#maybe he left something somewhere that gave a little insight on that before he died | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tiifalockhart · 4 years

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Confessions

Anonymous asked: Hi! I was wondering if I could request something for ffxv? I was hoping something where one of Noct’s long time closest friends joins the gang on the road, and they end up getting with Prompto which causes Noct to realize he’s had feelings for them the whole time and gets jealous. I hope that’s not too weird or specific! Thank you!

Pairing: Noctis x Reader/Prompto x Reader

Warnings: alludes to anxiety, jealous, mentions suffocation (as a description of anxiety, don’t worry, no one dies)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: hello!! I’m back with another FFXV request. this is actually the longest thing I’ve written on this blog so far. I really liked this request and was actually planning on doing something similar to it before, I hope you enjoy it anon!

Part Two || Ao3 || Masterlist

Meeting the Prince of Insomnia was purely coincidental.

It wasn’t in school, it wasn’t in the Citadel, and it wasn’t even through one of Noctis’ other friends. You happened to run into him in the street after exiting one of the small markets located in the city. As you left the market, you couldn’t even walk three full steps before feeling someone bump into you and knock the bag out of your hand. You didn’t complain out loud, but a tired and disappointed sigh left your lips. You stared down at the fallen fruit and ripped bag, glaring at it in hopes that it would clean itself up, until you heard a quiet “Sorry” from your left.

You slowly turned to look at the perpetrator, your glare piercing into his soul until you realized who he was. A shocked look formed in your features as you took a step back. “Y-You’re-”

“-The Prince, I know.” He sighed as if he never gets to hear the end about it. He looked down at the ruined bag and frowned, before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered, bending down to pick it up.

You stared at him in amazement, before quickly leaning down to help him. “I should be the one who’s apologizing, I wasn’t paying attention.” You responded hurriedly, feeling yourself become flustered with the predicament you found yourself in. A soft chuckle left his lips as he shook his head.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He insisted, which surprised you more. “Let’s face it, I wasn’t paying attention and I ruined your food, right? It’s fine.” Noctis shrugged, guiding you back inside the shop. You expressed your gratitude to him over and over again until the two of you parted.

After that strange encounter, the two of you began to see each other more often. It seemed to be more coincidental than deliberate, which both of you found odd. Every single time you saw each other, you’d let out an awkward laugh and greet each other, but it usually never went on further than that.

That is, until your most recent bump-in. The two of you ended up running into each other during class, the two of you obviously trying to do something else other than study. When Noctis’ eyes fell on you, he let out a sigh and slowly shook his head. “I feel like every time I see you, I’m seeing an old friend.” He greeted, which pulled you out of your daze of boredom.

“Oh... Hey Prince Noctis, I never thought we’d see each other so often after we first met.” You replied, snickering. “I didn’t know you attended school here.” You pointed out, raising a brow.

Noctis nodded lightly as a small smile tugged on his lips. “I feel like fate is telling us to become friends or something like that.” He shrugged, walking alongside you. “Wanna get lunch together after classes?”

You looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise. “Oh... Me?” You asked, knowing it was a dumb question. “I suppose so... I’m not too busy with my studies at the moment.”

“Nice. We’ll meet in front of the school then.” He decided, glancing over at you. “I should probably get to class before I get caught skipping.” He muttered, a tired sigh leaving his lips. The two of you said your goodbyes and parted after that, planning to meet up after school. It was such an odd relationship... Neither of you actually considered being friends until now.

After that day, the two of you spend almost every day together. You grew rather close over the years. Noctis seemed to enjoy having somewhere to go that wasn’t strictly royalty... It was a well needed break usually. Noctis often invited you to royal events as well, usually claiming that he was forced to go and he needed a partner to come. For the most part, you knew that he was just taking this chance to find a way out of the event early, but it was still fun. You got to know his father pretty well, which was surreal. The same question crossed your mind often: how the hell were you able to easily become friends with both the Prince, and the King?

Years had passed since then. Noctis made a few more friends and prepared for his trip to get married off during this time, while you were busy helping your family and working. It wasn’t until a few days before when Noctis was scheduled to leave, he ran into you while you were on your way to work.

A laugh left his lips as you were jolted from your tired state, his sudden presence surprising you. “Man, feels like old times, doesn’t it?” He joked, grinning at you.

A scoff left your lips as you returned the grin. “Something like that. What are you doing here?” You asked, raising a brow at him. He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I came to get you out of work... And to ask you a favor.” Noctis explained, crossing his arms as he continued to walk, gesturing for you to follow. As the two of you walked, Noctis began to talk. “The thing is... I’m going away for who knows how long. It’s great and all, but I don’t know if I want to leave you behind, you know?” He spoke, his brows furrowing. “I wanted to invite you along, I still have room for one more person to come along, so...” His voice trailed as he avoided your gaze.

You raised a brow in confusion. “Wait... You’re asking me to come to your wedding?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“Something like that. Come with me and my friends, we’re leaving tomorrow morning to go to Altissia. You’re my best friend, I think it’s only fair for both of us if you’re there.” He continued, shrugging. His gaze fell to you as the two of you stopped walking, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“Well... I’d be honored, are you sure your friends or your fiancée won’t mind?” You questioned, a hesitant look forming on your features. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t worry about them! Trust me, they’d be happy to be there too. You can meet some of them if you want.” Noctis offered, placing a hand on his hip.

Realistically, who were you to say no? The Prince was asking you specifically, friend or not, you were in no place to deny him. The only reason why you would be hesitant was because you were afraid you wouldn’t really... Fit in. Noctis more than likely picked people that were involved in the royalty family, people he’s known his entire life that was also royalty, even his to-be-wife was royalty. You were just a simple citizen in all of Insomnia that somehow ran into Noctis more than once for it to be considered more than coincidental. Maybe you were overthinking it, but what if they didn’t like you because you weren’t like them?

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. “Then... I’ll go.” You responded hesitantly. You bit your lip nervously as you continued to think, before speaking again. “But I would like to meet the others before we go so I don’t make things weird or awkward.”

Noctis grinned and nodded. “Sounds good. You can come over to my place and meet Ignis soon.” He mentioned, beginning to guide you there before you could even argue.

Fortunately, you got to meet Ignis and become well acquainted with him, and momentarily met Gladio before the next morning. The only one that you knew almost nothing about was Prompto. The three of them mentioned him occasionally, but they never gave a lot of insight into him.

You weren’t quite sure what to expect as the five of you gathered that morning. You didn’t know what he looked like, how he acted, nor how he even sounded. It was a gamble, and you were a little nervous. Noctis mentioned something about him being a lot like you, which made you feel a little better, at least you weren’t going to be the only commoner among royalty.

When you first saw him, you were slightly taken aback. He was... Cute. His freckled skin, his messy blond hair, the odd but stylish outfit he wore, it clashed together in a surprisingly adorable way. Not to mention he was so awkward around you, it was heart warming.

Throughout the beginning of the trip, through all the troubles you faced, you felt yourself become closer with Prompto. He made you laugh and blush a lot, and often tried to lift the mood no matter how hard things got. It was a relief to have someone like him around, him and Noctis together balanced the seriousness of the rest of the group. He was also talented when it came to machinery and guns... You admired him, since you were rather inexperienced yourself.

Noctis noticed how the two of you became closer. You constantly joked around and teased other members of the team together, as well as practicing fighting together. He felt something burning in his chest at the sight, but refused to admit it was jealousy. No... Why would Noctis be jealous of his two best friends getting along? That’s crazy, he was happy for you both.

...Until he wasn’t happy anymore. Your jokes and teasing ended up turning into flirtatious remarks. Your touches lingered on each other. Whenever you both made a joke, your eyes would go to each other to see if you were laughing... Suddenly, the two of you were infatuated with each other and Noctis definitely didn’t appreciate it.

It showed in his mood and attitude, too. He wasn’t particularly happy that the two of you were getting along so well, the burning sensation in his chest would flare whenever the two of you were close. He was much grumpier and dreaded each day more and more. Noctis couldn’t really understand why he felt this way either... It didn’t make sense to him, they both were his friends, he should be happy that the two of you are getting along, right?

That is, until he finally realized why. Noctis finally managed to find you alone. No Prompto, no giggling or scheming, just you, by yourself. A soft sigh of relief left his lips as he approached you from behind. You seemed to be sitting on the edge of a cliff, your legs dangling as you admired the view. “Are you feeling okay? It’s not every day you find someone hanging off a cliff.” He remarked smoothly as he approached.

His voice caused you to flinch, snapping you out of your dazed state. “Oh... Yeah, I’m alright. Just thinking, that’s all.” You replied, patting the spot on the ground next to you. Noctis hesitantly took a seat next to you, the two of you basking in the nature-esque silence. His eyes slowly examined the sight in front of him, it was easy to see the Disc almost clearly, as well as the distant mountains where Lestallum resided. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You pointed out, smiling as you swung your legs over the edge.

Noctis’ gaze turned to you slowly after taking in the entire sight. That’s when it hit him. The way your skin absorbed the sunlight, the way your hair reflected it and shined. The way the wind blew a gentle breeze, causing your eyes to shut as you inhaled the fresh air. You looked so... Ethereal, peaceful, like this is what you’ve wanted your whole life. It was breath-taking. You were breath-taking.

A shaky breath left his lips as he searched for an answer, desperately trying to remember what the two of you were talking about. “Y-Yeah...” He responded, his brows furrowing in confusion as you turned to looked at him. A blush formed on your cheeks, as you quickly looked away.

“You know, I’m really glad I could come along. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to fit in or anything like that... But your friends are so nice.” You murmured softly, changing the subject. Noctis nodded hesitantly and turned back to the scenery, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“Right... It’s a good thing you guys are getting along. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He lied, trying to go along with the conversation. Eventually, the two of you fell into a somewhat awkward silence. There were things left unsaid, you both were aware of it, but no one wanted to take the risk and talk about it, so you left it alone.

Eventually, your time in silence was interrupted by a certain blond. He came trotting up the hill and grinned once he saw the both of you. “Mornin’.” He greeted, taking a seat on the other side of you. Noctis went deafeningly silent, the burning sensation growing in his chest again.

You, on the other hand, returned the bright smile that Prompto wore. “Good morning.” You chirped, bumping your shoulder with his. Why didn’t you greet Noctis like that? Confusion formed on his features. Had he been replaced? As you and Prompto started a conversation, Noctis could feel himself being swallowed up by this... Selfish desire. Why hadn’t he realized sooner that he liked you? Why didn’t you ever notice? Surely he didn’t hide it that well. No... He couldn’t blame you. What if you had liked him this entire time and he had no clue? Maybe you moved onto someone who was more like you... But-

His thoughts were cut off when you gently nudged him with your shoulder. “You okay, man?” Prompto asked, the both of you wearing similar looks of concern. Noctis raised a brow in concern.

“You looked upset... And we were talking to you, also.” You pointed out, gently rubbing his back. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked. Noctis slowly shook his head and turned away from the two of you, standing and frowning.

“No... It’s alright, I’m still exhausted from yesterday.” He explained, shoving his hands in his pockets and beginning to head off. You and Prompto shared the same look of concern and confusion, the two of you hopping up to follow him immediately.

“Hey, Noct... You know you can talk to us, right? We’re your best friends, man! No judging here.” Prompto tried to lighten the mood, but Noctis simply brushed him off.

“It’s alright, we have to head out soon, yeah?” Noctis pointed out, running his fingers through his hair. Slowly, he lowered his head and looked anywhere else but the two of you. “I’ll see you back at camp.” He muttered, leaving you both behind.

A quiet sigh left your lips as you looked up at Prompto, tilting your head to the side when you noticed he was deep in thought. “What’s on your mind?” You asked softly, realizing his lips were turned downwards.

Prompto shrugged and crossed his arms. “The last time I saw Noctis this bad was when he was jealous over something.” He began, almost seeming to be thinking out loud. “If that’s what’s wrong this time... What’s he jealous over now?” He asked out loud, glancing over at you and searching for an answer.

“...Could it be because we’re so close now?” You asked, shrugging. “I mean, maybe he feels left out? I dunno.” You explained, kicking the rocks on the ground as the two of you wandered back to camp.

“I mean, I guess? But that still seems like... Out of character, I guess.” He explained, frowning. “I dunno. We’ll just have to bully it outta him.” Prompto joked, smirking as you giggled mischievously.

The conversation wasn’t brought up again later, when the group decided to stay at an inn again. While Ignis, Prompto and Gladio figured out sleeping arrangements, you slowly strolled up next to Noctis, gently nudging him with your elbows. “Hey, what’s up? You’re not seeming like yourself lately.” You murmured, looking up at him curiously.

He raised a brow and looked over at you, before wincing and shaking his head. “I... It’s nothing.” He sighed, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it?” Noctis muttered, the same grumpy tone coming back.

“Come on... We can talk about it somewhere else if you want. I think I saw a haven not far from here, it had a pretty cool view.” You explained, trying to convince him to come along. Noctis sighed, knowing very well that he couldn’t say no to you.

The two of you snuck off together, eventually arriving at the nearby haven. You took a seat near the edge and looked off to the forested area below the haven, waiting for Noctis to finally catch up and sit next to you. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before you finally looked over at him. “So...” You started, trying to break the awkward silence between the two of you. “How have you been?” You asked, knowing it was a terrible question to ask.

He let out a sigh as he stared off at the sky. His mind was trying to work out how he would explain what happened. How exactly was he supposed to admit that he had a huge crush on you that managed to evolve into some weird jealousy hate thing for Prompto, his other best friend? He winced as you looked at him expectantly, forcing out a simple answer. “Uh... I’ve been, uh, pretty okay. How about you?” He asked, mentally face-palming.

You nodded hesitantly. Well, that was better than nothing. You decided to not press on further, silently hoping that he would start the conversation. The air around the two of you was so tense... You felt like you were going to suffocate soon.

Noctis didn’t show it, but he felt the same way. Occasionally, he’d open his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. He started to grow frustrated. He couldn’t remember the last time he had trouble with this... Why now, of all times? Finally, he groaned and glared down at the ground. “You wanna know why I’m upset?” He started, causing you to turn and look over at him with a confused expression. “Because out of everyone I could end up jealous over, it had to be my best friend. Why, you’re probably asking? Well, it’s because of my other best friend.” He muttered stubbornly.

You stared at him, a confused look forming as he continued to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following.” You admitted awkwardly.

“It’s...” He sighed, pushing his pride out of the way. “It’s because of you and Prompto, dammit.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t want to admit it, but the way you two are together... You guys are better friends than you two and I ever were. And I know how Prompto gets... He sees someone and suddenly, he’s like, in love! And I don’t want him to be in love with you. It’s selfish, but I don’t. Out of all the women that he meets, why did he have to go and fall in love with the same person I fell in love with?” He ranted, shaking his head.

You could feel a blush creeping up on your skin the more he spoke, causing you to hide your face by looking away. “You... You l-like me?” You stammered out of shock, as if you were still processing it all. “Wait, you’re jealous of Prompto? I thought you were jealous of me... I’m still confused.” You confessed with a sigh.

“I like you, alright? Prompto was going to steal you away from me, and I couldn’t stop myself from getting jealous.” He admitted fully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin things between us, or between you and Prompto. I think I said too much...” He groaned, shaking his head.

While you were still processing his entire confession, Noctis ended up standing, preparing to head back. “...We should go.” He muttered, trying to pull you out of your confused daze. You glanced back at him, hesitantly nodding as you stood again.

“Y...Yeah...” You responded, gathering yourself and following along with him. For most of the time, you both were in silence. Noctis seemed to be relieved that he finally got all of that out, and actually felt better now. Meanwhile, you were still comprehending everything that just happened in the last twenty minutes. Noctis liked you? Like, like-liked you? You? Just a commoner? Still highly confused, you felt yourself beginning to piece everything together since you first met. His gazes, he never really looked at you like a friend. He spent so much time with you after you first met, he took you almost everywhere. But he was getting married soon, wasn’t he? How could the two of you have a relationship like this...?

“...Noctis.” You whispered hesitantly, looking up at him with a slightly troubled expression. “If you do like me... Like, actually... What about your wedding?” You asked softly, your brows furrowing as you looked down at the ground.

He let out a soft sigh as he slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure... I don’t know what to do about anything at the moment.” He confessed, staring up at the sky.

You nodded hesitantly. “Right... I guess that makes sense.” You responded, unsure of how else to respond. The two of you continued to walk in silence. Countless thoughts filled both of your minds, the two of you trying to find a solution for any of this mess, but neither of you came up with anything. Sighing softly, you reached out and took his hand without saying a word.

Noctis raised his brows in surprise as he looked down at your hands, noticing how you seemed to be casual about it. A smile tugged at his lips as he allowed his fingers to wrap around yours, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. He could worry about everything later, right? This is what he needed now... He needed you.

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artxyra · 4 years

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Her Little Robins

Note: So This was supposed to be a longer (damn near 8000 words) one-shot, but after much thought, I decided to break up the mini-stories that I had placed at the end and decided to upload them separately.

There is one person that Damian would even dare look up to and he hasn’t seen her since before his mother brought him overseas to his father. She was the closest thing he had gotten to a mother figure despite being the opposite. Within the League of Assassins, she was on par with his own mother, but she was just as untouchable. She barely had any free time, between taking on League missions and living her life in the outside world. No one knows how she even became involved with the League but there was one thing he knew for sure. It wasn’t long after his conception.

For the past year, he has been under the care of his father, the very person he doesn’t belong to. Even after a year, his father still doesn’t understand him. He shows his love differently. He doesn’t belong in this broken household. Damian wasn’t sure how he even managed with all the fighting. Though there is one thing he would never admit—is that he cares. Caring was one of many hidden traits he had picked up from her.

His father doesn’t know how to care for him, but at least he tries to. Which is more than he can say about his mother. She never cared, in fact, the only time she cared was placing him into her arms. The fresh smell of apple blossoms always calming him down. That scent was more home than anything he has ever been to.

The last time he saw her—was the first time he had ever cried. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she tells him her goodbyes. Making promises that he knows would never be kept. She was leaving to save both of them—to save him. Damian could never admit it to himself, but the night she left was the night his grandfather had declared that Damian was of age to determine his loyalty. A trial that would surely end in his or her death.

He hated going to sleep that night. The cold welcoming his return. There was no apple blossom scent laying beside him. No hand caressing his hair as he fell asleep. No French lullaby that was specifically made for him being sung. Just the harsh winds.

“Be brave my petit oiseau. Luck will always guide you in your journey.” She whispers to him every night as he loses consciousness. Those words would forever stick with him. Just like his father’s statement “Justice not vengeance” would. Though he would prefer the one from her over any others.

It’s been three years since then.

Today he wasn’t sure what to do, the anniversary of her disappearance was approaching, and his father’s family still didn’t understand why he is crankier—or what they would say brattier—during this time. He just wants to be alone.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” It was the way she always greeted him when he was little, and they were alone. Damian’s little legs would wrap around her own as she bends down to scoop him into her arms. When he was younger, he felt freer being around her. Her laughter was contagious. She would extend her pointer finger against his nose and giggles before blowing raspberries into his cheek which then caused him to laugh.

Instinctively, Damian curls into himself. He misses those feelings. Feelings that he’ll never get from his family at this rate.

So deep in his memories, Damian doesn’t remember entering the library, picking up a book, and finding comfort in the couch. He looks at the book that was opened in front of him. It was written in French. He has been in this room plenty of times and has skimmed every book at least once, so why does this book seem like a distance memory? The title was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Behind him, he hears a gasp, “Little D, do you have any idea what that is?” Great, it was Grayson, the fourth person he didn’t want to see this evening.

“A book.” The youngest Wayne deadpans placing the book down on the couch and getting up to take his leave.

Before he could walk out of the door, he heard Grayson shout something, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to listen.

As he walks back to his room, that French book stayed on his mind. The cover’s art style was unique, and it reminded him of her. She would draw him small artwork pieces and sometimes let him join her in the process, in fact, he still has the majority of the drawings that she and he made locked in a box underneath his bed. Then there was the book’s dedication page: “À tous mes petits oiseaux qui ont besoin de chance dans leurs moments les plus sombres.” That he could easily translate to: “To all my little birds who need luck in their darkest moments.” He needs to know more. Maybe that book holds the missing piece in finding her? He wants her back in his life, now more than ever.

However, that doesn’t explain how his father owns such a book. Let alone the reaction he had gotten out of Grayson just by holding the book.

~*~

“Hold on, you’re telling me that the demon reincarnated found Pixie’s book?” He heard Todd asks when he was on his way to the library. It was clear that Grayson had grabbed the book once he had left and gathered the rest of his non-blood-related siblings.

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you. When I had entered the room to tell him that we are expecting a guest soon—which I couldn’t—he appeared to be in deep thought staring at the book. Like that isn’t usual at all.” Grayson explains and out of everything his older brother said, the word guest caught his attention. It was rare when his father invited people to the manor that has nothing to do with charity, galas, or potential business agreements. A guest usually signifies a Justice League member or a new sibling (something that he knows doesn’t need to happen).

“Isn’t this usually the time when the demon gets all moody?” When did Drake even pay attention to him? Of course, he is always moody, and he has good reasons for that.

“You actually pay attention to the little shit, Replacement? This is laughable, you’re usually the last one to notice anything.” Todd laughs to which Damian had the itching need to grab his katana and slice Jason in half. Though he had to agree, it was laughable as it was Drake who noticed it despite being in a coffee-induced haze for most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Drake then pauses, probably to take a sip of coffee that will forever be in his hands. “That doesn’t explain how he would find Bean’s book interesting. Only those of us that have met her would find that book interesting as it’s—”

“We know!” Together Grayson and Todd scream.

“Look guys we can either keep hovering over the fact that Damian found her book or let it play out and see where it goes, just like Bruce and Alfred did for us.” Drake sounded tired which wasn’t usual but more tired than normal at this time of day.

“As much as I hate it, I agree with Replacement for this,” Todd responds without a doubt looking at Grayson when he said it.

Damian could hear Grayson sigh of defeat. The room goes silent just enough for Damian to make his presence known.

“What’s so important about the book?” He asks stepping across the threshold and eyeing the book that is in Grayson’s hand.

At once his brothers try to answer but one look at Damian’s face; they knew they could lie themselves out of it. So, they opted for the oldest to speak.

“Look, Little D, this book means a lot to the family. The fact that you picked up just gave an insight into something we didn’t think you would have.” Grayson starts to which Damian tsks and looks away. He hated having this much attention on him, and the short explanation still didn’t answer his question.

“Then what makes this book so important to the family, that I had no idea of its existence until today?” Damian growls through his teeth. His brothers only look between one another which only made Damian even more agitated. “You know what, never mind.”

“Damian—” Dick is cut off by the door slamming in his face. He could only sigh in defeat as the figure of his younger brother disappears.

“So, what now?” Tim asks before taking another sip of his coffee. It was clear that his older brothers don’t know what to do.

Jason decides that now is the best time to take the book from Dick and throws himself onto the couch. He begins to read the book as if it was his only source of peace.

~*~

For Jason, the book was the only close connection he had to her. She was the mother he always dreamed of, and he hated it when she would leave for long periods of time. He hated not taking her offer to live with her. Months before his death, she had asked him to live with her, be the caretaker of her apartment back in France, but he had declined. Being Robin was all he ever wanted, and she knew that, but he also knows that something spooked her. She never did ask that again after the first time, and it kind of saddens Jason a bit.

The night before his death, she had called him asking for him to stay safe. To not get cocky about anything while being away. Stay in contact with Bruce, in fact, she specifically told him not to leave Bruce’s side. He should have listened to her warnings that night. Just maybe he wouldn’t have died by the hands of the Joker.

When he was revived with the Lazarus Pit, one of the first things he acknowledged was the words “Qu'est-ce qui vous est arrivé mon petit Jaybird?” What happened to him? He didn’t know what was happening. He was feeling so many negative emotions at once that he couldn’t differentiate anything. The last thing he remembered from that encounter was a pair of lips pressing against his forehead. The next thing he knew, he was lost somewhere he didn’t know but he somehow knew he had to find himself.

When he came back to Gotham under the impression that Bruce and everyone around him needed to go, it wasn’t Bruce that stopped him. No, it was her. She appeared between them with tears streaming down from her mask. He couldn’t harm her, not after everything she had done for him. It felt so wrong to have his fingers itching to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t let it go. Bruce needed to pay for giving up on, for replacing him.

They didn’t even exchange words, her tears were enough. She walked over to him, taking the gun away from him and gently placing it on the ground. He felt so alone as she pulled him into her arms whispering the French lullaby, she sang to him when he was down.

Jason doesn’t remember what happened next after that, but what he does know was that he had woken up in the manor and Bruce and sitting in an armchair beside his bed. They didn’t speak to one another—why it was because they didn’t know what to start with. Hellos? No, they already knew each other. I’m sorry? Not even an option, they’re too stubborn to admit anything. It was just a moment of silence. Not for the dead but for all the pain that they were enduring.

As he read the familiar words, Jason wonders how his life would have been having she not been a part of his life. She always knew what to say and when to say it. Never judging them for wanting to be heroes vigilantes. She was the glue that kept this family together aside from Alfred, and they all miss her.

“Hey Jaybird,” Of course it was Dick who had to return and ruin the moment.

“What do you want? Can’t you see that I’m reading?” Jason doesn’t take his eyes away from the book, it’s not like he could have anyway. Her words always had a way of entrapping the reader until the very end.

“Bruce wants everyone in the living room.” Dick answers pointing to the open door that was close just minutes ago. Jason huffs and places the book back on the shelf.

“Alright, let see what B has in store for us.” Jason walks past Dick and into the halls. Dick just stares back at the location Jason had placed the book. He was tempted to go grab it, but he knows, keeping Bruce waiting sounds like a bad idea especially since he asked for the family.

~*~

In the living room, Damian sat moodily in the armchair. Arms folded and all. He would look up to glare at his family members still thinking that they were all beneath him in taking the Wayne name.

“So, tell us, Bruce, what is the real reason you have us all gather here?” Jason observed the way the room was structured. Alfred was standing next to Bruce like usual while everyone else just sits and waits for the other shoe to drop.

“It has come to my attention that Damian found M’s book.” Bruce turns to his youngest, who was clearly lost in thought. Something he never thought would happen to Damian. Then again this isn’t the first time it has happened. “Damian, have you ever meet a person under the name of Marin Etta? Marin? Mari?” With each name, Damian shakes his head.

For Damian, the names were foreign. She was always Tatie to him as she never really spoke of her real name. It was mention once, but it has been so long that he had forgotten. In fact, tatie was the first word she taught him in French before moving onto the basics.

“No father,” Damian denies and leans back into his seat. Bruce sighs.

“Little D, you must have met her.” Dick states pointing fingers.

“Before this becomes a brawl, I would like to announce that she’ll be sending gifts to the manor,” Alfred states causing the boys, aside from Damian, eyes to bug out. Tim had to rub his eyes to make sure that he was awake.

~*~

For Tim, she was more than someone he looks up to. She was a person that he could rely on and rant to. When he first arrived at the manor, yes, he was excited, but at the same time frightened beyond disbelief. She picked up on this and offer to take him to her favorite little coffee shop. To this day, Tim swears she owns the little cozy coffee shop that they always go to when they needed a break. Those visits were always just the two of them and no one else.

Tim remembers when he took up the Robin mantle, she was furious at Bruce and even yelled at him for bringing into the battle when he was just a child. He is sure that when the Joker first captured him it was her that found him and took out the Joker, not Bruce. The only proof that he had from that encounter was Bruce looking like he was chewed out by his mother once he had recovered.

She was more than just a team member—she was family. The person that introduced him to the secret of making the right coffee. Something that everyone around him would look down upon. To Tim, coffee was more than his life source; it was a reminder of everything she ever did for him. It was one of the few connections he had to her and he doesn’t want to lose that.

So just being told that she is sending them gifts was such a surprise. She never just sends random gifts; her gifts were always well thought out. Planned for the person receiving the item. Tim had once received a coffee recipe book, something that he vows never to use unless she is with him. He couldn’t risk is family taking away another source of coffee for him.

Sure, they could go visit her whenever, but she never sticks around in one place. Tim remembers the time he tried to track her down and he came up with dead ends after dead ends. Not even Bruce could find her and he’s the world’s greatest detective.

~*~

“When do they arrive?” Dick had practically shouted earning Tim’s attention, something that is usually locked on coffee and or paperwork.

Alfred raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. Tim knows the family butler already knows the answer. It most likely that the gifts had already arrived, and he just wants to see them suffer over it.

“Master Damian please come with me.” Alfred requested to which everyone eyes the youngest Wayne. Damian was unsure what Pennyworth wanted with him and the fact that it was him and not his father, he was feeling anxious.

“Of course,” Damian answers getting out of his seat.

Dick watches the baby bird walk away from the family. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this encounter. Alfred rarely asks for them individually. Though he was heavily thinking about the presents his big sister figure may have brought him.

“Don’t even think about it, Dick.” Bruce grunts seeing the devious look in his oldest eyes. Dick blanches and turns around; he had some searching hacking to do. Knowing that Alfred would have hidden the items somewhere within the manor, he knew just where to start his journey. Years of being a part of the Wayne household has its perks, especially being trained by her to find all the hidden spots.

She was only a couple of years older than him. It never made sense to call her his aunt when they were so close in age. She was also the first person that Dick confided in after his parents’ deaths. She was with Bruce when he went that show, and she was first to comfort him even before the cops could take his statement. To traumatize by what he just saw, he didn’t comprehend the lullaby she was singing in French to soothe him.

Dick would never forget how she took it a part of herself to make sure that the manor felt like a home. Bruce was gone every night tracking down Zucco. She made sure he didn’t feel alone, uncared for. If it wasn’t for her, Dick doesn’t know what would have happened to him.

“Les étoiles sont brillantes ce soir, Dickie.” The stars are bright tonight, she had once said to him the night he was thinking about running away. He had everything packed and all he needed to do was open that window and jump out. Her voice caught him by surprise, so much that he had almost forgotten what he wanted to do.

In the end, he cried his heart out to her and she let him do it. He doesn’t remember what happened next, but the next day Bruce actually showed up for breakfast and sat down with them. It wasn’t long after that that he would become Robin.

~*~

Damian didn’t know why Alfred was leading him outside the manor. It’s not like he had forgotten to take care of Alfred the cat and Titus. Alfred stops short of the gazebo that is rarely in use unless someone plans on making a romantic dinner date of some kind. Damian was about to ask Alfred why they are here when a familiar feminine voice speaks. This voice was etched into his brain and before he knew it his arms were wrapped around a person’s torso.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” He didn’t want to look up, too afraid for this to be a dream. Damian didn’t care if his cheeks were becoming wet, he just wanted to hold her tight. Never letting go. “Petit oiseau, oh how you have grown.” She speaks again, her hands caressing his hair to which he doesn’t complain.

“Tatie, tu me manques tellement.” Damian cries out hiding his face into her shirt. Moments later, he looks up to be greeted by the bluebell eyes that he loved so much. He never realized how much her eye color reminds him so much of Bruce’s. Though her eye color holds so much love and emotions, more than what he can say for Bruce’s.

“Petit oiseau, I am here now. How are you? Have you been treating your father well? Oh, Dami, I knew I should have taken you with me.” She says as she walks them over to the bench and sits down. She could see that Alfred was standing off to the side smiling at the duo.

Alfred then mouths, “I’ll leave you two be” to her, to which she nods and turns her attention back to Damian.

~*~

Returning the manor, Alfred was greeted by an excited Dick and Jason. He knew what they wanted; they wanted the gifts, but the gift is currently outside hugging her surrogate son.

“Master Richard and Master Jason, is there something you need?” He asks with an eyebrow raised. Alfred was known for a lot of things—he is required too in order to keep the manor afloat.

“Hey, Alfred, where is Little D, and how soon we will be receiving those gifts?” Dick asks as he and Jason share a forced smile. Alfred wasn’t buying it.

“Moments after the young master is done receiving his own.” With that, Alfred walks off with a smirk plastered on his lips.

All the Wayne men in the room look at one another.

“Hold on, did he just say that the Demon Spawn, is receiving his gift right now…what the flying fuck did he get?” Jason screams out and he would have stalk after Alfred if it wasn’t for Bruce’s glare practically telling his son not to do it, so instead, Jason huffs.

“It can’t be anything good if it’s for the demon,” Tim states finally coming alive from his coffee-induce haze. The teen was unsure of what was happening, but he knows it was a tense situation.

“We’ll wait for Damian to come to us.” Bruce says, “If the gift is dangerous, we’ll take matters into our own hands.” That was enough to prevent his sons from going after their younger brother.

~*~

Damian was having the time of his life being close to his tatie. He spoke to her with so much enthusiasm about his pets, mentioning his dreams in opening up an animal shelter, all the pranks he did on his brothers. Damian even showed her pictures of Titus and Alfred the cat was which is something he rarely does; heck, he doesn’t really show pictures of his animals to Jon, his best friend.

“That is wonderful, Damian.” She spoke with such a light laugh.

“Hold on, Tatie, how did you know that I was here?” Realization finally settles as Damian wraps his head around the fact that she knew where he was. They haven’t seen each other in three years and surely, she didn’t find his mother and demanded answers.

She sighs and allows Damian to sit up from his resting position. “Damian, I knew you were Bruce’s child since before you were born. There is a reason why I love that you call me Tatie because I am your aunt. Bruce is my older brother. My real name is Marin Etta Wayne, but most people call me Marinette.” She explains staring into his forest green eyes. Tears swell in her eyes almost like she was afraid to tell him everything.

Damian didn’t know how to react. Happy? Furious? Confused? He was so conflicted that he was rendered speechless. This person has been in his life since birth, has done more for him than his own parents, was actually his biological aunt.

Instead of reacting out of anger, he wraps his arms around her and mumbles a series of thank you in various languages. Her explanation solidifies the fact that she’ll never leave him.

“Je t'aime, mon petit oiseau.” She whispers to him.

They stay in silence until Alfred makes himself known with a loud cough. Damian had fallen asleep in her arms to which she was happily content with holding him. She looks up and gestures for Alfred to come closer.

“It seems that the young master enjoyed his gift,” Alfred states looking at the sleeping eleven-year-old. Marinette moves to scoop Damian into her arms. He was a lot heavier than when he was six. After getting into a comfortable position, she turns to Alfred.

“Has Brucie done this for him, before?” She asks as they begin to walk back to the manor.

“On occasion, usually when he is late coming in as Robin. Though it is nice to have you around again, Marin Etta, your presence always begin joy to the family.” Alfred answers, “Are you staying for the night?”

“Not tonight, Alfie. I’m sure the boys will go crazy over Damian’s gift until they see what it actually is. I’ll give them a shock tomorrow and stay for the rest of the week. Vic is helping Helena with some things, so I got time to spare for once.” She replies explaining her reasoning.

Alfred simply raises an eyebrow, he knows she’s withholding information from him, but he also knows that she will do anything to keep her problems under wraps. That’s the reason why she never told Bruce she was Ladybug until after the defeat of Hawkmoth and the creation of her vigilante persona, Kismet.

“In that case, I’ll take the young master and put him to bed. I will see you in the morning.” Marinette hands him Damian who didn’t want to leave her. He managed to tighten his grip around her despite never once waking up. Only after did she whisper promises of seeing him the next day did he release his hold on her and latch onto Alfred.

When Alfred walked inside with the sleeping Damian, he was bombarded by those he considers grandchildren. Jason was beyond in disbelief to see a koala version of the demon that usually glares at them. Tim thought he was hallucinating to the point where he pours the remains of his coffee out the window and walked away sluggishly. Dick was cooing and taking pictures, more than likely saving them for blackmail material. Bruce was wondering what put his youngest to sleep before even going on patrol. He knows that Alfred knows but getting information out of the butler is an impossible task.

“I guess Robin will not be joining us tonight?”

“That is correct, sir. The young master had tired himself out with his gift today. Shall I put him to bed or would like to do that honor?” Alfred answers readjusting the pre-teen in his arms. Bruce nods and takes Damian away from Alfred. It was moments like these that he misses. When his sister was younger, he would hold her and just holding her made him feel complete. Holding Damian was similar in feeling considering his height and weight.

~*~

Dick, Jason, and Tim were jealous of Damian. He had received his gift the day before and here they were sitting at the dining room table waiting for Alfred to show up. Damian had this smug look on his face the second his brothers bombarded him with questions regarding his present. He doesn’t give any indication that it was a person but an animal. That got his brothers to leave him alone for a moment.

Bruce had been the last person to enter the room. He was working on Wayne Enterprise paperwork that should have been completed earlier but wasn’t. Alfred walks in with a tray of food. As he set the plates down, they immediately took notice of an extra plate. Before either of them could question the butler, they heard someone say, “Bonjour mes amours!”

Before anyone could react, Damian runs out of his chair and into her arms. He wraps his arms around her and glares at his family members, daring them to come at her.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” She chuckles returning the hug to the younger male. Damian doesn’t say anything, he just stays in her arms.

While the family stares in shock of seeing Damian showing emotions, it was also the shock at the arrival of the one person that hoped to show up soon.

“Mari!” A series of excited shouts echo through the room. Jason was the next person out of his seat and trying to push Damian away for space. Damian fought back, nearly biting Jason’s hand just so he could stay in his tatie’s arms. Jason glares his younger brother.

“Oh c’mon, there’s enough of me to go around.” She chuckles sending Jason a sheepish smile, “Dami, can you let go so that I could hug Jay-Jay and the others?” She looks down at the young boy, only to feel that his grip had tightened around her. She knows that he would not let go. “Dami, I promise to make you some of my infamous shortbread cookies.” At that request, Damian reluctantly lessens his grip.

“You imbeciles only have one minute with her,” Damian growls turning to his family acknowledging the fact that they also know his tatie. “59, 58, 57…” He starts to count down.

The older Wayne children knew he was serious, and they immediately jump to hug Marinette. Dick was smothering her having taken onto wrapping himself around her torso. She manages to stay afloat by resting Jason and Tim who were side hugging her. It surprised her that it wasn’t Jason who had the running start but wasn’t shock that it was Dick instead.

“10, 9, 8…” They all heard Damian continue. The moment the young Wayne managed to get to zero, he let out a battle cry and begins pushing his brothers out of his way. Damian latches himself onto her and glares at anyone that came within a certain radius of her.

“How the hell does the demon know Pixie, when he literally had no clue who she was yesterday,” Jason shouts as the excitement of seeing Marinette dies down among everyone.

Marinette chuckles and scoops Damian into her arms. If it was anyone else, Damian would have squirmed, complained, and demanded to be let down, but this is his tatie and he has little care for what his brothers think of him right at this moment.

“That’s because all Dami has ever known me to be was Tatie.” She explains as Damian grumbles into her neck.

“Wha!” The boys yell stimulatingly to which Marinette looks everywhere but at her nephews.

“How about this, let's finish eating the wonderful breakfast Alfred made first, then I will explain it all afterward.” She suggests walking over to the table as everyone behind her follows. They know to not disagree with her. She has just as much power as Alfred and could most likely get away with murder.

While they ate breakfast, there was growing tension. Everyone, aside from Alfred, Marinette, and Damian, wanted answers. Bruce watches his sister eat her portion of breakfast; he knows something was going on. Then he saw how quickly his youngest reacted to her like there was some form of bond that they share that he didn’t with his own son. Bruce isn’t that dense; he knows that without her his life would be filled with so much darkness and pain. She made everything tolerable, kept the family together even in their darkest of days.

When breakfast ended, they all gather in the living room. Titus trotted over to his owner and lay beside him.

“So, who’s first?” She asks as she pets Titus’s head as he was close to her and he let her.

“Back to my question before, how the hell do you know the demon?” Jason practically shouts pulling his ear.

“I’ve practically known about since his birth. Actually… even before he was even born. I knew Talia was up to something when she was constantly trying to get into Bruce’s good graces. As we all know, my ability to sense something is wrong is almost never incorrect. So, I followed her to the League of Assassin under a new identity. I was about to leave, but then she announces that she was carrying the league’s heir. I knew the child was going to Bruce’s.” She turns to Damian with a sad smile on her face. To this day, she hated the way Damian came into this world, but she would never give him up for anything.

“You side missions?” Bruce wonders aloud.

“Yes, when I wasn’t with the miraculous court or with the JL, I was with Damian watching after him. I became his caretaker when Talia took it upon herself to be his mentor rather than a mother. Did you know I was the first person to hold him? He had such a small tuft of hair.” Damian blanches when she started to gush about his childhood. He likes to keep that under wraps, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Are you back for real…now?” It was Tim that has asked that.

“Oh, my petit oiseau de café, I’m here to stay. I can’t have you running Gotham without me.” Marinette answers with a wink, but she can tell by the looks of deadpan facials from the males she knew that they didn’t buy it. “I’m staying until the court needs me. That and I’m sure Kismet can bring a little luck to this city of darkness.”

“With that answer…welcome home, Sunshine!” Dick screams with excitement before flinging himself to his sister figure. Marinette catches the taller bird and laughs. However, the embrace didn’t last long as Damian pushes Dick off of her and takes over the filled space.

“Oi, she’s mine, you dolts, get your own.” Damian hiss at his brother who looked beyond offensive.

“Oh, hold on!” They all shouted, “We knew her first, you little demon.” This quickly became a tug-of-war for Marinette, who looks sheepishly between the boys, but she couldn’t help but laugh.

The second, Marinette was able to slip away from his nephews, she made her way over to Bruce. They didn’t say anything, though Bruce did hold his arms out waiting that that hug that they always do. Their embrace was not a short one.

“I miss you, Bruce.” She mumbles into his shirt.

“I miss you too, M.” Bruce pauses placing a kiss onto her forehead. “So, tell me about what happened in Brazil?” Marinette’s eyes widen at that request. She knew she had to come up with something fast, but she also knows that her big brother wouldn’t let that go. Brazil was an authorized JL mission that she joined Question and Huntress on, that didn’t end well per se.

“Oh, look the boys are about to break something.” She squeals turning their attention to the four brothers still wrestling on the floor. Sure enough, a loud crash is heard.

Bruce groans and wanted to yell at his sons for being too rough, but this was a typical morning. The boys would rough house at least three times a day before they all separated. Then again, it really depends on whether Jason and Dick decide to stay at the manor for long periods of time.

“Boys!” Marinette shrieks getting their attention to which they had the audacity to pretend that nothing had happened. They don’t want to play that game with her. There is a reason why she rules the manors better than Bruce.

“Yes, Tatie,” Damian speaks up first resisting the urge to run over to her and hug her in an attempt to make his brothers jealous. Who was he kidding, he would totally do that anyway just for the hell of it.

His brothers glance at him; however, it was clear that Jason was glaring more so than anything.

“What?” Damian shrugs, “She clearly wanted our attention, isn’t that right, tatie?”

Marinette sends Damian a smile that the family knows all too well, that smile was not her usual friendly ones, it was sinister. “Oh, petit oiseau, you have no idea. Now, it still early in the morning, and I don’t want to spend my first day with the family babysitting you four, or do I need to call the girls have girls’ day with them instead?”

The looming threat of having the girls spend time with Marinette instead of them was enough for everyone to nod in agreeance.

“Now who wants to be the first to read my newest family book?” Bruce silently raises his hand which she sees out of the corner of her eye. Digging into her purse she pulls out a new book with an enchanting cover with the title written in French. She then hands it to Bruce despite the cries of protest from her nephews.

“I saw his hand first, actually I saw Alfred’s first, but he already read it. Didn’t you, Alfie?”

“Of course, I did, Miss Marin Etta, it was another novel that will go into the family history.” He smiles at her, to which Marinette sends him a blushful smile.

“Thank you, Alfie. Now, who’s up for a family drawing session?” This time the boys gather around her. Damian hisses at his brothers daring them to come any closer as practical koala himself into Marinette’s arms. Jason stares at the little traitor, planning his downfall.

“I should have introduced Damian to her when he first arrived. That would have saved us so many headaches.” Bruce groans happily acknowledging the sudden change in his youngest at the sight of his sister.

“That would correct, sir. Shall I prepare you some tea and scones while you read Marin Etta’s book?”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” Bruce pauses for a moment to open the book, he is immediately greeted with the dedication page, a smile appears on his face, “Actually Alfred, how about you go spend time with M and the boys after you’re done.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I know you miss her just as much as the rest of us.”

Bruce turns his attention back to the dedication pages that read, “Une famille qui se bat ensemble reste ensemble même quand tout semble perdu.” A family that fights together stays together even when everything seems lost.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #sibling brucinette #auntinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #this started because I wanted yearning batbros and clingy damian #I regret nothing

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

Just One Drink. pt 3.

Part One, Part Two

AN: Two profilers walk into a bar. Characters: Spencer Reid Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, drinking, NSFW content.

(It’s basically just smut. Plot relevant smut but smut nonetheless!)

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

Spencer was roused from his book by a knock on the door that separated your rooms. He frowned, but stood and opened it up.

“Hey, doc,” you greeted with a slightly nervous smile, “you up for a drink?”

Spencer was stunned silent for a moment. You weren’t wearing your traveling clothes anymore, instead you’d slipped into a black dress that toed the line between classy and provocative. It was nothing crazy but, to Spencer, it was like he was twelve again, standing in front of his first real crush with no idea how to handle himself.

“What?” You asked, looking down at yourself, “Too much?”

“No!” He said quickly, “No-you look...you look really nice. I just wasn’t expecting company.”

For a moment you looked almost crestfallen but, before Spencer could be sure, you’d schooled your face back to neutral.

“Sorry, I’m just going crazy in my room. I thought we could maybe-“ your voice tapered off, “it’s cool, I’ll go on my own. See you in the morning, doc.”

You turned and started to walk away. Something in Spencer’s chest pinched and, instinctively, he reached forward to stop you, grabbing your hand.

“Hey, I didn’t say that,” he said, holding your wrist for a moment longer, “just-just, let me grab my stuff.”

You smiled, confused but happy, “Sure thing.”

He let the door close and, the second you were out of sight, he rushed to the bathroom, frantically combing his hair with his fingers and throwing on a loose tie. Suddenly Spencer wished he'd packed nicer clothing for this trip, not that he had anything remotely as nice as what you were wearing. Still he knew you’d appreciate the effort.

“Ready to go, doc?” You asked when he opened the door again.

Spencer rolled his eyes fondly, “Don’t call me that.”

You laughed and grabbed his arm, dragging him through the door as you set off to the hotel bar together.

————————-

“So what is it about whiskey sours?” Spencer asked.

“Hm?”

“Whiskey sours,” Reid pointed out, gesturing to your drink, “why always them?”

“Are you profiling me again, Agent Reid?” You teased.

A shiver ran down Spencer’s spine at the way your voice dropped and rolled over his name. If you weren’t flirting, it certainly felt like you were.

“So what if I am?” He replied, leaning back, “You said I could, right?”

You smiled, your eyes sparking in the dim light, “I did indeed. You gonna take me up on my offer?”

“Maybe.”

You leaned back in your seat, “Okay then, take your best shot.”

Spencer thought for a moment. You’d been down in the bar for a long while, making your way through drinks and squandering your time talking about nothing in a booth tucked into the corner of the room. By now the alcohol was making Spencer’s head fuzzy. He felt warm and light, and far more confident than he usually would with a beautiful woman, and it was showing in the way he talked and held himself. He was bolder than usual, more upfront, willing to take more risks and infer more from your behavior than normal. So he leaned into it.

“You’re a middle child, grew up in a big city with strict parents,” he started, confidently, “you went to private school but your parents weren’t wealthy, you probably got some sort of scholarship.” You leaned forward, keeping your face blank of anything except the vaguest hint of a smile, and Spencer continued, “You throw yourself into your work because it gives you meaning, it helps you feel like you’re making a difference, the way you never felt like you did in your own home. You’re loyal to a fault, you work hard not just because you like your job, but for us, for the team. You’d do-you’d do anything for us.”

You nodded, “I would.”

“But you don’t value yourself the same way,” Spencer said, leaning closer, “you’d take a bullet for us but you don’t really think we’d do the same for you.” You pressed your lips together slightly, breaking eye contact and looking down into your drink, “But we would, Y/N. I would. You belong here.”

“Here? In a bar with you?” You asked teasingly.

Spencer flushed, “With the BAU.”

“I know,” you said with a soft smile, “not bad, Agent Reid. You should be a profiler or something.”

Spencer laughed, “Really? You think I’m that good?”

“I think you’re more than good,” you replied, “you’re exceptional, you hit the nail right on the head.”

You covered his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, which made Spencer’s heart jump into his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died before he could get them out.

“As for the whiskey sours,” you continued, draining your glass in one, “I drink them because they’re delicious. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

“That’s...disappointing,” Spencer replied. You raised an eyebrow at him, but let the matter drop, “what about me?” He continued, “Got any insights I should know about?”

You sighed and Spencer watched with anticipation as the cogs in your mind started turning. He loved the way you looked when you worked, so focused and sharp that it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Low hanging fruit,” you eventually said, “but I can tell that you’re nervous, that you neatened yourself up before we came down here.”

Spencer flushed again, but he kept his face neutral. You were playing a game now, and Spencer hated to lose.

“You think I did it for you?”

You shrugged, “Maybe. You don’t want me calling you ‘doc’ because it’s too impersonal. The others-Morgan-can use nicknames like that, ‘Pretty Boy’, ‘Boy Wonder’, but not me.” You tilted your head to the side, “It’s different with me.”

“It is different with you, Y/N,” he admitted.

“But different how, I wonder?” You postulated, “I mean, there’s just so many possibilities. Protectiveness, a sense of familial love,” you nudged his leg under the table, “attraction.”

“I don’t see you as a sister,” Spencer interrupted, “I can tell you that for certain.”

“But even if you did feel something for me,” you continued, as if he’d said nothing, “you’d never actually act on it.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows, “Why not?”

“Because you’re scared,” you continued, “of what exactly I’m not sure.”

“I thought that part would be obvious.”

You shrugged, “Not to me.”

Spencer looked down, his heart thrumming like a hummingbird against his fragile rib cage. The line was somewhere behind him now, so far behind him that he couldn’t even begin to think of how to get back behind it.

He looked at you again, letting his eyes scan up and down your body as he thought of what to do. The alcohol in his system made it hard to think, hard to focus on anything except how badly he wanted to kiss you. How badly he wanted to pull you close and touch you, press his lips to every inch of available skin and hear you sigh his name like a prayer. It would be so easy. You were so close, all he’d have to do was lean forward and….

“I’m not scared,” he forced himself to say, his eyes clinging to a fragment of exposed collar bone, “I’m cautious.”

“Is there a difference?”

Spencer nodded, “Yes, there is.”

“So tell me what the difference is, Spence.” You replied, your voice rasping over his name again.

You trailed your fingertips over Spencer’s forearm, sending little shocks of electricity through his body.

“You,” Spencer said.

And, with that, he stopped holding himself back. In one fluid movement Spencer was up and cupping your face with his hand. He moved purposefully, giving you lots of time to pull away but instead you leaned in, closing the little bit of space still left between you and pressing your lips to his.

Fuck. Even through the buzz of alcohol in his system Spencer could tell that this was an incredible kiss, the type that turned his legs to jelly and lit a flame in the pit of his stomach. You sighed against his lips, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him blissfully, impossibly closer. He held your face in his hands, drinking in the taste of whiskey and sugar on your lips like it was oxygen to a fire as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth.

You allowed him access willingly, feeding the flame in Spencer’s chest with every little touch. It was too much, you were too much. It’s like his senses were in overdrive. His heart beat too fast in his chest, his skin prickled with static electricity, he could smell your perfume and the shampoo in your hair from the shower you’d just taken, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted you, no he needed you. He needed you closer, he needed to keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, until the sun burned itself out or the sky fell down and crushed you both flat.

Spencer felt like he was high; high on you, high on himself, high on the fact that, after months of pining and waiting and agonizing over your every interaction, it was finally happening. He’d finally kissed you. He broke away for a second, only long enough to move his lips to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then underneath your ear, dragging the tip of his tongue against your soft skin teasingly.

“Spence,” you gasped, sliding your fingers into his hair.

Your voice sent a bolt of lust straight through him. God he loved that voice.

“Mhm,” he hummed, trailing his lips down your neck and across that tantalizing stretch of collarbone.

“Spence, we're in public.” You laughed breathlessly.

Say my name again, he wanted to say, but he was still nervous, still just the littlest bit hesitant.

“You want me to stop?” He asked, sliding his hands down to grip your hips.

You shook your head and Spencer felt something in his chest relax, “I never said that. I just think we should settle the tab and...and head back to the room.”

That made him freeze. He felt his heart jump into his throat, and the blood rush to his groin. Oh. Oh.

“Yeah, yeah okay, Y/N/N.”

—————————-

You felt like your skin was melting, and Spencer’s hand on the small of your back as you tried to calmly make your way back up to your room wasn’t helping.

You knew you probably looked like a wreck, all smudged lipstick and blown out pupils, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You charged the drinks to your room, wondering if the quiver in your voice was as noticeable to the waitress as it was to you, and walked straight out of the bar.

As soon as you were alone in the hallway, you felt a pressure on your hip, and Spencer had you up against the nearest wall. Before you could do much more than glance at one another his lips were on yours again, setting every nerve in your body on fire. He tasted like rum and coke and danger, and his fingers dug into your hip bones like you were a lifeline, anchoring you to one another.

“This far enough away?” Spencer whispered into your ear, his breath sending shivers down the back of your neck as his lips ravaged the soft skin at the base of your ear.

You mewled as the pleasure licked through you, making your eyes roll back in your head. You were so overwhelmed by the sensation of Spencer’s lips on your skin contrasted with the cold wall against your back that your brain felt like it was short circuiting.

“The-“ you breathed, “you want me up against the wall in some random hallway?” You laughed, “Way to be romantic, Spence.”

He chuckled against your neck and then pulled you into another breathtaking kiss that made your knees buckle. Spencer’s arm snaking around your waist was the only thing that kept you from falling apart.

“I want you,” he said between kisses, “anywhere you’ll let me have you. Up against this wall, in the room, back in the bar. Everywhere.”

You felt the ache between your legs growing as your need for closeness grew and grew and grew.

“Everywhere?” You asked.

There was no way this was really happening, the small part of your mind that was still functional whispered. There was no way that Spencer Reid, your Spencer Reid, was pressing you up against a wall in a fancy hotel, promising to fuck you any which way you wanted. Things like this didn’t happen to you, they didn’t happen to anyone.

“Everywhere,” Spencer agreed, his voice quivering with suppressed desire as he sucked the soft patch of skin where your neck met your shoulder.

“Let’s-let’s start at the bedroom then, yeah?” You breathed between the shocks of pleasure.

You felt Spencer nod and, reluctantly, pull away, dragging you down the hall behind him. His cheeks were flushed, his dark eyes burning with something you’d never seen before but, when he looked back over his shoulder at you, he was smiling. You smiled back.

Spencer’s hands were shaking as he slid the room key into the door and, without meaning to, you giggled.

“Here,” you started, reaching around his body and sliding the key in smoothly, “let me.”

Spencer gave you a sheepish smile as he pushed the door open, pulling you in behind him. As soon as you heard the door click shut, you expected to be shoved up against it but, instead, Spencer just looked at you, his eyes dragging up your body slowly.

There was something in his eye that made you feel more exposed than if you were naked, a tenderness so complete and gentle that it brought a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Spence?” You asked.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” He replied, cupping your face gently with one hand and bringing your lips to his.

This time the kiss was slow, languid, like he had all the time in the world, like he was drinking you in. Spencer’s other hand gripped your waist tight, pulling you flush against his body while your hands rested on the plains of his chest.

The creature in the pit of your stomach responded slowly at first but, as Spencer pressed your lips more firmly to his, the intensity ramped up. You felt Spencer’s tongue trail delicately at the seam between your lips, begging for entrance and, when you opened your mouth obligingly, he groaned. The sound was so sinful, so desperately not like Spencer, that you couldn’t help but react, arching your back and sliding your hands up into his hair.

It was silky soft beneath your fingers and, instinctively, you pulled.

“Fuck,” Spencer growled, bucking his hips up against yours as he trailed his lips down your neck and back up to yours.

This time, when he kissed you, it was rough. His tongue swirled against yours, his hands dug into your hip bones, slamming you up against the door like his life depended on it. You gasped as your back hit the door, but tugged on Spencer’s dark curls to pull him closer, desperate for something you could barely verbalize. The kiss was like whiskey, burning it’s way through every nerve in your body, getting you drunk on the rush of it all.

You wanted more. You needed more.

You let your hands drift to Spencer’s belt buckle, never breaking the kiss as you fumbled with it. Spencer made a sound of surprise against your lips and pulled away, keeping one hand on your jaw while the other reached out to stop you. He was shaking, you noticed, his dark eyes blown wide with a combination of lust and...fear?

“Are you nervous?” You asked.

Spencer froze for a moment, then nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“I-you don’t have to-“ Spencer started breathlessly, “I don’t want you to feel pressured or-“

“Pressured?” You laughed, “I’ve been all over you since the night started.”

Spencer looked unsure for a moment longer and, to help calm his mind, you let your hand drift down to the growing bulge in his pants. His eyes fluttered shut and a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan ripped itself from his throat.

“If you want me, Spencer Reid,” you whispered, “then I’m yours.”

“If I want you,” Spencer repeated with an incredulous laugh, “baby, I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted as much as I want you.”

Baby. The nickname made you even more desperate and you physically ached with how badly you wanted Spencer to just take you apart. You slid your thigh in between his legs, pushing against him just enough to make him hiss from the little bit of friction as you leaned forward, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Then take me.”

————————-

Spencer was so beyond wrecked that it was a joke. Your breath was low and raspy and it dragged across his skin like a feather as he chased the friction he so desperately needed.

“Y/N I-“ he wanted to say something, do something to let you know how he was feeling, how badly he wanted to touch you, but the words died in his throat.

“Shh,” you interrupted, detangling your bodies and threading your fingers through his, “come with me.”

You pulled him, by his shaking hands, towards the bed, pushing him down gently onto the mattress and kissing him deeply. From there you stood between his legs and reached behind your back, slowly dragging the zipper keeping your dress fastened down. Spencer watched, in awe, as the slip of black fabric dropped to the floor, leaving more of your skin exposed to him than he’d ever dared to imagine.

He felt the blood rush to his groin so fast he was light headed. By the time his brain had caught up with his body, you’d placed his hand firmly on your lower stomach, and he trailed his thumb along the soft skin beneath your belly button. Spencer traced every curve of your body with his eyes, glancing over every scar, freckle and birthmark, just in case he’d never get the chance to see them again, and making a mental note to kiss each and every one.

Things felt different now, more deliberate. You were both too sober to blame anything that happened next on alcohol induced psychosis but, in that moment, Spencer couldn’t care less about the consequences.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked, worrying at your bottom lip.

Spencer snapped back into the present and tugged you close, “I told you not to call me that.” He teased, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss.

Fuck tomorrow. Spencer wanted you today.

You collapsed onto his lap, gasping into his mouth as his dick pressed up against your barely covered core. Spencer took the opportunity to slip his tongue back into your mouth, groaning at the taste of your lips against his. You sighed, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, and Spencer felt a lick of confidence shoot through him at the burning desperation he saw in your eyes.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, dragging his teeth across your collarbone, “tell me what you want me to do.”

“You’re wearing too much,” you explained as the buttons of his shirt came undone one by one, “take this off right now.”

“What, no please?”

“Please, Spencer,” you whined.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, shrugging off his shirt.

You traced your fingers over the plains of his chest, feather light, and Spencer’s skin erupted with goosebumps. He shifted you off his lap and onto the bed, laying himself down between your legs and kissing a strip from your lips, down between the valley of your breasts, towards your belly button.

He reached the lace of your underwear and felt his mouth start to water in anticipation. Without really even thinking about it he shifted up so that he was taking up the space between your knees and his face was hovering right above your core, his warm breath dancing across your center.

“Fuck, baby,” he chuckled, running his index finger across your pussy and making you mewl with pleasure, “you’re so wet for me already.”

You nodded, your eyes screwed shut as he traced his fingers back and forth over the soaked strip of fabric and delicious little whimpers and sighs fell from your lips like prayers.

Spencer licked his lips, glancing up at you from his position between your thighs.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Your eyes shot open and Spencer smiled devilishly, “Lift your hips for me baby,” he said more gently.

When you obeyed he slid your underwear down and pressed his lips to your inner thigh, to the crook between your legs and your dripping pussy. You whimpered again, more desperately, as Spencer teased you, trailing his index finger gently between your folds as he kissed all around where you needed him most.

“Spencer,” you gasped, your eyes burning into his like hot coals, “Spencer, please.”

Holy shit, that sent a bolt of desire straight through him, and Spencer couldn’t help but growl, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down towards his mouth. And when you sighed into the cool air he swallowed it right up, drank in the sound of your pleasure like it was sunlight, and tucked it away somewhere in his brain, somewhere he could store the moment forever and never let it go.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you,” he admitted, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh and meeting your eye again, “I’m gonna make you scream for me, Y/N.”

————————-

And that he did. Before your mind could process much more than: fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so hot, Spencer’s mouth was on you, his tongue sliding between your lips like he was trying to devour you whole. It was embarrassing, really, how quickly he had you falling apart, how quickly he managed to have you moaning and gasping out his name as he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again and again. It was embarrassing because you really should have expected it, you should have known that he’d be every bit as good at this as he was at everything else because he’s Spencer and he’s fucking perfect and-

“Fuck,” you cried, twisting your fingers into his hair as he hitched your thighs over his shoulders, changing the angle ever so slightly and sliding a finger inside you, “Spence! God, yes-yes just like that, Spence, please!”

You tugged on his hair, pulling a moan from the back of his throat that went straight to your core, just making you needier and needier as Spencer continued taking you apart piece by piece. He slid in another finger, stretching you out just enough to make you ache for him and you swore you felt him smirk against your pussy as you choked out strings of broken syllables that could’ve been his name. He stuck to a leisurely pace, timing each pump of his fingers to a flick of his tongue across your clit. Slowly the pace increased, drawing out your ecstasy in measured increments that pushed you further and further towards the edge of a cliff.

“Spence I’m-” you whined, “fuck! Fuck, Spencer I’m close!”

The only indication he heard you was an increase in the pace of his tongue, sending pulses of white hot pleasure shooting through your body like lightning bolts. The pressure just kept building and building, taking you closer to the edge with each pump of his fingers and flick of his tongue. He worked another finger inside of you, curled it up, and almost instantly your muscles clenched, your vision went white and you just–

Shattered.

“Spencer!” You cried out, your back arching as your orgasm rolled over you like a tidal wave of pleasure so powerful that you felt your legs turn to jelly and the world vanished into nothing but pleasure and blinding light and Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.

He carried you through it, so gentle and attentive, lapping up every drop of you and stroking his hands gently over your hips and thighs.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he murmured into your hip bone as he lifted himself up.

You sighed, pulling him up and pressing your lips to his. You were wrecked, but blissfully so and, as you tasted yourself on his lips, you felt a lick of hunger rush through your overstimulated sex.

“You’ve said that already,” you smiled, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Only because it’s true,” Spencer breathed, his voice shaky with the effort of holding himself back.

You looked down at his still clothed legs, the hard line of his dick clear as day where it lay against your thigh. He was trembling with desire, his lips red and raw, his hair ruffled and unkempt, like some sort of portrait of a ruined man.

You licked your lips, “Why’re you still wearing these?” You asked, hooking your finger through Spencer’s belt loops and pulling them down over his hips.

Spencer smiled but, before he could come up with some clever retort, you’d flipped him over and straddled his waist. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and frantic breaths, as you shimmied off his boxers and ground yourself against his length.

“Y/N-“ Spencer breathed, his hands flying up to support your waist, “you don’t have to-“

“Shut up,” you interrupted, “I want you inside of me, Spencer.”

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed, somewhere between painfully turned on and painfully strung out, “You’re gonna kill me if you keep talking like that, baby.”

“Keep calling me baby and we’ll see what happens,” you teased back, punctuating your sentence with an intentional shift over his dick.

Spencer’s head fell back against the bed, and the sound wrenching itself from the back of his throat was so incredibly needy that you felt your pussy start to ache again. Spencer ran his hands along your thighs, his cock twitching against his stomach as you sighed into his touch.

“Are-fuck-” Spencer groaned as you moved along his length, “are you-?”

“I’m sure.” you whispered.

In one fluid movement you raised yourself up on your knees, captured his lips in a kiss and reached down between your bodies, lining his cock up with your entrance so that when he hissed at the contact and instinctively bucked his hips up-

“Holy shit,” he moaned as the first inch of his dick disappeared into your body, gripping your hips hard, like he couldn’t decide whether he was trying to stop you or just thrust into your body until he came, “You-oh my god, baby-” he gasped.

And you’re forced to sink down onto him slowly because-fuck-he was bigger than you thought he was, and it hurt, but it was electrifying and you wanted to take him more than anything in the world and and and-

You bottomed out and Spencer physically quivered from the effort of holding still, his hands roaming your body like he wanted to touch you everywhere, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. And his eyes were shot and his hair’s a mess and his bottom lip was red and raw where you bit it and, if he’d been more beautiful than he was in that moment you couldn’t remember so you kissed him. You poured every ounce of desire and tenderness and care into that kiss, like somehow he’d be able to understand, to see how important this felt, how absolutely cataclysmic it felt to have him inside of you.

Slowly, and with your lips still connected, you start to move your hips, setting a punishingly slow pace as the sounds of your bodies moving together started to fill the room. Spencer moaned against your lips, snapping his hips up against your and making you gasp as he filled every inch of you. He wanted to take control, to flip you over and pound into you until you were both tired and spent, but you kept it slow, building the foundations of your pleasure every bit as meticulously as he had.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, Y/N,” he breathed against your lips, chasing you as you pull away, “you feel so fucking good-so-God-so tight for me.”

You nodded, “All for you.”

His answering moan was animalistic as he chased your kiss, pushing himself up so that you were seated in his lap with his one arm around your waist and the other reaching to stroke tight circles around your clit. The change in angle somehow managed to force Spencer deeper inside of you, brushing a patch of skin that made you see stars. Without warning he started to lift you up and slide you back down onto his cock, timing each with a snap of his hips that had you gasping and tugging at his hair like a maniac.

Mania was what it felt like, so intense and all encompassing that the rest of the world had ceased to exist. All that mattered was you and Spencer and the second orgasm you could feel rushing at you with every thrust.

“Spence-” you gasped as the coil in your stomach grew painfully tight, “Spence I’m gonna-I’m so close, please!”

“Come for me, baby,” he grunted, pushing down on your clit as he bottomed out.

Your orgasm was softer this time, less violent and shocking than sweet and deliberate, drawn out to a fine edge and, when you moaned and tossed your head back, losing yourself in the feeling of rightness, you just held him tightly and pulled his hair as the waves of pleasure crashed over you again. His thrusts were getting sloppy now, his breath ragged and desperate but, when you came, he looked into your eyes, and the total bliss in them sent him falling over the edge right behind you.

“Y/N.” he whispered, like it was something sacred, pulling you close as he climaxed, filling you up as his cock pulsed inside of you.

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

Spencer could tell that you were breathless and exhausted but, even so, you held him until the last shocks of his orgasm had subsided, leaving him tired and strung out as you detangled your bodies. You kissed him softly, vanishing into the bathroom to clean yourself up and leaving Spencer to do the same. He watched the bathroom door, listening as you turned the tap on and wondering what his next move should be.

You were colleagues, work friends, what you’d just done had broken about 10 different rules and would almost definitely mean a lot of trouble for you both if it ever came out. But, by the same token, it had felt so good. You’d wanted him, like really wanted him and he’d wanted you right back. It had been...special, important, more than just a poorly thought out hook up in a hotel, it had meant something. Hadn’t it?

When you reappeared from the bathroom with a robe wrapped around your naked body, Spencer physically felt his heart skip a beat. You. Were. Glorious. With your hair all messed up and just the faintest trace of your lipstick still staining your mouth, you were the closest thing to perfection he’d ever seen and, instinctively, he reached for your hand and pulled you back down onto the mattress beside him. You giggled as you fell, collapsing onto his chest with a sweet smile.

“So,” you started.

“So.” Spencer answered.

“Was all that in your profile, Agent Reid?” You asked teasingly, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him, something sweet glimmering in your eyes.

“No,” Spencer laughed, shaking his head emphatically, “no, definitely not.”

“Well, it was in mine,” you joked, laying your head down again, “so you’d better up your game.”

“A more accurate profile would require a more intense level of study at this stage,” Spencer said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You looked up, “Is that your way of saying you’d like to do this again sometime?”

He shook his head, but then nodded, “No-well, yes, but I was actually thinking something more...socially engaging? Something requiring clothes and conversation?”

“You mean like a date?”

Spencer looked down, meeting your gaze head on. The look on your face was so open, so trusting that it sent a flood of emotions straight into his chest and, for a moment, he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He could love you, he realized. If he went down this road, he definitely would. He would love you and you would hold your heart in his hand and maybe, just maybe, that could be a good thing. Maybe he wanted to give you his heart. Maybe he wanted you to give him yours.

“Yeah, Y/N,” he answered, “exactly like a date.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes

#jordsie #jordsie writes #cm #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanons #spencer x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x you #mgg

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kingofthecon · 4 years

Text

'Becoming a ghost is sad.' The comment caused Stanley Pines to startle and look to the one who'd spoken. His great nephew, Dipper, had been watching one of his paranormal shows on the tube and was either talking to himself or to the old man who was far too busy sitting on the living room floor marking up graph paper for what would most likely be another "riveting" night of Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons. 'Nerds,' Stanley mused as he walked through the wall to reach the gift shop where no one could see his form solidifying. Whatever conversation was taking place in the next room he didn't not wish to be a part of it. He knew more than he needed to about specters, being one himself gave him that keep sort of insight after all. Of course he couldn't have his way as the young man entered room still rattling on about his theory. "A ghost being obsessed with something to the point they stick around is so sad. It's also the same with unfinished business. In both those scenarios a ghost can possibly stick around forever and get stuck. I bet that's what happened to Ma and Pa Duskerton." Stanley sighed, resigning himself to listening to the kid and the old man that followed in afterwards - the thoughtful frown he wore disappearing when he saw his twin behind the counter where he'd "walked" to count the money in the register. "I didn't see you come in, Stanley." "Not surprising," he grumped at his twin without looking up from the wad of cash in his hands. "You've always had a bad case of tunnel vision." "I didn't see you come in either, grunkle Stan." "Not surprising," Stan repeated, only this time he did look up. "That's been a trend for the entirety of the summer." Dipper turned a bit red while Stanford looked offended. Neither nerd could talk, however, because Stanley's words were true. It made him smirk just a tad as he went back to counting. Meanwhile, Dipper got over his embarrassment and went back to his talk of ghost with his great uncle Stanford. "Between the Duskertons and the Lumberjack ghost there haven't really been too many opportunity to explore the--" "Kid," Stanley interupts drawing the attention of his brother and his nephew. "There's nothin' complicated about ghosts. They die and stick around because somethin's keepin'em around. Could be unfinished business like revenge for their deaths. Could be to protect someone. Could be just to play pranks or scare people for no reason. Some are weak. Some can be dangerous. End of story." Dipper and even Stanford looked unconvinced, though there was also a hint of suspicion that Stanley decided he wasn't going to stick around for. He probably shouldn't have opened his mouth - but after everything that'd happened up until bringing Ford back; including the part where he specifically told his dangerous know-it-all of a brother to stay away from the kids, he'd been a little high strung. And he knew the exact reason why. It didn't help that Dipper's preferred topic of the day hit a little too close to home for Stanley. Unable to look them in the eyes as he walked away, he didn't notice the way Dipper seemed to curl inward or Stanford's twitch - the chill that suddenly came over the two of them having nothing to do with Stan's cold shoulder.

His escape from the shack wasn't nearly as fast as he would have liked it to be, but he needed to act casual. In hindsight he had acted foolishly. His brother was a genius with 12 PhDs and could probably see through that act about as easily as if he'd been able to see through Stanley if he wasn't capable of sustaining his tangibility. It was why in the car, deep in the woods, he was able to drop the act. Gone was the old man only to be replaced by a younger man somewhere between 25-35 with a tattered red jacket and a mullet. His once vibrant skin had a blue tint to it and the outglow that his body had but was harder to see during the day became bright. Despite the unnecessity of breathing the spector still found himself releasing an exhale in an attempt to calm himself down. Why had he even panicked the way he had? Dipper was just being his inquisitive self. Was it because of Ford? Was it because Stanford could figure him out in a heartbeat if given the chance? With the Pines Twins classic being at odds with one another, even after their thirty year separation, would the remnants of their relationship last with Stanley becoming just another anomaly to Stanford who only stuck around because he had unfinished business? Would Stanford try to exorcise him - believing that Stanley was nothing more than an echo of a person he'd known long ago but had died - no body left to bury? Would he become even more insufferable; asking his stupid questions about ghosts and what it was like to be one and what kept him tethered to the world of the living? Stanley...didn't want to find out. Frozen fingers tapped gentle at the steering wheel - the car having a ghostly glow of its own as well - before simply gripping at it tightly. He couldn't very well run away from this - he knew that, but he couldn't continue to hide what he was from Dipper and Stanford. Between the two of them something would have to give, and Stanley wasn't ready to let it all go just yet. He wanted to make amends with Stanford. He wanted them to be friends again. He couldn't do that, he assumed, if he were to be found out. 'There's one place I can go...' he mused as he started the car and headed deeper into the forest until the trees became too clustered for the car to pass. He debated on simply driving through them anyway - his car took on ghostly properties when he was in it after all - they were practically one entity, but he chose instead to get out continue on foot so to speak. He could feel himself calm considerably as well as a bit of a boost of energy the closer he came to a cluster of rocks and boulders that seemed practically welded together - an old ruin of sorts he assumed. Once close enough the hum of something reached his ears. He merely placed the palm of his hand against the wall and let his body phase through until a swirling mass of light and dark greens came into his field of vision. 'The Ghost Zone' he thought as he shook his head. He'd only been there twice - when he first...died...and again when he realized there were certain advantages to having a ghost portal connected to other parts of the world - especially when that meant getting materials for another type of portal; a trans-dimensional portal that needed a specific type of fuel and power source. It was complicated. At least he'd found a supplier and had a network going. He wondered if, maybe, said supplier would be willing to give him any advice, or if the Cheese Head had other things going on. Either way, Stan was on his way to Wisconsin. @gamblealife

#gamblealife #Vlad Plasmius #—Swindler's Folly #• Stanny Phantom #Ghost Stan AU #It Occurs To Me That I've Never Settled On A Location For Amity Park #And I don't think it has a location canonically either #Even though Wisconsin Is a Thing #But What If Amity Park is Located smack Dab in the Middle of Cali and Oregon #We can Make this Work #With the Plasmius and Fenton Portal we can Make this Work #Probably #Long Post #Stanley knows Vlad is Sketch #He has a sense for these things #He just doesn't know how his sketch is cray cray #lmao

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jojo-reader-hell · 5 years

Note

hi could i please get a rohan x sibling reader during the events of DIU?? and if u dont mind, could the reader be around 15ish and a stand user?? sorry if this is too vague

No worries! I had to do a bit of research for this one, so I hope you enjoy it regardless! I didn’t know his character too well, let me know if I did Rohan justice!

Rohan Kishibe and Sister!Reader: Tales from Moominvalley

“Are you reading that pathetic excuse of chicken scratch again?”

You looked up from your Moomin anthology, a scowl on your face when your eyes met with Rohan’s. You never understood why you got the short end of the stick with this piss poor excuse of a brother. He mocked everything you did, most brothers would protect their baby sisters from any harm in the world. A normal big brother would sacrifice life and limb, climb any mountain, face any foe, stop his own heart to pull his baby sister free from a centuries long curse. Rohan called you a basement dweller because you held weekly sessions of Dungeons and Dragons at the cyber cafe in town (it used to be held at your home, until Rohan started coming in and making fun of the plot you’d created). He would demean you as a person for getting less than perfect marks at school. Put on a good enough show for the adults that worshiped him and for the fans of his works, but treated you like a disease.

“It’s called literature, Rowboat. As in, the artist is also an accomplished writer who understands world building and human emotion. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Go back to your cartoons.”

You had to be harsh, to protect yourself from him.

“What did you say, you little basement dweller?!” He growled.

“I said you’re nowhere near the accomplishments of Tove Jansson, artistically or in terms of writing. Now shut up and leave me alone. I’m reading about REAL emotions.”

You both continued like this back and forth, until Rohan refused to cook you dinner and you stormed out of the house in a huff, not letting him see the tears that fell down your cheeks as you slammed the door. He knew you didn’t have much money, but the way you insulted him, he couldn’t take the abuse lying down.

Not even if he had to be the responsible one, because your parents didn’t want to take care of a child anymore. Not even if he’d been the one to come and claim you, never alluding to how much he’d cried when he was told that the courts approved his request to become your legal guardian, or how excited he’d been to have the privilege of raising such a fine baby sister such as you were.

Pride got in the way. Useless pride, and perhaps even a bit of envy when he first heard you telling stories to your Stand. Defying Gravity always sat perfectly still when he saw her through the crack in your door, her head cocked as you went on and on about the worlds inside your head and the characters you thought of. Some of them seemed so familiar, and it was when he’d taken you on some outings in the city for school supplies that he noticed you were very quiet and contemplative, always watching everyone else around you live their lives as though you were watching fish swimming in an aquarium. It was always pride, because no matter how many times Rohan used his Stand on others he couldn’t seem to connect the dots like you could. Understanding people and emotions, it came so naturally to you, and yet it never seemed as though you were able to read your own brother accurately.

He noticed as he trekked to the kitchen to make some coffee that you’d left your Moomin book on the table. Strange... you never put the stupid thing down, and he never had a chance to see what it was about even though he could have easily gone to the store and picked up a copy himself. He noticed heathen that you were, you marked pages and smiled to yourself when no one was looking.

When he picked up the book, perusing random pages, he noticed you had starred some very important text bubbles, and sinking into the chair, he decided to thumb through the pages and read every bit of text that you deemed important.

“But one needs a change sometimes. We take everything too much for granted, including each other.”

“I only want to live in peace, plant potatoes and dream!”

“All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured.”

“It’s funny about paths and rivers, you see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else – wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps.”

"Oh! I should like to live in that shell. I want to go inside and see who is whispering in there."

"It's only the sea. Every wave that dies on the beach sings a little song to a shell. But you mustn't go inside because it's a labyrinth and you may never come out."

“I used to stand before the mirror and look deep in my unhappy eyes and heave sighs such as: ‘Oh cruel fate!’ ‘Oh terrible lot’ ‘Nevermore.’ And in a few minutes I felt a little bit better.”

Such beauty in words, he could hardly put the book down and continued to thumb through it, gaining a little bit more insight into the cunning and beautiful thoughts you must have had every single day. He teased you because he envied you. Manga was all practicality. Never any freedom because his editor always breathed heavily down his neck at any original thought that would not sell and make Rohan an instant success. This was the fault in his craft, and he envied you because you were a dreamer. You lived your life skipping barefoot in the clouds of your imagination, but only crashing down to earth again when he jarred you with his mean spirit. To read about the words that inspired you from your favorite book, and to know you as he never could if you were standing in front of him, it felt so raw and open that his heart ached in such a way that it never had before.

And then he was shot in the chest again, because the very last passage you had underlined made him choke up with guilt.

“I put my trivial surroundings aside and mused more and more about myself, and I found this to be a bewitching occupation. I stopped asking and longed instead to speak of my thoughts and feelings. Alas, there was no one besides myself who found me interesting.”

Didn’t he have a hand in that? You used to want to tell him stories. You used to be so excited and blooming with life that no matter how many times he tried to recreate that pure enthusiasm he always failed. It was something so uniquely belonging to his baby sister that was like a daughter to him. Your sparkle, is what he called it. Your sparkle used to shine so brightly when you tried to explain the world within you, only to be shot down cruelly because he had a deadline to meet. He had a manuscript to complete because the bills were due and he had to get you a new uniform and new shoes, had to struggle and pull the strength out of himself to keep you happy and healthy, only to push you away and make you angry at him.

He was unreadable to you, Rohan realized, because you couldn’t comprehend why someone you loved and trusted with your true self rejected you so harshly.

Guilt ate at him as he put the book down where it came from, instinct pulling him into the kitchen where he began to chop vegetables and cook rice for a simple meal to be waiting for you when you returned. Rohan knew you didn’t have enough money, maybe for some chips from the convenience store, but not enough for any kind of a meal that he could take the time to cook. He had four days off, he could make you something that gave you substantial leftovers and even get to work on a lunch for you to take to school tomorrow, he could start off new. Show you how much he loved you and cared for you, his only baby in the whole wide world that he ran himself ragged for.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe x reader #little sister reader #jjba #jjba stand oc #jjba stand #jjba x reader #jjba diu #reader insert fiction #moominvalley #i go hard for them moomins #moomin #tove jansson #reader is a stand user

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problamaticparagraph · 3 years

Text

The old hunter:

Fanciful notions never appealed to Boris.

He much preferred what was in front of his face.

Up to now anyway.

The snow collected on his cloak, making it heavy and hard to move his shoulders.

There was a time he would have cared about that, the time when at a moment’s notice- he’d need to heft the weight of his sword.

But not now.

Now he was an old man and now monsters where more frequent, but impossible to fight.

Boris sat by his smouldering campfire, watching the flames. Occasionally he’d throw a lump of wood on the embers that would catch and prolong his only source of warmth. Boris liked fire, it hurt of cause. If you were stupid with it. Then again if you were smart it could cook a meal or dive away wolves or light the way. Boris liked fire.

He didn’t speak. There was no one to speak to, so he didn’t but Boris enjoyed the sound the bards sometimes made. So, he hummed a tune. Short and simple sounds that didn’t really have much of a structure, but it made the landscape feel less lonely.

He’d make it to a town in the morning, he’d have to see people and if no other option presented itself, talk to them.

Boris didn’t like people, they… where difficult but for now Boris had the evening. The howl of the wind made Boris think of the cry of yetis, how guttural they were, the power, the violence. Boris took a deep breath and for a moment could almost smell the stench of their hide.

That night, he happily slept under the vail of the stars dreaming of frost covered beast trying to tear him limb from limb.

----

He woke with the sun in his eyes and about a foot of snow around his body, his louche warm flesh left unfrozen by the layers of furs from rare creatures.

Begrudgingly Boris gets to his feet and begins walking toward the distant coeloms of cooking fires.

As he strides through the deep snow, after about thirty meters from is buried camp, the cracking of ice comes from under Boris’s feet.

“River… Fuck…”

The icy water closed over Boris’s head, for a moment he imagined massive pair of jaws about to close over him.

No churning water. No razor teeth. Just freezing water and the bed of the river lit by dull grey sunlight through the ice.

Holding his breath, Boris sawm under the ice to the far bank, drew is well aged sword, and plunged it into the ice, carving a hole that could accommodate his bulk.

Should anyone have been watching the frozen over river bank, which no one was but if they had been they would have seen a section of snow covered ice sink out of sight and then followed a large blank faced man lumbering out of the freezing water as if this near death experience was more boring than tax filings.

Ice formed in Boris’s hair and in the pelts covering his body as he entered the small town. People watched in confusion as this massive man covered in ice tracked ice onto the cleared area of snow. This man was clearly a barbarian but he wasn’t screaming for drink and women, nor money. He just walked into town and asked where the nearest inn was in an old language.

After several people not understanding him, one old man was able to point him in the right direction.

Then Boris sat at the bar, the man behind it took some time before asking but inevitably asked if he wanted a drink. Boris, his furs steaming gently in yhe warmth looked confused and mined chugging an invisible glass, the barman nods. Boris shook his head and reaches to a coin pouch, placing three of its coins on the counter.

Boris bit his lip and tried out this new language, “SSStories.”

The barman raised an eyebrow.

Boris try’s a further faze, “Bar, Hear, Everything.”

The barman looked around the empty room and starts rambling about various rumours. Boris let him talk without really listening until the man got to a word he knew. He raised a quieting hand, “Say, Again.”

The word repeated but covered with other drivel.

“Grateful.” Boris sits up and leaves the Inn.

Boris made his way to a leafless tree at a small way from the town, far enough that they were unlikely to try and talk to him but close enough to not be inconvenienced should he need return.

Boris sat at the base of the tree and pondered about the word.

“Dragon.”

It was an old word, older than him and that was something. He’d seen them, great hulking things, swarming like wasps and tearing at towns like they’re great walls were made of sand. He hadn’t fought them though. Not once.

Everything else yes. Trolls, defiantly. Ogres, sure. Gorgons, difficult but yes. Leviathan, with enough planning. Fay, one or two. Giant spiders, absolutely. Orcs, by the dozen but never a dragon, not one drake. Monsters where getting fewer and further between. The last thing he’d slain had been an elk. The last vagally interesting thing was a damn nymph. Hardly a challenge for a dagger, let alone his well-honed blade.

The man had mentioned the new name for a distant peek, a foolish thing; no Drake ever dwelt there.

Nevertheless, hope burned is Boris’s soul. Hope that perhaps this tall tale was true. That perhaps he could finally find a Darke, that he could find a path forward, away from all this strangeness.

----

Boris sat under the tree for a long time. After a few hours a woman from the town came and tried to ask Boris something. He gave her an impassive look and tried to deduce what she was talking about.

“Need. No. Food.” He concluded waving a dismissive hand. After some time spent with her standing passively.

The woman looked confused and repeated her question.

Boris’s brow creased. “No. Roof. Have many pelts.”

The woman repeated herself again.

Boris stood up in mounting confusion. “Not. Understand.”

The woman reached into a bag at her side and withdrew a piece of parchment and a quill.

Boris took a step back, his eyes locked on the paper.

The woman tentatively stepped forward and tried to press the evil fiddley tools into Boris’s hands.

Boris in a moment of shock took them and found himself staring at the page.

Perspiration pored of Boris’s brow as he looked uncomprehendingly at the first line. Then those areas around it, decorative. Completely unnecessary. After a moment even colder than the snow, Boris whipped his face on his sleeve and quietly handed the two items back. “Have no use for such things.”

Boris left after that.

He’d considered buying some food before going but this place was too odd and there would be wolves on the way, he had made a plan now anyway.

That page really bothered Boris. The strange curly things inscribed there on, Nothing like that of his mother Tung. He could read, not very well it was true. Not very fast either, but at least in the old days people wouldn’t thrust sheets of paper at people clearly minding their own busyness.

The snow started falling again a few kilometres. Somehow that was comforting. It showed that at some level the world was still working. Tung’s change, people change, everything changes but snow will always fall.

Boris wore many skins. They were trophies of his kills, marks of pride but Boris liked the cold; it remined him how good warmth was.

That made him think about dragons. Most of them couldn’t breathe fire but they all loved the stuff. Polished there scales up really good, everyone knew they were vain as cats.

Some people said they hadn’t died, simply- left. Gone somewhere else, some far undiscovered land.

Boris didn’t know where he stood on that. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn’t.

Boris went over the horizon in pursuit of this supposed peek. Headed west.

After days of snow, ice and old dreams of fighting in-human evils. Boris spotted a coelom of smoke.

As Boris neared it, music flowed over the snow.

Boris stopped, listening. It was an old song. Played amateurishly but Boris had though it good enough to insight some nostalgia.

And then a discord. Nostalgia died. The wind blew cold.

In the same tune, the same key something new echoed out over the snow.

Boris Approved the small lodge, the familiar feeling of twigs raking over his skin making him think of great Ents trying to smash him into the dirt. He stopped and waited in the lee of a great pine; it’s needles reminiscent of spines in Boris’s mind.

After some time, listening Boris approached the tiny log hut. He loomed as the approached, the music faultered into silence.

“Song. Change. Why?”

The young man opened and closed his mouth in panic. Boris looked at him for some time. After a while the boy seemed much paler than when Boris hard first seen him.

“WHY?” Boris repeated.

The boy’s flute fell from his shaking hands. He ran inside his tiny shack and slammed the door behind him.

Boris stood as the bolts of the door shot home.

“Rude…”

Boris left after that, there was still a smouldering fire but he didn’t want to scare the man anymore then he already had.

----

The remainder of Boris’s journey was largely uneventful up until his destination, funnily enough people don’t tend to question a six-foot six man with a great sword on his back.

He’d had wolf the previous night, they were mostly genital creatures and he’d felt bad about killing it, but winter was reaching its peak and hunger drove them to hunt anything that moved. That and waste had no place on the road, he’d buried the bones properly after his meal; as a thank you.

Boris traipsed up the side of the mountain. His stride slightly diminished then from the start of his journey.

He neared the mouth of the cave and stood, outlined against the white of the snow; a clear target to anything within.

The snow blew.

Boris drew his sword.

The snow started to collect on it.

For a several minutes, Boris waited for something to happen.

The wind howled.

Boris sagged.

And sheathed his sword, turning his back.

“What do you want, little ape?” The voice was alien, old and rumbling, it was deep and regal. It was that of a beast of imagination.

Boris’s eyes lit up. Slowly, as to not insight hostility, he turned.

A black mussel protruded from the darkness of the cave, two meters from Boris; above its scaly black maw two blue-gold eyes shone in the shadows.

Boris very calmly, sat on the snow looking up at the thing.

“You are a warrior? You desire gold, I have none. You desire maidens, none are here. What for have you come? To slay me. You may try.” The drakes voice booms with gargantuan menace.

Boris pats his knee as he thinks.

“I want no gold, no women, no men, no blood. I come for other reasons.” Boris says thankful to be speaking to someone versed in his old language.

“Then why, ape? Answer.” The dragon withdraws slightly, as if preparing for something.

“Your people where evil but you only sought dominion. To rule all you saw. There is a new evil, more oppressive then you ever could be.” Boris says with uncharacteristic splendour.

“Taxes.” Boris says flatly.

There is a moment in which the dragon weighs its options. It cupped is jaw in its massive hands, “Tell me of these, ‘Taxes’.”

“Tithe. Penance. With no gods or kings. Can run from gods, can run from kings; cannot run from taxes.” Boris spits at the dirt.

“This evil has many allies, more than gods and kings?” Asked the dragon visibly intrigued.

“There minions have many names, ‘Secretary’, ‘Deputy of Hace RRR’, ‘Dave from accounting’…” Boris trailed into silence.

The dragon ponders for a few moments, “Some men with slips of paper came by a few months ago. Apparently, some lord owns this mountain now, they said I was… I believe ‘evicted’ is the word they used. Whatever they wanted I ate them on general principle. A few weeks later some other men collapsed part of my cave. It took days to dig my way out and when I did my gold was gone. It would seem these ‘Taxes’ can over-power even a drake. Perhaps I will burn them to the ground.”

Boris crosses his arms, “No. No blood. No more. We are both of the old world, the world before taxes and paperwork.”

The dragon cresses its scaly brow, “So? That makes us what? Obsolete?”

“Allies.” Boris reached behind him and allowed snow to collect on his hand. Then brought it around so the fresh snow was under the dragon’s nose. “We are of the same time,” closing his palm forcing the snow to melt and drip to the ground; “We no longer fit.”

The dragon’s voice emotes it rising boredom, “And what do you suggest?”

Boris wipes the damp from his palm, “I have travelled much, even with raiders in my youth. They had ships, good ships. I have seen distant lands, places that resist the grasp of taxes and building permits. No ‘Census’, no ‘most recent address in the last five years’; a place with no more ‘sir, ‘cave’ is not a recognised street address’.”

The dragon huffs hot steam in Boris’s face, “Interesting. How do you suppose we get there?”

“You can fly yes?” Boris says standing with a wide grin on his face.

The dragon stretched like a cat that weighed fourteen tones. “You intrigue me ape, very well; let us find this land.”

And they flew.

#dragon #parody #short story #fiction #fantasy #tax evaders #tax evasion #be gay do crimes #yes I 100% ship the dragon and Boris #times change

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kmomof4 · 4 years

Text

Going Home Ch2 of Somewhere Out There 3A Canon Divergence

I’ve wanted to continue this canon divergence for a while and I’m so thrilled to be sharing it with you all now! This fic wouldn’t have been possible without the INVALUABLE eyes, insight, questions, and cheering of @thisonesatellite. Thank you so much, my friend!!! I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Ch Summary: After True Love’s Kiss works in bringing back Emma and Henry’s memories, CS and Henry return home to the Enchanted Forest.

Rating: For this chapter, G. For the entire fic, M (smut)

Words: 2500 of 5300 total

Tags: 3A Canon Divergence

Ch1 | Ao3 chapter link | Ao3 fic link

Tag List: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @nikkiemms @xsajx @klynn-stormz

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The Jolly Roger cut smoothly across the crystal clear water, swiftly approaching the castle of Snow White and Prince Charming. Emma felt a thrill of excitement skitter down her spine as she beheld the flawless edifice for the first time. Memories of her first trip to the Enchanted Forest paraded themselves across her mind’s eye, the ruins of the castle she was born in, as well as her mother’s tears when faced with its destruction.

But this morning, with the sun rising over the mountains that surrounded her parents castle, the exterior nearly blinded her. The rays reflected off the white stone and turrets she remembered her mother talking about after they returned home from their Enchanted Forest adventure until her vision was positively dazzled. Her family and the other inhabitants of the place of her birth had obviously worked hard to rebuild in the year that they’d been back here. Or maybe Regina had simply waved her hand to restore the castle to its former glory.

They had left New York forever the next day after spending that Saturday packing up what they wanted to take with them and taking care of all the loose ends that would have been left had they simply disappeared. They arrived two days later at the familiar rocky coast of what had once been Storybrooke to find nothing but unblemished forest and sea birds. Poor Henry looked like he was about to cry, and she had to admit that she was having trouble hiding her own tears as well. She’d been careful, she thought, about getting her hopes up, but seeing with her own eyes no trace of Storybrooke, she realized just how much she had come to think of the small town as home and just how disappointed she was that it wasn’t there. Killian helped dispel the melancholy that had enveloped them by taking them both in his arms and assuring them that he would get them home to their family. They changed course, back toward New York until they found and fell through the portal that would take them home.

A feeling of peace, of home settled over her for the first time in her life. All her life she’d been shuffled from place to place, group home to foster home and back again. And even as an adult, the longest she’d stayed anywhere was Tallahassee. But with her pirate and son behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see Killian leaving Henry at the helm and begin making his way toward her, and the rest of her family ahead of her, living in a fairy tale castle to boot, she had never felt so content.

Strong arms circled around her waist and clasped over her middle. She covered his hands with her own as he nuzzled into her neck, placing a tender kiss right behind her ear. “What are you thinking, Swan?” he murmured.

She turned in his arms and raised up onto her toes to kiss him. “Just how much this feels like home. Neal told me, years ago, that home was the place that when you left, you just missed it. Obviously I never missed the Enchanted Forest. I’d never lived here. And going back to where Storybrooke had been made me realize how very much I missed my family.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Missed you. Even if I didn’t remember.”

Killian smiled down at her. “Aye, Love. We missed you, too.” He gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly for a few moments before he gave her a chaste kiss and released her, turning back toward the helm. She watched as he took over from Henry and her son started towards her.

“So, what do you think, Mom?” he queried as he leaned against the gunwale.

She smiled at him. “I think we’re home. And I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to see our family again.”

“Agreed,” he said, staring at the castle that was growing ever closer. Just a few minutes later, they were able to make out the dock at the back of the castle. Emma couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that there didn’t appear to be anyone to meet them. Wouldn’t someone have seen them coming from the towers of the palace?

Killian carefully brought the Jolly into berth as Henry secured the ship to the dock. Just as they were making their way down the gangplank, the Blue Fairy appeared before them. She gave a small bow before speaking.

“Thank you, Captain,” she began, “for bringing the Savior home.” Suddenly, the fairy pulled a small vial out of mid-air, uncorked it, and tossed its contents onto Emma.

Emma was frozen in place. Fear gripped her as she heard Killian and Henry shout, Killian drawing his sword in her defense, Henry’s face a mask of shock and dismay. Before Killian could reach the fairy, she waved her wand and a blue cloud of magic enveloped her and the magical being. Moments later, she found herself in a dark cave lit only by torch light. It took a few moments before she could see well enough to realize it was the same cave prison that Killian had left her in before she and her mother had made it back to Storybrooke. Only this time, it was the Blue Fairy on the other side of the bars, not her True Love and Cora. Emma lunged at the bars.

“What are you doing?” she shouted.

Emma stared at the fairy, stunned. She looked sad, apologetic almost, for her actions, at the state Emma found herself in. She rattled the bars in anger. “Answer me! What have you done? Where are my parents?”

“Your parents are fine, Your Highness.” Emma huffed at the fairy’s use of her title.

“Why are you calling me “Your Highness” if you’ve put me in this dungeon?” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on her captor.

“Because you are still the Princess in this land, and I’m truly sorry to have to do this.” And with that enigmatic statement, the Blue Fairy disappeared. Emma shook the bars before her again and shouted as loudly as she could. There was no response. She turned and looked around, trying to think of anything that she could possibly do to get out. Trying to use magic was useless. She at least remembered that much from her previous imprisonment. The light from the torch just outside the cell reflected off of something lodged into a crevice in the rock wall. Walking over to it, she saw it was a small mirror. Pulling it out, the glass was suddenly filled with a purple smoke before a dark skinned, kindly, ageless face appeared.

“Hello, Savior,” he greeted her.

Emma couldn’t keep the shocked surprise out of her voice. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter, Savior, but yes, I know exactly who you are, Emma Swan,” he intoned. “And I also know what the Blue Fairy is doing.”

It took Emma a moment to absorb what he just said. “You do? Why?” she asked, “She is supposed to be one of my parents closest friends and advisors. Why would she do this?”

His bottomless brown eyes grew sad as he answered her. “I have watched the Blue Fairy for many years, since long before you were born. She has forsaken her duty of protecting your family. It is my responsibility to rein her in, to deprive her of the source of her power and now that she is back in a realm with magic, I am able to do so.”

“Are you taking her magic?” Emma queried.

The man smiled enigmatically. “When she realized that her magic was weakening, she sent Killian to bring you home.”

“She gave me the dream so that I would recognize Killian when he got there,” she breathed. “She repositioned Cygnus, both here and in my world, so that he could find me.”

He nodded slowly. “Indeed.”

Emma looked back at the bars. “Can you help me get out of here?”

“I cannot help you escape beyond what I’ve already done. You have the means at your disposal. Good luck, Savior.” Magic began to swirl in the mirror.

“Wait,” Emma cried, “Who are you?”

“I am Merlin. Don’t you know me?” he answered with a smile before he disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

Emma stared at the glass before her, not knowing what to do. She remembered what Rumplestiltskin had told her when they had all returned from New York after she found Neal. That magic was not an intellectual endeavor. She had to feel it. Squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath, and shutting her eyes, she thought of Killian and Henry and how much she loved them and wanted to be with them again.

She opened her eyes again to see her two favorite people smiling at her. Her own face broke into a grin. “Swan,” Killian cried, “Are you alright? Where are you?”

“I’m below the castle in the dungeon. In Rumple’s cell,” she explained. “Where’s Mom and Dad? And Regina?”

“We’re here, Emma,” her mother called. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright,” she exclaimed, pushing her way into the mirror’s glass. Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you’re really here! And that Blue would do this!”

“Merlin gave me this mirror so we could communicate. She’s trying to steal my magic because he’s been draining hers for her failure in upholding her duty to our family.”

Snow’s face was an “O” of shocked disbelief. Regina appeared in the mirror. “So what do we do?” she asked. “We obviously can’t trust the Blue Fairy anymore.”

“Merlin said that I have the tools at my disposal. I figured out what to do with the mirror. But maybe, my magic too? That’s a tool, isn’t it? Mom, Cora said that even Rumplestiltskin couldn’t escape this prison. Why? What’s so special about it?”

“We had it specially constructed and magically protected so that he could never escape. Only light and dark magic combined can weaken the enchantment.”

They turned their eyes upon Regina. “Two sides of the same coin,” Emma whispered. “Regina, you attack from outside the prison, I attack from inside. That would do it, right?”

Regina’s eyebrows rose. “It should. But what about Blue? Where is she? How do we neutralize her?”

“Regina!” Snow scolded.

Regina rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about killing her. Just neutralizing her. Taking her magic, making her unable to fight us.”

“She disappeared. I have no idea where she is. But, if she’s wanting my magic, I would assume that she won’t be gone long.”

“Maybe she’s gone to collect some kind of vessel to contain your magic in, Love,” Killian speculated.

“In that case, we need to get Emma out of there.” Emma nearly burst into tears when she heard her father in the background.

Emma wiped at her eyes furiously as Regina, Killian, Henry, and her parents all appeared before her on the other side of the bars. Emma ran for the bars trying to reach and touch all of them at once.

“Okay, okay,” Charming shouted. “The reunion will have to wait until after Emma’s free. On the count of three. One, two, three!”

Emma stepped back and held up her hands sending a stream of magic at the bars that Regina matched on the other side. White and Dark magic met and sparks flew. Emma could see her family shielding their eyes against the clash of magic and, she’d be honest, if she wasn’t one of the magic wielders, she’d be doing the same. The heat and the power that coursed through her was like nothing that she’d ever known and she was suddenly aware of why the people around her had believed in her so much and for so long. Suddenly, Killian was there, at a hole in the bars big enough for her to climb through.

At that moment, Blue appeared. Quick as an adder strike, Regina shot the fairy with a blast of dark magic, knocking her back into the cell where she had imprisoned Emma. She appeared stunned as Regina shouted, “Seal the bars, Miss Swan!”

“Do it, Mom!”

Emma shot another blast of magic at the bars, making them whole again. Regina cast a binding spell both on Blue and the cell as realization dawned on their former friend and ally.

“No!” she cried.

Snow and Charming stepped forward. “Yes. You have betrayed us in the worst possible way, Blue,” Charming said, his face hard as stone. “For that, you deserve banishment and death. However, in gratitude for your part in bringing Emma home to us, your life will not end by our hand. Once your magic is gone, you will age like the rest of us. You will remain behind bars until death sets you free. This is your punishment for the crimes against our family.” He turned to his wife, who nodded in agreement with his sentence.

Blue looked from face to face, hoping to find some glimmer of regret, a sliver of affinity in anyone’s eyes, anything that she could try to manipulate to her advantage. There was none. She bowed her head as the family turned from her in her prison and walked away.

The jubilant group emerged into the sunshine. Henry was immediately gathered in Regina’s arms, where he was overjoyed to hug his adoptive mother just as tightly as she was hugging him. Emma found herself gathered in the arms of her parents, tears flowing freely as she felt her father’s hand on the back of her head. Pulling back, astonished, Emma looked down at her mother’s very pregnant belly. It hadn’t even registered in all the action of the last few minutes until Snow gathered her close in a hug that was a year in the making. More tears spilled as Emma expressed her joy at the impending birth of her brother or sister.

Finally pulling out of her parents embrace, Emma reached out for Killian. “Mom, Dad,” she began, smiling affectionately at her True Love, “Killian brought me, brought us, home.” He took her hand, a gentle smile on his face, as she turned back toward her parents.

“We know, sweetheart,” David told her. “When Killian and Henry appeared, he was just able to tell us what happened and how he got to you. Then you appeared in the mirror.”

“Did he tell you about True Love’s Kiss bringing back my and Henry’s memories?”

David’s grin split his face. “Yes, he did. And I, we, couldn’t be happier,” he said, looking at his wife.

“We will plan an engagement and welcome home ball at once,” she exclaimed, green eyes gleaming with excitement.

Emma turned resigned and amused eyes upon her pirate. “Welcome home, Love,” he said, before leaning down and capturing her lips with his own.

“Yep, I guess I am,” she agreed.

Looking around at the faces of the people who loved her, she knew that she was home. Exactly where she wanted to be.

The End

#cs ff #somewhere out there #ch2 #going home #krystal writes

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steve0discusses · 5 years

Text

Yugioh S4 Ep 14 Pt1: Rex and Weevils Ultimate Betrayal No One Gave a Damn About

Just finished watching the Superbowl, which I never ever do, and it was VERY confusing and I thought I remembered this sport but I did not. I don’t know what’s happening. I do not understand how Kansas City got that field goal on San Fransisco when their feet never touched the goal line. So, I’m just gonna...change gears completely and wrap up this long post about a VERY complicated anime that came out before some of y’all were born, instead. Today I just really wanted to feel lost.

Last episode, Yugi (the main character of the show, the one this show is named after) hella died, and Rex and Weevil decided to leave the party very, very quickly.

You’d think that the one event (Yugi’s dead) would have to do with the other event (getting the hellllll away), considering how rude and judgy Yami is, but they actually left for cards. They accidentally did a very wise decision in order to do something incredibly stupid and cancel out any wisdom they showed in pedaling as fast as they could possibly pedal away from the reincarnated ghost who just very suddenly achieved full control of a human body.

They accidentally pedaled away from every Mummy movie super villain and somehow ended up with a much more worse villain.

Like I say that this whole season is about Yugi’s crazy commute, but Rex and Weevil’s commute has just been so much more. They are just clinging to whatever vehicle is near them in order to find these legendary cards sitting somewhere in American Soil. They are so ambivalent to all the very real world terrible problems around them because they’re PRETTY SURE they’re gonna get rich. It’s like the Gold Rush but with helicopters.

Also the 49ers never rode tandem bikes, but you know they would’ve if they could’ve.

And for some, weird reason, Rafeal decides not to pick them up under his arms and toss them directly onto an unsuspecting Joey Wheeler like he just did with Yugi. Rafael and Alister decided...nah...I’ll keep these strange small manchildren.

It seems really off brand for Rafael and Alister but maybe they just got too tired to deal with it right now.

Speaking of tired--this horse.

I mean I’ll do the math eventually--not this post but maybe the next one I just did a lot of math trying to remember why the hell it’s 6 points for a goal in football--but this horse that we estimated would take over 20 days to ride to Death Valley just rode all the way back in the same day. Congratulations horse, the strongest force in all of Yugioh, (second to Yugi’s neck, holding that 70 lb necklace at all hours of the day.)

The girls seem to think that everything is OK initially, mostly because Yugi doesn’t really lose games that often, since the list of ways to beat Yugi in a card game up until now didn’t include “trick Yami into murdering the hell out of Yugi Muto.” Crazy that that actually worked, but Yami isn’t that bright.

PS please admire how chubby this horse appears in this scene.

OK I’m glad we all acknowledged the elephant in the room that was a horse last shot.

Also...maybe he didn’t hug her back because she just shoved a very sharp pyramid necklace straight into his small intestines?

(more under the cut)

I’ll spare you Transatlantacism this time.

Tea is concerned but more surprised than straight up angry. An anger which is more honed by Rebecca because Yami just killed her only friend (other than this horse) and possibly her only future husband that would ever put up with her (other than this horse.)

Like it seems kind of rude in the show out of context that everyone took a moment to lay a big dump on Yami Muto, but can you imagine if you straight up killed your twin (by accident but only by like 75% accident, lets be real) and this was your only punishment?

Like getting punched out is just how Yami treats himself every single day, so I don’t think Joey made too much of a difference in the situation. But you know, it’s Yugioh, so getting punched does is somehow the correct answer.

It was very lucky for Yami that Tea was too busy trying to console Rebecca to punch Yami before Joey got to him first because hot damn that would have sent him straight back to Death Valley.

And then I think this next exchange between Duke and Tristan was somewhat lost in translation. Please admire the censorship here. Safe for kids now.

I say this like a joke but have you seen Equinox? I live in the Bay, so trust me. Equinox is absolutely reviving the Great Leviathan. No doubt in my mind.

Anyway, Rafael and Alister hear Rex and Weevil’s plea to join the evil task force and they’re like...

...yeah, I guess you can apply, why not? No need to interview your or anything before we harass Darts with you.

Like Rafael and Alister were completely bonkers children that were driven to insanity by very extreme circumstances, and then there’s Rex and Weevil. They’re just...kind of middling at cards and that’s it.

But sure, yeah, I’m sure they’ll fit right into the completely maniacal card corporate atmosphere here at DartsCorp. I’m sure Rex and Weevil will jump out of a plane on a motorcycle and then do stunts all the way towards Atlantis Island.

Sure.

(course, now that I think of it, they did introduce themselves to Alister and Rafael by accidentally doing a stunt over a canyon onto a helicopter so...maybe they accidentally think Rex and Weevil are cool?)

Which, in hindsight, makes Mai make a hell of a lot more sense because y’all, they should be SO distracted right now, and shouldn’t let anyone in here who isn’t insane or insanely good at cards. But instead they’re like...I guess you have a duel disk, you’ll work. It’s not like there’s a line of people at the door.

Anyway, because the show has to acknowledge that there might be new viewers, they do their best to try and explain this very lengthy Yugi mechanic as if we’ve never heard it before and honestly, it just sounded like everyone was very frustrated.

Like for reals what is he wearing?

Why are there so few normal ass suits in Yugioh? Why is KAIBA the only person who knows what colors belong on a fitted suit? (And he just wears white, which isn’t a color and is always very safe but youknow it still boggles my mind that the power suit people are so into very friendly soft pastels from Gozaburo, to Pegasus, to Noah, to Darts.)

I would wear this suit to Easter Sunday. Darts just wears it every day.

And so then we get a little insight into what it takes to become an Orichalcos card champion.

While before, Darts just kinda poked Mai in the forehead and she was instantly imbued with Aqua Green Evilness, he decided to do a weird test on Rex and Weevil. Just to make sure they realllllly wanted to be here.

As if they didn’t stow away in a 18 hour flight stuffed into a handbag, hold in their piss for said 18 hours, then get shipped by accident to the Tenderloin, where they were mugged twice, and then get shoved into the trunk of Duke’s car, and then took a broken tandem bike to the hottest desert in America, where they then rode said bike off of a cliff in order to hang onto a flying helicopter.

Like I think this test was unnecessary, I think they want to be here.

But youknow, I think Darts just wanted to torture em for kicks.

And then Rex and Weevil have to grab two of these Oricalchos stones that were farting special effects and were very, very opposed to being owned by Rex and Weevil. But they managed to do it.

And uh congrats--their betrayal has begun!

And I don’t think anyone else on this show even recognized that they freakin left. Like they just kinda disappeared in Death Valley and then Duke was like “eh. They’ll find their way home.”

Kind of incredible that Joey and friends left these two stranded in Death Valley, That alone should have killed Rex and Weevil and like...Wow. Wow is Joey and co such a freakin asshole.

So don’t leave people stranded in Death Valley, they will join a card cult and freakin kill you. If the insane heat doesn’t kill them first.

And then because...I don’t know...I don’t know why, after sending his best and brightest fighters, Darts decided to downgrade and do this:

(based on a true story where a friend of mine worked as an intern in the city, and because they couldn’t pay him a living wage, he lived in a closet at said startup for nearly 2 years. Start-up culture is pretty real, folks, it’s PRETTY REAL. But, on the bright side, at least they had a shower in-house.)

So, I’m gonna go remove my contacts and try to forget how much queso I ate at that Superbowl party.

It was a lot of queso.

and if you just got here, this is a handy link to read these from the start.

PS anyone else pull the Yugioh fest in PAD? Because I have played this game...a lot over the course of 5 years and saved up over 300 free stones for several months in anticipation for this collab and then I pulled Kuriboh about 15 times. Most of you have no idea what that means, but for some of you out there, your heart just broke for me 15 times. (I did get 2 Yugis so I’m fine, but damn it) Then, bro saved up his stones and pulled Seto Kaiba, Marik, and Bakura all in a row. Freakin gotcha games, man. Freakin gotcha games.

#Yugioh #ygo #photo recap #episode recap #yami #yami muto #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #darts #rex and weevil #alister #rafael #duke devlin #tea gardner #S4 #Ep14 #rebecca hawkins #copernicus the horse

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vixenandviper · 4 years

Photo

HOLD! WHO GOES THERE? WHY, IS THAT [CATLINA JOHAR] THE [MADAME OF THE HOUSE] OF [ILLASQA]? THEY DO LOOK [ASSERTIVE] FOR A [WOMAN] OF [29] YEARS. DON’T THEY CALL [HER] THE [SAVVY AND PROTECTIVE HARLOT]? I’VE HEARD THEY’RE ALSO [SILVER TONGUED AND VICIOUS] THOUGH. DON’T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT BUT THEY DO LOOK AN AWFUL LOT LIKE [SUMMER BISHIL].

Basic Info

NAME: Catlina Johar

PRONUNCIATION: Cat-Leena Joe-Har

OCCUPATION: Madame of the Nightshade

AGE: 29

PLACE OF ORIGIN: The Red Keep

FAMILY MEMBERS: None known

Physical Description

HEIGHT: 5′2″

HAIIR COLOR: Dark chestnut with some lighter brown highlights

EYE COLOR: Dark brown

GENDER: Female

BUILD: Pete and slim

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES?: None besides a few freckles

ANY HEALTH RELATED ISSUES?: None

Personality

Catlina isn’t a sweet person. She can drip honey from her tongue if that’s what you want but it’ll cost you. Overall, she is someone who isn’t afraid to speak her mind but won’t give you any insight into her past. She does have a bit of an explosive temper but her rage is something she rarely taps into because she knows if she did, the things she’d say would probably land her in prison.

She is, however, extremely loyal to those who have been good to her. Whether that’s a simple favor or someone who has befriended her, you can be sure Catlina Johar will have your back. She is extremely protective of the people who work in her brothel and by extension, the people that work in the tavern. The tavern itself is owned by someone else but they all work together closely.

Additional Info

Catlina runs a tavern and brothel in Illasqa currently, though she was born in the Red Keep. I would love for her to have a few girls and/or guys in her care and business partners. Anything involving the brothel, essentially. As well as rival brothels or establishments too. She’s extremely protective of the girls in her care and wouldn’t let anyone do anything without their consent.

I’d love the Elliot to her Margo. He could be someone who frequents the tavern/brothel or someone who bought it with her. Essentially, he’s her only real friend and the only person other than herself she actually trusts. She would kill for him… and probably has. And he thinks of her as his best friend.

People from her past. She was born on the streets of the Red Keep, her mother was probably a prostitute herself. But an older woman took pity on Cat and took her in, essentially ‘buying’ her from her mother. She was the only person Cat ever saw as a mother but she died when she was a child. Afterwards, Cat lived on the street and probably ran with some bad crowds, fending for herself. She probably made friends enough with some of the prostitutes and convinced them to let her clean up after them or fetch them food and drinks, etc, that they gave her a little closet she could sleep in. She eventually got a job as a serving wench and worked as a prostitute when she was older. But I would love plots from her past, anyone that would have known her back then.

History

She could have ended up in the gutter, in the shit and the muck, in the poorest areas of the Red Keep were it not for her intense desire to not die. Catlina was born without a last name. She was born without a first name until she was given up, just a few days after her birth. Her mother was a prostitute and she was an accident.

Cat was given up to an old woman known around town as Mani who often sold pastries and bread and cakes to the courtesans and clients that visited the Red Door. Her mother had left her in a basket, her only words to the old baker woman were “Please… I can’t. Please take my johar.” The first few years of her life were probably the happiest she could have actually known, given all of the circumstances. The woman was old and growing frail, already into at least her mid-sixties by the time she’d been given Catlina. But she had a heart full of love and a warm home, even if it was really just a room on top of her bakery.

The woman had decided to give Catlina a real name, though she often called her ‘Johar’ as her birth mother did. She taught Catlina how to read and write over the years and some basics that she knew about keeping her business going in the bakery. She often told Cat tales of her own youth and the life she’d led with her husband who had died a few years before. It had been a joyful and full life, even if they’d never had children. And she never told Cat who her mother was, only where she worked. She always said “We’ll talk about this when you’re older.”

But older never came for Cat’s caretaker. She was returning from buying goods from the woman when the bakery was ablaze. The old woman’s body had been burned to an unrecognizable degree and all the magi putting out the fire could tell her was that they hoped she’d died before the inferno took over the home. It seemed the oven had caught the rickety old walls on fire and the rest… was left as cinders. She had once again lost everything and she realized the woman who’d taken care of her was the closest thing she had to a mother.

For weeks, the girl managed to survive on the streets, doing odd chores for various business owners who knew her caretaker. They gave her a few coins, enough for her to buy some bread and fruit and occasionally would let her sleep in their store rooms. It was enough for her, she only ever wanted to survive.

Catlina found herself on the streets during a storm and afterwards, the girl became terribly ill. She remembers falling asleep on the streets and later feeling nothing but warmth. She didn’t know that’s what death would feel like but she was certain she was dying. And perhaps it was Jvala greeting her herself. Welcoming her back into the volcanic earth that she grew.

When she came to, she found it wasn’t Jvala’s warmth welcoming her into the After, but rather someone physical and real and towering and… she was terrified at first. Arvasdarr happened to be the one to find her, broken and sick and cold as she was in the streets. And through whatever hope or goodness or pity he had left in his heart, he took her in and helped her recover. She was with him for a few months at the most, and he’d never quite felt human. She’d asked him very straightforward if he was a dragon. He laughed at her but that was all the answer she needed. Even as a child of just ten years old, she knew he needed his freedom. And he needed to fly free more than anything. And he couldn’t do that looking after a kid. So she went to the place her Mani had mentioned, the Red Door.

No child of ten should have seen the things Catlina saw there. But she begged a few of the girls to give her chores, errands, let her clean, anything, if they’d just let her stay in one of the small store closets. They allowed this little trespass as long as she stayed out of their way. So Catlina went to Arvasdarr and the two parted ways. It was for the best, although he might have been the closest she’d ever find to a father figure.

The years drug on for Catlina, she cleaned, cooked, ran errands, bought groceries, mopped up bodily fluids and even helped the women at the brothel kick drunk men out of their rooms. And she stayed out of sight when she could and out of the way the rest of the time. The women there kicked her a few coins back every time she did them a favor and Catlina began saving more and more of it, buying only as much food as she needed to survive, the rest she stockpiled in order to one day leave the Red Keep.

She had dreams, she wanted a small house somewhere on a beach maybe, and she wanted to live by what she could provide herself. If she found a family along the way, she might be happy to make her own, but all she needed, perhaps, was independence and her own indomitable willpower.

Catlina started servicing the clients too sometime around fifteen or sixteen. She was making more money and paid for a room at the brothel out of her cut. Still, she scrimped and saved, occasionally fighting with one other girl there specifically, but she paid her as little mind as possible. She knew it would solve nothing and get her nowhere near what she wanted.

At eighteen, she left the Red Keep. Her first stop was a three year long stint in East Reach before she finally had enough money saved to book passage and move permanently to Illasqa. She found work there at what was then the Shrieking Clam. But she was motivated and she put in more than her fair share of hard work. On top of taking clients, she did what she could around the tavern and inn to make it function and look better.

She also met Avitej Kumara there. If only she’d known how much her life would change just by meeting him.

The first rule for any whore is to never fall in love. And perhaps she’d broken that rule the moment they’d locked eyes. But she would not realize the extent of the hold he had on her for many years. He was wild then, seemingly untamable. But he’d come often to the Shrieking Clam, it was a favorite haunt of his apparently, and when he’d laid eyes on her, there’d been no one else he wanted to claim.

The next few years were a whirlwind for Catlina. She quickly gained the previous owner of the Shrieking Clam’s favor by being hardworking and having the business tact and savvy that he was looking for. He was aging and wanted someone to take over for him. He trained her on everything she needed to properly manage a brothel and as she stepped further into the role of leadership, the place really started to turn around, and she took less and less clients.

When the man finally retired, Catlina was twenty six. By that point, she only ever took one client when he came around, and she had fixed and rebuilt all of the broken parts of the brothel. She renamed it the Nightshade and slowly, but surely, it had become less and less of a den of debauchery, and more and more a palace of pleasure. If it was any other sort of business, it would be respectable outside of Loqoala, even admired and favored.

But that was Calina Johar’s life. Hard work. The fate she was given overcome by sheer will but the fate she wanted still so far out of reach.

#kc.intro #finally posting this after literally 28 years

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mage-cat · 4 years

Text

First Steps Home - Plan? What Plan?

The Rebellion sends a team to rescue Glimmer only for the team to discover that they are now part of an escape plan already in motion.

Part 2 of the Mending Bridges series. Start from the beginning here.

Story under the cut. ~1900 words. Link to AO3 through here.

Mara’s ship wasn’t designed to carry a large crew. That meant to when the Rebellion went to rescue Glimmer, it had to be a bare-bones strike team. Bow and Entrapta were the only ones who had any confidence with new tech on the fly, something Prime’s ship was sure to have in abundance, and Adora would be there to lead them.

Bow, who had taken up piloting duties, had been waiting for Adora to let him in on the details of the plan, figuring that something in Adora’s training--either with the Horde or Light Hope--had given her insight into what they needed to do to at least begin the rescue. He began to feel uneasy as the ship announced that they had left Etheria’s atmosphere and he still had no idea what the next step would be after finding Horde Prime’s ship.

“Um, Adora? How does a spaceship sneak up on another spaceship?”

“How much different can it be to little boat sneaking up on a big boat?”

Bow gestured at a relevant display. “We’re using tech to find Horde Prime’s ship. Isn’t it likely that he has tech that can see us the same way?”

A voice came from somewhere embedded in the ship’s controls. “Message incoming. Would you care to answer?”

Adora froze for a moment before responding, “I guess, yes.”

The ship’s largest screen was filled with a pale face, the eyes green from edge to edge. “You must be the delegation we were told to expect. Please, proceed to the docking bay. We will inform Queen Glimmer to meet you. Please, leave all weapons on your ship.” The voice was bland and clearly assumed there could be no other explanation for who they were as the face disappeared from the screen as soon as the last word was uttered.

“Was that Hordak?” Bow asked.

“No,” said Entrapta with certainty. “Hordak’s a clone, but one Horde Prime considered... nonstandard. At a guess, I would say that was an example of a more typical result of the cloning process.”

“I wonder how many of those Prime keeps around,” Adora said.

The com screen began to display a map directing their ship to the mentioned docking bay. As they flew closer, the view of the ever-growing ship began to be overwhelming. Only in space could something be so big and still move.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving our weapons behind,” Bow said.

“They said Glimmer would be there to meet us,” Adora replied. “I’m hoping our luck improves and we’ll be able to just grab her and leave.”

“I don’t think the odds of that are very good,” said Entrapta.

---

Whatever hope they had of the mission being simple died when they saw exactly who was meeting them when they got off the ship. Glimmer was there, and she was standing, back straight in her most regal posture, at Horde Prime’s right hand.

He addressed her while never looking away from the new arrivals. “Queen Glimmer, would you inform me of who I will be dealing with?”

Glimmer’s voice was nearly as bland as the earlier clone’s had been as she said, “Horde Prime, these are Adora, She-Ra of Etheria and Administrator of the technical systems that run throughout the planet, Bow of the Makers’ Guild, and Entrapta of Dryl, two the Etheria’s brightest technical minds. Entrapta is also the eldest of the Etherian royals whose realms have had dealings with the Horde. All of them have held leadership positions equal to my own in the Rebellion.”

He focused on the purple-haired woman. “Would this be the same Entrapta that my wayward clone was so intrigued by?”

“Yes, Horde Prime, the same,” Glimmer answered. Adora motioned towards the ship. Glimmer gave a tiny shake of her head and spoke again. “Sire, I would not presume to tell you what to do, but I will vouch for Entrapta’s good behavior while she is here and advise you that treating her differently from the rest of the delegation might prolong the process they are here for. Might I take them to my quarters for a briefing before we discuss negotiations?”

“You may.”

Glimmer approached the three and held her arms out in front of her. “I suggest we go the quick way.” They all knew what that was a cue for.

---

One teleport later Glimmer’s face broke into a grin. “How was my performance?”

Bow hugged her. “Unnerving!”

“I’ve been getting tutoring in placating megalomaniacs.” After returning the hug for a moment, she stepped back. “He thinks you’re here to negotiate surrender by the way.”

Before any of them could properly react to that, a delighted version of Hordak’s voice came from a gray blur descending from somewhere near the ceiling. “Entrapta!”

“Imp!” Entrapta cried as she caught the creature.

He opened his mouth, releasing a gentle female voice. “You’re safe here.” The voice twisted into sarcasm, causing the faces of the three to shift in recognition. “Prime’s been magnanimous and promised us our privacy”

“Hey, Adora.” The same voice came from a previously unnoticed corner of the room, now attached to its original source. “Bow.” Catra hesitated. “Entrapta.”

Adora began to launch herself at her, but Glimmer’s arm across her chest brought her up short.

“Stop. We would all be dead right now if it wasn’t for Catra.”

“You trust people too easily when you think they’re useful.”

“I trust my truth spells.”

“After everything she’s done?”

“She can help get my mother back. The way things went down with the portal, she knows things no one else does.” Glimmer paused as if considering if she should say the next thing. “While under the truth spell, she also said my dad’s alive.”

Bow and Adora exchanged a meaningful look, and he said, “He was on Beast Island. He’s holding down the fort at Bright Moon now. He and Shadow Weaver have a history, so he’s confined her to her room unless she’s being supervised by at least one person capable of magic.”

“Thank goodness. It saves me the trouble.”

Adora’s face hardened again. “I thought you were enjoying being Shadow Weaver’s new favorite.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so cozy with her if, instead of vaguely talking about how evil she was, you had given me some concrete examples. You know, like the fact that she had tortured children in front of you!”

“She had tortured you!”

“She didn’t do it for over a decade starting from when I was six!”

“Sparkles,” Catra broke in. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but is this the time?”

Glimmer took a steadying breath. “No, it’s not.” She turned to face Catra properly. “Think we can get the plan to work now?”

“Best chance we’re ever going to get. Entrapta, I am so glad you are alive.”

Entrapta clutched Imp closer. “No thanks to you.”

Catra bit her lip. “I thought you were turning into my enemy, and I panicked. Only an idiot would underestimate you and the damage you could do to someone if you thought you had to. I’m sorry. It would have been smarter for me to try to stay on your good side. I want to hear your theories on some things.”

Her grip on Imp relaxed a fraction. “Your potential data on the portal tech is intriguing...”

“Portal later. I promise. We need your theories on something more pressing.” Catra held out her hand, and a glowing amber orb the size of her fist began to hover above it. “How am I suddenly doing this? Could the Heart be drawing energy from more than just the planet? Could it be pulling magic from the people?”

Entrapta leaned toward the light. “Fascinating. That would explain the metric I couldn’t make sense of.” She looked up at Catra’s face “On Beast Island, there was a First Ones database, including a bunch of profiles for potential colonist species. Biological requirements, potential for dissent against imperial rule if allowed to remain on their home planets, and this one calculation that could have been how effectively they could power the Heart.”

“We know releasing all of the Heart’s energy the way it was designed would be bad, but could we return that energy back to the people?”

“I would have to take a closer look at the Heart, or at least its schematics.”

“Wait,” Adora said. “The Heart is doing what?”

Catra turned to her, the sphere of light disappearing.“Short version. Best that we can tell? Magic should be way more common in the Etherian population than it is. Anyone on the surface gets drained of their power the same way the magic of the planet itself gets collected.”

Glimmer continued. “That’s probably why Mystacor is airborne. The Princesses still have some of our magic because we are connected to the Heart through the Runestones.”

“Just some of your magic?” Entrapta asked.

“Oh yeah.” Glimmer moved her cape to one side. Her wings--which, like Queen Angella’s, were always more like solid energy that matter--still didn’t match the majestic sweep of her mother’s, but she wouldn’t be readily hiding them under a shirt again either. “I have definitely been running at a lower charge than I should have been.”

Catra spoke again. “Alright. We have a plan of action once we get back to the planet. Now to get out of here and over there.”

“Right,” said Glimmer. “Bow, Entrapta, Catra will lead you to do some industrial sabotage and, if we’re lucky, a little theft. Adora, you and I are going to go hit some things very hard. We can talk on the way.”

“Why can’t we just teleport to the ship and leave?” Adora asked.

Catra answered, “We try that and Prime will just use his transporter tech to beam us back here, and he won’t be near as polite afterwards. Hence the sabotage.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t trust any authority higher than my own, and Horde Prime thinks he is the highest authority in the universe.”

“Makes sense to me,” said Entrapta.

Adora glared at the person she had once called her best friend. “I’ll be watching you.”

“Not until Sparkles takes you to the rendezvous point.”

As the shimmer of Glimmer and Adora teleporting away faded, Catra turned to her new teammates. “Alright, first step is to see if we can steal ourselves a clone. Hordak thought conquering a planet would impress Horde Prime, but the only thing Prime is ever impressed with is himself. He doesn’t like his clones being people. As soon as we were on the ship he put Hordak under… I don’t think it was a mindwipe. I think it was a personality suppressor or something. If anyone can wake him up,” she pulled something out of a pocket and pressed it into Entrapta’s hand, “it’s you.” It was the crystal Entrapta had used to power the armor she had made for Hordak. “He was really broken up about it when he thought you had betrayed him. When he found out I had lied about that, he tried very hard to kill me for it. I may not understand what you two have going on, but I understand that it’s important to you two.”

Bow said, “So step one of your plan is...”

The look on Catra’s face said she couldn’t quite believe what she was about to say either. “To save Hordak.”

Next Chapter: Saving Who? >

#she ra #fanfiction #glimmer #catra #adora #bow #entrapta #cat writes

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years

Text

The life of Liberty in Memories

Request: Can I request a Steve one-shot (or mini-series) where he is in love with the Reader (who is Bucky's older twin sister) and vice versa? During WW2 she was chosen as a female candidate for the super-soldier program (dubbed Liberty Prime), but unlike Steve, she ended up in Hydra's hands alongside Bucky, where they were made into lethal weapons + R was given additional powers. Besides being an enhanced super-soldier, R is a genius (like Shuri and Tony) and the most dangerous assassin ever. - @witch-of-letters Warnings: mentions of addiction & withdrawal, mentions of physical and mental pain

M A S T E R L I S T

// Falling into snow-white mountains was all you remembered. Then screams. Your own screams and the one of your brother. Your brother that was just trying to help you. “James?” “Y/N Elizabeth Barnes. You’re finally awake. We’ve been waiting for you.” “Where am I?” “Liberty Prime sounded like something Hydra could use in the upcoming decades. Don’t you think?” “NO!” //

With a gasp, you woke up in your cell, a pretty one compared to the ones you’ve been in years ago. Since you had agreed to be The Liberty Soldier to get free of the giant amounts of benzodiazepine being pumped into you. You had slowly left the withdrawal phase, didn’t get psychosis symptoms anymore and your mental issues were only connected to simply being with Hydra at this point. The only times you still got reset without drugs involved, was before big missions.

You hadn’t seen your brother in years. He could only remember you half of the time anyway. But normally you’d seen him every few weeks somewhere in the facility or in the cryo room you both were frozen in. You didn’t dare think about the worst and at this point, it really wouldn’t make a difference. He’d be better of dead than with Hydra and you knew that. Project Insight, something you had worked on for a long time, was the last time he walked past you into the next mission. Maybe he went down with the ships. There was a file given to you later that day. Mission: Killing the rouge Winter Soldier. There was no change in your behavior. Your brother was alive, he was well. You would either gladly die by his hand and be free from the brainwashing, or hopefully come to your senses early enough to make a quick way out and vanish with his help.

“42, 19, Snow, Liberty, 18, Howling, Prime, Afraid, Bloodred, Genius.”

Everything went black and white. ___________________ Steve had a cut in his forehead, Bucky a knife in his left shoulder. “Steve?” “Yeah?” “That’s my sister.” “Are you sure.” “Yes. 100%” “Knock her out. NOW!”

___________________ With a gasp you woke up in a white room, a bag of dextrose in saline solution hanging over you. You were still hazy from the trigger words. This wasn’t Hydra headquarters. Had you failed the mission? Were you being pumped full of BZD again? “She’s awake.” you heard through the wall and shortly after the door opened. “Y/N.” your brother. “J- Are you here to-” you were afraid to be punished. “Hey, no. It’s safe here. I promise. They won’t do anything to you again.” he slowly came closer. His demeanor very soft and the only thing about him reminding you of Hydra being the long hair. “Do you...remember me?” he asked concerned. “You’re the biggest pain in the ass, of course!” you dared to smile. “You’re in Wakanda. They will keep you safe and get the trigger words out of your brain, okay?” he touched your arm gently. “Am I allowed to...hug?” you whispered. “Of course, you’re free here,” he said pulling you closer, letting the floodgates open. “I’m so sorry, that I didn’t get you earlier. I didn’t know where they had brought you,” he said with his warm hand going over your back. “I missed you. But I did so many of these things without the trigger words. I just, I couldn’t bare the drugs anymore and-” “You didn’t want to do it. That’s all that matters. It’s okay. You’re safe.” The door opened again, a big blonde man coming in. “Y/N?” “Steve.” Soft smiles were interchanged, “We’re gonna get you back up. Promise.” ____________________ “A female super-soldier. That’s new.” Shuri smiled at you after you both were introduced to each other. “How...are you gonna get the words out of my brain?” “I just need to find the specific passage in your brain that sends you into the PTSD-like shock,” she explained. “Tried figuring out ways to do this while I was imprisoned.” you smiled and got a surprised smile back. “She’s always been a bit of a genius. The serum just enhanced that.” Steve grinned watching this conversation unfold. “Well, let’s get started.” ____________________ The compound was the first thing you saw after getting out of Wakanda and get free from all the charges against you and Hydra. “You like it?” Steve grinned down at you, his hand on your shoulder. “I could get used to it. I like the robot talking, who made this?” “Me.” Tony Stark came around the corner with a StarkPad in his hand. “Tony, Y/N. Y/N, Tony.” You shook hands, “It’s nice to finally meet you, you’ve been a big inspiration for the things I learned secretly when I was under Hydra’s influence.” “Glad to hear. Welcome to the compound, get comfortable, dodge Pepper when she’s mad.” he grinned before continuing his route. “He’s nicer than you told me he’d be.” you grinned up at Steve. “You haven’t heard him rant about politics.” he rolled his eyes. “Finally show me where I’ll sleep, blondie.” you giggled. ____________________ Steve had always been crushing on you back in the day. But back then he was small, back then Bucky would’ve hated him for admitting it, back then he was kind of a coward. The smart strategic thinking he had didn’t only come from his size but also from you. Later, when you both had been through the projects making you super-soldiers, you had been in the Howling Commandos together. Steve slowly falling for Peggy, while you kept your emotional side hidden around the men. Now that he looked at you he realized that the serum hadn’t changed you too much. You just looked like a more toned version of your past self. What got enhanced was your genius mind and your abilities as a hand-to-hand fighter and overall assassin. He understood again why he was so whipped for you back then and he had the feeling of crushing on you bubbling somewhere in his chest again. “Cap? You’re staring.” you smiled at him, looking up from your book. “Sorry. Was in thought.” he tried to hide his blushing and continued what he was doing before.

____________________ “Are you ready to get back in the field?” Tony was talking to you. “Yes, but ease me into it a bit.” “Are you sure Y/N?” Steve frowned at you and you sent him a little smile and a nod. “Great, get ready to snipe, Barnes,” Tony said and you were in your room in seconds. You weren’t on a mission -with your mind completely clear- in decades, of course, you weren't sure about it. But somehow you would have to get into it. “Get ready for overseeing a hostage situation. We have a deal with them. Money against a man.” “Noted!” ___________________ “Have eyes on the target,” you mumbled into the communication device on top of the pillar you had positioned yourself on with your marksman rifle. You listened in on the conversation you were overseeing, Steve, two heavily armed men, a hostage, and a woman talking to Steve. The comms went out and the woman stepped aside. “Dammit.” you muttered just in time to see Steve fighting one of the armed men and the hostage being brought back to the car by the other man. In a split second you aimed for the man with the hostage, a perfect headshot had him down one breath later. You aimed back at Steve, thinking he’d have the situation under control but he was damn near to being choked into unconsciousness. Aimed, locked, shot, another bullet straight through the forehead. The woman still with the hostage tried to run but you had different plans, taking your knife, jumping down from the pillar and bolting at her. “Guess you’re the hostage now,” you growled with a knife held to her throat from behind.

___________________ With the woman being interrogated by Natasha and the man being cared for by Clint, you had time to go to your room and throw your equipment into a corner. 4 knocks, “Yeah?” “It’s me.” “Come in, Steve,” you said putting off your bulletproof vest. “Thank you for watching my back.” he gave you a shy smile. “Thought you’d be better at not getting choked.” you grinned, getting off your thigh holster. “Your brother’s worse.” he chuckled watching you take off your shirt, turning red. “It’s the 21st century, Stevie. People wear what I wear right now on the street.” you laughed squishing his face on your way to the closet. “I don’t have that with Nat.” his hands went up. Internally he had an entire awakening about absolutely still having the hots for you. Fuck. “So just with me, huh?” you smirked after you had the cozy hoodie on. “Guess so. Maybe it’s just habit with you.” he sent a tiny smile. “Maybe it is.” you were standing right in front of him, reading him like an open book. He was so bad at this. Always had been. Although you needed to admit that he got a little better at the flirting part. You knew he had a crush on you in the 40s, you just didn’t have a crush back. Then the war came, Peggy came, you “died” and he “died”. And now you had a hot blushing mess in front of you that you were actually kinda into. He shook himself out of the stare he was holding with a, “Still need to get rid of my suit and write a mission report.” “How about I help you with the suit?” you whispered, tracing over his chest. He swallowed, not really sure what to do. This was a possibility he hadn’t calculated in. The chance of you actually being different about this now. “Uh, I mean, if you don’t mi-” his head was yanked down and lips were on his in a split second. Cherry lip balm, the taste of blood and the smell of your fresh clothing were all he registered. “You’re bad at hiding your crushes. Always have been.” you grinned still close to him. “You knew?” “Of course, you are the worst at pretending.” you chuckled, hands now snaking around your lower back. “Did Bucky know?” he grinned. “No, he was totally oblivious to that and I’m kinda glad about that. You have the best friendship. Now shut up and kiss me, idiot.” you said and sighed when he finally took initiative. Your back was pressed against the wall in a heartbeat, a tongue between your lips. Your hands went to the zippers and buttons of his suit, getting it off painfully slow. His hands wandered under your hoodie and you stopped him, “I just said I’ll help you with the suit.” “Y/N.” he gave you a serious stare before you chuckled with a head shake. “You got better with girls, I see.” you couldn’t continue what you were about to say since he picked you up and had you land on your bed. _____________________ Sneaking behind the team’s backs was hard but manageable for the first few weeks. But there had to be the moment where everything didn’t go as planned. “You’re back,” you whispered, looking up at him. Both of you in front of your room, the hallway empty. “We were done early.” he smiled and pushed your hair behind your ear. “Missed you.” you pouted and had a hand caressing your face shortly after. “I missed you too, darling.” he leaned down for a short kiss. “Cuddles and Sushi?” you grinned, still holding him by his jacket. “Sounds like a dream to me.” he gave you heart eyes before you went on your tiptoes for another kiss. Someone cleared their throat a few meters away and you drove apart. Your brother. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he looked at both of you with a stern look. “We thought you might be mad,” you said and Steve nodded. “I would never be mad at my two favorite people in the world being happy with each other...unless my best friend breaks my sister's heart.” his smile vanished with the last sentence and was replaced with a serious look at Steve. “In my defense. She was the one kissing me first,” he said holding his hands up, making you giggle. “And you were pretty oblivious to his crush on me all those years.” you grinned at your brother suddenly having a surprised face. “C’mon Buck, how many times did you talk to me and I didn’t listen when she was in the room.” “Now that you say it. Quite a lot of times.” he grinned. _______________________ “Y/N Elizabeth Barnes-Rogers! You are NOT pregnant, WHAT!?” an offended and happy smile was sent at you by your brother that had just heard the news from Steve and you. “You’re gonna be an uncle, James,” you said before squealing and being hugged tight. “Oh my god, Liz.” he couldn’t stop hugging you and swayed side to side with you. “We’re officially a family instead of a group of crackheads now.” you giggled. “I hope she gets your brain and none of his recklessness. Cause I’m not babysitting another Steve Rogers,” he said looking at both of you. “All we can do is try.” you grinned. He looked down on you and shook his head still in shock, “You don’t know what’s coming at you, little bean.”

M A S T E R L I S T

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fangirlinsweden · 5 years

Text

Never Mess with Voodoo Part 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Voodoo, magical things, money problems, angst

Word Count: about 3 200 words

Square Filled: Fairytale AU for @star-spangled-bingo

Summary: Prince Steven visits New Orleans and gets tangled with a Voodoo Curse and running for his life. Y/N gets messed up in his curse and together they try to find a way to break the course and free their new friends they made during the journey.

A/N: New series for the @star-spangled-bingo. I think it will be about 5 parts. It is based on the Disney movie The Princess and the frog. But it is my twist of things.

Also today it’s been a year since Stan Lee past away and I wrote this series him in mind. So I have written him into the story, as a cameo.

I would like to thank @allaboutthebooz for her support and motivation. And I would also like to thank @kaunis-sielu and @banditthewriter for there insight in how they write and deal with things. If you have not read any of there work, you really should check it out!!

You walked out of the bank and just stopped, with no idea where to go. Your dreams about opening your own restaurant had fallen through again. Those stuffy men in suits at the bank did not think you had what it took, so they did not give you a loan. It had been your father and your dream since you were a little girl. He had taught you how to cook and every penny he and your mother had saved had gone to send you to the best culinary schools. When you got home from school ready to work and save the money to open your place, your father had been sick. Every penny you and your mother had made had gone to his hospital bills. After a year’s sickness, your father had died. It had left you paralyzed, but your mother had pushed you to go after your dream. It had taken some time, but you had almost come up with all the money you needed to buy the old sugar-mill by the river, you had hoped to get a loan to make up for the last money to buy the place. What were you going to do? You did not want to tell your mother what had happened. You were so close and still so far away from your dreams. What if someone else bought the place? No time in dwelling on that right now, you needed to go to work at the cafe. You walked through the streets of New Orleans, but this time the music and cheerful people did not make you smile. All you could think of was when were you going to get your break? You were tired of always working so hard. But that was not going to stop you from going after your dreams. You arrived at the café just in time for your shift. The owner greeted you with a smile as you walked over to start working directly. The café was almost empty now, but you knew that the lunch crowd would come in soon and then you would need to work fast, efficient and smiling for the next hours. You greeted the cook and walked over to your first customer. It was an older couple that you knew well because they were regulars at the cafe. “Hey there, Mr and Mrs Stark,” you greeted them. “Hey, Y/N,” Mrs Stark said and Mr Stark nodded at you. You saw the papers for their missing grandson at the table. “You still haven't found him?” you asked. Mrs Stark looked away with tears in her eyes. Mr Stark shook his head. “It has been a year ago he disappeared in a few days,” Mrs Stark mumbled. You put a hand on her shoulder. “You will find him soon,” you said with determination in your voice. “You are one of the only ones that still believe,” Mr Stark and gave you a small smile. “People think it is time we give up,” Mrs Stark says and shakes her head. “But neither we or our son and his wife are going to give up until we get him back.” You squish her shoulder and see the face on your boss. You knew he hated that you talked so much with your customers. “I know you will find him,” You said and took up your orderpadd. They smile at you and give you their order. You walked over to the order wheel and put up their order. The door opened and MJ ran into the café. She was late and you knew that the boss would give her a stern talking to about it.

You looked around the café and saw that at another table sat another of your regulars, Stan writing in one of his notebooks he always carried around with him. He was one of your favourite costumes and he always brightens your day with his motivational words. And the fact that he was a big tipper did not make it worse. He was truly one of a kind and you could sometimes you joined him if he came in on your breaks. Sometimes you talked about your dreams to open your own place, other times you talked about the characters he was writing for his stories and sometimes you talked about the world. “Hey, Stan,” you smiled at him. Stan looked up from his notebook. “Hey, Y/N,” he said. “Fantastic day isn’t it.” “Hmmm,” you said and looked away. You really did not want to bring up your meeting at the bank. “What happened?” Stan wondered. He was always good at reading you. “I went to the bank this morning,” you mumbled. “I did not get the loan.” “I am so sorry,” Stan said and put a hand on your arm. “I would really like to talk to you about something.” You nodded and then your boss came over to the table. “I don’t pay you to stay and talk to every customer for a long time,” Carl said with a scold on his face. You nodded, not wanting to get into a fight with your boss. “Stan, what do you want to eat?” You asked and your boss stayed beside you tapping his foot on the floor. “Surprise me,” Stan said. “You know what I like.” He gave you a wink and you smiled at him as you made your way up to the counter. Just a couple of months more, and then you would have the money you needed to leave this job and the other place you worked at. Keep it together, you told yourself. You placed Stans order then get to work on the other tables, the café was quickly filling up with the lunch crowd. You served the Starks and then Stan. An hour later when Stan paid he gave you a big tip as usually. Plus he gave you the parting words “Excelsior”. You had known Stan long enough to know that this meant something like “Ever upward”. It was a word you had taken to your heart.

The day moved on like always and at the end of your shift, your friend Virginia came into the cafe with her father Robert. “Did you see, Y/N!? Did you see?!” she squealed at you. “Virginia, please calm down,” Robert tried to get Virginia to sit down, but she did a kind of dance around you with the newspaper clenched in her hand. “What should I have seen?” You asked and looked at the newspaper. “Prince Steven from Maldonia is coming to New Orleans this weekend,” Virginia was giddy. “Where is Maldonia?” you asked. “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Virginia said finally sitting down. “I am going to get me a prince like I always dreamed I would.” You nodded, Virginia had always dreamed about it, and you should know. You had been friends your entire life. Practically raised together, even though Virginia was born rich and you poor. Your mother was a seamstress and had always made every dress for Virginia’s mother Madeline. And when Madeline died your mother had continued to make dresses for Virginia. You always joined your mother at her job and you and Virginia always played when your mother was working. “Aren't you going to tell her the other news,” Robert asked Virginia. “Dad, it is hardly news,” Virginia said, but still looked at you with a gleam in her eyes. Robert sent her a look. “Fine, Dad has been crowned the King of Mardi Grass for the fifth year running, and I am going to be the princess again,” Virginia smiled. “Dad is throwing a Mardi Gras Masquerade the night before Mardi Gras and he has invited Prince Steven.” “That sounds like fun,” you said and tried to smile at your friend. A masquerade sounded like a lot of work. This meant you needed to find a costume. “I am going to look so good that the prince can’t take his eyes off me,” Virginia smiled, but you felt like it was a kind of fake smile. It kind of did not reach her eyes. But in the next moment, it was gone, maybe you just imagine something. Virginia and her father ordered.

When you came back with their order a few minutes later, they were still discussing Prince Steven and the party. Robert took a big bite of his sandwich. “You know, Virginia, Y/N probably get a bigger chance than you at catching a prince, with her cooking,” Robert jokes. “I mean, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.” with that he patted his own stomach. Virginia looked from her father to you. “Oh, I know,” she cried out. “Y/N, I need a thousand of your famous Beignets.” She took out her father's wallet from his jacket pocket and took out a whole bunch of bills and handed it to you. “Will this be enough?” “Yes, Virginia it will be enough,” you laugh and took the money. In your head, you counted out how much money that would be left when you bought all the ingredients for your beignets. It was more money then you would make this day working at this café. You continued your day with a big smile on your face. Maybe you did not need to get the bank loan after all.

~ *~*~*~ *~*~*~ *~*~*~ *~ *~*~*~ *~*~*~

A few days later, Steve stepped out on the landing of the boat. He took a deep breath and smiled. He was finally in New Orleans, the city known for Mardi Gras, Gumbo and where life always seems to be a party. “Prince Steven,” a voice half screamed from behind him. He recognized the voice as Brock, his server. Brock knew he hated being called Prince Steven, he wanted to be called Steve, but still, Brock insisted on saying Prince Steven. Sometimes Steve wished he was not a prince. He wished he could just be a regular man, to be somewhere where nobody knew his name. He knew that he had a lot of duties to do here in New Orleans, but he wanted to go out on the streets and listen to the music that was played and if he could find a quiet place he wanted to sit down and paint this vibrant town. But no, he was the prince, duties before anything else. “Prince Steven,” Brock was no beside him. “Yes, Brock,” Steve said and looked at the man. He still did not understand that his parents had hired him. Brock was a cunning man who clearly had his eyes set up high. “Remember you are here to make a good impression and get trade deals for your country,” Brock scolded. “We do not have time to run around the city.” Steve decided then and there that first chance he got he was going to sneak off. Brock had a couple of Steve’s bag with him, but Steve saw the most important bag for him on top. The bag that had his sketching materials. He knew he needed to distract Brock and get that bag. He looked around, trying to find something. That's when he saw it. The perfect distraction. A group of musicians was coming to the docks, and Steve needed to do was to go there and listen to them, and then disappear in the crowd.

Steve manages to get away from Brock and for four wonderful free hours he had been exploring the city and getting some sketches down on paper. He was happy and felt free for the first time in ages. He was currently sitting on a bench in the French Quarters sketching of the house in front of him with the balconies and flowers. He heard someone clears his throat and immediately knew that Brock had found him. “I been looking for you, Prince Steven,” Brock says with a hard voice dripping with poison. “I figured, so I have been avoiding you,” Steve answers and starts walking away. Brock follows him. “We can’t be late for the masquerade. You need to make a good impression with Robert, he is the king of Mardi Gras. He has some serious pull with the important people in this city,” Brock says trying not to grit his teeth. “How can we leave here? Just listen to the music,” Steve says swirling around. The street musicians are playing a happy jazz tune. “You need to get a job or marry someone who is wealthy if you are going to continue like this. Your parents are going to disown you,” Brock seemed pleased at the idea. “Yeah, yeah,” Steve was not so concerned. He was in a city full of music and art. He felt like home. Like he could finally fit in. “We need to go now,” Brock insists. The come to the corner of a building and out of the shadows walks a tall man, with a bone face. “How are you doing, Gentlemen. Let me introduce myself I am Dr Schmidt,” the man says and bows down. He hands Steve a business card. It said: ‘Dr Schmidt, New Orleans best at Tarot card readings, poisons, charms and spells. Making your wildest dreams come true.’ The man started leading Steve into the ally, but he did not notice it until they were in it. Brock was trailing behind, a bit wary, but interested in the: Making your wildest dreams come true part. “I can see here in your palm that you are a royalty and a man of the arts,” Dr Schmidt says. “Or you read the newspaper today,” Steve says with a shrug, he did not believe in magic. “You should not make fun of me,” Dr Schmidt sneers. “I am more powerful than you could ever imagine. I got friends on the other side and I can make anything happen with their help.” Steve turns to leave when Dr Schmidt takes a hold of him and drags him into his shop.

Brock follows behind with big eyes. “Sit down at my table and I will read your future,” Dr Schmidt says. Steve shakes his head, he did not believe in these things, but Dr Schmidt seemed to be insisting and maybe it was better just to let him get on with it. Steve and Brock sit down at the table and Dr Schmidt sits opposite to them. He scuffles a deck of cards that had appeared out of nowhere. Brock's eyes gleamed. “Take three cards and I will tell you all there is to know,” Dr Schmidt says and holds out the cards as a sunfan. Brock almost throws himself at the cards and pulls three. Steve is a bit slower but pulls three as well. They put the cards upside-down on the table. Dr Schmidt starts with Steve’s cards. The first one is of a big castle. “You were born royal to a family of royals,” Dr Schmidt says and Brock nods his head because it was true. The card changes into a picture of Steve with his parents and brother. “Neat trick,” Steve says and Dr Schmidt looks annoyed. He turns the next card. The card was of a man with women on his arms and money spilling from his pockets. “Your lifestyle is high. With your parent's fortunes,” Dr Schmidt says and then the card changes to his parent's disapproving looks. “Your parents are disappointed in your lifestyle and has threatened to cut you off. All you want in life is to be free to do what you want and without the royal pressure.” Steve looks down at the table. This was almost scary. All of that was things that were not known knowledge. “A solution would be to marry rich,” Brock smirks and the card changes to a young woman standing with a lot of gold and gems around her. “But then he would be bound for the rest of his life,” Dr Schmidt says. Steve just shrugs. This was nothing new. “And to be free you need money. As much so green so you could hop around as you please and with nobody keeping you bund down.” With this Dr Schmidt turns the last card. It shows a man with a lot of green around him. Green money around him. “What I see in your future is green, so much green,” Dr Schmidt says with a grin. Steve takes the card in his hands and looks at it closer. The man in the picture is smiling, dancing around in the green money. “Now to you,” Dr Schmidt says and turns with a grin to Brock, who rubs his hands together.

Dr Schmidt turns the first card, which shows a man being told what to do, first by family and then the picture changes to a picture of royals doing the same. “You been bossed with your whole life, by your parents, siblings and your employers.” Dr Schmidt turns around the next card and lets out a hissing breath. On the card is a man slumping for his bride, who has a determined face and pointing on things. “If you ever got married you would not be in charge, because your wife would boss you around.” Brock seems disturbed by this. He looks with hope on the last card. Dr Schmidt takes his time to turn the card. “But your future shows that you can be just what you dream about. A man in power and who gets to boss around everyone he likes.” Brock takes the card and it shows a man with a crown on his head, looking happy and who is pointing at a man in the background. Dr Schmidt stands between them. “Now shake my hand,” He says and holds out his hands, one to each of them. Steve looks down at the hand in front of him. Why should he shake Dr Schmidt's hand? He did not understand it. Brock gladly takes Dr Schmidt's hand. “Come on boy, take my hand,” Dr Schmidt says and Steve takes it. “Yes,” Dr Schmidt says. “Lets the transformation start.” Before Steve can get up out of his chair something is holding him back and makes him stuck in the chair. Shadows play in the room and it gets smoky in the room. There is chanting in the air and Steve can feel the sweat running down his back. What was happening? Dr Schmidt comes against him with a weird looking amulet in his hands and he takes a hold of Steve’s hand. Dr Schmidt brings the amulet to his hand and Steve feels a pain in the palm of his hand and he sees blood dripping from a big wound. “Brock, we need to get away from here,” Steve yells out, but he sees Brock give Dr Schmidt his hand willingly. Steve struggle to get away, but he is chained to the chair. “Feel the transformation,” Dr Schmidt laughs out. There is darkness surrounding Steve now. He can’t see a thing in front of him and the bones in his body start to hurt. It feels like everything in his body is rearranging. He tries to scream, but no sound comes out. “I hope you are going to be satisfied with our pact, because you both are getting exactly what you wished for. And if you aren’t, well you will have to blame it on my friends from the other side,” Dr Schmidt laughs. It all fades away.

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Taglist is open!

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castcharmperson · 6 years

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Bruh that Taako thing was great!!! Is it possible I could request a part two? 👀👀👀

Hey!!! You’re great!!! Thanks for this nice ask!!!

Part two is way more dialogue heavy than I expected, and I’m sort of ignoring 5e with how the spell Silence works. But that’s fine!

[link to part one]

The Winter Solstice was hardly the event of the season. It wasn’t a party like it’s twin, The Summer Solstice. Nor was it a bombastic celebration like Candlenights. The Winter Solstice was traditionally a day spent eating food and sitting around a bonfire. Angus was going to be home from school anyway, but the weeks leading up to the holiday were filled with letters from Magnus and more formal invitations on Taako’s Taako Brand TM stationary, insisting the entire family had to be home for the first Starblaster Extended Crew celebration of the Solstice.

When Angus arrived, he figured he shouldn’t be surprised that Magnus had converted the empty pool into a safe location for the bonfire. There must have been a small forest worth of chopped wood stacked in there.

“You want to do the honors, kid?” Lup had offered him once everyone had gathered together. “I’m told you’ve mastered Scorching Ray.” Ah, so she also hadn’t forgotten The Dispel Magic Incident, or DMI as he’d taken referring to it in his notes. They shared a look, but neither of them said anything. Instead, Angus cast the spell and the bonfire ignited. Magnus, Carey, and Killian cheered, while Taako brushed past everyone to get back inside to the kitchen.

“Taako! Can I help with dinner?” Angus asked, following him into the house.

“I don’t know, squirt, this is kind of a one elf job.” Taako wasn’t looking at him, busying himself with taking a roast out to thaw.

“Well that’s perfect, because I’m not an elf!”

Taako sighed, but didn’t shoo him away. He didn’t turn around either and Angus couldn’t get any new notes for this case if Taako wouldn’t look at him. His Insight mod was high, but not that high. “Besides, I’ve been gone for a while. I’m sure you’ve got new spells to teach me.”

That made Taako pause. They had both decidedly spent the last few days of summer pretending nothing had happened and, at that time, Angus was fine with that. But The World’s Greatest Detective could only wait so long before the need for answers weighed more than the need to keep the peace with his family.

Taako still wouldn’t turn around though. He gave a blunt laugh before gathering a few more dishes that had been frozen overnight. “So this is how we’re going to do this, huh?”

“Either like this, or I can cast Zone of Truth,” Angus offered, perhaps leaning too heavily into his ‘cheerily helpful’ disposition.

“Aglet,” Taako’s voice was sharp and so was his expression when finally turned to face Angus. He was still leaning back on the counter, faux casual, but his eyeshadow was a different color. The Disguise Self must have worn off- how did he recast it without Angus even noticing? “What part of ‘you didn’t see anything’ did you not understand?”

“The part where you’ve been hiding a limp all day.”

Taako scoffed and rolled his eyes.“I thought Magnus talked to you about doing this detective bullshit on the family.” Angus knew he was going to lose this lead unless he made a bigger move.

“It’s not bullshit when someone’s keeping secrets–”

“Watch your fucking language–”

“You’re the one who said no one was supposed to keep secrets anymore!” Angus hadn’t mean to raise his voice, wasn’t really aware that he’d done it until it was done. He never used to do that. He was pretty sure he had to increase his volume after spending as much time around a family that constantly talked over each other.

He heard the change before he felt the magic settle over the room. Before Angus became a wizard, he had a few different items that could cast Silence for him, but the spell had a different power behind it when cast by one of the most talented mages in the multiverse.

He was so distracted by the spell that he didn’t notice Taako walk across the kitchen until he was towering over Angus. The boy had grown a little, during his semester away, but not enough to really forget how much shorter he was than everyone except Merle and Davenport.

“I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but I promise you, McDonald, you will lose.”

This lead was absolutely getting away from him. He needed to change tactics, try a different approach, maybe make good on his threat for Zone of Truth. His spell DC might be high enough, despite how charismatic Taako was. He was the World’s Greatest Detective, he could still crack this case.

Instead, he panicked. “Are you okay?”

That made Taako take a step back, nearly stumbling before grabbing onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “What?”

“I want to know what happened.” Angus took a bold step forward, but Taako only laughed, the same harsh sound he made first time Angus called him and the others on their horseshit back on the Rockport Limited.

“You’re barely ten years old, you don’t know what you want!”

“I’m twelve!”

“So I’ve got a whole year before you can start this teenage rebellion bullshit. Ango, this feast is not going to cook itself and I–”

Taako started to turn away. This was his last chance. “My parents died in the Relic Wars.”

If Taako had looked horrified when Angus saw his scars, if he’d been confused when Angus asked if he was okay, those were nothing compared to this. For a moment, he wondered if he’d stopped speaking Common, but any other language he could possibly know, he’s sure Taako would have understood.

“That. Um.” Taako’s left leg seemed to buckle for a second before he grabbed the back of the chair again. With a defeated sigh, he sat down. “I’m going to ruin dinner because of this.”

“Probably not, sir, you’re a very good chef.”

“Obviously,” Taako muttered, scrubbing a hand across his face. His make up didn’t smudge, but with a snap of his fingers, it was gone completely. His hair fell loose around his shoulders and his freckles stopped shimmering in imaginary starlight. “Fine, okay, let’s turn this into a teachable moment. Barry and Lup are liches, right?”

“Yes…” Angus wasn’t sure where this was going, but at least it was going somewhere. He pulled out another chair and sat down.

“You better pray Istus never fates you to meet any others. Others liches are what did this to me. And to Merle and to Magnus.”

The Wonderland mission had been a nightmare. Having the Reclaimers drop off the map, then Magnus not coming home. Merle had an eyepatch and Taako… With the chaos that followed, the literal end of the world, Angus hadn’t noticed anything different about Taako.

“I’m the worst detective,” he mumbled, but Taako put hand on his shoulder bringing him back to the present.

“Hey.” For the first time since Silence was cast, Taako didn’t seem angry with him anymore. “You are the best detective. World’s Greatest. How’d you get started with all that anyway?”

“Tried to find out what happened with my parents.”

“Bet Cresha didn’t make that easy for you.”

“No, she did not.” They shared a small laugh, though Angus assumed for different reasons. A non-magical silence lingered for a moment before Angus was able to look at Taako again. “Does it hurt?”

“Gotta be more specific than that, kiddo.” Taako stretched and Angus heard several joints pop.

“You face?”

“Physically, no.”

“Emotionally?”

“Uh-uh-uh!” Taako shook a finger so close to Angus’s face that he nearly went cross eyed. When he focused on Taako again, the elf was grinning. “I already let you slip two questions in on that turn. Don’t try to pull a fast one on a flip wizard. Taako’s turn now. Where’d you get that scar?” He pointed to the back of Angus’s hand.

“My grandfather stabbed me with a fork.”

Taako nearly choked, strained and genuine laugh squeezing through his throat. “The fuck? What did you do?”

“It was an accident. Where’d you get your scar?”

“Gotta be more specific. Why’d you ask me to teach you magic?”

Angus huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are not making this easy.”

“Didn’t say I would.” Taako mirrored his posture, smirking in a way that Angus found strangely comforting. “Answer my question.”

Angus shrugged. “What you did on the train was pretty cool.”

“Hey, am I bullshitting on my answers? No, I’m not. Do not make me cast Zone of Truth, young man.”

“You don’t have that spell.”

“Fuck you, I don’t have that spell. I’ve got whatever fucking spell I want.” Taako moved to stand, but seemed to think better of it and slouched back down. Angus still didn’t say anything. Taako, surprisingly, stayed quiet, waiting him out. All his detective training had prepared him pretty well for being on the other side of interrogations, but he found himself fidgeting in the silence after only a minute.

“Grandpa wasn’t… all there? I guess. You guys were the first people to… I don’t know.” For all the books Angus had read, not many of them offered a word for what that feeling had been. “I asked Magnus to teach me to fight, but he said I was too young. And, uh, Merle wasn’t…”

“Yeah, no, I remember how Merle was.”

“Was he not like that on the Starblaster?”

“You still haven’t answered my question, but I’ll give you a freebee.” Taako leaned back. He’d been paying pretty close attention when Angus was speaking, but now he seemed to focus on something off in the distance. “No, he wasn’t like that on the Starblaster. Was your grandpa mad when you didn’t bring the silverware?”

“He was dead before I got there.”

Taako’s attention slid back to him, but his posture stayed loose. “You don’t seem very upset about that.”

Angus shrugged. “What happened to your legs?”

“Washing machine fell on me.”

Angus tried not to react to that. It was surprisingly easy, mostly because the idea was so hard to imagine he couldn’t really react at all. He leaned back in his chair, mirroring Taako to the best of his ability despite his feet not reaching the floor. “You don’t seem very upset about that.”

“Oh trust me, I am. It’s just,” Taako barked out a laugh, “It’s so stupid? Like it didn’t even make any sense? This big dumb thing just fell on me out of nowhere!” He laughed again, shaking his head and staring at nothing again. “Do you miss your parents?”

“I didn’t really know them, so no, not really. Do you miss your home planet?”

Taako scoffed. “Definitely not. Why’d you go to Lucas’s shitty school?”

Angus thought about bullshitting an answer again. It would have been easy to say he’d already been enrolled in The Academy before Taako announced he was opening a school. And that wouldn’t even be a lie! It’s what had happened. But he could have talked to Lucas, could have found a way to transfer. He had considered doing so, but something had stopped him. That same feeling he didn’t really have a word for.

“Because I’m already in your school.”

Taako didn’t react at first, just blinking at nothing, but then he was blinking at Angus. He tilted his head, as if a different angle could help him better see through a lie that wasn’t there. Angus shrugged at Taako’s unasked question and Taako broke into a grin. “And that’s exactly what I want to hear from my favorite student.”

Angus found himself matching the smile, enjoying the unexpected success before he remembered why he started this game in the first place. “Why were you mad when I cast Dispel Magic?”

Taako shook his head. “Wasn’t mad. You scared the fuck outta me. Where’d you learn that spell?”

“Barry taught me.”

“Son of a bitch…”

Angus pressed on. “Do your legs hurt?”

Taako’s grin slid off his face, but he kept staring at Angus. There was something brighter about his eyes, focused like this and without the glamour. He was quiet for a long time before sighing and nodding a little. He looked down, at the way his legs draped out from the chair, unposed, as close to comfortable as it was possible to be in a kitchen chair. When he looked back at Angus, he seemed strangely determined.

“All the damn time.”

“Why don’t you tell anyone?”

Taako held up his index finger again, smile returned. “Uh-uh! Not your turn.” When Taako didn’t follow with a question, Angus tried not to get inpatient. He really seemed to be thinking about it before leveling Angus was a surprisingly serious, but focused, expression. “Are you okay?”

Taako had asked him this question only twice before. The rest of the Birds asked him pretty often, but it was different when it came from Taako. When Lucretia asked Angus if he was okay, he expected it. She had brought an eleven-year-old onto a secret moonbase; she thought he was her responsibility, like the rest of the weight of the world was. Davenport asked because he was the Captain and Captains made sure their crew was okay. Magnus wore his heart on his sleeve, so did Lup and Barry. They asked in that familiar, comforting way. Merle was a cleric, he usually asked if Angus was okay in regards to exclusively physical matters.

For all Taako pretend to be “good out here,” to be an idiot wizard, that disguise was flimsy within minutes of Angus meeting him, much more so after all his memories returned. Despite Lucretia being his Boss and Davenport as the family’s Captain, Taako was his Mentor.

The first time Taako had asked if he was okay was after The Story and Song. He was standing on shaky legs after fighting for his life and struggling to focus on anything in front of him after a century was shoved into his mind. Taako had put a hand on his shoulder and the world held together just a little bit longer.

The second time Taako had asked if he was okay was the day after The Detect Magic Incident.

“Yes Taako. I’m okay.”

“Good.” Taako gave a small smile, before clapping his hands together and starting to stand. His grip on the back of the chair turned his knuckles white, but he was steady on his feet. He didn’t bother looking at Angus’s concerned expression. “And before you ask, no, it is not always this bad. Holiday had me on my feet a lot.”

“One last question?” Angus asked anyway.

Taako sighed, rolling not just his eyes but lolling his whole body in a put-upon motion. “Fiiine. But you’re peeling all the potatoes.”

“That’s fair.” Angus hopped out of his seat and Taako handed him the potato peeler. He got through the first one, letting Taako focus on seasoning the roast. “Why wont you tell anyone?”

Taako didn’t answer for a while, but Angus didn’t feel impatient anymore. He went through three more potatoes before Taako finally said, “They’re all…” He sighed, and Angus tried to look at him without turning his head, despite his glasses not clearing that part of his vision. Taako was making the sort of hand gesture he usually used when talking about his family. “Because they’re stupid.” He finally settled on that and Angus put down the potato peeler to put his hands on his hips.

“That’s a bullshit answer.”

“Well it’s true!”

Angus didn’t budge and Taako laughed. “Istus, you’d be adorable like that if I didn’t know you knew Zone of Truth. Okay, yeah. Cresha’s already a mess, I don’t really need to dunk more guilt on her because she is, in fact, the idiot who sent us there. Dav is… Dav, so he’s always weird about when we get hurt. Barry and Magnus and Merle were all there and– and Lup was too. They’re going to be weird about it.

“And it’s not like on the Starblaster where we’d get hurt but it was better next cycle. There is no next cycle. I’m going to be like this forever. And Krav, he hasn’t said anything about it yet, but I know he wants to see ‘the real me’ or whatever stupid sappy thing that you are too young to understand–”

“I’m twelve, I understand how basic decency works.”

“Shut up. And everyone is going to want it to be all the time and I don’t… I don’t want that.”

“You don’t have to tell everyone.”

Taako just shook his head. “You shouldn’t even know about this. No one was supposed to know.”

“I won’t tell anyone. But you should at least tell Lup.” He didn’t need a hundred years of memories in his head to know that, despite how close everyone on the Starblaster was, the twins were something else.

“I can’t tell Lup.”

Neither of them were sure when the Silence spell had worn off, or how long she’d been leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen when Lup chimed in. “Can’t tell Lup what?”

#well this was fun #taz #taz fic #the adventure zone #taako #angus mcdonald #charmedwords #charmedanswers #i rewrote this three different times...#sazz-orak

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disney-eats-kids · 5 years

Text

For some reason the only thing that I can write is an angsty Twilight one-shot. My brain opened up for just this and that is it.

***

I always told myself that I wouldn’t end up like Emily. Manipulated into staying into a relationship with scars on my face. Scars that the pack pretend not to notice whenever they look at her. Scars that I pretend not to notice and pretend not to know how they got there. Scars that remind me every day not to end up like her. Scars that remind me to keep my walls up around Embry ever since I decided to sort of accept his imprinting.

I didn’t want to be in a relationship with him, but I told him I wouldn’t shun him. I would let him be my friend and my protector. I could never let him be my lover because I didn’t feel that way about men. Every day since I learned about the imprinting his pack brothers have tried so hard to convince me that it wasn’t enough. That letting him be my friend wasn’t enough. That I needed to be his lover because he would never love anyone. However, I wasn’t going to let myself be manipulated into being in a relationship with him like Emily was.

I could tell that it hurt him that I didn’t fully accept his imprinting. That I kept my distance and didn’t love him the way that he loved me. I could tell that it hurt him that I kept myself from the boys that tried to force me into a relationship. That it hurt him when I gravitated towards the girl who also didn’t like Emily and Sam’s relationship. It hurt him that it seemed like Leah and I had a much closer relationship than he and I. He must have known that I had a small crush on this beautiful girl and that must hurt every day. I wasn’t going to be like Emily though and I wasn’t going to be forced to love him.

“He asks for advice every day.” Leah spoke breaking the comfortable silence between us. We decided to spend the day at the beach just the two of us. I was only in La Push for spring break and then I headed back to Seattle. The agreement with Embry was that I would spend time with him during my school breaks. I would give him a week for Christmas beak because I still wanted to see my family but for things like spring break or summer, I spent the whole time there. Even though I know that he still wanted more. He wants me here full time, but I couldn’t give him that.

I took in a deep breath before responding to her, “Trying to find out how to get me to love him?”

“He’s going with something smaller right now. He’s trying to find way to get you to agree to go to the community college nearby. So that he can see you more.” I rolled my eyes and moved to pull my hair into a ponytail.

“I like my school.”

“Yeah I know.” I laid back on my towel and looked up at the sky through my sunglasses. I always thought that it was stupid that I had to give up my things for him. I had to give up my holidays so that he could have relief from the pain he felt every day from me not being there. I had to half way accept his imprint because they said that it would kill him. Of course, I’m not sure that he would actually die but his pack acted like it. Like I would be the one personally plunging a knife into his heart and looking him in the eyes when he died. Being his friend was never good enough for them and I honestly was getting tired of it.

“I feel like I am giving all of myself and he still wants more.” I was never afraid of speaking openly and honestly with Leah. I knew that she would never tell them what I said. I would never tell them what she said to me. “I understand that he wants me to accept the imprinting fully, but I can’t. He can’t even accept the fact that I’m a lesbian. He says that he can, but I can tell every time that I’m not throwing myself in his arms and kissing him, he is disappointed.”

“I know I’ve said this before, and you brushed it off, but I think you need to talk to him. You need to tell him how you feel, and you need to be honest.” Leah leaned on her left arm and looked down at me. I glanced over at her before looking back up at the sky with a huff.

“Emily tried to tell Sam what she felt and now look at her. She has a fucked-up face that everyone pretends not to notice. ‘Don’t stare it bugs Sam.’ That’s what Embry said to me the first time I went to meet Emily.” I did my best impression to sound like Embry. “I should stare, and we should make Sam feel guilty.”

“Alondra.”

“No, we should make him feel bad because then they wouldn’t be trying to push Embry on me. If we held Sam responsible, then maybe they would all back off. If we stopped acting like the whole thing with Quil is fine, then maybe I could live my normal life.”

“Alondra.”

“I met someone.” I sat up and noticed Leah look taken back. She shifted her eyes behind me, and I just figured she was processing what I said. “I met someone, and I want to be with her. She wants to be with me too and every time I take a step to be with her, I have Embry’s sad eyes in the back of my mind. I want to be with her, but I know if I told him then I would be made to feel even more guilty. I want to date someone and not feel guilty about it cause she’s not my imprint. This isn’t fair and what is behind me that is so interesting.”

I turned around and froze when I saw Embry, Sam, Jacob and Paul standing there behind us. I left out a deep sigh and looked back at Leah. Her face was hard to read but I could tell that she felt bad for Embry. Everyone always felt bad for Embry but never me.

“Alondra.” This time it was Embry who said my name and he said it in such a pathetic tone. I slowly rose to my feet and dusted off the sand on my legs.

“Embry look- “He cut me off before I could explain to him what I meant.

“Is that really how you feel?”

“Yes.” He silently nodded before stepping closer to me. “I’m sorry but it is how I feel. I love you but it’s only like a brother and I need to stop feeling so guilty about it. I need everyone but Leah to stop making me feel so guilty about not loving you the way that you want me to. God even your mom makes me feel guilty about it and she doesn’t even know about the imprinting!” I finally let it all out and it was starting to feel good.

“I just don’t get why everyone else gets an imprint who likes them, and I get stuck with a- “

“A what Embry? A lesbian? That’s what I am Embry. I am a lesbian and you know that. Though you still keep trying to find way to get me to love you romantically. You’re not a girl and I will never feel that way about you.” My voice was starting to rise and honestly, I didn’t care. “I am here spending time with you on my day off because I was made to feel guilty about enjoying my time off. Enjoying my time off without you.”

“When has anyone ever made you feel guilty?” For some reason this question just angered me even more.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? When have you ever made me feel guilty? How about all the fucking time whenever I go over to Emily’s. Or when I hang out with you and Quil. Or whenever I’m invited to a supposedly innocent dinner. Where Billy reminds me how strong the imprint bond is. How much stronger would it be when I accept you fully. I’ve accepted you the way I was told that I could accept you. I was told that you would be whatever I want and being a friend is what I want.”

“Alondra maybe you should calm down.” This time Sam spoke up in his calm authoritative tone. However, I was tired of this and I was tired of being somewhere I didn’t want to be. I was tired of being silenced whenever I tried to speak up about this. I went to Sam after I was told about this imprint bond because I was told he had been with his imprint longest. I figured that he knew more about it and could give me a better insight on what to do. Little did I know that he had scratched up his imprints face and everyone pretty much ignored it. I remember however that he told me that I should keep my concerns to myself. That it would be too painful for Embry to handle and maybe down the road I could bring it up. Of course, that was a lie and I was still made to feel like I couldn’t say anything.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Sam!” I snapped at him which took everyone but Leah by surprised. I guess she figured that this had been brewing for a while now. “I don’t want to have to come here every break just so you can feel relief. I don’t like coming here because the only actual friend that I have is Leah. All the time my friends invite me to go on vacations with them, but I can’t because I have some love sick puppy begging for my attention.”

If I hadn’t been ranting maybe I would have noticed Jacob move closer to Embry every time he took a step closer to me. Maybe I hadn’t been so angry I would have noticed both Jacob and Sam tell Embry to stay back and calm down. I would have noticed Embry shaking with a rage that I had never seen before.

“I want to be able to go on a date with a girl without feeling guilty like I’m hurting your feelings. I want to be able to say yes to a date and not get your sad face in my head. I want to not be tied to this stupid place and I want to not be tied to you. I want to just be friends and I want you to be able to accept that.” I looked over at Leah who was up on her feet had her hands extended. I gave her a confused look and then looked back at Embry. That’s when it happened. That’s when Embry couldn’t keep himself calm anymore and that’s when he transformed. Like Emily I was standing too close when he transformed. Like Emily I felt the claws of Embry’s wolf form run down my right side. The right side of my face and down to my chest. Like Emily I let out a blood curdling scream and fell to the ground.

I instinctively held onto the right side of my face and in the haze of the pain lifted my hand to see blood. In the haze of the pain I saw Sam stepping towards me. I reached out my hand covered in blood and screamed for him not to touch me. At least I hope that’s what I screamed. I was in so much pain that I wasn’t completely sure that’s what I yelled. I then held my hand out for Leah who I believe grabbed it. I was in so much pain and then there was so much more pain when I felt her pick me up. I think Sam was yelling something, but I was starting to go in and out from the pain. I think she ran with me to the hospital, prepared to tell them that I was attacked by a bear like Emily was. I remember passing out from the pain and then a few moments later regaining consciousness. In my haze I recognized the blond hair and pale man who was Carlisle Cullen. The vampire doctor who had been nothing but nice to me every time I met him. I also recognized Bella Swan, or should I say Bella Cullen. There was one girl that took me a while to recognize because I hadn’t seen much of her. Her blonde hair pulled up into a bun and her gold eyes looking at me with sorrow, Rosalie Cullen. I had only seen her in passing and I thought she was so beautiful.

Dr. Cullen pulled my attention to him and his lips were moving. However, I couldn’t make out what he was saying. It might have been about what he was going to do to help me. It might have been words of kindness and telling me he wouldn’t let Embry anywhere near me. The response I could give him was just ‘what’. At least that’s what I think I said. If not I’m sure I thought it and his mind reading son could tell him. To be honest it didn’t matter what he said because not long after I passed out.

I don’t know how long I was out for but when I woke up, I was alone in a very bare room. I had bandages over the right side of my face and the right side of my body down to my chest. I was confused until the memory of Embry turning into a wolf right before my eyes and digging his claws into me came rushing back. Then I started to panic, and the sound of a very annoying rapid beeping called to the attention of others. The first face I saw with my one good eye was Leah. I reached out for her hand and held onto it tightly. She was speaking but, in my panic, I couldn’t make out what she as saying. She then looked over to my right and was yelling something. I tried to look with my good eye, but I couldn’t see that far. I tried to turn my head but the pain that shot through me with the slight movement stopped me. I think Dr. Cullen might have injected something in me because not long after I blacked out again.

I again don’t know how long I was out for but when I woke up, I wasn’t alone in the room again. Leah was sitting in a chair that was to my left and Alice Cullen stood by the wall to the left of me. She gave me a warm smile and Leah jumped to her feet and made her way over to me. “Hey.”

“Leah.” I spoke her name softly and winced at the pain I felt with just talking.

“I’ll go get Carlisle.” Alice said and walked out of the room. Leah softly brushed her fingers through my hair. The look on her face was so sad and it made me feel like I died or something.

“Did I die?” It was meant to be a joke but the silence that followed made me worried. Leah didn’t say anything, but she did place a kiss on the top of my head. “Leah?”

“Your heart did stop for a minute. Dr. Cullen was able to revive you though and patch you up.” Leah was using a soft soothing tone with me like I was a child. The confession of my heart having stopped brought tears to my eye. I’m sure if my right eye wasn’t injured it would have brought tears to that eye too.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry Alondra. I’m so sorry. The guys all feel terrible and Embry he- “

“Don’t.” I tried to sound authoritative but the lump in my throat made me sound weak. “Don’t say his name.”

“Alondra.” Dr. Cullen came into view and he like his daughter gave me a warm smile. “How are you feeling?”

“My heart stopped.” I let out a sob and then winced in pain. “My heart stopped.”

“I know but I was able to bring you back. You’re alive.”

“My heart stopped.” I repeated again and let the tears fall down freely.

“I stopped the bleeding and closed your wounds. Unfortunately, there will be scaring once they are healed.” Dr. Cullen explained to me in a gentle tone just like the one Leah was using.

“I want my mom.” My voice sounded so small, like a child’s.

“Alondra.” Leah spoke up again. Leah knew that my mom knew about the legends and about the imprinting. She didn’t tell the rest that she knew, and she didn’t want to make things worse.

“I want my mom.” I cried again and my voice just sounded pathetic. “Please I want my mom. I want my mom. Leah please call my mom.”

Leah looked off to the side and wiped the tears from her eyes. She stayed there for just a moment trying to stop her tears. Trying to be strong for me because right now I was just so weak. “OK. I’m going to call your mom and she is gonna drive here as fast as she can, okay?”

“Ok.” My voice sounded so pained and I was just so scared that my heart would stop again. I held onto her hand so tightly. If she hadn’t been a shape shifter, I’m sure the grip would have hurt. The warmth of her skin though made me remember I was alive. “Thank you.”

***

It had been 2 months since the incident, and I was still at the Cullen’s house. They were nice to me and my mother and always made sure I was never alone. My father had come out, but he went back to Seattle to work things out with my school. They had told them that I was attacked by a wolf instead of a bear. Not a complete lie but still not the truth.

I still had bandages covering the right side of my face, but the pain was not as bad as it was before. I was able to get out of bed and walk around. I liked taking walks with Rosalie the most because she had no problem bad mouthing the wolves. Leah had some restraint when it came to bad mouthing them, but Rosalie had no ties to them like Leah. I believe Rosalie saw me as her own daughter in a way. There as a day when my mother was taking a shower while Rosalie and I went for a walk. When we came back Jacob was there spending time with Renesmee and I ended up seeing him. I started to remember what happened to me and started to have a panic attack. Rosalie carried me back to my room and helped me calm down. It was then decided that Renesmee would go to La Push when she and Jacob wanted to spend time together.

Dr. Cullen, who insisted I call him Carlisle, broke the bad news to me that I lost my right eye once I calmed down about wanting my mom. He said that he tried his hardest but there was no saving it. That made my hatred for Embry grow even more. The unspoken rule was that no one was allowed to say that name around me. At first whenever someone did, I would have a panic attack and I ended up popping a few stitches. Every day the hatred for Embry grows and every day I want to go back home.

“Alondra.” I looked up from my book and up at my mom. She played with her fingers in a nervous manner and I knew she had something to say.

“Hey.” She walked over to me and took my left hand in both of her hands.

“Honey I’m so sorry.” I looked at her confused not sure what she could be sorry about. “He wants to see you and talk to you.”

It didn’t take a genius to know who the ‘He’ my mother was referring too. “No.” This time my voice was stern.

“Honey I know you’re upset I know. I am upset with him as well, but I think you need to talk to him. I think you need to tell him how you feel. Tell him and then it’s all over.” I thought about what she said and knew I would have to tell him eventually.

“Fine. I don’t want him touching me though.”

“I understand. I will also be right outside the door.” My mother let go of my hand even though I just wanted to hold on to her even more. She walked out of the room and a few minutes later Embry slowly made his way into the room. My left hand clenched into a fist and I even held my book tighter. My heart started to race and I tried so hard to remember the coping mechanisms that Alice and Rosalie had taught me. Tears started to form, and I did my best to blink them away. This man would not see me cry. I just wanted to throw the vase full of flowers Esme had brought me at him. I stopped myself from doing that though.

“Hello.” He rubbed his arm awkwardly and stood by the door. He looked at me as if expecting for me to great him like a friend. When my only response was to stare him down, he continued. “Alondra I am so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? That’s all that you can say to me. You’re sorry.” My tone was harsh and unforgiving.

“I’m very sorry.”

“Get out Embry.”

“No, Alondra please I didn’t mean too. It was an accident and I feel so terrible. I told myself that I never wanted to do what Sam did. I am so sorry. You have to believe me.” Embry started to walk closer to me which made my heart start to race even more.

“Don’t!” He stopped in his tracks with a startled look on his face. I wonder if Sam told him what happened when he went to Emily’s bed side. We all know that he asked her to let him kill himself, but did she let him near her? Did the memories of the pain make her heart race every second he was in the room?

“I’m sorry.” He said softly and looked at the ground. “I never meant for this to happen and I feel like garbage that it did. I understand that you never want to see me again. I am so sorry. Please.” It was like Alice’s gift transferred over to me and I knew the future. I knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. “Please just let me die. Just let me kill myself and you won’t have to feel tied down to me anymore. You won’t have to feel guilty anymore.”

There it was. The mother of all guilt trips from this man. Leah told me that’s what Sam said to Emily after he fucked up her face. He begged for Emily to let him die. She didn’t let him though because she was too nice. I wasn’t going to let him die either but that’s because I was enraged.

“I lost my eye. Did they tell you that? That I only have one eye now. Because of you I only have one eye now, because of you. You promised me that you would never hurt me and look at what you’ve done.” Embry winced at my harsh tone and my words.

“Then please let me kill myself.” He looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“No. I won’t let you kill yourself Embry.” At those words he looked hopeful but at my next words his face fell. “I want you to live with this. I want you to wake up every day and remember this. Knowing that I lost an eye because of you. Knowing that I am never coming back to this place and to you. I want you to remember what you did to me and I want it to kill you every day. I won’t let you kill yourself because that would be an easy out for you. I want you to die every day until your last breath. Stay alive Embry, so that this kills you every day.”

“Alondra.” He said in disbelief not knowing what more to say.

“Now get out.” I spat at him.

“Alondra.”

“Get out!” I screamed at him.

“Alondra.”

“Get! Out!” If he was supposed to do what I asked, then why wasn’t he leaving. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him for this long. He should know this and he should be tripping over himself to do as I said.

“Alondra please.” The door opened and my mother looked between the two of us. He looked at her silently pleading for her to help him.

Get out!” I screamed and picked up the vase before chucking at him. Embry dodged it in time and the vase crashed on the ground. My mother rushed over to me and tried to get me to calm down. I couldn’t calm down until he was out of the room. Why couldn’t anyone seem to understand this? “Get out!”

Leah rushed over to Embry and pulled him out of the room. My mother grabbed my arms trying to get me to calm down. Afraid that I may reopen any wound that was still healing. She whispered soothing words to me, and I just tried to push her way. Carlisle came into the room and injected me with a what I imagined was a sedative, and I passed out not long after.

I always said that I wasn’t going to end up like Emily and I made sure of that. I was done with La Push and I was done with the pack. Most of all I was done with Embry Call.

#twilight #embry call #one-shot #leah clearwater #twilight imagine

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03/08/2020 DAB Transcript

Numbers 10:1-11:23, Mark 14:1-21, Psalms 51:1-19, Proverbs 10:31-32

Today is the 8th day of March, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it’s great to be here with you as we collectively, like we do at the beginning of each week, mark the fact that everything is new, everything is out in front of us, we’re walking into this new week and we have the opportunity to walk into this new week with God. So, we step through the threshold together into a brand-new week. We’ll read from the Contemporary English Version this week and continue our journeys through the book of…the book of numbers in the Old Testament the book of Mark, the gospel of Mark in the New Testament. So, today numbers chapters 10 verse 1 through 11 verse 23.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for Your word once again and thank You for bringing us here into this new week. And we offer our gratitude. We are truly humbled and grateful that You've allowed us to be together in community and that we together in community can hear from Your word. We are so grateful because Your word does give us the advice for our next step. Your word does give us a context for how to be in this world and we are so grateful for that and it is changing us and we continue to open ourselves completely to You and invite You to continue to lead us forward on the narrow path that leads to life. And we thank You for this. And may we have eyes to see Your guidance we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here. So, stay tuned and stay connected.

Check out the Community section. That's where the Prayer Wall lives, and the Prayer Wall is such a valuable resource in this community. It’s place that you can go to at any time and can…I mean if you're feeling pretty down and got some stuff facing you nothing can change the atmosphere by turning your focus away from yourself and onto others. And, so, the prayer wall is always…always happening. You can just always go there and find somebody to pray for or maybe you're needing prayer and that is a wonderful place to go and get it. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link that's living on the homepage. If you use the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment you can hit the Hotline button in the app, the little red button at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi DAB family this is Missy from the Midwest I’m calling in response today to Lori’s call. She talked about how she went on the pilgrimage in 2019 and was baptized by Brian, how she overcame addiction through Jesus Christ and she’s now been six years sober. The story she gave was amazing. So, Lori I just wanted to tell you thank you for calling that in. I have someone in my family that is also very bogged down by demonic oppression along with addiction and I was convicted today to really seek God in prayer for that person and hearing your call really confirmed that. Thank you so much. God bless all.

Hi this is Travis I want to thank Grace who showed me this app. It’s been wonderful and I want to ask everybody who’s…who’s listening to pray for my son Brady. He suffers from absolute epilepsy and it’s a bad case. He has many as 20 seizures a day and he…he really suffers with it and at times he’s questioned God’s love for him in this…doesn’t know…doesn’t understand why this is happening to him and as many of you know seizures and when you have multiple of them they do affect your cognitive ability at some point and Brady has suffered with some of that. So, please pray for my son Brady. And also pray for his brother and mother who suffer with him and for me suffers with him. And one specific prayer request for me is that I not allow the stress of…of all this to cloud my vision and to see that God has so richly blessed us even in the midst of this trial and to help me rule my spirit and to control my spirit when anger and things, resentment bubble up and stress. It’s just a prayer request for…for all of us but most particularly for my son Brady. So, thank you all. Thank you for this broadcast it’s so richly blessed me just in a few days I’ve been listening and I’m spreading the word. Thank you all and thank you for your time in prayer for me and my son and my family.

Hi Daily Audio Bible this is Sierra from Florida I am 24 years old this is like my 18th recording because I keep stumbling over what I’m trying to say. But overall, I just wanted to say how blessed I am, or I feel that I found Daily Audio Bible. I’ve been looking, I been searching for something that I can listen to on the way to work… have an hour drive to work every day…that goes to the Bible and is engaging and relatable and I just really appreciated Brian’s commentary, but I find especially encouraging the end of each episode when people pray for each other. It makes me cry and I just love it so much. It’s very uplifting and I just wanted to pray blessings for you guys. If I could ask you guys around the community to pray for me. I just became a Christian about a year and half ago maybe. It was October 2018 and God has just been exploding in my life and I feel such a calling. And, so, I felt the call to go into the mission field and I’ve never been out of the country before and in one month I will…I’ve…God pulled through and the funding and everything. In one month, I’ll be going to a missionary school in Mexico and I’ll be three months there through YWAM and three months doing outreach and I have no idea where I’ll be, I’ll be somewhere else in the world, but I’ll be doing missions work for six months. So, I really just wanted some prayer, or I was just wondering if someone would pray for me for just spiritual courage. And I’m just walking totally in faith and I just everyday could use prayer. So, if you guys could pray for me, I would absolutely love that. I would be very blessed. And I just want to bless all of you. Thank you very much for just being there and existing. Have a good day.

Greetings DAB family today is Monday 2 March 2020 this is Daddy’s Dreamer from Tampa or DDFT for short. I’m going through a lot with my preteen children and would appreciate your general prayers regarding me and my kids, but I thought I would give my family greater insight into my callsign. In this season of my life I have taken one Corinthians 2:9 as my life verse – “what no lie is seen no ear has heard and no human heart conceived, God has prepared these things for those who love Him.” I have meditated on this verse and it has brought me such joy. One day we will not have to endure the scientific rules of this world perhaps. As Pink Paint has suggested the Lord may introduce us to new colors, new musical notes and maybe even emotions and a state of mind that would’ve been impossible to experience here on earth. I have a military background and often suggest to my coworkers and compare heaven to possibly be the ultimate mission. It all may sound simple and stupid, but it really does excite me to the core. I love this family and tell everybody that will listen about this community. Keep pressing play new DABbers. This is DDFT. Stay positive and always let His light shine through you. Bye-bye.

Hi this is Tammy in Kentucky and I wanted to call and ask for prayer for everything going on in my life. I have an adopted son from foster care. We’ve ha d him for about 3 ½ years and he’s 17 ½ and this morning we woke up at six something and he had left to go visit his girlfriend who lives an hour and a halfway. I mean, he’s only known her like two weeks. He just constantly finds new girlfriends. And she was diagnosed yesterday with flu and strep. And just…these are the things he does. He’s very impulsive and just never even tells us. Then I get so torn up about because these are not things you should do, and I worry about his actions and what he’s doing. My husband and I stress and fight over this and we have such marital issues. I just don’t know where to turn sometimes and I usually talk to my dad, but my parents died within the past eight months. So, I don’t have that rock to turn to. So, I just feel so alone at times. So, I just need prayer. We need prayer for our adopted son. I want him to follow Jesus and we’ve tried the past three years that he’s been with us but it’s…it’s…I’m hoping we planted a seed for down the road. You know, we want him gone in six months when he turns 18. It’s just not a good situation. So, please pray for us. Thank you. My time is running out.

Good morning DABber family this is Wala the Burning Bush that will not be Devoured for the Glory of our God and King. I just heard a prayer from truly thankful Taylor, and she was praying for stay at home parents. And Taylor as you were praying, my heart is lifted because my mom was a stay-at-home parent and I swear she’s the best mom in the world. And one of the best things in my life was coming home just always knowing that she was always there. And up until now, being a mother myself, my mom is my hero and she is my favorite person in the world. And she passed a couple years ago but she’s still my favorite person in the world. So, I just want to encourage you and let you know that what you’re doing right now, it is a blessing and it is an investment that will not go in vain. And I just want to encourage all to stay at home parents out there, I honestly wish I could afford to stay at home, but I can’t. And, so, I am really like just…kudos to you parents that are stay-at-home and loving your babies and being there for them and offering them what they would not be able…you can’t pay for it…you cannot buy it. Anyway, that’s it. May the Lord bless and keep you. May He cause His face to shine upon you, give you peace. And that prayer is for all my DABber family. Give you peace. May His favor be upon you for a thousand generations - your children and your children’s children. Love you.

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