It smells musty and she thinks she’s underground, the walls rough and curved. It holds nothing but a cot and toilet. A tray of food sits just inside the door.

Caroline’s stomach growls, hungry enough that even the unappetizing lump of lab grown protein she’d been given seems like a mouth-watering meal. She can hear nothing from beyond the thick metal door she’s locked behind, has no idea what time it is. She doesn’t even know what planet she’s on or who abducted her.

She’s seriously regretting leaving Othea.

If only she’d never found the picture.

She’d been making breakfast, had been delighted to find the tiny, cramped kitchen in Klaus’ rented quarters well stocked. He’d had real fruit, actual bacon. She’d rummaged through his kitchen to orient herself, then gone searching for something to tie back her hair.

A faded photograph, creased and seemingly forgotten in a drawer, had obliterated her good mood.

The Klaus in the picture had been younger, clean shaven and dressed in finery that was a far cry from the heavy boots and body armor she was used to seeing him in. She’d recognized two other faces. Front and center, sneering and superior, had been Mikael, the wealthiest and most ruthless merchant in the galaxy. He’d had his arm around Finn, his son and favorite minion.

Mikael had killed her father, had her mother tossed into a prison Caroline’s never been granted permission to visit. Her step-dad and his daughter had been to a harsh belt of mining planets. He’d ruined her life and Caroline had spent her entire adult life working to return the favor.

Seeing Klaus with him, in what looked very much like a family photo, had left her chest tight and her eyes stinging.

She’d told herself it was anger. At him, for being so persistent, for teasing and taunting and for seeming like he cared. He brought her gifts – pretty things, practical ones. A bracelet of pale blue stones, a tiny laser cutter that was just as powerful as something ten times larger. She’d tried to refuse them, of course, but he’d somehow always manage to slip them onto her person. She’d find them days later, in the bottom of her bag or tucked into a pocket when she went to wash her clothes.

She’d written him off the first time he’d walked into the bar she worked at. Bounty hunters were always, in Caroline’s experience, unbearably cocky. She smiled and flirted with them, for the tips and in hopes she could glean information or an opportunity from their drunken loose lips.

Klaus had turned out to be different.

He’d been a little more polished, well spoken, distractingly handsome. He’d kept coming back. Until bantering with him between customers was one of her favorite things. He’d made a point to let her know when he’d be off planet. She’d worried when he didn’t turn up after a job.

When he’d strolled in to the bar, three days after she’d been expecting him, with a black eye and a bit of a limp, she’d leaned across the bar and yanked his mouth to hers before he’d managed a greeting.

She’d closed up early that night.

They hadn’t slept much but she’d woken up with a smile, half buried under Klaus’ lean frame, pleasantly sore and sated.

Her contentment hadn’t even lasted the hour.

Hesitations led to injuries, sometimes death in Caroline’s more clandestine line of work and so she’d acted, slipped back into Klaus’ room and retrieved her boots and pants. Had been out the door and sending Kat an SOS before he’d even stirred.

She tosses another disgusted look at the lumpy grey substance that’s supposed to be food, deeply regretting that she hadn’t taken breakfast to go. Even if she wanted to eat it she can’t risk being drugged into docility.

The list of people who’d kidnap her, or pay to have her kidnapped, is shorter than it used be. Several of her enemies are dead (or worse) but she’s got more than her fair share.

She needs to keep a clear head.

Caroline paces, learns the parameters of the cell. She has no weapons, no means of calling for help. She’s been snatched from a transport ship, and no one will know she’s missing until she fails to turn up at Katherine’s. She hadn’t been due to arrive until next week.

The odds aren’t in her favor but that’s never stopped her from eking out a win before.

She feels the ground move before she hears the rumbling.

The floor shakes, seems to roll, and Caroline’s tossed into a wall as muffled crashes rock her cell. An attack, a vicious one, she’d guess, steadily moving closer.

She’d retrieves the cutlery she’d been provided with. The set’s made of flimsy metal but, alone underground in enemy territory, under attack, she’ll take any weapon she can lay her hands on. She tucks herself into a corner, and fervently hopes she won’t be forgotten.

She’d heard her guards muttering while she’d come up from sleep. They’d been paid handsomely - two warships, and weapons enough to outfit half a dozen more - to transport Caroline across the galaxy. Surely her captor would not allow her to die alone and waste such a hefty investment.

The lights in her cell flicker, then go out, and her cell is rocked again. The explosions feel like they’re just outside the walls that trap her, their impact more extreme. The stone against her back vibrates hard enough to jar her. Caroline clenches her teeth against a shout when she’s showered with debris.

She’s lurching across her cell, planning on squeezing herself under the meagre protection of her cot, when everything goes still. She pauses, squints in a futile attempt to see in the pitch blackness of her cell. She changes course, darts as quickly as she can towards the door and yanks at it.

Somehow, it’s still solidly sitting in its frame.

“Come on!” Caroline yells, putting all her weight into jiggling the handle. When it won’t budge she rests her ear to it, straining to make out any sounds on the other side.

Nothing. No footsteps or any sign of a captor coming to check on her. She resists the urge to kick the door – she’s woken up stripped of her boots, jacket, and anything useful that might have been in her pockets – and instead runs her fingers over it, searching for an edge.

Hopefully, the blunt knife they gave her is up to the task of taking apart the hinges.

Her fingers ache, have become slick with sweat and blood from the nails she’s ripped in her efforts. She’s ignoring the crumbling of the roof, refusing to look when she hears bigger and bigger chunks fall behind her.

Caroline flat out refuses to die alone in a cell, the victim of a cave in. She’s got too much left to do. Starting with ruining whoever had decided kidnapping her was a good idea.

The scrape of metal startles her and she straightens, backs away from the door warily. The turning of the lock is loud and she changes her grip on the knife, preparing to fight.

She cries out and has to turn away when it opens, the bright blue light her visitor carries hurts her eyes after hours in the dark.

She hears curse, then the light is lowered and a pair of hands, familiar though she’d only had one night to get acquainted with them, briskly run over her, checking for injury. Klaus seems satisfied that she’s whole, sinking a hand into her hair and covering her mouth with his.

It’s a possessive storm of a kiss. He angles her head with a tug of her hair, groans roughly at the first hot glide of his tongue. He’s frantic, sucking her lower lip harshly and tasting her deeply. Caroline doesn’t even think about discouraging him. She’d been thinking she’d never see him again and, with her fate looking dire, she’d acknowledged that she wanted to. She parts her lips and pressing up onto her toes, just as eager, plastering her body to his and relishing the need between them.

He’s warm and solid, his stubble scraping against her skin. The sting convinces her he’s real and not just a comforting figment of her imagination.

A loud, exaggerated cough startles Caroline and she shoves Klaus away. She wipes at her mouth, reality a harsh intruder. “What are you doing here?” she snarls.

He blinks, like he’s confused by her harshness. And maybe that’s reasonable considering she’d just had his tongue in her mouth.

“Rescuing you,” he offers, like it’s a question.

“I find that hard to believe.” Caroline shoves passed him, stops short when she spies two more men in the doorway. One’s wearing the same uniform as the guards who’d snatched her, the other isn’t, has a gun pressed to the guard’s head, but there’s something familiar about him.

He bows at the waist, “Kol Mikaelson, at your service. Rescuing damsels is not my specialty but if they’re all as tasty as you, darling, I might have to reconsider my line of work.”

“Shut it, Kol,” Klaus snaps. He grabs Caroline’s hand, sets a pack into it. Positions his body between her and Kol, who she suspects is his brother. “Your things. Get your boots on, we’re going to have to climb our way out.”

She takes it, because she’s not an idiot, and backs away. “Tell me why I should trust Mikael’s sons.”

Klaus’ eyes narrow, “How do you know Mikael?”

She laughs at the ridiculousness of that question but it’s high pitched and derisive. “I’ve never met him but I’ve been planning on killing him since I was about 15.”

She expects Klaus to be angry, or maybe incredulous, to accuse her of being insane. Instead he smiles grimly, “Me too.”

“What?”

She hears a grunt, then a clatter, looks passed Klaus to see that Kol’s standing alone now, the guard crumpled at his feet. “Nonsense, Nik,” he drawls. “Your patricidal tendencies started years earlier.”

“It’s not patricide. He’s not my father.”

“Lucky you.”

It’s Caroline’s turn to be confused, she’s got at least a half a dozen questions on the tip of her tongue. Klaus shakes his head, reaches for her again. He cups the back of her neck, presses his forehead to hers. “Later. I’ll tell you anything you want. But we have to go now. The building’s heavily damaged.”

Caroline knows he’s right, “Okay.” She drops to one knee and digs into the bag Klaus had given her. “You’ve got a way off planet?”

“And a safe house. They’ll be looking for us.”

“God I hope the walls are thick,” Kol mutters. “I need my beauty sleep and I don’t want to hear you too rolling around and moaning all night.”

The withering glare Caroline shoots him is probably lost in the darkness. Klaus sighs from above her, the huff of air conveying a wealth of aggravation.

It kind of makes her want to mess with him.

“Who says I’m sharing a room with him?” she asks, fingers flying over her laces. “I ditched him before breakfast a couple days ago.”

She hears a laugh, a thump that sounds suspiciously like a fist hitting a stomach, and then a wheeze. “I’m a bit puzzled about that, love. I thought I was quite hospitable.”

“I found a picture.” That, she now realizes, is where she recognizes Kol from. He’s been in it too, tie askew and clearly inebriated. “A family picture.”

“You couldn’t have asked me about it?”

Maybe she should apologize for snooping but, since she hadn’t actually meant to invade his privacy, Caroline’s not going to. She strives to seem casual because she’d rather he not know how much it had hurt to leave him. “When a girl finds out the guy she’d spent the night with is closely connected to pure evil gut instinct takes over. I figured it was safer to run.”

Klaus turns, stalks towards the door, the set of his shoulders stiff. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that he’s pissed.

She stands slowly, just in time to catch the light stick Kol tosses her way. “Just so you know, no one hates Mikael more than Nik.” He’s friendly enough and when she glances his way she finds he’s watching her with a great deal of interest.

“Mikael killed my father.”

“Another thing you and Nik have in common.”

Kol leaves while she’s still trying to process that and Caroline scrambles to follow, shouldering her bag and carefully picking her way over the debris that litters the floor. Klaus is just outside the door. He jerks his head to the left, “This way. Be careful.”

Kol goes first and then Klaus waits for Caroline to follow. He stays close as they work their way down the corridor. She stumbles once and his hands are there, saving her from going down. He doesn’t touch her otherwise and Caroline finds she’s a little disappointed.

Kol’s last remark has quadrupled the questions she has.

Maybe it’s only practical to share a room.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #not as space-y as I intended???#ooops #cupcakemolotov

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tunafishprincess · 6 years ago

Text

Fallen Too Far

Chapter One: Sixteen

(Warning, this story ultimately goes into Mature. Tags will be listed on every chapter. The fic is completed on fanfic.net and AO3.)

Next.

He is sixteen when he notices it.

The changes are gradual. Falling asleep in classes, not doing her homework on time, but those are to be expected when you spend your nights preparing for Gunmar and his army. Even Jim struggles to keep his school life and Trollhunter life separate.

When she begins to forget things, however, he starts to worry.

At first, it is only the small things, like what they had for dinner the night before, or when their next Spanish test is. Later, he starts mixing up which troll is which, or not remembering her best friends’ names.

Every time she uses the Skathe-Hrün she changes, bit by bit. The black veins around her eyes take longer and longer to disappear.

He should have paid more attention.

Jim chalks it up to stress when her personality begins to switch from hot to cold without warning.

Mood swings, Toby says, you know how girls are.

He is a foolish and naïve boy back hen; he still believes he can save everyone.

It is when she murders Bagdwella with the staff and disappears that he should have given up.

He doesn’t.

Toby, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH!!! try to be there for him, try to comfort him. It’s no use. The remaining Trollmarket trolls want vengeance; he just wants his girlfriend back.

Still relying on the hope that he can bring her back, he leaves his friends, believing that it will only take a while before he’s back with Claire, safe and sound. How stupid of him to think so. He followed the same kind of reasoning in the Darklands and look where that led him?

History repeats itself as they say. He doesn’t tell his mom and friends goodbye. It is one of his greatest regrets.

It takes days, weeks to find her, but when he does, he almost doesn’t recognize her.

The black veins around her eyes are now visible and prominent, making her skin look translucent. Her hair is tied up in a tight bun, though a few ringlets have fallen out, framing her gorgeous face. The expression on her face is not a welcome one.

Even as a monster, she is beautiful.

They fight; he tries to talk to her, but she mocks hi, her words as painful as her magic. Again and again he returns to that cave, begging for her to return. It is a dance, almost—he enters her domain, she strikes at him and he avoids. Over and over, until both are left gasping for air.

It is as if his words are to no avail; nothing he says reaches her.

Regardless, Jim never hits her back. Claire is his girlfriend. Hope is still on his side.

This is long before her first followers arrive, before he understands the truth about the girl he loves.

It is only when the possessed Draal comes, knocking her to the ground, that he truly lets go. It all happens so quickly, even she is surprised at the blue troll’s sudden appearance. Seeing her there, blood running down her temple, makes something in him crack. Perhaps it is stress, perhaps it is anger—either way, he unleashes hell on his former friend, the damn that holds back his emotions springing free.

The battle is intense; the longest he’s ever fought thus far.

But he is the Trollhunter. He still hesitates to make the final blow. It is only when his old friend gives him no other option except death that he sinks the blade into the troll’s heart.

It is traumatic. He imagines Kanjigar screaming in anguish in the back of his mind.

Jim wins and loses at the same time. It is the first of many.

Hot, wet tears stream down his face at the end. He vomits next to his friend’s mangled body. Draal didn’t deserve to go out like this. None of his words got to the troll. He was too far gone for Jim to save. These are the words he tells himself.

They don’t stem the guilt however. It hurts like a knife to his heart. Jim has kiled one of his friends. What would Toby, AAARRRGGHH!!! and Blinky think of him now?

He blames Gunmar (but secretly, he blames himself).

Claire calls for him meekly, looking at him with those eyes—the kind of eyes any man would get sucked into. He is at her side in seconds, searching for injuries.

“Oh Jim,” she says, and he cries harder, because it’s her, it’s really her. Brown and clear, like the day he first met her.

Jim strokes her cheek, “Claire.”

And then she’s gone, snuffed out by cold, calculating purple.

“You saved me.” There is wonder in her tone. It is not Claire who is speaking.

“I saved Claire,” he corrects her.

He can almost hear the gears turning in her head, face contemplative.

“Gunmar and I are in a disagreement of sorts,” she says. “He’ll come for me again, with more assassins next time. My children have yet to appear and I—”

“Give me back Claire,” he interrupts.

“You dare—”

“Please,” he begs, voice low. “I-I love her.”

The words slip out on their own accord.

Her eyes widen a fraction, but that is the only reaction he receives at his declaration.

“Then prove it,” she demands, pushing herself up and away, blending back into the darkness from which she came.

And he tries.

It is lonely—almost suffocating really. Days go by before another of Gunmar’s men comes and he is forced to kill that one as well. On the positive side, it doesn’t bother him as much as killing Draal did; it is still unpleasant and distressing to do though. His stomach curdles, however he resists throwing up.

Around this time her people arrive.

He thinks them human until they change in front of her, bent down on one knee and pledging their loyalty in Trollspeak. Changelings. He doesn’t recognize any of them but they certainly know him.

Thankfully, her followers ignore him, too focused on their tasks. It is, in some ways, a relief. He does not want to fight them too. Claire, or the person in Claire’s body—he can never be too sure—merely watches him. An improvement from before, he tells himself.

Boredom grips him during the day, so he trains in the woodlands nearby, never leaving for more than a few hours’ time to find food and drink to sustain himself.

Once, he leaves his phone in his backpack near the river to bath. Both are gone when he returns. He searches for them for days, weeks even. How else is he going to contact his friends and family?

In the end, he gives up on ever finding either again. It doesn’t matter, he reasons. Once Claire is returned to her former self they can go home.

Speaking of, his girlfriend barely spares him a moment’s time to talk and usually it is only in response to his questions; it agonizes him.

Jim misses home, his mom, his best friend. He misses AAARRRGGHH!!!’s gentle smiles and Blinky’s lectures. He contemplates giving up, to return home, but his desire to save her always wins out. It is in his nature to never give up on his loved ones.

It is his greatest strength.

And later, his worst weakness.

The attacks increase in force and ferocity. He grows stronger, striking down her enemies with a flash of his blade. With every death it becomes less difficult. They were Gunmar’s men, he tells himself, bad trolls he would ultimately have to kill anyways. It is much easier to deal with the devil you know than the devil you don’t. He believes that with each swing of his sword he comes closer and closer to freeing his girlfriend.

He has always been good at daydreaming.

It is when she revives Angor Rot that he loses his patience. How could she? It is when he begins to doubt.

The night is dark and foggy when he starts off for the journey home. She must have noticed his silence at the resurrection, because he runs into her in the forest.

She is ethereal, the glow of her eyes and staff matched only by the shine by his amulet.

“Jim, where are you going?”

“Don’t you dare,” he says coldly, avoiding her gaze. “You brought him back, after all we’ve done? Angor Rot tried to kill me. He tried to kill my mom. Hell, he tried to kill all of us! And for what? Is Claire even in there anymore?”

Fingers weave through his hair; he startles at the sensation. It had been forever since someone touched him.

“I feel so lost, so confused,” she whispers in his ear. He shudders at how close she is. “So many memories. I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”

“You’re Claire,” he insists, “You’re my girlfriend. You like Papa Skull and guacamole. A-and you have a light brother, and a mom and dad. Your best friends are—”

Her lips silence him. It is soft and hesitant, as if she would break at even the slightest of touches.

Jim melts into the kiss. It has been so long since she has last kissed him. His arms encircle her waist. Warmth fills his being. He has forgotten how nice hugs are.

“Only you. You are the only one I can’t kill,” she admits. “I have sent dozens of Trollhunters to their deaths and yet, when when I look at you, I cannot bring myself to even consider the notion. Why is that I wonder? Have Claire and I become so intertwined that her feelings now influence mine?”

“You...” His eyes search hers. “Who are you exactly?”

She tilts her heads to the side, lips pulled into a secretive smile. Her fingertips travel down to his face. “I’m known by many names.”

A chill runs down his spine. The air becomes thick with what he will later associate as her magic. As of now, it reminds him of burning wood and incense.

“Then what would you like me to call you?” He asks.

The purple of her eyes lightens.

“Morgana,” she says after a long moment.

“And who are you, Morgana?”

“I’m many things,” she says wistfully.

Answers, he later learns, are never easy with Morgana.

He goes in a different direction. “Where’s Claire? What have you done with her?”

Not-Claire drums her fingers across his shoulder, staring directly into his eyes. “Your girlfriend and I are one now.”

“Is there any way you can just separate from her?” He asks. “I’ll do anything.”

“It would kill both of us.”

He wants to cry. His eyes even begin to water. A black-nailed finger catches one of his stray tears. She brings it to her mouth and laps at it like a feline. Disgust blossoms in his stomach but he suppresses it. It is another stark reminder that Morgana is not Claire.

She sighs, switching her gaze to the sky. “I simply want to protect my people. I didn’t mean to take over your girlfriend. It was an accident.”

He laughs darkly, “An accident or a convenience?”

“Do you hate me?” Morgana says, voice wavering slightly. Her hands tighten on his shoulders.

“I,” he swallows, looking away, “I don’t know.”

He wants to, but every time he looks at her he sees Claire. Her eyes, her nose, her smile—it’s all there.

“She loves you.”

The lingering hope in his chest swells.

“She does?”

“Yes, so much. I can hear her, even now.” She says, and he believes her, because what else could he do?

“Tell her…tell her I love her too. That I’ll never betray her. I’m hers, forever and always.” And he means it.

“Then you’ll stay?” She asks, and its Claire’s voice, and he’s the happiest he’s been in weeks. “Here with me?”

“Where else would Romeo be than with his Juliet?” He jokes. Later on, he would curse how easily he falls, how gullible he is. He still thinks he could do it alone.

She emits a small laugh, light and dainty. “Thank you, my Trollhunter.”

And then he is hers.

#Trollhunters #fallen too far #jlaire #dark jlaire #fanfic #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #clairegana #Dark!Claire #dark!jim #Dark Fic

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