#oldest son holds just SLIGHTLY more weight than oldest daughter

[july-19th-club]

one thing about getting sick for me is that before covid (the first time) my colds and flus and whatnot all went in a very specific pattern: i would get a sore throat for a day or two, then violently congested for three or four days, then a runny nose/drainage for three or four days after that, and finally a cough, which was my favorite part of the cold (if a person can be said to have a favorite part of a cold) because it meant it was almost over AND that the problem was largely not in my face and neck anymore. but any illness i've had since that first covid has been all over the map - either i don't get the sore throat at all, just straight into the congestion, or the sore throat happens at a different time, or longer, or worse, or i have to spit a lot because otherwise i get so nauseous from sinus drainage that i throw up, or the congestion and the runny nose happen concurrently with not just each other but ALSO the sore throat (which is what's happening right now and i hate it) and like. because it doesn't follow the pattern i spent twenty-six years of my life getting used to, i'm always freaked out. which i would be anyway because ever since i had the first covid getting sick freaks me out. and it should freak more people out if im being honest. but this is a weird one bc like. i dont know how it did that but it disrupted MY trusty sick pattern

[thekingofchungus]

i wrote a shit ton of highly triggering shit that’s too relevant for me to not have but i’d really rather it not be read if it would even slightly somewhat upset you.

also why’s my job so fucking hard. right, its because i make promises i know damn well i can’t keep cause i don’t know how else i’ll be worth a fuck and that also makes me a shit friend, but telling the truth also makes me a shit friend, so really what does that leave me with. oh, right, then there’s also the fact im so braindead thick skulled that i will just forget crucially important shit and feel so fuck off awful about it that i can’t work the rest of the day and throw myself off until so much other shit comes my way that i dont know how unavailable i’m going to be.

then i spend the next however many hours of the day waiting in fucking agony, thinking every single negative thing i could possibly think about myself, for some kind of release and not stopping that shit when i know its not going to fucking happen. and not realizing no amount of me giving something is going to guarantee that i get it back. because its always been like this. its always been my shit being too much for somebody.

and then i start realizing “hey, actually? you are incredibly fucking pathetic. from your small box you’ve been placed in because you’re too beaten and stupid to have any chance at being competent outside people who can effectively control you, you set yourself up with little games that, if not off-puttingly pointless, you can’t even do right. why’d you say that stupid thing. why do you do that stupid fucking thing. cause you can’t do anything else. that’s why. cause you’re an idiot. you burn every single chance at being anything other than an idiot with every breath you fucking take, you’re a fucking nuisance whenever you’re not an asset, hey what are you doing even thinking like this anyway? what are you, abused? noooooonono you have everything. you have a woman who’ll fucking snap at you for speaking in the wrong register ( cause youre so fucking tired of looking at someone who chronically sends you to bed wishing you’d been aborted ) but treats you nicely just enough that to bring it up would just be a shame!! why are you bringing the rest of the family into this? don’t you even care? god its like walking on eggshells with you. you’re hurting me so much. i don’t deserve this. i deserve better. you should think about what you’ve done you naughty naughty stupid stupid girl. why can’t you be like your oldest sister who i’ve made into my husband. why can’t you be like my son who i’d’ve loved more as a grocery cashier. why can’t you be like my third daughter who’s so incapable of fending for herself you’re so much better than her. you’re better than all of them. you’re better than all of them I need you to be better. for me. for everybody. i’m putting the weight of the world on your fucking shoulders so you can hold it up for me. for me, mika. for me. all for me. i don’t ask for much i just ask for this one thing. do it. do it or you’re out of this house do it or you’re just like your father do it do it do it prove them wrong for me i can’t own up to enough to do it myself, do it or i’ll tell you i wont care if you die. i’ll never care if you die. not unless you’re a fetus in my womb. then i couldn’t be told “well you did everything you can, she had it coming” now can i?

here’s the thing about being a golden child everyone is just a fucking cunt to you

[pockyxx]

“ christmas day ”

iwaizumi x fem! reader

genre: domestic fluff. (dad! iwa, uncle issei + uncle takahiro, mentions of uncle toru)

the sun poured into your bedroom, comfy blankets draped over you and your husband’s intertwined bodies. it was christmas morning and you knew that you children would come storming in any moment.

as expected, tiny foot steps pattered along the hardwood floors. you smiled to yourself pretending to still be asleep while you felt the weight of the bed shift just the tiniest bit.

“mommy wake up it’s christmas!” your youngest, misa shook you lightly as you acted as if you just woke up.

“what really it is?” you shook your husband, “hajime did you know it was christmas?!” your daughter giggled as hajime woke up himself.

he rubbed his tired eyes before getting a look at his two girls. he gave an equally shocked expression, causing more light hearted giggles to erupt from misa.

“does hiroki know?” he asked, groggy morning voice sounding in the quiet room. this caused a laugh to come from the hallway. peeking head through the door frame, hiroki your oldest child tried to over his mouth with his hands.

hiroki looked more like iwaizumi than you, in face the spitting image of him when he was young. he was two years older than misa who was 4.

“i tried to tell misa not to wake you but she didn’t listen.” he inched closer to the bed. hajime laughed, gesturing him to come to the bed along with misa.

as both your kids sat in between both of you, hajime jumped up, tickiling their bellies and roaring like godzilla.

from the squeals and giggles from your children, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and enjoy the sound of their voices.

you pulled misa closer to you, “hey bug did santa come?” her eyes widened with a child like glee before she grabbed her brothers arm, dragging him out while exclaiming ‘we need to see if he ate our cookies!’

hajime looked over at you with a wide smile, pressing a long passionate kiss onto your lips. as he pulled back he’d transferred his smile onto you.

“let’s go, the kids are waiting.” you both got up, the morning routine had been put aside for the day. hajime looked just excited as your kids, scrambling to get his cellphone ready for pictures.

both of you walked down the hall walking in on misa and hiroki gasping at the missing cookies and half drunk mug of milk.

misa ran up to hajime, pulling on the brim of his sweater, “daddy, daddy santa ate our cookies!” she gave a toothy smile.

“and he drank our milk!” hiroki added, running over to you. you beamed down at the two children who eagerly rushed to their presents under the tree.

“alright bug.” hajime looked at misa, then to hiroki, “bubs, which gifts do you guys want to open first?” he let the kids scan over the gifts, both picking out ones with similar wrapping.

“good choice,” you sat down at the couch, “those are both from uncle toru, he sent them from argentina.” it was clear by her expression misa was thinking, ‘where’s argentina?’

nonetheless both of your precious children began unwrapping and tearing at the boxes. misa shot up at her gift, holding it up in praise.

“look what uncle toru got me!” she waved up a small white puppy stuffed animal with a small purple colour and a brown spot in the shape of a heart.

she hugged it with all her might while hiroki pulled out his own gift, his eyes wide in marvel.

“uncle toru got me a dinosaur kit!” both kids were equally energetic and it was only the first present. hajime smiled as he video tapped, asking “alright what do we say to uncle toru?”

both chimed in with thank yous as hajime stopped recording and sent the video to his friend.

the morning was filled with opening presents and slowly sipping coffee as the children had already started playing with their toys and trinkets.

hajime sat next to you in the living room as misa played pretend with her new puppy and hiroki was trying to set the new volleyball given to him that year. your husband nudged you a little, slipping his hand in yours and bringing it up for a kiss.

“merry christmas darling.” he winked at you as you laughed, looking at the time, getting up to put the christmas turkey into the over. in the kitchen you could hear the hushed voices of your kids along with their father.

you walked back into the room to see what they were up to and all of them straightened their backs, hiroki and misa holding something behind their backs.

“go on give mommy her gift.” hajime placed his hand on hiroki’s back and he stepped forward, pulling out a box.

“oh, i made a card too mommy!” the card in question was mostly just a picture that misa drew herself of your small family. of course there was hajime, standing tall with exaggerated spiked hair, with you right next to him, a small heart connecting both of you. then misa had drawn both herself and her brother holding ice cream cones, why? who knew but it was adorable.

“thank you so much babies! should i open the gift now?” both kids nodded vigorously as you shot a cheeky look to hajime. you sat down on the couch, hiroki wiggling in on your left and misa to your right.

“hm, i wonder what it could be...” you played along, slowly unraveling the ribbon keeping the box together. gasping when you saw it, you looked up at your family. “this is so pretty.”

“the kids helped me pick it out.” hajime rubbed the back of his neck as you picked up the small bracelet, “will you help me put it on?”

misa quickly ran over to your aid and snapped on the bracelet. you pecked her cheek and pulled hiroki in as well and planted a kiss on his cheek, to which he crinkled his nouse. “you too.” you smiled up at your husband who leaned down and kissed you.

both you children gagged slightly in a joking manner while you and hajime laughed at their expressions. you looked at the time.

“now you two need to go clean your room and get dressed— uncle issei and uncle takahiro are coming over for dinner.”

—

“alright, room check bug!” hajime called out before entering his daughters room. he held his fingers to his chin like he was deep in thought.

“hmm... nice work bug.” he swooped down rubbed her head causing her to jump.

“daddy your gonna ruin my hair!” she pouted, hajime took her up into his arms and laughed,

“you really are you mother’s daughter. let’s go see if your brother did just a good of a job.” he walked with misa in his grasp as he pushed open hiroki’s door.

the boy sat in front of his mirror, trying to properly button up his dress shirt. hajime placed misa down, telling her to go help you set the table.

“dad can you help me?” he frowned, flapping his arms down after failing to fix his shirt. hajime chuckeled, kneeling down.

“‘course bubs.” he smiled, carefully realigning the buttons so hiroki’s shirt would be even. hajime put his hands on his son’s shoulders, smiling profusely before giving him the same pat on the head that he gave his daughter.

the doorbell rang and hiroki’s head shot up, “uncle issei and uncle hiro are here!” he rushed out of his room and to the door.

hajime wasn’t too far behind as he met you and the children at the door. you fixed a clip in misa’s hair before opening the door.

mattsun and makki stood at the door, carrying gifts for the children and wine for the adults.

“for you two.” mattsun bent down and passed the two same size boxes as makki leaned forward, a nice bottle of wine, “and for the mr and mrs.” he handed you the bottle as the two stepped in and stood off both their coats and winter boots.

“how are the two of you?” mattsun asked, hands on his hips, watching the children shake the gifts trying to figure out what was inside.

“we’re doing good, come come, dinners already ready.” you guestured bringing everyone to the dinning table where the meal was spread out like you said.

“hope the drive up wasn’t too bad.” hajime mentioned, sitting down across from his high school friends. they shook their head.

misa ran to mattsun’s side, hiroki not too far behind, “can we open the gifts now?!” they were too hyper. mattsun looked at you two for approval and you nodded.

“go ‘head.” he smiled as the adults resumed their chit chat. hajime shook his head slightly as he saw his kids rip more wrapping paper from the corner of his eyes.

“you guys really didn’t have to, it’s bad enough oikawa spoils them all the way overseas.” they all laugh at the comment.

“mommy look we got remote control cars!” misa showed you, holding a red racer while hiroki held a blue one.

“don’t forget to say thank you.” hajime reminded them as they scurried to their uncles, bowing in thanks. it was almost like hajime could read their minds as he continued, “you two can race them after dinner.”

both pouted but listened to their dad nonetheless and silently the food was passed around. a quick ‘thank you for the food’ and everyone had dug in. it was a saying that the food was tasty is no one talked over the meal.

in this case, it was true. a few snickering comments and ‘hiroki use your napkin’ later everyone was stuffed.

“y/n the food was was..” hanamaki mimicked a chefs kiss before falling back in the chair. issei agreed, pouring himself another glass of wine.

you shook your head, thanking them for them for the compliment while misa tugged on hajime’s sleeve.

“daddy, can me ‘n hiroki race our cars now?” he nodded, “of course bug, just make sure not to break anything.” and like that they rushed off to give the toys a whirl.

mattsun and makki talked about how their jobs where going or in makki’s case, how the job search was going. bringing up how much the kids had grown since the last time they saw them, despite it not being that long. you laughed as they retold embarrassing stories from highschool. overall, the night was fun.

by 10:30 both misa and hiroki had gotten a bit bored of racing, finding their way back to the dinner table.

misa sat in hajime’s lap, tiredly flipping through pages of ‘volleyball monthly’ but mostly to just observe the picutres since she’d only just started learning to read.

“hey isn’t that uncle toru?” she asked, pointing to a picture, everyone laughed and nodded as hajime explained how he was playing for argentina and how they’d made it past the qualifiers for the olympics.

misa woke up slightly, “daddy will you teach me to play volleyball too?” it was in that moment that you could swear you saw tears in hajime’s eyes as he nodded in agreement.

his friends all smiled, seeing how truly soft iwaizumi had become. they’d always known him as a rough-around-the-edges sorta guy, who was a strict vice captain. now, he was just a strict coach but he was also a family man. they mentally applauded his duality.

the conversation slowly began to die down, hiroki had started to read a book he got, dismissing himself for bed while misa had managed to fall asleep on hajime’s lap.

“do you want me to take her up?” you offered but your husband shook his head, carefully getting up and carrying misa to her room.

“iwaizumi is a good dad.” matsukawa stated, leaning forward in his chair with a smile. you agreed, telling them all about it.

“i’m not surprised he’s managed to get them both into volleyball.” takahiro laughed as well.

“yup, hiroki just started volleyball lessons and misa’s still a bit too young but i’m sure hajime will keep that promise and teach her when she’s old enough.” you placed one hand over your other, feeling the wedding ring you adorned. “he really is a great father, just something else.”

while up in misa’s room, hajime has placed the 4 year old under the covers, placing her head gently on her pillow. he smiled, cautiously taking out her hair pins, scared they were going to hurt her if she turned over.

she had subconsciously grabbed ahold of the stuffed animal oikawa had gotten her and he smiled. hajime placed a kiss on her forehead, “‘night bug.” he whispered, too quiet to wake her as he turned on her nightlight and left the room.

his next stop was hiroki’s room, and not surprisingly he was already in his pajamas, under the covers. with his book in hand, he smiled when he saw his dad.

hajime sat on his bed, peeing at the book. “how’s the reading coming bubs?” he asked while hiroki yawned slightly.”

“it’s good dad, they’re about to go on a quest to stop the demon king.” he laid his head down on the pillow. hajime laughed, “i’m glad you’re enjoying it but it’s bed time now.”

hiroki nodded, placing his book mark where he left off, sliding it onto his nightstand. hajime couldn’t stop smiling.

“goodnight bubs, sleep tight.” he chuckeled, placing a kiss onto hiroki’s forehead, the boy’s eyes fluttering shut.

“goodnight dad, say goodnight to mommy too.” he turned on his side.

“will do.” he nodded, turning off the lights and making his way back to the dinning table.

once issei and takahiro had taken their leave, wishing them all the best you and your husband could finally unwind.

hajime’s kissed your shoulder playfully, smiling into you skin as you changed into pyjamas. you turned around, hugging him with all the energy that was left in you.

“your so good to us.” he said into you ear and you laughed.

“speak for yourself, haji.” you kissed him again, “you’re an exceptional dad.” he blushed at the comment, tugging you to bed and under the cover.

you found yourself in your usual spot, head on hajime’s chest with his large arms stayed snaked around you.

kissed were thrown back and forth, small conversation about how you two would need to burn off all the food that you ate today.

hajime lookedbdown and thought you were sleeping, pressing a kiss to your temple, you let out a small confession. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

you peaked your eyes open and his cheeks reddened realizing that you heard him.

“i don’t know either but i’m glad we have each other.” you laughed, pressing your ear to his heart beat.

“yeah, y/n, i love you so much.” he kissed you before slowly closing his eyes.

“i love you too.” and like that you two fell asleep together after celebrating another christmas with your beautiful children.

[nestasgalpal]

Dad’s birthday

Nessian month - Prompt: what did I do to deserve you?

Domestic Fluff  ||  Words: 1,667  ||  A03 link 

Tagging: it’s not the full life of Nessian kids, but it’s what I’ve got so far!! @imsointobooks @irenethaleia @bookstantrash @saltydreamcollector @azrielsgirl @gwynrielsupremacist @arinbelle @silvernesta @dustjacketmusings @vanserrasvalkyrie​ @darkshadowqueensrule​

Cassian was still asleep, but they should hurry up anyway.

Nesta hated waking up early, yet she had gotten out of bed, rushed to the kids’ rooms and made sure they were all prepared to finish up every detail for Cassian’s good-morning surprise before he woke up. And Cassian loved waking up early.

“Bregan, please, make sure your sister doesn’t fall.”

Nesta didn’t look up from the cake or the chocolate ganache she was spilling over it, but through the corner of her eye she could tell her oldest son was falling asleep once again in the opposite side of the kitchen island. Nesta marked with a pinch of pride how gracefully Bregan was keeping his equilibrium on the stool while one of his hands prevented his sister from falling down.

The baby, in the other hand, was playfully shaking a stuffed animal, perfectly awake. Olympia swayed mimicking its movement, clapping her hands off-rhythm.

“Are you sure you don’t need help with that, mom?” Bregan’s eyes were only half open. Just like Nesta, he hated being awakened so early in the morning. He and his brother had spent the day before hiking with Cassian to bring their father to the point of exhaustion and buy themselves some more time today to bake the birthday cake.

Of course, the hours walking through valleys had had their toll on them as well. Her sons weren’t trained soldiers, but barely teenagers, and the promise of unlimited chocolate today was probably the only thing that made them get out of bed so early.

Nesta considered waiting until she was done with the cake to wake them up, but she needed help watching the girls while she cooked. Also, she knew Bregan good enough to anticipate he would need time to wake. They were the same in that sense.

“Yes honey, just watch Oly for me while I finish this.” They had to whisper so Cassian didn’t hear the three of them in the kitchen from their bedroom on the floor above.

Bregan’s hair was a mess of dark brown strands. Nesta frowned. He was 16 now, he should know to brush his hair or at least be a little more tidy for his father’s birthday. It didn’t matter that all of them were wearing their pajamas... on the contrary, it made the appearance of their hair all more crucial.

Stretching over the cake in dangerous balance, she tried to make it better with her hand.

“Mom!” He complained. His sleepy voice made a rooster, to which Olympia answered with a laugh. That sound was music to Nesta’s ears, and it inevitably made her go soft. Maybe Bregan’s hair was okay, and not everything had to be oh so perfect.

The babe was entertained enough to not fall back asleep. She was probably the only one in the house who could say that.

Taking her out of her cradle had been so hard. Olympia’s big hazel eyes looked back at her not understanding why her mom was making her get up so early in the morning, the sky was still pitch black. She was 4 now, so Nesta wouldn’t blame her if she burst into tears because of her tiredness. Or the cold, since they were in the middle of the winter in their small house in the Illyrian Mountains.

But her children were tough.

Nesta didn’t know what she had done to deserve such blessing, but just like Bregan when he was her age, the babe hardly ever cried. A miracle, considering how loud the other two were at that age.

Loud steps approaching halted her movements. After making sure who the two sets of feet belonged to, she resumed her last task with the spatula.

“No!” Nicolas stopped Ashra’s mouth from crashing against the bottom layer of the cake when it was barely five inches away from it. She was the perfect height for her mouth to reach just above the kitchen island, and at the same time small enough to fit under Nesta’s arms and not be seen.

Luckily, Nicolas had better reflexes than his mother did, or Cassian’s cake would be crumbling down on her blondish short hair.

Ashra only laughed and flapped her wings to force her older brother to free her from his grip. Nicholas did, growling softly when she stepped on his feet as part of her landing and run away to hide under Nesta’s skirts. Nicolas kissed his mom’s cheek and went for a stool by his brother’s side.”Mornin’ mom. How long until it’s ready?”

“Can I have some cake?” Ashra interrupted, showing her mom a broad white smile that promised trouble.

“Once dad has blown the candles and opened his presents,” she answered with patience.

Ashra wasn’t like her siblings, she had the Archeron dark blonde hair and Nesta’s blue eyes. Unfortunately for Nesta, the only child who resembled her at all had inherited her father’s tendency for chaos and didn’t care as much for ladylike interests as she did for shiny daggers and colourful siphons. She also had Cassian’s beautiful smile to brighten up her mother’s morning. And his mother’s name.

“Can I have the first slice, then?”

Nesta squat down and kissed Ashra’s forehead, stroking her unbound hair -just as tangled as Bregan’s.

“You must ask dad for that” Nesta answered, knowing Cassian would gladly give his daughter the entire cake if she simply smiled at him. She would as well, hadn’t she woken up so early to bake it. “Nico, do you have the presents with you?”

The 15 year old boy nodded. His face on his hand, elbow on the counter holding the weight of his head. The hiking sure did wear them down. Knowing this, the boys had finished their hand-made present to Cassian weeks in advance without Nesta having to tell them, eager to contribute to the birthday surprise.

That had given Nesta time with the girls to prepare everything else and explain to Ashra what exactly they were going to do.

“Can I carry the boxes?” She was asking now.

“Some of them are heavy, Ash” Bregan got up from his stool and took the cake from Nesta’s hands when she finished garnishing it, winking at her. He was perfectly awake all of a sudden and a cocky grin adorned his face, “I got this!” He went for the stairs before she had time to respond.

Usually, Nesta wouldn’t trust him with a chocolate cake, but Olympia was still sitting on the kitchen island with the stuffed animal between her hands, looking at her mom, curious eyes inspecting her surroundings and not quite getting it. Her black hair was perfectly braided. Once again, she was the only one who could say so. Nesta hadn’t had time even for her own head of hair, which had been simply brushed.

Nesta lifted Oly and made her way to the staircase passing her eldest son. “Nico, give Ash one of the packages, please.”

He rolled his eyes, but did. The blond girl run to her mom and took her hand to climb up the stairs, the box in her other side. Whilst Bregan grew more and more extroverted and adventurous as time went by, Nicolas’ new-found teenage personality consisted on pretending he was already an adult that couldn’t be bothered with childish whims. It would be a lot more believable if it also translated to the mischief he, Bregan and their friends in Illyria frequently found themselves into. That trouble-making gene run through all her kids’ veins, no matter how quiet or loud they were.

With black hair and hazel eyes, he was the one who resembled Cassian the most. Although the gesture he made when he was exasperated and rolled his eyes was purely Nesta's.

She turned to face the boys when the five of them got to the door of their bedroom and urged them to be quiet. Ashra gave little jumps of excitement, the old wooden floors crackling under her light weight. She was the one to knock on the door and open it before she could hear any answer coming from Cassian inside.

As Ashra opened the door, Nesta could tell Bregan was trying his best not to be seen dipping one finger on the ganache.

Truth was, none of the kids did what they were told as the three of them launched themselves over the sleeping figure of their father in bed.

“Bregan, the cake!” she screamed in a whisper. The oldest Archeron kid had the decency to stop his running and placing it without any care over the bedside table.

“Happy birthday, dad!” The three of them screamed.

“Happy birthday” Olympia murmured slightly behind. The poor thing could barely keep her eyelids open. She made her way to the side of the bed, placing Oly by her side.

Cassian lazily maneuvered to catch Ashra before her knee landed on his sternum, her flight needing lots of practice. His wings were spread, stopping him from noticing Nico launching himself over both of them in bed and joining the hug, quickly followed by Bregan.

Nesta couldn’t stop the broad smile that filled her face as her entire family sited up in bed, the five people she loved the most in the world showing affection to one another so freely.

A strong tattooed arm found its way to her and pulled, so Nesta’s own body was against her mate’s chest. Cassian wrapped her in his arms, kissing her deeply. “Happy birthday” she whispered, their lips stil touching.

“Good morning” he answered, pressing his forehead to hers.  “Come here, monkey” Cassian took his youngest daughter from her mother’s arms with one hand, not letting Nesta go.

Feeling the warmth of his body against hers on that cold morning, the chocolate cake forgotten by everyone except hungry Ashra, Nesta heard Cassian reading her thoughts aloud “What did I do to deserve you?”, and knew she had gotten from life more than she could have ever dreamed of.

[ignitedbynatsu]

Violence Is Not The Answer... Or Is It?

A/N: I really let myself go with this one 🤭 @whatismatildethinkingabout I hope you like it! I’m sorry if you don’t want it as a prequel to your previous request I just had this idea and wanted to write it out 😅 thank you for requesting and the support! Don’t hesitate to stop by again! ❤️

Warnings: bullying, swearing, violence

Genre: angst with some comfort

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There was a new confidence brewing inside of Noah. The kids from Fairy Tail being the main reason for it. The way they showed that they were willing to learn sign language for him, someone they had never talked to before, melted his heart. It showed him that it was okay to be different. That he shouldn't be ashamed of his hearing loss. In fact, he slowly but surely started to accept it.

To prove that he was getting more independent, he wanted to show his parents that he was capable of going to town with just his friends. To say that Laxus and you were hesitant about this idea at first was an understatement, but when you saw the determination in his eyes, you couldn't refuse. He'll have to learn sooner or later, eventually. 

"Be back by sunset!" Lucy called after her daughter who was basically jumping at the entrance of the guild, ready to go.

You chuckled softly at their antics before turning to your son. "Be careful, okay? You do not need to feel ashamed if it gets scary or overwhelming and you wanna come back. Stay close to Nalu, okay?" You moved your hands accordingly to represent every word you spoke.

'I promise, I love you mommy' he promised before giving you a big hug.

Anxiousness filled your whole body as you watched your boy leave the guild with his new friends.

"They'll be fine, the kids will look out for him" Levy reassured you as she noticed your lingering stare.

"Nalu promised me she'll keep an extra eye on him. She feels responsible, saying it's her duty because she's the oldest" Lucy offered you a kind smile.

"Thank you. I'm so proud of him, and yet I'm terrified. After all, it's only been a couple of weeks since he opened up to the others" You confessed as you broke your gaze away from the big wooden doors to look at your friends.

"That's normal. I felt the same when the twins first went out" Juvia also joined the small group of mothers. "You just gotta trust him and the others. I'm sure everything will be fine"

However, after not even an hour in Magnolia, Noah had already lost the group in the sea of people. Sunday's were the busiest days for the town due to the market.

Looking for his small body in the crowd was near too impossible and calling out to him was also not an option, however, the Fairy Tail children did not intend to give up on their new friend. Partially because they were scared to face their parent's wrath, but mostly because they couldn't fathom how scared he must be.

Noah's eyes darted around him in a desperate attempt to catch even a glimpse of the others, but it was hopeless. They were nowhere in sight.

While scanning his surroundings, the smaller mage wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, resulting in him bumping into someone.

"Watch where you're going, loser" the older boy snapped at Noah who didn't understand a word he was saying. "What? You're not even going to apologize?"

The child moved his hands to spell out that he was sorry and couldn't understand him, but this only made the elder boy laugh "guys, take a look at this, we got ourselves a deaf kid"

His friends soon surrounded Noah, making him cower in fear at so many unknown faces and no way to communicate. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

A hand firmly pushed Noah forward, signalling him to follow what he presumed was their 'leader' to a more abandoned street.

Fear washed over him as he took in his unknown surroundings. What were they gonna do to him? That question was quickly answered as soon as he got pushed down to the ground.

"I heard some money rattling" a girl from the group piped up as they stood a bit more to the side, shielding the event that was happening before them from prying eyes.

Sure enough, Laxus and you had given him some money to buy something he'd fancied at the market, but that got quickly snatched away the moment the remark left the girls mouth.

In a desperate attempt to take back the money, he let electricity crackle around his fingers ready to shoot it at the boy in front of him, but it was futile. The boy noticed the spark and stepped on his hand in an attempt to make him stop, this earned him a cry from Noah. From that moment, he decided it was best to not agitate them further and to just obey them to the best of his abilities. 

The elder boy removed his foot from Noah's hand and crouched in front of him, tilting his head slightly to the side as he observed the scared child in front of him "you really are pathetic aren't ya? No hearing, not being able to stand up for yourself, and apparently your magic isn't even that good. People like you don't belong here. You're a hindrance. A weight that drags people down. No wonder why mommy and daddy left you to wander the streets alone"

Even though Noah couldn't hear a thing, the way the leaders' friends laughed when he was done talking, was enough proof that he had said something to mock him.

"Oi! What the fuck do you think you're doing" Nalu voice ringed through the nearly empty street. 

"Shit, it's the Fairy Tail kids" one of the members mumbled as they took notice of the said children.

Their leader glanced at Noah one last time before motioning his group to follow him "let's just go"

Tobi and Mei were quickly by Noah's side, examining his wounds, while Nalu's eyes trailed the retrieving group, her orbs were swimming with hatred. How could anyone do such a thing? Let alone to such an innocent kid like Noah.

The shaken up child finally let out the sobs he was holding in for so long, clinging on to Mei in the process who was softly stroking his hair. Her eyes shot to the others in an attempt to ask for help. "Let's go somewhere else"

Tobi carefully helped Noah up as they followed Nalu to a more secluded place in the park, giving them the privacy they needed. "Noah, what happened?" Mei carefully matched her hand movements with what she was saying as they all waited patiently for his response.

After his explanation, he made the other children promise to not tell their parents what happened. He didn't want to feel like he was an even bigger burden than he already was. Even though he was still very young, he knew his parents had to go out of their way so many times just so they could satisfy his needs. He felt selfish and stupid. Why wasn't he just normal? All the confidence that he had built up over the past weeks had crumbled down in just this one moment.

Once Noah had calmed down, they decided it was best if they headed back to the guild. Defeated and unsure what to do with the situation, they each went their separate ways when they set foot in Fairy Tail.

At first, the parents didn't think anything strange from it, but when Noah broke all contact with the others and went back to his insecure and timid self, they knew something was up.

You had tried talking to him, trying to break down his walls that were seemingly higher than before, but he always shut you down, burying his head deeper in your side in an attempt to avoid confrontation. In a final attempt to understand what was going on, you voiced your concerns with the other mothers, who in their turn questioned their kids.

It was only when the youngest, Kai, Levy and Gajeel's kid, broke down, that they realised that this wasn't just an ordinary fight or dispute.

"Nalu, enough with this so-called 'everything is fine act'. You tell us what's going on right now. I won't ask again" she knew that when her father got involved and serious, the situation was way graver than what she had originally anticipated.

"Noah got separated from us at one point when we were walking around the market. We did everything we could to find him, but when we did, we saw that he was getting bullied by some older kids" she confessed with her eyes cast to the ground, she was ashamed that she couldn't fulfil her promise to look out for Noah. Nalu didn't care that she broke her promise to Noah. She didn't like that he was distancing himself from them again. If getting the adults involved meant getting their friend back, so was willing to take the risk.

Noah was placed on your hip, hands clutching your shirt as if his life depended on it. He knew they were talking about him, about what had happened. He couldn't be mad at Nalu for breaking their promise 'cause he knew the truth had to come out sooner or later. He just wished it would've been later.

"I'm going to murder that punk" Laxus seethed as he thought about how scared Noah must've felt at that moment. How could anyone do such a thing and think it's okay?

"That's not an option, and you know it. I'm just as upset as you are, but violence is not the answer." You stated calmly as you rocked your body softly along with Noah's.

"How can you say such a thing when they hurt our son!? How can you be so calm about this?" Laxus fumed, unable to understand how you weren't as livid as him. Truth be told, you were nowhere near calm, in fact, you were just as livid as him, but you had to keep your cool. If you'd let your emotions take the upper hand, you'd just upset Noah more, and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Stop it. Both of you." Lucy hissed "Fighting amongst yourselves isn't going to help this situation, nor is it going to help Noah"

"You're right" you agreed "We're going home. I don't need you to upset him even more. Come back when you've cooled down" With that, you left the guild with Noah still on your hip, your arms wrapped around him a little tighter than normal. 

"Unbelievable" Laxus sighed in frustration at your attitude.

"Look, I know where you're coming from, but (Y/N) is right, violence isn't the answer" Gajeel stated, earning a sharp glare from the blonde before continuing "but, no harm is done when we go pay them a visit and I don't know... Maybe threaten them a bit, am I right?"

The sinister glint that sparked in the iron dragon slayer was enough to get Laxus to agree along with the other fathers. Those kids had chosen the wrong child to mess with.

You can only imagine the shock Noah and you experienced when those bullies stopped by the guild the next day to apologize for what they had done. They even had learned how to say sorry in sign language.

"Laxus" you narrowed your eyes at your husband "what did you do"

"I didn't use violence if that's what you're asking" he smirked as he slung an arm around your shoulder "you didn't say anything about threatening, though"

You were about to scold him, telling him how even though you did absolutely not condone those bullies their actions, especially since it was against your child, they were still just kids, but you quickly shut up when Nalu stepped in and swung her right arm forward, her right fist colliding with the nose of the group's leader.

Nalu, Tobi and Kai stood in front of them while Mei stood next to Noah, explaining everything that was being said with her hands "They may only be able to threaten you 'cause they're adults and you're still just children, but that doesn't count for us" Nalu's eyes held the same rage when she first laid eyes on them when they stood over Noah's defenceless body.

"If you ever dare to lay a hand on our friend again, we won't hesitate to break more than just your nose, are we clear?" Tobi finished their threat.

"Yes," his eyes were wide, like a deer that got caught in headlights. His friends all cowered behind him. 

"Now scram!" Kai yelled at which they hurriedly made their way out of the guild.

As on cue, all the kids their names were called out by their mothers, each and every one of them earning a scolding, while their fathers were stood on the side, stifling their laughter and a look of pride plastered upon their face.

Noah looked at his friends with newfound wonder. They stood up for him. They thought that he was deserving enough to get in trouble for. They called him their friend.

As tears were forming in the brim of his eyes, he ran forward to his friends, not caring if they were in the middle of getting scolded and tackled them all in a hug.

A sob passed Noah's lips, letting out all the stress and emotions that he had cropped up since the incident. This resulted in an even tighter group hug from the others.

Noah was the first to break apart 'thank you all for what you did to me' his hand moved ever so smoothly as he told them how grateful he was even though words, or even hand gestures, couldn't describe how he truly felt.

"That's what friends are for" another hug followed as soon as Mei's hands stopped moving.

"I guess violence was the option" Laxus mumbled in your ear as he hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder in the progress.

"Don't ruin the moment" you flicked his head softly, earning a chuckle from him.

Fairy Tail had proven once again that they weren't just a guild filled with friends, no, they were a family. A family you do not want to mess with.

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: This was a request by @fiiiinewine . Mentions of charector death for Hogwarts Mystery and canon. It’s a little angsty, but overall it’s pretty good. Takes place maybe 1-3 years after the seventh book. Hope you like it!

- Molly wraps you up in a warm hug the second she opens the door.

- “Mum I’m here too.” Charlie adds, and she just shushes him.

- She pats him on the shoulder before leading you both inside. The house is completely spotless. Which you don’t doubt is because Molly’s been tirelessly cleaning.

- “Anything to eat dear? Must have been a long journey.”

- And before you can even answer she grabs both of your arms and gives a tender squeeze.

- “Thin as bones,” she mutters. “What are they feeding you in Romania? Broth?”

- “I mean, yeah, there’s always soup.”

- And she clicks her tongue.

- “Soup isn’t proper food dear, it isn’t even proper food before a meal.”

- You laugh and assure her that you’re eating enough and everything is fine.

- “What about me Mum, I eat the same things as (Y/N) does.” Charlie mocks hurt at the lack of attention.

- Molly just rolls her eyes.

- “You’ll be fine, you and Bill once “went camping” with pack of biscuits for a week and came back even plumper then you were when you left.”

- Charlie just rolls his eyes and takes your bags up the stairs. And you go with Molly to the kitchen.

- “Molly do you need help with anything?” Long have the days gone where you call her Mrs. Weasley and she tells you “Call me Molly!”

- “Oh please, call me Mom, you and Charlie have been together long enough.” She says with a wave of her hand and you almost laugh. Somethings don’t change.

- You stand beside her in the small kitchen measuring ingredients for for cookies.

- “So when are you and Charlie thinking of giving me some grandchildren?” She’ll ask, and you stutter to a stop, nearly dropping the measuring cup as you do.

- “I-I think you should ask Bill and Fleur that first shouldn’t you?”

- “Just because he’s the oldest?” She asks, a corner of her mouth quirking up.

- “Well, also because they’re married.” And she scoffs.

- “It’s the 21st century (Y/N), marriage doesn’t mean what it used to.” She shrugs, taking the measuring cup full of flour you’ve extended towards her.

- You never thought that Molly Weasley would have such progressive views. She’s been a fairly traditional homemaker and housewife for much of her adult life.

- “Besides Bill has shifted back to Egypt to work on his curses, not a stable environment for a child right now.” You smile, also too far away for Molly to go visit everyday.

- “Well you’ve always got Percy.” You day with a chuckle, earning a scoff from her.

- “With the formality between those two it’ll be years before I even see them hold hands, let alone a baby.”

- And you both laugh at that.

- Before she can talk more about marriage or babies or any other topic you are completely unprepared for, Charlie comes bumbling through the door.

- “Making cookies?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, pulling out a spoon from the drawer before dipping it into the mixing bowl.

- “Without me? Your beloved son who loves baking more than anything in the world?” He smirks as his mother hits him with a wooden spoon lightly, taking a bite of raw sugar cookie dough.

- “What can I do, you love helping so much you always polish it off before I can even bake it.” Her words are stern, but you can see the cheerful twinkle in her eyes.

- She hits him again with the spoon and he laughs.

- “Well I’ll have to take over for (Y/N), Dad’s outside ecstatic that they’re here.”

- You nod, a grin spreading across your face. You’ve been expecting to talk to him about muggles ever since you arrived.

- You pull of your apron, and hand it to Charlie, exchanging a warm look as you do.

- You vaguely hear: “It’s like they’re already part of the family” and you feel a smile spread across your face.

- Arthur is in the living room, scanning a newspaper. And he smiles wide when he see’s you.

- He stands and envelops you in a warm hug, and you note how he smells like old books and honeysuckle.

- “So good to see you, how’ve you been?”

- And you tell him that you’re doing well. That life in Romania is good, that Charlie seems happy. And he smiles.

- “So when are you two planning on getting married.” And you practically choke on your tea.

- “You know your wife just asked me a similar question in the kitchen.” You laugh, but feel a hear creeping up your neck.

- “Oh she’s my wife and no one to you?” He jokes. “That’s your future mother-in- law you know.”

- You can’t help but laugh.

- Charlie’s in the kitchen, rolling the cookie dough out, sprinkling some more flour on top.

- “Are we the first ones here?” He asks, and Molly nods.

- “Ginny, Harry and George will be here tonight, Ron and Percy will be here tomorrow.” She waves her wand, and the rolling pin begins to move on his own.

- “Spent too long in Romania, you’ve forgotten you can use magic.” She chuckles, and Charlie laughs as well as he blushes.

- “(Y/N) always does it by hand so I didn’t realize.” He murmurs, and Molly smiles.

- Charlie’s freckled face is practically glowing red, his dark red hair cut clean, his beard well trimmed. He looks good.

- “You know, (Y/N) would make someone a fine (Daughter/Son) in law.” And Charlie has to stifle the urge to roll his eyes.

- “They don’t want to get married yet Mum.” He mumbles, grabbing a cookie cutter to press shapes into the dough.

- Molly Weasley’s mouth purses into a long straight line.

- “They don’t want to get married yet, or you don’t?” It’s a pointed question, but her tone is soft.

- A long moment of silence falls between them.

- “They feel strange getting married without Jacob or their parents being there.” Charlie finally breaks the silence.

- “And I feel strange getting married without Fred being there too.” This part leaves much softer, and Molly’s mouth begins to relax into small smile.

- “I suppose I should just be glad Bill had the common sense to get married before.” And Charlie almost scoffs.

- “Is that what we’re calling it? Because at the time I remember seeing you tangled in Christmas lights, muttering “the things you do for love””

- Molly lightly shoves her son and they both laugh.

- When the others arrive is when the fun really starts.

- Warm hugs are passed all around.

- Ginny practically squeals when she see’s you.

- “You’ve gotten so thin! And your hair is so shiny!” She looks at you with wide eyes, expecting to divulge all your secrets but you just shrug.

- “Air in Romania is very clean.” Is the best you can offer.

- Harry offers a polite hug, and George practically wrestles you into a headlock with his bear hug.

- “I’ve got some Products I need your advice on!” He says with a big grin, and you smile back.

- “We’ll stay up after they’ve all gone to bed” You nod.

- There’s hot cocoa, and games of wizard chess, jokes and laughter.

- And you smile when Charlie grabs your hand and gives a tight squeeze.

- You and Charlie are split up when the sleeping arrangements are being made. He’s taken away by a grumbling George, who’s wrapped his arms around his shoulders

- “(Y/N) would be better but you’ll have to test out some new products I’m working on.”

- You and Ginny share her room, sleeping side by side on the bed.

- “Are you and Charlie ever going to get married?” She asks, and you can’t help but let out a groan.

- “Oh not you too!”

- She props up on an elbow

- “It’s a serious question you know, how long have you been dating anyway?”

- And you have to use your fingers to count the years.

- “Hmm eight? No maybe nine.” And Ginny huffs

- “Don’t you think that’s long enough?”

- You sigh, Ginny’s so much younger then you. She may not understand.

- “Well for a few years we were long distance you know.” You tell her, through the dark room you can make out one of her bright red eyebrows raised.

- You sigh again. Might as well be honest.

- “For a while we actually were thinking about it.” You admit, and even through the dark you can see her perk up. “But then-“ you have to still your breath.

- “But then Jacob passed away,” you finally manage, and the words don’t hurt like they used to. “And then my parents,” And this doesn’t seem to hurt as much either. “And then Fred.” You whisper. This one, this wound is still fresh. And you know it’s fresh for her too.

- She doesn’t say anything back.

- Her hand tangles in your own and gives it a firm squeeze.

- The silence is only broken when she says:

- “So no nieces or nephews either then? You don’t need to be married to have kids you know.”

- They really are family

- You just roll your eyes.

- “Maybe we’ll bring home a dragon or something. Molly can knit it a sweater and everything.”

- The next day starts late and lazy, all gathered around the table having a simple breakfast of toast and fruit, glasses of juice and coffee traded along the table.

- You practically run towards him when Bill comes home.

- “You smell like a tomb.” You tel him and he grins.

- “Better than when we were in the cursed vaults at least.” He grins back.

- Fleur kisses both your cheeks and you giggle.

- “‘Ow ‘as Romania been?” She asks, squeezing your arms. “You ‘ave lost weight, yes?”

- Everyone in this family,

- you suppress a giggle as she moves to Charlie. His perplexed expression as she kisses each of his cheeks as well.

- “You know Bill, I still don’t get how you pulled that one off.”

- “Neither do I.” He admits.

- Percy arrives last with Ron, and gives you an awkward hug. Ron giving you a slightly warmer hug, blushing and asking you about the cursed vaults.

- You all stay up until midnight, reminiscing about your days at school. Sharing mugs of tea and cocoa, smiling and joking.

- You exchange gifts at midnight. You get another sweater from Molly, but you don’t miss the way she snatches the significantly smaller sweater she knitted with “W” on it, out of the bag before you notice.

- You give Arthur a stack of muggle encyclopedias , and a warm coat from Romania

- George gives you a bag full of candy and several “Weasley’s Fire Crackers”

- You give him a bag full of Romanian prank shop goods.

- “Hey Charlie what does this say?”

- “I donno mate, but if you use it you’ll find out yeah?”

- You give Ginny a chic overcoat she can wear for colder days on the quidditch pitch.

- “How come this says it’s from you and Charlie?” She asks, and you shrug.

- “Charlie just put his name on it after you got it didn’t he?”

- “Yeah, pretty much.”

- You give Percy a first edition copy of his favorite book, and almost smile when you see his expression. He almost reminds you of the boy you knew in school.

- Ron gets a quidditch jersey, and you give Harry an enchanted pen.

- “A pen?” He asks, he’s not complaining. It’s a nice pen, he’s gotten quite tired of the quills these days.

- “An enchanted pen, you need a strand of hair from someone. And wherever you write on your body, will show up in the same spot on them.”

- “So you know, if you and Ginny are ever apart, you can always send her a message.”

- You did it more for Ginny then for him really. You remember the thrill you felt when you first saw Charlie’s chicken scratch handwriting on your arm after being apart for months.

- Bill gives you an enchanted mirror from Egypt, so you can see whatever it is you want to look at.

- “Let’s be honest Bill, this is really more for Charlie so he can look at the Dragons in the middle of the night without waking me.”

- “It’s for you too, now you won’t have to get up and go with him”

- Fleur give you French perfume and hand cream.

- “Something you ‘vil actually use.”

- You laugh and smile, and grin as you exchange gifts and try them on. Tease each other and blow up fireworks in the backyard.

- It’s only at three in the morning, when everyone else is snug in bed, that you tip toe out of bed. Careful not to wake Ginny.

- Charlie’s already waiting for you downstairs, his eyes bloodshot as he takes a sip of Father’s fire whisky.

- “How is it, that even though we are in the same house, I feel like I’ve seen you for about thirty minutes in the past two days.” He mumbles, his face in your hair, letting out a deep sigh as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

- You settle beside him, your head on his shoulder.

- “Maybe I’d spend more time with you if you actually got me a Christmas present.” You smile teasingly as you rest your chin on his chest, gazing up to look at him.

- You feel his hand tangle with yours, his hands playing with your fingers.

- “I thought you said no gifts this year?” He grins back teasingly, but his eyes are focused on your hand.

- “Well we kinda broke the bank with everyone else’s.” You chuckle, and take a deep breath, taking in his scent.

- Even after all these years he still smells like honeysuckle and grass. He smells like home.

- You shut your eyes, taking in his scent and his warmth. Nearly humming in pleasure. When you feel something cold and hard touch the tip of your ring finger.

- Your eyes open, as you feel it slide down to the base of you finger, where your finger and palm meet.

- you glance down to see a rather remarkable diamond ring sparkling on your finger.

- Charlie holds you close, one arm around your shoulders, while the other hand rests over yours.

- “So what do you say? I feel like we’ve been married for a while now really, why don’t we make it official.”

- You just smile.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 5. Memories

A/N: So, we are on day 5 of SNAPEMAS and I have a little longer fic for you today! Fair warning though, it is very mixed between joy and sorrow because I try to shine some light on tough subjects with my writing. I know it's a jolly time of year but it is also around this time of year many suffer - often in silence. So, with that said, I hope you enjoy this one!

Setting: Your home on a little hill covered in snow, Christmas morning

Pairing: Snape x Wife!Reader

ABBR.: │(y/n) - Your Name │

Word count: 4240

Warnings: Sexual content, Angst, Sorrow, Mentions of miscarriage, Fluffiness & Cute stuff

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Christmas, it's finally here! It was the first thing you thought as you woke from a soft slumber next to your husband. It was still early, pitch black outside despite the heavy layer of snow you knew was just beyond the frost-covered window. You sighed, completely content as you snuggled up next to Severus. His arms snaked lazily around you as he grumbled a 'good morning' with that raspy voice you adored.

You kissed his chest as you were tucked into him, your head heavy on his pale shoulder. "Good morning hubby," you purred and you saw a little smile tug at his thin lips. Your fingers traced idle circles on his chest, swirling in the black chest hair you always loved to drag your fingers through. He chuckled and moved his free hand to be beneath his head.

"How long do you think we have?" he murmured and it vibrated through your skin where your head rested against him. "'dunno, an hour maybe," you whispered back, he chuckled. "That's more than enough." Before you knew it he was on top of you. He held up his weight with his arms on either side of you as he snuggled in between your warm legs. Fitting perfectly together.

You giggled as your arms snaked around him; your warm hands landed on each of his shoulders before you moved them down his scarred back. You barely noticed all the marks he bore any longer. They were a part of him and nothing with him could be ugly. Not even the near-white marks that covered most of his back. You knew what memories they carried and you had been determined, from the first time you saw them, to take away his pain. As he did yours.

His lips travelled down your temple, cheek and jaw; ventured down your throat as he purred against you. A soft moan escaped you as one of his hands stroked down your ribs and hip; then up again. "Severus," you whispered and he hummed. "I love you," was his answer to your call of his name before his head dipped further down to your breasts as he kissed, licked and nibbled. "I love you too," you panted softly as your hands grabbed on to his back. Your nails slightly dug in and he moaned against your warm skin.

He ventured further down and your opening was slick with want. A feverish need pounded in you as he stirred you awake in every way possible. You loved him dearly. The perfect man that was yours to love and cherish, to care for and support. As he did for you in all ways possible. The way he made you tremble with arousal was just the biggest of bonuses. He was masterful in the art of seduction and just as skilled when it came to the actual deed. He never left you unsatisfied if he could help it.

"Oh, Sev, please," you pleaded as he suckled and licked at your most sensitive spot. As he tenderly stroked and sucked the little bundle of nerves. Your body stiffened ever so slightly as he hummed against you. It was a far better experience than any vibrating toy could ever give you. Could there be a better way to start of Christmas? No, no I don't think so...

"I love-" Just as he was about to say something you both froze. Then in a flurry of movements, he threw himself up and you both snuggled up to each other pretending to be asleep. You tried to calm your body and breathing, he was trying to do the same. You both inhaled and exhaled a long, deep breath and just a second later your door gently squeaked open. Just as you both were able to scold your faces into sleeping masks.

You pretended to be asleep as little feet padded the floor on their journey towards your bed. The mattress bent and the bed groined a bit as a little body climbed onto it.   "Mommy," a sing-song voice whispered. You feigned sleep and tried with all your might not to smile. "Mommy," the little voice whispered again, a little louder. But you did not stir. You knew to lay still and be quiet, pretend to sleep as this, this very moment, was your husbands favourite part of Christmas morning.

The bed dipped, someone small crawled over you and snuggled in between yourself and Severus. "Daddy?" the little voice whispered, "daddy wake up." You felt Severus stir as he feigned waking up with a grunt. "What is it my little princess?" he murmured with that raspy voice and you laid still, listened. Tried to still the yearning and pounding Severus had stirred in you a moment earlier. "I can not sleep," your daughter whispered with a sigh. Severus chuckled and you knew it was because she spoke like him. Said each word. She never used 'can't' or 'won't', not even 'I'll'. No, she spoke every word just like her father. Except if she was mad. Then it was a splurge of words of all kinds.

"You can not sleep, you say?" You felt the nod she gave. "Should we go and make breakfast then?" Severus continued in a hushed tone, "so mommy can sleep?" "Mommy is sleeping hard," your daughter said with a sigh and Severus chuckled. "She is indeed," he whispered and your daughter giggled as you presumed he gave her a little tickle or kiss to the top of her head. "Come on then." They both left the bed with muffled steps and you knew Severus was holding her hand and in her other hand his old, nearly worn out, pyjama pants of black silk was most likely clutched and trailed after her.

She had never had a teddy bear to fall asleep with or anything like that. No, your daughter had laid claim to Severus's pyjama pants when she was no more than 7 months old. His favourite pair. But he had given them up freely. You smiled at the memory of his shocked eyes as your daughter had screamed and screamed only to fall asleep instantly when you gave her the pants. They smelled of her father and it soothed her immensely. Since then, the king had lost his garment to the little princess who refused to share.

The door closed and you heard the stairs groan under their weight as you turned over and sighed. Sure, you had not had the satisfaction of sweet release but you had so much more to feel content about. So as you layed there you allowed memories to flash by. Some happy and some sad. Some horrible and some wonderful.

Your mind drifted away to Christmas's passed. The first Christmas you had ever spent with Severus had been a, well, trial. He had said no to music, no to garlands, no to Christmas cookies and star-shaped lamps. No to a tree and no to a party. He had blocked you at every turn as you had tried your darndest to decorate his house at Spinner's End.

Well, he lost that battle and every Christmas battle since, you thought as a chuckle escaped you. You had gone up at two in the morning and decorated the whole damn house in red, green and silver. Everywhere hung decorations, in the oven cookies were being baked and from the radio in the kitchen came soft Christmas music. You had ordered a tree to be delivered at exactly six in the morning as Severus was a bit of a sleepyhead back then and usually didn't get up until after nine in the morning.

You had moved some furniture and placed the tree smack in the middle of the living room and boy oh boy had it been decorated. There were all kinds of decorations and so much glitter you could barely see the tree beneath it all. The house was a Christmas Wonderland by the time Severus shuffled down from the bedroom and his face. HIS FACE! I can still not get over it, you thought and you had to muffle a laugh with your hand not to be too loud.

He had looked utterly outraged and shocked. His exact words were 'What devil has spewed Christmas all over MY house?! (y/n)! What have you done to my house, you wicked woman!' You had stood your ground and the minute he had whipped out his wand to take it all down you had snatched it and ran into the kitchen where the smell of cookies hit him like a wall of sweetness. And you knew, the battle had been won when he saw the gingerbread heart decorate with glace that spelt 'I love you, my sweet Grinch'.

He had choked on a rumbling laugh and he seemed to have lost the anger and outrage as he gingerly looked at the cookie you had made only for him. That saved my arse, you chuckled again as the clear sounds of breakfast in the making reached you from downstairs. "Daddy, I ... ham ... plate..." You could hear some of the words your daughter was uttering but the unmistakable sound of Severus's praise was impossible to miss.

More feet clapped and thudded against creaking floorboards. "Oh boy, you have your hands full now my Grinch," you chuckled and how right you were. Jolly voices rang through the house, chaos broke out as apparently everyone was awake and up - ready for Christmas. You heard the unmistakable sound of begging with words of gifts. Then grumbling about waiting only to be followed by shouting and feet stomping the floor.

Three, two, one- "Go get mommy!" There it is, my queue to save my poor husband, and here comes the cavalry! The door burst open and several little bodies filled the bed. "Mommy! Mommy! It's Christmas!" a boyish voice with a high pitch rang out and you opened your eyes only to grab all of your kids and gave them kisses as they struggled to get away while laughing. "It is my little darlings, it is!" you said with joy as you looked at your daughter and your three sons.  Happiness filled your chest and you could barely keep the tears away. You had not always been so fortunate as to have a family, to have children. There was a time when you feared it would never happen.

Jacob, your oldest son of nine years, fortunately broke your train of thought as he pulled on your arm. "Let's go, mommy! Daddy says we can't have our gifts yet!" he hollered with a disgruntled sneer he had learnt from his father long ago. He was adorable with his father's black hair and your eyes paired with his pale skin. "Daddy said so! Daddy's mean!" Ethan and William declared at the same time, their twin behaviour was getting almost spooky. Despite only being seven years old they already acted like one - no matter how hard you tried to make sure they always knew they were their own individual persons.

You sighed and shook your head, "daddy is not mean. Daddy is very nice and loves you very much. Don't hurt his feelings like that." The twins looked a little sad at that but seemed to quickly shake it off with a hasty nod. "Mommy, can you come now?" You looked at your daughter, little Elisa who had slid off the bed and stood next to your head. You smiled and nodded. "Let's go make sure daddy has set the table properly guys," you said and the cavalry filed out of the room in a thunder of hurried steps as the twins raced each other to get to the kitchen first; despite the fact you called after them not to run.

In the kitchen, Severus was preparing tea and coffee while your children messed up the table setting as they moved things around to their liking. You leaned against the door jamb as you watched the chaos that was your family. Your perfect little home with the messy fridge covered in the children's art, the worn floorboards, the creaking cabinets and that one drawer that wouldn't fully close in the little kitchen. There laid toys here and there, books as well. Now during Christmas times, there was even more stuff everywhere as you were crazy for Christmas decorations and your children seemed to have inherent that as well. But it was your mess, your family's things and it made you smile.

"Ah, there you are, about time," Severus smiled as he filled your cup with tea and his own with pitch-black coffee. "Hot chocolate! Hot chocolate!" Elisa hollered as she tugged on her fathers pants before you had had any time to answer him. "Alright, alright. Easy does it," Severus chuckled and gave you a silent look. You nodded and started to prepare the hot chocolate as all the kids swarmed towards you with their favourite mugs in their little hands. they were all twinkling eyes and wide smiles as they were dressed in their Christmas pyjamas and slippers.

You made each cup to their liking. Elisa's with rainbow marshmallows. Jacob's with whipped cream and chocolate powder on top. The twins, Ethan and William, preferred theirs with an extra scoop of chocolate and exactly five blue marshmallows. No more, no less. "Careful now," you chided as they started to walk towards the table with their filled mugs and they all slowed down so as not to spill the warm drink.

Again, it was chaos. Elisa only wanted Severus to make her breakfast, Jacob wanted to have more of everything, the twins wrestled for the same pieces of ham to put on their sandwiches but all were happy. And once everyone had what they wanted a soft silence fell as you all enjoyed a hearty breakfast while the littler radio played soft carols in the background.

You sipped your tea and nibbled on a sandwich as you made sure the kids sat properly and didn't flail their arms about too much. Severus gave you sweet looks and little smiles whenever little Elisa allowed him to not be fully occupied by her talk of reindeer and snowmen.

It didn't take long for the nagging about Christmas gifts began. You simply rolled your eyes, it was the same thing every year. The kids were always so preoccupied with the thought of gifts that they somehow always missed checking their stockings and you never reminded them before breakfast, always after. You had done that mistake only once and would never do it again as the whole breakfast was ruined. The kids only played with the things they had received instead of eating. It had been a mess and a struggle to get a Christmas breakfast that year.

So you smiled and hummed, added little words like 'oh no' and 'really' when needed as the kids babbled about everything they could possibly think of to try and persuade you to give them their gifts. Breakfast was always like that - full of talking that is - but on Christmas, you actually let them babble for as much as they wanted. It was a time for freedom and joy, not reprimands and silencing. And, who wouldn't want their children to feel like they always can speak to their parents? About anything. Well, you wanted them to feel that they could do just that.

When breakfast had been cleared away and you were about to tell the kids to check their stockings Jacob shrieked before you even had a chance to say anything. "Stockings! WE HAVE STOCKINGS!" he hollered loudly and for a moment everything was quiet and still. Then the cavalry literally ran to the fireplace where six stockings hung. You chuckled as both you and Severus followed silently. Holding freshly filled cups of tea and coffee respectively.

The kids played with their morning toys - a tradition your family had had for many generations. As a child you didn't think much of it but now that you yourself had children you understood why the tradition came to be in the first place. To keep the little ones calm, and occupied, for a few hours. Until they get the bulk of the gifts, you thought with a smile and a swift glance around the room.

Around your wrist were a silver bracelet, it had waited in your stocking. The chain was adorned with little letters in between even spaces. All the first letters of your children's names. Your husband had always been a thoughtful and caring gifter so you were not surprised to find something you wanted without even having known you wanted it to begin with in your stocking. He, on the other hand, was enjoying a rather hefty book. A muggle book to be precise; a collection of classics from Charles Dickens, Bram Stroker and Jane Austen.

Your husband would never admit it but he adored classical romance with all it's intricate emotions and linguistics. So you bough collection edition for him; just so he could pretend it was the other stories that fascinated him rather than the once with a lot of romance. Even if those were the ones he read over and over. In this particular collection 'Pride & Prejudice' was the most romantic story and you already saw him skipping to the latter half of the book to read it.

As you sat there -the kids played, your husband read and you enjoyed a fresh cup of peppermint tea - memories flooded in again as the happiness you felt poked at the less happy times that seemed to always linger in the back of your head. No matter what you did to cast those memories out. They were, truly, useless as they held no sway any longer. They were healed wounds. Merely scars now.

However, they pulled you back to the third Christmas you had had with Severus, the first one as a married couple. It wasn't a happy Christmas. The gifts he had given were perfect, the food delicious and the house sparkled with decorations as a hefty smell of gingerbread cookies filled the air. He had done it all. Severus that is. You, you had barely had the energy to get out of bed.

It was the first Christmas you could remember not being jolly, or singing, or dancing. Not baking or cooking or decorating. No, you had been curled up under heavy blankets with one of Severus's sweaters tightly held to your chest as you sobbed and cried for hours.  

The memory made you shudder, Severus noticed from the other side of the little living room. "Love?" he asked in that worried tone of his, "are you cold?" You shook your head but grabbed a blanket to put over your folded legs anyway. He arched a brow and you gave him a tight smile before your eyes returned to rest on the children, as they were playing on the rug before you. I'm so happy I have all of you, my little darlings...

But no matter how happy you were the memory kept pressing, as it had done every Christmas. Your children reminded you of it, more often than you cared to admit. But you didn't hold that against them and you never spoke of it. With them, your husband or anyone else.

It was 12 years ago and you preferred not to utter a word about it. After all, why speak of such horrible things as miscarriages with the lovely little humans that were your children. Why torment yourself and your husband with words of what was lost when there has been so much gain afterwards. It was just useless. And, usually, the memories faded away hurriedly after you just let them play out. It was still hard to allow them through.

But you remembered. Always remembered the pain, horror and dread from losing a child before it even arrived in the world. The emptiness, that hollow feeling where something - someone - would always be missing. You had only been three months pregnant when it happened. But the fact it had happened a mere two days before Christmas seemed to make the experience even worse. And now, now those memories were at their peak around the happiest time of the year.

But you never let it take over and you always cherished what you had. Four beautiful children, a loving husband and a warm place to call home. After all, some unlucky souls never got children. No matter how hard they tried or how many times they manage to get pregnant or how badly they wanted it. If it was a choice to not have children; you were happy for that person. But to never have children, or to miscarry, when you desperately wanted to have your own little family was nearly unspeakable.  

So, you never spoke of it. You were slowly getting past it even if the memories remained. But they were further away now. Not so demanding and not so vivid any longer. Scars rather than wounds. You were thankful for that. I have more than I could ever have hoped for, you thought and a warm smile spread across your lips as Elisa crawled up on the couch and snuggled into your embrace with her new dragon plushie held tightly.

"Do you like her?" you asked, your daughter smiled. "You think it is a she?" she asked, "I mean, it is green." You gave her a smile as you stroked her hair. She already spoke so clearly. A fast learner it appeared. "It can't be a girl because it is green?" you asked, your daughter pondered the idea. "It has purple spikes," she stated, "and purple eyes," she continued. "Elisa, you decide if it is a he or a she. Listen to the dragon, what is it telling you?"

Your daughter stared at the plushie and seemed extremely focused. "It's not a he or a she," she stated firmly. "Oh, what is it then?" you asked with a smile, she looked at you with her face set in a determined expression. "It's a dragon." You smiled and laughed, good answer my little clever darling. "That sounds very good sweetheart, what is your dragon's name then?" "Dragon," she stated flatly as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole world that the genderless dragon's name was just Dragon. Yeah, how could one not immediately understand that? You nodded with a wide smile - and a damn good try to not laugh at how cute your daughter was - and she returned to hugging the plushie; obviously happy with her own logic.

The memories of the sorrow and heartache, the loss, faded away and you sat with your daughter in your arms and a wide smile covered your lips. Life is good, you thought for yourself and as if faith had little tolerance for your enjoyment all hell broke loose as the twins stole Jacobs toy. They screamed and fought for the toy. All six hands grabbed after it. Severus was quickly over at them and settled the situation though so you continued to cuddle your little daughter.

It didn't take long for Jacob to come over and Elisa swiftly moved over to her dad where she seemed even happier to be curled up. You took Jacob in your arms, quite happy he still wanted to cuddle despite being nine years old and always proclaimed he was 'a big boy now' when you tried to hug him or kiss him. So you enjoyed it. Loved the moment as he talked about all the things his robot toy could do, how his robot had saved the universe and always remembered mother's day. It was quite amusing as Jacob always seemed to forget about that particular day.

You kissed the top of his head and he ran off to his room to play with the toy, the twins followed - always wanting to be close to their big brother - and Elisa was quick not to be left behind. A calm quiet fell over the living room and Severus came over to you. You smiled and he lifted your legs before he sat down next to you and placed your legs over his.

"Happy?" he asked with a glance at the bracelet. You beamed at him. "Very, you? Enjoying your new book?" you asked with a little wicked smile and he chuckled. "I know you know, but I'll be damned if I ever admit it." You laughed loudly at his words and he kissed your temple. "My sweet Grinch," you whispered and stole a quick kiss from his smiling lips before he had leaned too far away again.

"Think they will play for a while?" he asked as his hands stroked your legs atop the blanket. "Half an hour maybe, why?" He smiled wickedly. One of those grins that made your body vibrate with want and lust. The heat from earlier ignited instantly. "Let's finish what we started," he murmured as his hand slithered in under the blanket. Your cheeks flushed and you both knew you were playing a dangerous game out in the open of the living room. You hid under the blanket and in an instant, all thoughts of Christmas, gifts and losses were torn away from you as Severus took over your mind, body and soul yet again with the soft sound of children laughing and Christmas carols in the background.

So, before I write anything else - I know it's Christmas and it's supposed to be light-hearted, jolly fics and stuff but I still feel like holding true to reality as Christmas his a hard time for many people for different reasons. This being only one of them. And I do want to shine some light on tough subjects through my writing - I try at least - but I am trying to keep it as light as possible during Christmas. Considering it's supposed to be a jolly time ^^

So, I hope you enjoyed this little longer fic. I have been trying to keep my writing a bit shorter for Snapemas as I won't otherwise be able to do as many prompts as possible - hopefully all of them. But I will do a few longer ones when I feel it's required or I have the time to do it ^^ After all, you guys are used to my fics being a bit lengthy xD

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Tags: @lizlil​ @snapefiction​ Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2020]

[gintokisimp]

If you don't have a Past, you can't have a Future. Chapter 1

Short GinTsu stories set 10 years after the final chapter. SPOILERS!

Genre: Fluff, Family

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 2,864

10 years had passed.

10 years since he thought he lost everything again.

10 years since Takasugi died in his arms.

10 years since another important part of his life had died.

Every time he thought he found happiness, it just slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

I didn't reach anything. I couldn't protect anyone

The long day had made his head dizzy and his thoughts were weighing heavy on him on his dark way home. Once those thoughts started, he couldn't stop them from overwhelming him and spiraling down into more depressing ones.

Coming home to the house, that his unrelated family left, still felt weird on those evenings. Kagura and Shinpachi were living their own lives now. They still worked together almost every day, but the kids left the nest and became adults. He couldn't chain them down to him eternally and it was also never what he intended to do.

Searching for the keys in his pockets, he heard the faint sounds of glasses clanking, cheering and laughter from the bar below. At least some things didn't change over the years, but was it really a good idea to keep living above a busy establishment? He couldn't just leave the memories he made here behind. The importance of those were undescribable and the future can only bring more. Sometimes the noises kept him up at night.

According to his circumstances, he became a very light sleeper in the last years, constantly in a worry that something might happen, always prepared to jump to action. Gladly, it was getting better again and he caught himself sleeping like a stone again more often, with no one disturbing him. That was a lie. Ah how much he wished it was true that no one would disturb his precious sleep. But he wasn't complaining either, the cause of the disturbances were way too precious to him.

He pushed the keys in, but the door opened without him unlocking it. Why wasn't it locked. It's already late and with the recent growth of the city, you never knew what could happen if someone noticed an unlocked home. Especially with that shitty police force, that was entrusted with the 'safety' of the citizens. Gintoki grumbled. He couldn't withstand the thought that some thug could break in and steal his most priced possessions. He slid it open fully and entered the house, locking the door safely behind him.

"Tadaima" he mumbled into the empty building, while shaking off his boots, placing them next to four different sets of shoes.

One pair of high black stilettos,

two pairs of zoris in the exact same size, only colored differently,

and one pair of black boots, similar to his own ones, but in a size that was way too small for Gintoki.

He slowly shuffled to the main room, whose Shoji door was closed, so the small entrance area was quite dark, only allowing a little bit of dim light shining through the thin paper door. It was later than he intended to come home and no one was waiting for him anyways. Before he could reach for the door, the sound of small footsteps startled him.

"haaah" A small figure leaped from the shadows of the small room and tackled him unexpectedly, making him stumble backwards, away from the door.

"oooofff" With no possibility to catch himself, he fell to the ground with an uncomfortable sound and the figure sat down on his legs, fidgeting happily at the successful assault.

The house wasn't so empty after all.

He would have come home to an empty building if it wasn't for her.

Two more shadows joined the figure, one jumped on his chest, while the other tugged on his white sleeve. Gintoki sighed angrily, but couldn't suppress a smile.

"Why are you still up? It's already long past your bedtime. Where is your mother?" He asked the shadows.

"She slept in waiting for you" The almost 9 year old boy on his legs replied.

"Mommy is sleeping, she couldn't stop us!" The 6 year old girl on his chest chirped.

"...sleeping!" The other 6 year old boy tugged on the fabric harshly.

Three.. why three? One was already enough. No wonder she was so tired after all. He cursed his own inability to hold back whenever he saw her walking around a little bit different than usual, she was just too damn beautiful. But how would he have know that they would offspring a pair of twins. How did I even end up in this, I of all people. The one who belongs to no one, the one who doesn't deserve anything. Who was foolish enough to be with me. I really don't deserve this after all that happened, after all those time he hurt her. Even though she was never hurt by his cowardliness.

And yet, the proof of their love was right in front of him.

Having a different family of his own, related by blood.

Love is weird. It hit him when he was at his lowest, time and time again. And after everything had finally come to an end, their time just started. I'm really an idiot for thinking so negative about that. He was blessed with the most adorable kids and a loving wife. He couldn't ask for more. He already had everything he ever wanted.

Lost in his thoughts, the kids stopped to jump on him.

"Papi, where are ya looking?" big bright amethyst eyes shined through silky silver bangs and stared directly into his.

Ah.. she's so beautiful, just like her mother. At least, she didnt inherit his permed hair. But he couldn't say the same about the two boys. Both of them had the same unruly hair, but only their oldest also inherited his eyes. He looked exactly like Gintoki did at that age and he was now in a phase, where he mirrored his parents behavior, requesting a pair of boots that looked like his fathers and proudly stomped around in them. Earlier that week, Shinpachi gave him one his white haori with the distinctive blue swirl patterns and he wore it like it was made out of gold.

He became a mirror of his father with every passing day, except that he inherited none of Gintokis bad features. Except his hair maybe. One day Gintoki would need to tell him, that he can't land a woman with that perm. He would reply that his father landed a woman with that hair, but that was a totally different story.

She always said it was unfair that all three of them looked like him. That wasn't true, they smiled exactly like she did and sometimes they imitated her way of speaking. His hand reached up to ruffle through her hair and she closed her eyes in comfort. Gintoki carefully stood up, keeping her in his arm.

"I wanna be carried too"

"Me too, me too!"

Gintoki felt the weight of the older boy pushing down on his back, while his younger son stretched out his arms in joyful expectation, smiling happily. Their smiles always hit a soft spot in his heart and saying no to these smiles was like saying no to a truckload of strawberry parfaits.

Pure Hell.

He picked up the smiling boy with his free arm, placing him on his hip and kissing his wavy hair. It was freshly washed and smelled like vanilla and strawberries. The scent had become his favorite after some scammy fortune teller on the street told him 10 years ago, that his future smelled like a mix of those treats. He never told anyone why he insisted on buying those specific scents and also no one asked. And even if, he wouldn't admit his reason.

"I want a kiss, I want a kiss"

"You're too old for that"

"Mommy says you're never too old for kisses. She gives you long kisses everywhere, I've seen it. And you're already ancient!" The boy on his back said innocently.

"Fine, you will get one when you're in bed." Gintoki shuddered thinking about the things he meant with 'long kisses everywhere' and decided he would need to start being more careful with what he did around them. They were getting older at a fast rate. It wasn't long until they moved out and he will end up in a wheelchair, crippled of old age.

Fully packed, with a child in each arm and one on his back, he made his way to the shoji door, quietly sliding it open with one of his feet.

Please don't wake up he thought. She would only accuse herself of being a bad mother if she knew that their kids werent in bed and he didnt want that to happen. She was a good mother, the best mother.

Tsukuyo was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket, her head slightly tilted, breathing calmly. She must have had an exhausting day at work, if she was able to sleep in a position like that. The room was lit by two candles on the table next to her. Gintoki stopped in his tracks. He was stunned to see her like this, smiling lightly in her sleep. Her beauty always knocked him out at the most unexpected moments.

"Hey why did you stop" His daughter whispered.

"Don't look at mommy like that, it's creepy." The boy in his arm continued her thoughts.

"Shhh, quiet" His cheeks flushed, caught staring at his wife by his own damn kids. He continued his way to the stairs and started to climb them, groaning under the extra weight on his back. The new part of their home was added right after the twins came. Gintoki refused to move out, saying he didn't want to give up the free of charge babysitter that was living downstairs. He couldn't admit that he just wanted to stay here close to her and continue protecting her. That old woman was more important in his life than he wanted to concede.

With the countless connections he had, he was able to get a good offer for the extension of the house, adding two stories in total, making it big enough for his growing family. That way, it was also possible to use the ground floor for office purposes only, but they still used it as a private space from time to time, away from the kids. The kids bedrooms were on the upper floor, so he had to climb another set of stairs, leaving him panting. They were getting too heavy to be carried and the hard work from the last days had already strained him enough.

"Papi, you're weak" The kid on his back snickered while Gintoki got down to let him jump from his back. The twins on his hips were already sleeping.

"Yes, maybe. Your mom is a lot stronger than I am" He replied, a little bit hurt.

The boy slid from his back, now standing in front of him, picking his nose.

"I told you numerous times already, stop doing that. If you continue this, you will pick your brain out" Gintoki scolded him.

"Is that why mom always says you're an utter idiot?" He replied.

Gintoki blinked, stunned

"She says that?.. to whom?" Was that really something new though?

"Everyone"

Gintoki pouted. "I'm not an idiot.." He mumbled.

"I know, she loves you"

The boys crimson eyes stared directly into his, lazily, while he continued to pick his nose, uninterested in the conversation. Gintoki felt like looking into a mirror. Dazed, he tried to process how intelligent that child could be sometimes. Kids are weird.

"Go to bed, I'm coming in a minute."

He stood up and carried the twins to their rooms. Looking at the justaway clock, he wasn't surprised they were sleeping in his arms. He sighed. I really need to stop coming home so late. It didn't happen that often, but he always felt guilty when if occurred. Carefully, he placed them in their beds and tugged them in, planting a kiss on their foreheads. The moon was shining through the window on the small silhouettes. Gintoki kneeled beside them, observed their hair shining silver in the faint light. How could someone like him spawn something to beautiful. But his own moons beauty was mainly involved in that as well, so it wasn't really a surprise.

"Good night" He whispered to them and left them room. The twins were sleeping in the same bed since they have been born. They refused to split up as they grew older. But the day will come sooner or later.

Gintoki sneaked into the older boys room. He hoped that he had already fallen asleep as well, but his eyes were shining at him, as he entered through the open door. He kneeled down next to him and patted his perm.

"Close your eyes or a ghost will steal them." Gintoki teased him.

"Ghosts don't exist" He simply replied.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not stupid"

Gintokis eyebrow twitched and he patted the boys head a little harder.

"Please treat mommy right, she always misses you when you come home late" The boy whispered.

"I will" Gintoki replied after a long pause.

He was about to stand up, but remembered his promise. Bending down, he placed a light kiss on the kids forehead and the boy closed his eyes, smiling Tsukuyos smile. Gintoki stood up and left the room and climbed down the stairs to the office.

She was still sleeping, peacefully, looking incredibly pretty while doing so. He sat down next to her, carefully sliding his arms around her. He planned to pick her up and carry her to bed as well. As soon as he touched her, she fidgeted and slightly opened her eyes.

"huh..? Gintoki -"

He hushed her with a kiss and she closed her eyes again, answering his kiss with a light smile. Gintoki deepened the kiss, nibbled on her lower lip until she let out a silent moan.

"I'm home" he whispered when they parted and smiled. Her tired eyes fell on the clock and she cursed herself.

"Ah shit I slept in, I waited for ya, I wanted t' show ya something." She said sleepily.

"It's fine, I'm sure you had a lot of work today. Did they behave in grannys care?" He asked while stroking her hair.

"I don't know, I wasn't really able t' ask about that. I had a lot of paperwork t'day and she was also busy when I came to pick them up.."

"You should really stop working that much, you don't even have time for yourself anymore. That's not healthy" Gintoki played with one of her loose strands of hair.

"And you're t' lazy, we couldn't even pay the rent if I would rely on ya working ambitions" She pulled the hair out of his hand.

"You don't need money to be happy" He looked her straight into her eyes, his fingers still moving as if the hair was still there.

"You need money to feed your kids." She retorted. True.

"You don't even need to work that much, you have enough money." He sighed.

"I don't do it for the money" Tsukuyo whispered.

".. I know" Lazily, he ran his hand across her back, resting his head on her shoulder. She hummed satisfied.

"What did you wanted to show me anyways?" He asked after a few minutes, sitting up straight.

"oh.. nothing special. I bought something." She replied sleepily, shifting the blanket, revealing a lacy nightgown and a set of new lingerie he hadn't seen before. Critical Hit.

They didn't really had the opportunities anymore for some sexy time alone, so sometimes he felt like a little cherry boy, when she flashed him in the most unexpected places. His head turned bright red and strained, he looked in another direction, avoiding to meet her seducing gaze.

"We.. uh.. we can do that on the weekend. How - how does that sound?" Gintoki stuttered and she lifted a hand to run it across his neck. She's tired, she needs to sleep and not some endless hours filled with pleasure given to her by the best lover in the whole town. But if she didn't stop now, he would end up making her another child.

"No, I want.. now.." She yawned again and closed her tired eyes, while she guided one of his hands to her chest. He still had his head turned away from her, but his eyes peeked at her. It took all his willpower to withdraw his hand from her chest and place it on her back.

"Let's get you to bed as well" He picked her up, carefully covering up the corrupting clothes with the blanket and carried her into their bedroom. When he placed her on the futon, she already snored lightly. Gintoki undressed himself and laid down next to her, pulling her into his arms. Her sweet scent clouded his mind and she hummed slightly. Not long after, he drifted into a deep sleep.

I think I reached a lot.

If you don't have a past, you can't have a future.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 46

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Wutai was burning when we returned. We could see the smoke a ways off. I rushed to help, flying with Limit Breaker. People were trapped under rubble, a collapsed house and I picked it up off them allowing them to escape despite the flames licking out at me.

With my aura I was amongst the safest.

Neo caught up to me but I was already moving. I'd seen enough burnt down villages for a life-time.

I found Godo in the middle of town, he was directing the firefighting crews about.

"What happened here?"

"Strife-San? We were attacked. Bandits in the woods. Ever since Branwen took over they've been getting bolder. They took my daughter."

"Why would they do that?" My hands itched. I was jumping out of my skin. That murderous something rose up in me. The Grimm we'd slaughtered on the way back had satisfied me none.

"Ransom. They believe they'll be able to hold her over me and receive our supplies. It's not the first time we have been attacked in such a way. Though I was stronger back then. I fear for my daughter's life."

"I'll help you. You just worry about putting out the fires. I'll see about getting you your daughter back."

I had a great deal of pent up rage that could only be quelled against human opponents. Things prone to suffering deserved my attention, not like the Grimm.

"I would be in your debt."

I dismissed him with a wave of my gloved hand and turned to the tracks in the earth. My preternatural ability to track Grimm wouldn't help here but the footprints were clear in the soft ground and I was faster than even your average hunter. I'd catch up to them.

I flew through the woods. One hand out and the other back holding Crocea Mors up in its broadest form. I hungered for violence. The little book about my construction in my pocket felt as heavy as the relic by my side. It felt as heavy as Crocea Mors, even.

I wanted to use both my sword and the relic. After this… after this I'd give it a try. I needed something to help me cope and I wasn't sure murder and drugs were going to do it for me. I really wanted to kill something, though, something that could feel pain. And I really wanted to get these bugs out of my eyes.

Maybe knowledge would be the key. It was one of the four most powerful relics on Remnant's face. I'd be a fool to not try something with it.

I glid inches above the forest floor. The bramble and uneven ground which might have tripped me up couldn't slow me. I leaned forward over the vines and flew faster. It was dusk, only getting darker. Someone who couldn't fly would be seriously slowed and hampered by the terrain. I low profiled the tree branches and flew right through them where they might delay me, my aura and I weren't to be halted by this.

There was a reason most horror stories took place in the woods and at the moment I felt like such a terror.

I must have flown kilometers, chasing them through the underbrush they trampled and I merely breezed past. I left Neo behind but she'd be able to catch up if she was decent at tracking. Teleporting would also help her match me.

I could make out a light in the woods ahead. A small light which burned beneath the great pine trees.

I hovered forward and transitioned to easy footsteps. "Found you…" I murmured. I wanted to murder. I wanted death. I wanted to kill.

The bandits had a building made from hewn logs to make walls. I could spot the light of their campfire inside and a few tents. They didn't have wide enough walls for battlements and had no sentries. Instead it sounded like a party inside.

Neo appeared beside me. She panted hard for a minute or two as I took stock of the situation.

"Like I said, go nuts." I told her. "Personally I'm taking no prisoners."

She laughed silently beside me.

I front-flipped over the logs and landed in the middle of their camp near the blazing fire.

I spotted Yuma tied up with rope by the fire. She was surrounded by celebrating bandits who slowly went for their weapons. Well slowly relative to the speed I was running at.

"Things may not work out for you," I whispered, holding the broadsword level. Blue light streamed off my body and I felt good in the elevated state.

Some of them wore armor imitating Grimm bone. If they wanted Grimm I'd show them Grimm. I was a can of that type of worm. I would show them the trouble that meant. The beast in my chest roared something angry and malevolent.

I attacked. One nearest me went for a sword at his belt. I slashed him. Biting deep into aura, I knocked him to the ground. I brought my sword down in a hacking motion once, twice, three times and I sliced through him at the neck and sent his head rolling.

I felt the violent spirit inside me only grow louder. It was hungry for bloodshed and I was going to give it to it.

Spears, axes, guns all pointed at me. Neo flickered into place beside me and bullets bounced off her bullet proof umbrella.

I rolled behind her taking cover from the storm of bullets that ensued. When there was a reprieve I flew out from behind her and slashed down at a girl nearby me wearing that Grimm white bone on her shoulders. She flinched back and raised her pistol. I swung upwards and clipped her arms. Another man came at me with a spear but I blocked it to the side.

I Cross Slashed him and he fell into four pieces. Even without Limit I was feeling good. I… I wasn't sure I wanted to stop at these bandits. Wutai was weak. I could kill everyone there and no one would be the wiser.

I came back to the girl with the pistol and slashed her across the ribs. Then brought my blade down at her shoulder. Her aura flared and shattered as I thrust the wide blade into her chest. I gave it a shaking motion, bringing the Titania up and she fell off with a shlick noise.

I swung horizontally at one with a rifle and he tried to block with his weapon but I cut right through it and knocked him to the ground. I kicked him in the chest where he fell with my right foot in a snapping tai-kick. Then I stepped forward and snapped out a round kick with my left. Then I brought the blade around lightning fast and cut him at the torso, just above the arm, and all the way through his rib cage.

Another still I punished with a devastating falling aerieal attack. I sliced at him and tore away a chunk of aura. Then I side-flipped and slashed with the motion cutting him again. He tried to stab down at me but I caught it easily on my massive blade. I lifted my weapon and the motion tossed him backwards and I was on him with the cuts until he fell forever. Horizontal. Vertical. Diagonal. Vertical.

Neo landed beside me and pulled at my sleeve. She got my attention. I glanced at her face to see something like fear on her expression. I'd never seen her look like that. I followed her gaze. I turned to look at a woman in a Grimm faced mask with a long red katana. She had a wild mane of black hair that went waist length.

"You have some nerve attacking me."

"I have no idea who you are."

She laughed beneath her mask. "I'm the Khan of Khans."

"Raven Branwen. I know your daughter," I confessed.

"I have no daughter."

I charged Limit for a beat and was rewarded with the trailing, glowing, blue wisps. I twirled my weapon about and placed it between us. She waved her Katana at me, it was nearly four feet long but it looked fragile in comparison to Crocea Mors.

"I would know your name, Warrior. You know mine."

"I'm Cloud Strife. Your reign of destruction and pillaging ends here."

"Doubtful. Many have tried and stood where you now stand."

"None of them were like me. I am danger's oldest son."

She blurred forward as though to get around me but I matched her speed and blocked her. She lowered her weapon slightly. Because of the mask, I couldn't identify what emotion she felt. She was fast, like Cinder or Tyrian fast.

But I'd kept pace with Cinder when last we met. Raven blurred to one side, trying to flank me again but I matched her once more and our weapons collided in a flash of blue and red. She stumbled back and took stock of her situation. I was faster than her with my semblance active. I might even be outright stronger than her too by a degree. Perhaps even without my semblance. My range was superior to her too and of course, one way to look at that was that she is slower than Ruby who I was able to match at times.

I raised my weapon parallel to my face. I thrust at her but she swept it to the side. She front-flipped at me but I caught both her and her downward swing with a horizontal roof block. I held one hand on the handle and the other against the back of the blade. I held up the force of her strike and her entire body weight easily. I pressed her back and she landed on her feet neatly.

I wasn't about to back down from this fight. I felt like I had a real shot at winning it.

The beast in my chest let out a low wary murmur. It was not satisfied. I wasn't satisfied. Both I and it wanted Raven to die, just for getting in my way. It shrieked for more blood to be spilled. A devouring volume that kept rising. A drum that beat in time with my heart.

Raven came at me and slashed her katana then when I shielded she reversed it and tried to stab at me. I deflected that too and quickly brought the weight of Crocea Mors down on her head. She stepped back out of my range hurriedly, desperately avoiding the massive strike. The power of it left the earth grooved. For five feet out in front of the tip of the blade. It would have splashed that energy across her body if it had come into contact with her.

She jumped somersaulting acrobatically towards me and I just flew straight at her. Our blades met twice in a crossing gesture while in mid-air but I had some force propelling me as I flew and with a low guiding hum of metal on metal I flung her back into one of the tents.

She landed ungracefully and rolled to the side as I brought Crocea Mors thrusting vertically down where she had laid fallen. She kicked at me and I stumbled back from the force of it.

She swept her blade at my legs but I hovered over it, grabbed her and pushed her all the way back to the wall where the bandits had hurried logs to make up their camp.

I tried to push her straight through it but I only managed to slam her into it. At this range neither of our swords could be brought to bear and it turned into a melee.

She elbowed me in the face and down across my eye as I went to knee her in the gut. She knocked my knee back down, catching it on her one open palm.

I grabbed her by the shoulder and stuck out one leg and tossed her back all the way across the clearing. She rolled to her feet. Bringing her katana up to handle what came at her next.

I slashed at her twice before I thrust forward and caught her by the belly. I pulled twenty feet straight up in the air and came slamming back down on her with a Climb-Hazard. She dodged out of the way of the second hit. And sliced me across the chest. She went for another cut about mid-height but I deflected it and with a shout I slung her away and into the wall of the camp once more.

I ran up to her and slashed horizontally in a move that brought the fifteen foot high wall of logs down on us. She flickered out of the way but I cut my path up through the falling tree trunks.

"You know I thought you'd have a whole entourage with you, following the queen of the bandits. Seems to me you're mostly alone. Why is that?"

She jumped at me and I Limit Break blade-beamed her. The tall beam caught her by the legs and dragged her into it. The move blended against her aura until it began to crackle, then it tossed her away.

No longer glowing blue I found myself still propelled on nothing more than my will. I was tractionless above the ground and I slid at her on a pocket of air until I slashed at her baseball style and it connected across her body and sent her rebounding off the ground.

"Vernal is dead. I didn't kill her but your little spring maiden is gone." I went on.

I stood still, just charging away at my next Limit Break. I'd get it eventually and once I did I'd be in a comfortable position to end her.

"You work for her, for Salem."

"Yes." I breathed. "And no. We have a complicated relationship. Family is like that, though. I'm sure you understand."

She moved fast enough to leave behind an after-image. She sliced at me and I blocked the first attack but the second caught me under the ribs. It buffeted me back but I quickly regained my balance. She came around for a third but I twisted my much wider blade around to catch it.

She front kicked at me and caught me in the center of the chest. I was once more knocked back but I wasn't losing any real ground. I laughed. She cut me four more times in the blink of an eye. Slashing back and forth with her long red katana. The pain felt amazing. There was a popping sound as the air expanded around me and my semblance returned.

Blue flames licked out and I caught her sword arm, picked her up and slammed her face first into the ground once. Twice. Three times. Then I delivered a boot to her head that sent her rolling. I swept after her on a pocket of air and gave her an upwards gold swing.. It was a strike upwards that caught her by the chest.

It launched her into the air and I chased after her. I slashed at her with my heavy weapon while she was airborn and helpless. I spent Limit on an eight cut move. I hit her with two diagonal cuts that rebounded off her aura. Then I hit her with four horizontal ones. Then I front-flipped and delivered two more massive vertical ones alternating each direction.

The final hit sent her rocketing to earth where she threw up dust and dirt. I landed gently nearby and began to pace over to where she was slowly struggling to rise.

She sheathed her blade, I watched the compartment cycle for a moment until she withdrew it and shot a current of electricity at me.  It came at me like a curtain and I watched the yellow blade she had drawn shatter as she spent the dust forged into it.

It hardly mattered since the bolt threw me off my feet into the encampment wall and left me singed. She slashed at the air and a red portal appeared. She stepped into it and was gone as the portal faded and collapsed.

I screamed. When I picked myself up I howled and stabbed some poor bandit soul who was still standing too close, perhaps waiting to finish me off. My aura was indeed on the lower side, but not so low that I'd be finished by scum like that.

I reached out with my sword and slashed at the man's purple aura until it gave way and I sliced through his body too.

Neo reappeared beside me and for a moment I wanted to kill her too. I breathed in and out, nice and easy.

"I'm fine," I said through grit teeth. "Just pissed off she escaped me. I fucking had her dead to rights with that Octa-Slash."

She gestured at the remaining bandits.

"Kill them. Torture them. Whatever pleases you." She nodded looking relieved and pleased. She vanished, flickering away.

I walked over to Yuma and sheathed my broadsword. I pulled the longsword free from my back and cut her loose. I pulled the gag that had been in her mouth out.

She reached out and embraced me and the monster in my heart that I'd discovered in Merlot's laboratory died down. I just held the young girl in my arms and shushed her.

She looked over at what Neo was doing and I pulled her head back.

"Look at me, sweetheart. Don't pay that any attention." There was screaming coming from behind us.

"You saved me."

"It was the right thing to do." I said it gruffly like I didn't want to believe it. Ruby… Pyrrha… neither would be proud of they'd seen what I'd become and before this young girl I felt a crawling sense of shame.

I was ashamed of letting the darkness in my heart rule me.

So what if I was a puppet? So what if I was born a monster? So what even if I had to kill people? Even if I have to torture people?

I didn't have to like it. I wasn't sure if that was enough of a difference to set me free. I wasn't even sure if it gave me a sense of hope. More than anything I still felt an inching dread. Maybe I was hopeless. Maybe I was doomed.

But there was a difference between doing what I must for the sake of doing what I had to and doing what I wanted to because I could.

I didn't have to be like Tyrian. I didn't have to be like Salem's agents. I could still choose what I wanted. And tonight I'd chosen death and torture over everything else. I'd wanted that. Me.

And I couldn't take it back.

And a thousand saved little girls didn't change that.

It didn't change the fact that if Wutai hadn't been burning when I arrived, I might have been the one to burn it down. If there hadn't been a drive, something for me to focus my rage on I'd have been the cold creature that stalks the night. Just a puppet all the same.

I pulled the relic from my side and pulled the top off of it.

Blue gas floated free of it as it drifted loose of my fingers. The fire stopped flickering and held in place. Yuma held her shuddering sobs still.

A woman formed of that mist. She stretched over her golden chains and yawned.

"Ah- tell me now. What knowledge do you seek? Three questions yet remain this century. So ask, and I shall answer."

"Mother...How do I stop her? She can control me. So how do I stop Salem?" I choked out.  

The floating woman gave me a small sad smile.

"Stop her? Or vanquish her?"

"There's a difference?"

"You tell me."

"Either."

"You cannot vanquish her. As long as this planet turns, she shall walk it's face," the blue woman spoke. She floated forward and cupped my face in her hands. I looked away and where I touched her, her fingers faded into that blue mist.

"She's immortal? She's unbeatable, then."

"Perhaps. Only her mind. Her body can be injured, however temporarily. She can be cut and she can be lanced."

"Then… then she can be stopped. Just… just…"

"Just not forever. She will never be just a memory."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[westallenfun]

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 1

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 1/7

Chapter One

For almost as long as she could remember, Iris Ann West had been in love with Eddie Thawne Allen. That it was utterly hopeless was a lesson she had learned at the tender age of eleven, but since she had lost her heart to him at age six, that knowledge hardly did any good. Eddie – or Eobard, named after a great-great-great-grandfather or some such; Iris could never remember, but it was far too stodgy of a name for him anyway – was the younger son of Henry and Nora Allen, her father’s wealthy employers. So of course he was leagues above her. But that didn’t matter; her love had never been dependent upon reciprocation. For most of her life, she had been content to worship him from afar.

She would never forget the moment he had first captured her heart. They had just moved into the Allens’ home – her dad having just started his new job as the head of their security team – when the gardener’s son, Christopher, had stolen her favorite toy. Four years older (and a good foot taller) than she was, Christopher had taunted her with his prize, dangling it over her head and pulling it out of her reach in an attempt to make her cry. Iris had been about to punch him in the nose for his trouble, since her father’s lessons on self-defense extended beyond his employers – when Eddie had appeared out of nowhere. He’d retrieved her toy from her tormenter, offered the other boy a stern word of warning, and handed it back to her with a kind smile.

It was in that moment that Iris’s heart had been lost. He had swooped in from out of nowhere to save the day, and it didn’t matter that her day didn’t actually need saving. He’d been her hero nevertheless. He had been like a knight in the fairy tales her mother had read her when she was younger; all tall and blonde and perfect.

Of course, since he was the younger son of the family and she was the daughter of a member of staff, Eddie and Iris seldom interacted. He often seemed oblivious to her very existence, in fact, but that did nothing to quell her devotion to him. She was content to watch from the sidelines as he charmed children and adults alike, always shining like the brightest star in every room he occupied. She marveled at his easy manners and infectious smile, and as she grew older, she imagined what it would be like to have that smile turned upon her.

On the other hand, his brother Bartholomew – three years older than Eddie and herself – couldn’t have been more different. Where Eddie was easy-going, Bartholomew was reserved. Where Eddie approached life with a laugh and consequences with a devil-may-care attitude, his brother approached each decision with careful deliberation. And where Eddie lit up every room he entered, Bartholomew tended to remain on the sidelines. Rarely penetrating her conscious awareness, at least when Eddie was around.

Iris didn’t have any reason to dislike the elder brother. In fact, he’d always been unfailingly polite to her. One day, shortly after they’d moved in, he’d caught Iris reading in the garden and had invited her to borrow from his family’s library in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. He had offered to teach her how to ride a horse – a proposal she’d quickly declined because horses had frightened her at that age. When she was ill, he brought by soup prepared by their chef, and she always found gifts he had chosen for her and her father under the tree at Christmas.

But all of that was to be expected, she supposed. Bartholomew (who had asked her to call him Barry years and years ago, but that seemed entirely too informal for him) was Henry and Nora’s oldest child. He would take over the family businesses in due course. He was only doing what someone in his situation would be expected to do. And so it was that Iris was content to fan the flames of her one-sided infatuation of Eddie while maintaining a polite if distance cordiality with Bartholomew. Until one fateful day when she was sixteen.

She had been walking through the woods when she somehow stepped badly, tripped over a root, and rolled her ankle on the way down. Unable to bite back her sharp cry of distress, Iris had fought back tears as she cradled the injured area, in too much pain to put weight on it so that she could return home.

Then, out of the woods, like an angel come down from Heaven, he had appeared to act as her hero once more, Bartholomew at his side. They had been strolling nearby when they’d heard her cry out and had rushed to her aid. Eddie hadn’t even hesitated before he kneeling next to her, asking if she was okay, while his brother had stood back a bit, watching her in concern. He had said nothing as Eddie verified that her ankle indeed seemed sprained, but Iris didn’t really care. Eddie was there, mere inches away, cradling her ankle in his lap and staring at her with those blue, blue eyes. Bartholomew could have been on the moon for all she’d noticed him.

Pain or no pain, she could have stayed like that all day, except that Eddie had jumped to his feet and offered to fetch her father to come help. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” she’d protested, aching at the all-too-brief encounter.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew had begun in his typical, reasonable tone, “We could probably—”

But Eddie wasn’t listening. “I’ll be right back!” he’d promised before turning and darting back towards home, and Iris had let out a frustrated sigh. Bartholomew had followed suit, his attention darting from Iris to his brother’s back before looking at Iris again.

She hadn’t known what he was thinking; but, then, she’s rarely thought about Bartholomew at all and had in fact almost forgotten his presence until he’d spoken again. “It may be a while for him to find your dad, and you can’t just sit out here indefinitely. Do you think you could walk a little if I helped support your weight?”

It had been (naturally, given the speaker) a perfectly reasonable solution, but Iris was unjustly irritable at him for having made it. She’d been hoping Eddie would return to sweep her into his arms and carry her back home himself. Sure, it seemed unlikely he would do so, and she certainly hadn’t twisted her ankle with any such plan in mind. But she’d thought it would have been nice. Indeed, it would have been the perfect opportunity for her to get closer to Eddie (if he’d only return without her dad in tow), and now his brother was ruining it.

She’d let out a small huff of frustration. “I guess,” she’d grumbled rather churlishly. Bartholomew had blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by her mood, but he’d moved to crouch at her side nonetheless. Moving slowly, with almost uncharacteristic uncertainty, he had wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as she lumbered to her feet. When she let out a soft hiss of pain at putting weight on her injured ankle, he had shifted his hold on her so that he was carrying a greater amount of her weight on that side.

Setting her chin in a determined angle, Iris had hobbled forward several steps, feeling a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts as she wished it was Eddie by her side. Even still, she couldn’t help but be annoyed that it was Bartholomew instead. Why hadn’t he gone for help and left his brother behind? Then things would have been perfect. Her pain would have been worth it.

She’d let out a heavy sigh of frustration, and she felt Bartholomew shift his hold on her again. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?”

“No, I just – ow!” she’d cried out, so distracted by thoughts of how wonderful it would be if she was spending this time with Eddie that she stepped wrong and caused a sharp stab of pain to radiate from her ankle.

He’d pulled her to a halt, holding her steady while she caught her breath and waited for the swell of pain to subside. Finally, when she was able to straighten slightly again, he’d offered tentatively, “You know…I’m really scared we’re going to make your ankle worse if we keep this up. I-if you want, I could, um, I could…carry you?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous!” she’d cried automatically, even as her mind had conjured images of Eddie lifting her into his strong arms to carry her home. Her head would have rested perfectly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Even when they returned home, he wouldn’t have put her on her feet right away, as reluctant to release her as she would be set free. He’d stare into her eyes and, in that moment, he would realize what had been in front of him all along. He’d open his mouth to finally say the words she’d been longing to hear for so long. “Iris, I—”

“Well, I think it’s going to start raining soon, and that might make everything worse,” Bartholomew had pointed out pragmatically, throwing a bucket of cold water all over her fantasy.

She’d huffed and looked around, praying she would see Eddie rushing back to her. Regrettably, he’d been nowhere in sight. She’d glowered up at the grey clouds above, her irritation growing when she realized it did indeed look like rain. Frustrated at her thwarted fantasies, she’d dropped her gaze to Bartholomew’s and snapped, “Why did you have to be you? Why couldn’t you have gone to get my dad and left Eddie behind?”

She’d felt badly about her words the moment they’d left her mouth, as Bartholomew’s head had jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She’d braced herself for him to snap at her, but he hadn’t, which somehow had made her feel worse. Instead, he’d cleared his throat and asked, “I understand if you don’t want me to – well, if you’d rather take a break and rest for a minute. I’m sure Eddie will be back soon. We can find a place for you to sit so you’re not putting weight on your ankle.”

Feeling wretched and ashamed, Iris had dropped her gaze to the ground as she mumbled, “No. I-I want to go home now. Please.”

He’d nodded, one swift, decisive, jerk of his head. Bending to loop his arm behind her knees, he’d said, “Okay. You ready? Go ahead and put your arm around my neck, and make sure you keep your weight on me. I’m going to pick you up in three…two…one.”

She’d never really thought about Bartholomew’s physical strength – other than to think it came second to Eddie’s, as all things did. So she’d been somewhat surprised to find how easily he lifted her and carried her back toward the house, his long legs eating up the distance with surprising speed. He hadn’t even sound winded as he stepped onto the gravel pathway leading to the side door that was closest to the rooms she shared with her dad. Whether she’d have been able to hear his heartbeat if she rested her head against his chest, she didn’t know, since she’d flatly refused to put her head there.

They’d remained silent the entire way back to her door, but when he’d put her gently back onto her feet, the good manners her parents had drilled into her head overcame her embarrassment. Her gaze fixed somewhere around his feet, she’d mumbled, “Thank you for helping me get home, and I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I appreciate your help. Really.”

“It’s okay,” he’d told her sheepishly. “I understand. You love Eddie.” Mortified, she’d shot a look at his face, and he’d lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m not judging! Lots of people love my brother. He’s always been lucky like that. It’s just, I thought for once—” His voice had trailed off, and she watched as his cheeks turned red.

Though she’d suspected she should leave it alone, she hadn’t been able to help herself. “What?”

Bartholomew had sighed, his shoulders lifting and falling in an awkward shrug. “I thought you saw me.” Scowling, he’d looked away from her before mumbling, “Anyway, you should take it easy on that ankle. I’ll have my dad stop by and check on you when he gets a chance.”

“Thanks,” she’d said, but he’d merely nodded at her and walked away, shoving his hands into  his pockets, his head bowed.

She hadn’t realized it at the time (and wouldn’t have cared even if she had), but that would be the last time that she and Bartholomew would be alone or speak honestly with each other for several years. She’d never have cause fault him for his manners; he remained unfailingly polite and even thoughtful in his choice of gifts for her and her dad on birthdays and holidays. But from that moment in the woods, the distance between them only continued to grow.

By the time Iris left for college, she and Bartholomew were all but strangers, and Eddie had still never seemed to really register her existence. Perhaps the latter was a blessing, because it might have made it easier for her to go. She couldn’t believe her luck when was admitted to her top-choice school overseas and was even more astonished when she received a scholarship to attend from an anonymous benefactor.

Her first few months at the school were bittersweet; she missed her dad, he friends, and of course Eddie. But over time, her fixation on Eddie lessened, even if her devotion did not. She made new friends, explored new interests, and even went on dates with other men. And every so often, she’d read the society pages back home to see what the Allen family were up to in her absence. It seemed like every week, Eddie had a new woman on his arm – a fact which initially brought her pain but which she eventually was able to accept with an indulgent laugh.

And then the unthinkable happened. Almost a year after she left, Henry Allen died unexpectedly, and Iris managed to get a few days off school to return home for the funeral. Her first encounter with Eddie upon her return caused her heart to race no less than it had before, but she noticed with some degree of surprise that it was Bartholomew she couldn’t stop watching at the funeral.

Later, she would console herself with the thought that her attention had likely not been entirely consumed by Eddie because his open display of grief had garnered the attention of many – including several pretty ladies – who seemed eager to congregate around him to offer their sympathy and support. Bartholomew, on the other hand, remained somewhat apart, staying silent until approached directly. While most attendees to the funeral watched Eddie, Bartholomew watched his mother, offering her a glass of water or his arm for support whenever her strength seemed to flag.

Once – just once – as the coffin was being slowly lowered into its eternal resting place, Bartholomew looked up and met her eyes. His features were frozen, but she saw his eyes were red, filled with tears that he refused to shed, and her heart broke for him. It was then that she remembered his words from the last time they had really spoken. “I thought you saw me.”

He looked away quickly, and Iris tried to turn her attention back to Eddie. But when the service had concluded and they returned to the Allen home for the repast, Iris found herself preoccupied with thoughts of how Bartholomew was faring. She wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t get a chance since she only saw him briefly, as he was busy seeing to his guests’ comfort and making sure they had enough refreshments to go around.

It seemed strange, that he would spend such an event worrying about other people. So it felt perfectly natural that she should want to check on him, to offer him her condolences for his loss. With that in mind, she’d sought him out, eventually finding him in his father’s study, hands clasped behind his back as he stared gravely out the window.

Inexplicably shy in his company – though she’d never been so before – Iris approached without a word, taking a position at his side. If he needed her, she would be there for him, but if he would rather his peace be undisturbed, she wouldn’t pressure him. After a moment, she saw him turn toward her and took this as an invitation to speak. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that so sorry about your dad,” she murmured softly, the words sounding inane in her own ears.

He paused, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily before he could speak, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you could come. It would have meant a lot to him. He – he thought very highly of you, you know.”

“The feeling was mutual,” she said with a wistful smile. In her position as daughter of an employee, she couldn’t claim that she’d ever been terribly close with either Henry or Nora Allen. Or with their children, come to that. But the elder Allens always been kind to her, taking an interest in her when she was in their presence and remembering her when she wasn’t. She tried for something profound – or at least comforting – but her brain resorted to inanity once more as she offered a lame, “He’ll be missed.”

Bartholomew nodded, turning his attention back to the window, and Iris almost took that as her cue to leave except that he spoke again. “Your dad has been very proud of you this year. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that he takes every opportunity to tell everyone who’ll listen how well you’re doing.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all, and a brief silence fell between them once more. Eventually, he broke it by asking, “Do you like it? School, I mean.”

Iris recognized he was probably looking for anything to talk about that would take his mind off his own grief, and so she lingered, turning to look out the window as well. “For the most part. I can’t say I love all the classes, and it was hard at first, being so far from home. But I’ve made some friends, and I just got a part-time job that’s flexible with school and will tide me over between semesters.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Oh, I thought you might come home over breaks.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I thought about it. But I decided I wanted to get a job and help out, and my dad said he’d come visit me whenever he can.”

Bartholomew let out a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Well, if there’s ever anything else you need, all you need to do is ask.” She didn’t immediately catch that strange word, else, and wouldn’t until she was on the plane back home, too late to ask him what it meant. Instead, when she started to thank him, he waved it away, visibly uncomfortable by her gratitude. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re enjoying school,” he said, glancing down at her once more. “You should do something that makes you happy.”

She started to reply, but unfortunately (though she wouldn’t register the misfortune of it for some time), it was just then that Iris heard a loud sob behind her and looked over her shoulder to see that Eddie in the hallway, surrounded by his usual phalanx of admirers. She hesitated, inwardly debating stepping out to check on him but not wanting to abandon the man by her side. Her indecision became moot, however, as by the time she turned back to her companion, Bartholomew had walked away. She looked around just in time to see him step through an adjoining door, and though she cried out after him, he seemed not to have heard her as the door swung closed behind him.

It occurred to her on her long flight back to school that she was always a victim of timing when it came to Bartholomew. But what did that matter? Her heart did – and always would – belong to Eddie. There weren’t many things she was certain of in the world, but she was certain of that.

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - the secret it out

I'm not dead! I had a mental breakdown, but I'm not dead! I am not abandoning this story, I promise. Didn't you guys see the part of my A/N where I said that I would never abandon this story, just take a tiny hiatus. And I'm proving that now by uploading this.

Anyway, this chapter is pretty long, so I hope this makes up for not uploading for months. I'm in the middle of doing a bio final, which is my second to last one! I'm so excited to be done with this school year. I've literally been calling my school Hell.

Also, I'm adding disclaimers to each chapter cuz I forgot to do that, so yeah act like you're smart enough to know that I don't own Marvel or PJO. Please stay safe and happy pride month🏳️‍🌈!

- your author

PS if you didn't know, I'm pan so...not just an ally or something.

Ω ♆ Ω

The demigods were silent the entire trip back. The group hadn't wanted to explain why the Avengers were there, so they'd left before the authorities had shown up. The quinjet had survived the storm with the ability to still fly, so they took that back to the tower. Despite the multitude of people with ADHD on the plane, nobody had spoken a word. However, the Seven seemed to be silently communicating to Percy their confusion and anger. As far as they knew, they did not have permission to tell the truth of the gods yet! They trusted Percy, but he had been through a lot recently, and maybe his judgement was a little off.

But they couldn't risk slipping anything to the Avengers, so they settled for just glaring at the son of Poseidon. The boy in question, however, just sat there staring at his lap, where he was playing with Riptide.

He was trying to figure out the best way to break it to the Avengers that their entire world was basically a lie. It was a lot to take in. He could attest to that. He was half-convinced that he was hallucinating when he first got the explanation.

Tony was finding the silence particularly difficult to withstand. First, Percy tells them that he's finally going to tell them the full truth, and then he just walks away and gets on the quinjet without following up on that comment! Anticlimactic much?

"Alright, that's it! Somebody say something!" he yelled. "I can't take this anymore!"

Percy responded without looking up, "Wait until we're at the tower. Then, I'll tell you everything. It's time you guys know." He whispered the next part under his breath, "You're going to need it where we're going."

Unfortunately for Steve, he could still hear that last comment. "That's reassuring," he said.

"Sorry," Percy muttered.

He didn't have time to worry about the Avengers' feelings. He had already figured out how he would tell them the truth. The best way was to be completely open and make sure there weren't any chances for fighting to break out.

Right now, he was worrying about Annabeth. Every second they wasted was one more second the monsters had to hurt her. It was taking everything within him to not make Piper's water bottle explode.

Ω ♆ Ω

Percy was the first one out of the jet when they landed on Avengers Tower. He ran all the way to his room, where he grabbed as many godly artifacts that he could find. He had a feeling that the mortals would want some proof before they started believing anything. He grabbed a couple of drachmas, some ambrosia and nectar, a picture of Coach Hedge, Mellie, and little Chuck, and his trident (yes, he has a trident now). The trident folded into itself until it was the size of a water bottle. If he wanted to use it, he had to say it's name, ακουαρέλα (waterbringer). The greek lettering of its name on the side glows, and it shoots open. It was a gift from his father as an early eighteenth birthday present.

Godly parents are weird that way; giving their kids weapons as presents. But spend enough time in this world and you get used to it.

He rushed back to the living room, where JARVIS had told him everyone was gathered (a tiny voice in his head reminded him that it wasn't everyone. Not yet). They seemed to have resorted back into their first day together: opposite sides of the coffee table, mistrustful glances sent across, and a general awkward aura surrounding the place. If Percy wasn't in such a rush to save Annabeth, he would've laughed at the sight.

Tony was the first to notice him, "Oh, you're here finally! Great! Now can you tell us what the hell is going on?"

Again, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over Percy, but he ignored it.

"Yes. It's important you know the truth before we leave," Percy answered.

He turned to his friends and spoke again. "And before you try protesting, my dad gave me permission."

Jason's open mouth snapped shut.

He dumped his artifacts on the table, motioning for his friends to do the same with anything they had on them. It wasn't a lot; just a couple of drachmas and their weapons. Leo did take off his entire toolbelt, though.

"What's this stuff? Is this supposed to answer all our questions?" Natasha said.

"No, this is just proof. I'll be explaining it all to you." He paused, unsure of how to start.

"Oh for the gods' sake, Percy, just start with the simplest answer!" Piper exclaimed, jumping up, "We're demigods, sons and daughters of the gods."

A beat of silence passed.

Steve broke it, "I didn't know Thor had any children..."

Jason groaned, "How did I know you would say that? Honestly, open your minds a little bit. We're Greek and Roman demigods. Thor isn't even a real god! He's just an alien with superpowers!"

Percy stared, amused, at his cousin. Clearly the son of the lightning god was not happy with Thor running around and calling himself a god (especially when Magnus was proof that he wasn't).

Piper patted him on the back sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, are you saying that there are more gods?" Tony asked, eyes wide in shock.

"Yes," Percy answered simply.

"Oh. Ok. That's fine, I guess. Nothing unbelievable about that," Tony commented sarcastically.

Percy sighed, preparing himself, "I am the son of Poseidon. Annabeth is the daughter of Athena. Piper is the daughter of Aphrodite, and Jason is the son of Jupiter. Hazel is the daughter of Pluto, and Frank is the son of Mars. And Leo is the son of Hephaestus. We aren't lying. We wish we were, but we're not. This is the truth."

Clint said, "I want to see this proof you were talking about."

Percy nodded, reaching down and grabbing a drachma.

"This is a drachma. How do you think we have so many of these? They are the godly currency," he said, tossing the coin over to Clint.

"Okay, I'll admit that it's odd for you to own so many of those things, but I need some proof of magic," Tony said.

Percy gritted his teeth, wondering if it was possible to kill Tony with Riptide. The man had already seen Percy turn a pen into a sword, but of course he had to see something else. There was no way to convince him that magic was real, he would just try and find some scientific answer to anything he showed him. It was an impossible task.

"Fine," he ground out.

Percy grabbed the folded version of his trident and made a show of moving it around so Tony could see that there were no tricks. Then he said the "magic words" and it popped open into a trident. It was still a little odd for Percy to hold it. He wasn't used to the weighting of it yet. Of course, he knew how to use it, but it still seemed weird. It didn't help that the weapon only gave Leo more reason to call him Aquaman, too.

"Is this enough proof for you?" Percy asked.

Tony learned forward in interest, "What did you do to get it to fold into that tight of a space? It must be the same tech as the pen, but I'm still not sure how it gets activated by those words..."

"It's magic, Mr. Stark," Hazel informed him.

"No such thing," Tony muttered offhandedly.

Hazel rolled her eyes, giving up. He would be proven very wrong soon enough. You can't spend much time in their world without starting to believe it.

"So that's how you guys have all your abilities? You are half god?" Bruce asked.

He was always more open to the scientifically-unproven than Tony. He was living proof of what could happen. Some might say the Hulk is magic.

"Yes. We are constantly hunted by monsters who can smell the scent we put off. They wanted to take revenge on Olympus, but it just grew to enjoyment from there. There aren't many safe havens in this world for us. That's why we don't tend to live that long. I am the oldest living Greek demigod alive," Percy said, acting like it was everyday you basically stated that you should be dead.

"That's awful! Why don't your parents do anything about it?!" Steve exclaimed.

"They are forbidden. Plus, godly parents suck. Most don't give a crap about their kids," Piper answered. "We're just the result of their mistakes."

"Well, they should. It's not right to leave kids to die," Bruce said.

Thunder rumbled in the distance; a warning from Drama King himself.

Percy glared up at the sky, "Oh, don't act like they're lying! You know it's wrong! At least have the guts to admit it, Uncle Z!"

The Avengers paled at the thought that the gods were watching them. It was a truly terrifying thought, to learn that you aren't in control of your fate. And the fact that Percy was yelling and accusing the king of the gods was not helping one bit.

The Seven had gotten slightly more used to Percy's reckless ways, but it was still worrying whenever he decided to rebel and yell at the most powerful beings in the universe when they were in the same room.

There wasn't an answer to Percy's rant, but there was a significantly less amount of sulfur in the air, so they took it as a sign that Zeus was letting it slide.

"But why are you telling us this now?" Natasha asked, always the observant spy.

She had remained silent thus far because she wanted to learn more about these mysterious "gods" before she acted. By how serious Valdez was acting, though, she was leaning towards it being the truth (or, at least, what the kids thought was the truth). She would have to report this to Fury as soon as possible.

Percy turned towards her, "Because my dad told me where Annabeth is being held. It's a dangerous place, and you need to be prepared if you're going to come with us. I won't force you to come, though. I would understand if you said no after you hear what it's like."

The Sea of Monsters was not a place for the weak. It would take a lot of willpower to get them all through. He had to make sure that the mortals were completely sure they wanted to come before they took off.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked.

"The Sea of Monsters," Percy answered in a grave voice.

"That's a reassuring name," Tony commented, "This'll be a blast."

"You do not need to come, Tony! None of you should want to after you hear what it's like," Percy said.

Tony stood up in anger, "You know what, kid? I don't need you yelling at me! I am a hero, and just because you tell us you are part god doesn't give you the right to act all high-and-mighty! We can handle it! We're the Avengers!"

Percy glared at the billionaire, "Trust me, you can't. I am trying to get across how dangerous this quest will be. The last time I was there, I almost died many times. It is NOT a good place to be."

"Where is that, exactly? Where are we going?" Clint asked.

The only son of Poseidon sighed, "The Bermuda Triangle."

Tony seemed to be shocked out of his angry mindset, "Wait, that myth's real?"

Leo spoke up, "Let's just assume that all things are real. It's easier that way."

"Is there anything else we should know before we get ready?" Steve asked, deciding that it was best to just cut off that conversation at the head.

"Just one more thing. We can fill in the rest on the way," Percy said, "You need to know that the gang we are fighting is not a normal bad guy. They are mortals Hades-bent on exposing the gods to the rest of the world. Somehow, they partnered with monsters. Annabeth theorized that it was because it would be easier to find demigods if the mortals were already searching for them. Basically, the monsters are using the gang for their own agenda and have the mortals convinced that they are their partners."

"Bad guys double-crossing each other. That, I can understand," Steve said with a relieved smile.

Ω ♆ Ω

The team had dispersed to go get ready, which meant packing a couple things and suiting up for the demigods. Well, they didn't know they had anything to suit-up in, but they were about to.

"Oh, guys! I have some good news!" Piper exclaimed. "The Aphrodite cabin finished our suits!"

Leo's head snapped up. "How do they look? Were my designs okay?"

Piper nodded, "Yep. And we don't even have to wear masks or anything because the Mist will distort our faces for any cameras. The Hecate cabin assured me."

Now Leo was bouncing up and down in excitement. "Can we see them? Can we? I wanna see them!"

Hazel raised an eyebrow at her friend, still never completely used to his antics. Leo Valdez was one of a kind, that's for sure (even if he was physically identical to her old boyfriend).

"Of course. We need to use them for the quest, don't we?" Piper smiled.

"Yay!" Leo exclaimed.

Piper let out a laugh, "Follow me, guys. They're in my room."

Sure enough, when they walked into Piper's room, there was a clothes rack with seven suits on it. Even from a distance, they looked amazing.

When Percy went and picked his suit up, he was in shock. It had a celestial bronze chest and shoulder plate, while the rest was a wetsuit-like material. The shoes were connected to the suit, and they seemed to be designed after water shoes. There were fingerless gloves with it, too. The gloves had air pockets, but Percy wasn't exactly sure what for.

"The gloves create water for you to use at any time." Leo answered his silent question.

"Oh. Awesome!" he said.

Percy didn't really get it, but science and magic weren't really his expertise. As long as they worked, he was okay with not knowing how.

All of the boys' suits seemed to be designed the same, minus the water-gloves. The only difference was the color of the pants. Percy's were sea green (not unlike his eyes), Jason's was electric blue, Frank's was blood red, and Leo's was bright orange.

"These are amazing!" Jason told Piper and Leo.

Piper thanked him and Leo just did an invisible hair flip in response.

The girls' suits were similar to the boys', but also completely different. There was a celestial bronze breastplate and celestial bronze plating going all the way down their sides and to their ankles. There are grey knee and elbow pads, as well. They also had fingerless gloves, but they did not go up to their wrists like the boys' suits did. Half of the glove is their suit's main color, as well as some of their arm and leg material. Piper's coloring was pink, Hazel's was purple, and Annabeth's was red. Every suit had a black Avengers symbol on their shoulders, which must have been a last-minute add-on because for a while the Seven were adamant on not becoming part of the Avengers (they still were, but it was hard to fight it when they were literally about to go into battle together).

Looking at Annabeth's suit made Percy miss her even more, but he didn't let it show. He had to be strong for his friends and teammates. He was the only one who had been through the Sea of Monsters before, so he had to guide them through.

It was going to be a tough task, that's for sure.

Ω ♆ Ω

The Seven separated to change, and once that was done, they met in the corridor of their rooms. Jason had to admit, they looked BADASS. It was clear that they were all a team, but every suit had its own individuality.

"We look awesome!" Leo exclaimed, jumping up and high-fiving Piper.

Percy strapped his sword to the clip on his waist next to his trident. "Yeah. You really did a great job, guys. Thanks. But we have to focus now. We're the only ones that are even partially prepared for what we're about to walk into, so we need to be at 100%. The Avengers may think they know what's coming, but they are clueless."

The Seven steeled their expressions, their teammate's seriousness washing over them like a wave. This was an important mission, not just for them, but for the Avengers, too. They may be rescuing their friend, but they were also stopping terrorists. This was big.

"Your confidence in us is truly heartwarming, Hercules." Tony's voice popped their bubble.

The Seven turned to see that the Avengers were all standing in the hall, suited up and ready (minus Bruce, of course).

"Hercules?" Percy asked, dawning a disgusted expression.

Tony stepped up. "Yeah. You said your greek demigods, and he's the first one that popped up. Plus, you got that whole hero-complex thing going."

Percy scowled, "Hercules is a dick."

"Agreed," Piper said, mirroring his expression.

"I really want to ask, but we've gotta get going," Bruce said, "We need to get there fast."

"Yeah. Where exactly are we going, again?" Tony asked.

"First, Florida. Then, The Bermuda Triangle." Percy answered.

"Why can't we just fly straight to the place?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

Percy sighed and then ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Because we'd just die faster. The only way to even have a chance of making it in and out is to go in by boat. Flying to Florida is the quickest way to get as close as possible. From there, we'll go by boat."

Natasha nodded, accepting the answer. However, she was still nervous about all of the "gods" stuff. Sure, they had met Thor, but he was just a glorified alien. What she had seen in Las Vegas was not like Thor and Loki. That was...a lot.

The group remained silent, unsure of what to say or do next, for another minute. Then, finally, Leo broke the silence. "What are we waiting for?! Let's get going, gang! We've got a world to save! I'm not getting any younger!"

He gave them his signature maniacal grin before leading the way down the hallway. Serious pep talks weren't his thing. He much preferred the sarcastic, self-deprecating kind to anything else.

They went up to the roof, where a repaired quinjet was waiting for them. Percy and Hazel still looked a little queasy about the flying, but chose not to voice it and instead clutched onto their seatbelts for dear life.

Once everyone was situated, Natasha called from the cockpit, "Seatbelts on, kids! We're taking off."

Clint grinned, "Death and doom, here we come."

Ω ♆ Ω

Remember to comment, like, reblog, and follow me! If you wanted to see what the Seven's suits looked like, I posted that on my Tumblr, which can be found on my profile page. Happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈!

- your author

other chapters :)

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me- Chapter 85

Warnings:  profanity, violence, mentions of blood, mild torture, very minor references to rape 

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip​

He briefly loses consciousness,  succumbing to shock and blood loss. When he comes to he’s disoriented. Head swimming and vision blurred; vaguely aware of combined smells of sweat,  urine,  and pure filth. A lone voice to his right;  volume muted and its words garbled, making him feel as if he’s attempting to listen and decipher while being submerged underwater. He feels groggy and weak; head swaying back and forth and from side to side, eyes repeatedly blinking in an attempt to acknowledge and recognize his surroundings. At first he thinks he’s back on the Sultana Kamal Bridge, leaning back against the side of an abandoned and bullet ridden sedan. Right leg rendered useless and the strong metallic taste of blood in his mouth; crimson rivers escaping his lips and trickling down his chin. Chest feeling as if it’s on fire; sheer agony created by a sniper’s bullet that ripped through his back and plunged into his chest. The tightness in his left lung; the distinct rattling and wheezing noise he makes every time he attempts to draw a breath.

It’s seven years ago and he’s back on that bridge. Exhausted and in pain; feeling all semblance of strength and hope...of LIFE...seeping out of him. But there’s no visions this time; no delirious moment where he sees the blurry yet unmistakable image of his dead son. He can hear   laughter though. Faint yet musical; a beautiful sound that somehow cuts through the grogginess and the thick fog of pain and manages to bring a weak smile to his face. And their voices; happy and excited as they call to him. His oldest daughter and his twin boys; giggling as they encourage him to follow them. To run and play and throw them over his head; that blind faith and trust that he’ll always be there to catch them.

Another voice now. Older and deeper. And he tightly squeezes his eyes shut and tries to identify it. Rich in tone and possessing a slow, Southern drawl; a discernible twang that evokes the smell of leather and cheap whisky. A chuckle accompanies it; one that’s both menacing and amused. It’s followed by the shuffle of boots along dirty and cracked cement; a sound that grows as it slowly approaches him.  He opens his eyes when senses their presence; a hazy figure briefly standing at his side before  crouching  down to his level. And as the grogginess begins to lift and his consciousness begins to return, he expects to see fourteen year old Ovi next to him; clad in a dirty t-shirt that is monstrous on his tall, slender frame and jeans a few sizes too big. The words are on the tip of his tongue -“You see that helicopter? I need you to run as fast as you can for it”- but they never leave his lips; forming in his brain yet no sound emerging. But it isn’t a kind, comforting hand that reaches for his now. It's one that is rough and callused and violently yanks his head up by his hair.

“Wake up!” Nathan snarls, and tosses a cup of dirty water in his face. “I’m nowhere near through with you.”

The pain is intense. Beginning at the small of his back and travelling the entire length of spine. Some of the feeling has returned to his legs; extremely limited mobility, but he’s able to move his feet ever so slightly and weakly wiggle his toes. He can smell the blood; sharp and metallic. It soaks his left shoulder and stretches from one hip to the other;  aware that it drips down his arm and off his fingers and trickles down his legs. And as he becomes more lucid, the reality of the situation and his environment returns. Able to recall the moments before he passed out. The phone call from his wife and the concern and panic in her voice as she told him about the letter -the REAL letter- from the Marine Corps; her pleading for him to just walk away and let them handle the situation. It was too late by then. By the time hung up, Nathan was already on the move; free of the restraints around his wrists, a revolver in his hand. And something wicked in his eyes and something even more sinister that dripped from his words; a smirk tugging at his lips as he wasted no time in pulling the trigger.

Tyler struggles against the hand firmly gripping his hair; thrashing his head from side to side, his  legs feebly attempting to push himself away from the dirty surface his stomach is pressed against. It’s futile; he can barely feel anything from the waist down and his arms are out of commission; tightly restrained behind back, the plastic of the zip ties cutting into his skin. He tries to call out for help, but all words are held back; stopped by the soiled rag that has been crudely stuffed into his mouth.  A mixture of blood and sweat drips into his eyes. A large, vicious gash across the top of his right eyebrow; the  result of catching his face on the door frame when the gunshot had pitched his body forward.  

He’s able to register his surroundings. Captive in the locker that previously held Neysa and Aarev; face down on the soiled mattress. The odour hits him at full strength now; a combination of old sweat, stale piss, feces, and puke. His stomach lurches; chest heaving and retching, eyes watering and this throat burning when he’s forced to swallow his own vomit; unable to properly expel it with the makeshift gag shoved in his mouth.

“You’re just a mess, aren’t ya,” Nathan chuckles, then releases the grip from Tyler’s hair; shoving his face into the mattress and holding it there until he’s struggling to breathe and squirming against both the bonds around his wrists and the hand pressing down on the back of his head. “Not so tough now, are ya? So much for the big, bad Tyler Rake. You’re losing your touch; nothing thinking as quick as you used to. Turning your back like that? Maybe your brain is more fucked up than everyone thinks.”

“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!” The words are muffled against the fabric in his mouth, and Nathan gives a smirk of both annoyance and amusement.  Then uses his index and middle fingers to shove the rag even further; until it touches the back of Tyler’s throat, making him gag and retch once more.

“Used to be a time where people were afraid of you or admired you,” Nathan muses. “I don't think they’ll feel either of those now; kind of hard to be afraid of someone that’s been reduced to such a pathetic piece of shit. How does it feel? To be knocked off that pedestal of yours?”

He once more struggles against the restraints. Curling his hands into tight fists and tightening his forearms; attempting to yank his wrists apart with enough force to break the heavy plastic. Relegated to dropping  his forehead against the mattress and groaning into it with a mix of frustration, rage, and pain.

“You don’t give up, I’ll give you that much. Apparently it takes a lot more than shooting you in the back to take you out of the game. Guess you’ve got a bit of fight left in you after all.”

Tyler feels the mattress sink and sway underneath him as Nathan looms over him; one knee alongside of him as the other hovers over the small of his back and a hand once more grips his hair. And he screams into both the gag and the mattress when the younger man presses his knee against the fresh bullet wound; his entire body weight coming down on the injured area. The pain is intense; sharp and agonizing, causing his entire body to lock up as a defence mechanism. His vision blurs and his head swims; the numbness in his feet increasing and mobility worsening in his legs. Yet he manages to fight back; thrashing wildly against the mattress as he attempts to shake the former Marine off of him.

“You got some balls, Rake, I’ll give you that,” Nathan smirks, and finally removes his knee from Tyler’s back. “Guess you haven’t learned your lesson, huh? You fuck with the wrong people, this is what happens. It catches up to you; sooner or later. Now do me a favour...look up…” he yanks Tyler’s head back by the hair. “...you see that?” he nods at the cell phone perched on a chair at the foot of the mattress. “See what I’m doing there? We’re gonna save this little moment of ours. For prosperity. So I can look back on this moment fondly. WHILE I’m pissing on your grave. And fucking that cute little wife of yours.”

“Fuck you!”

“What was that?” Nathan yanks the rag from Tyler’s mouth. “Did you just say ‘fuck you’? Is that what you said? I think you’ve got this all wrong. I’m going fuck HER. Whether she wants me to or not. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“I will fucking kill you!” Tyler rages “With my bare fucking hands! If you go anywhere near my wife, I will fucking bury you!”

“You’re not exactly in the position to be making threats. I seem to be the one in control here. And trust me, when she sees this little video of you? When she sees what a pathetic little bitch she’s married to? She’s going to ask me for it; beg for it from a real man.”

“I swear to God, if you go anywhere near her…”

“You know, now that I think of it, that little girl of yours is quite the looker. Blond hair, blue eyes, cute little smile. She’s actually more my type. I prefer them a bit older, but I’d be willing to make an exception.”

“You motherfucker! You touch her...you go anywhere near her…and I will kill you and everyone you love! I will hunt them down one by one and put a bullet in their heads! You stay away from my daughter, you stay away from my wife, or…”

“Or? Or what? You won’t be around to protect them. And it’s not just me you have to worry about. There’s more of us out there. Mahajan’s been more than generous with the money. Everyone has a price, Rake. Except for holier than thou, self righteous you, of course. You had the chance; to be rich. All you had to do was give up the kid and the girl. But you didn’t take it. All because you had to be a hero.”

“I’m no hero. I’m just not a psychotic piece of shit. Who am I talking to right now? Which one of your personalities?  Which one of your imaginary friends?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Or WHO you’re talking to.”

“I’m talking to a fucking psycho. A little bitch who couldn’t beat me in a fair fight so he shot me from behind. That’s a change for you, yeah? Seeing as you spent the last week and a half taking it from behind.”

Nathan scowls, then shoves two fingers deep into the bullet hole at the small of Tyler’s back.

He bites back the scream that threatens to erupt, but can’t control the tears of agony that stream down his face.

“Pathetic piece of shit,” Nathan laughs, then rummages through the pockets on the back of Tyler’s vest; searching until he finds the knife. “You’ve always been pretty popular with the ladies, I heard. The muscles, the pretty blue eyes, the voice. Even Nik was quite smitten with you at one point from what she told me. She’s a nice girl; that Nik. Smart, beautiful, wicked body. Not that great in bed, but…” he shrugs. “...you can teach ‘em and train ‘em, right? Did you know she was in love with you? That she was willing to slum for you? That she would have been more than happy to spend the rest of her life completely devoted to you, waiting on you hand and foot, giving you babies. That must have been a hard decision; Nik or Esme. I don’t envy you for having to make it.”

“There was no decision to make. It was always Esme. It always WILL be her.”

“You broke Nik’s heart you know; picking her friend over her. I don’t think you ever quite appreciated just how she felt about you. Everything she was willing to give up for you. And I get it, I do. You had to make a choice. Believe me, I think you made the right one. The little ones are the freaks in bed, am I right?”

“Fuck you,” Tyler retorts. “Don’t talk about my wife like that. Don’t even say her name. Get your name out of your fucking mouth.”

“Defending your woman at all costs. I like that. I admire it, actually. But…” Nathan moves up the makeshift bed, straddling Tyler’s body and then sitting down on his upper back, pinning him to the mattress. “...I still think you need to be taught a lesson. Nik deserves that.”

He sees the flint that comes off the blade of the knife as Nathan brings it into view. Hand moving towards his face and bringing the tip to rest under his right eye; pressed against the middle of his orbital bone. When  he feels it puncture the skin, he attempts to fight back; summoning the will to dig the toes of his boots into the mattress, hips raising slightly and then giving out. Not enough power or mobility; the blood loss and the bullet lodged somewhere in his lower spine robbing him of any semblance of strength.   And as the knife presses even further  and the tip touches bone, he vows not to scream; biting down on his tongue instead as a brutally deep and slow slice is made from the middle of his eye to his temple.

Once the damage is inflicted, Nathan calmly cleans the bloody blade on the back of Tyler’s shirt, then returns the knife to the pocket on his vest.  “You know,  I did like you at first,” he says, as climbs off the mattress, momentarily abandoning his prey. “I liked you a lot, actually.”

The lightheadedness returns; that groggy sensation that comes from blood loss and when your system starts to go into shock. And despite the pain coursing through him and the weakness that envelopes him, Tyler manages to roll himself onto his back. His vision is blurred; a combination of the haziness that comes before passing out, sweat, and the blood that now covers his face.  It coats his lips; the metallic taste strong on his tongue. And he lies there in the middle of the soiled and filthy mattress; eyes closed as he draws in rapid, ragged breaths. Arms still struggling to free his wrists from the plastic ties that hold them together.

“Don’t pass out on me now,” Nathan says, as he once more kneels on the mattress, a crowbar in his hand. “I’m not done having fun with you yet. I want to make sure Mahajan gets his money’s worth. “

“He’s dead. Mahajan. He died about half an hour ago.”

“Bullshit.”

“Anil killed him. We planned it; he’d kill Mahajan while we made our way in here.”

“You’re lying.”

“He put two in the old man’s head. In the shower room at the prison. It’s over. And if you haven’t gotten paid yet, you never will. There’s not going to be any money.”

“You’re fucking lying!” Nathan snarls, and with an end of the crowbar in each hand, leans over Tyler and attempts to press it into his throat.  

Tyler immediately reacts.  Smashing his forehead into the younger man’s face; immediately shattering his nose and knocking out his top front teeth. Then he draws both knees into his body and slams them into Nathan’s chest, breaking several ribs and sending him sprawling onto the floor.   He seizes the opportunity as the former Marine curls into a fetal position and bellows in pain; using the last of his strength to  push himself up into a sit. His legs are operating at half power -if not less- and his feet are almost completely numb, but he manages to push himself off the mattress and onto the cement below; forcing himself up onto his knees and then shuffling on them towards the door.

“You stupid prick!” Nathan rages, and lands a kick to the back of Tyler’s head.

His vision momentarily goes black and his forehead and nose collide with the cement; a sickening crunch echoing through the room. And he’s unable to control the scream that erupts from his mouth when the crowbar connects with the back of his right thigh, fracturing the femur. He has nothing left; sight blinded by the impending loss of consciousness and a blanket of blood. His entire body is useless now; sheer agony ripping through every inch of him, all feeling now absent in both legs.  And he's gasping and panting for breath when Nathan once more leans over him; the cell phone directly in front of his face and the muzzle of his own gun pressed against the back of his head.

“Do you have anything to say?” Nathan asks. “To your wife? To your kids? Look at the camera. Let them see you alive for one last time.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Look at them!” the younger man orders, and slams his heel down onto the bullet wound in Tyler’s back. “I said fucking look at them! Say something!”

“No. I won’t.  I won’t do it. I have nothing to say. She knows. She already knows. She’s always known.”

“At least say goodbye. They deserve that, don’t you think? A goodbye?”

“I don’t say that word. WE don’t say it. We never say it.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much anyway. You’ll get to see your wife and kids soon. That’s if you all end up in the same place. And not before me and the other guys have some with your wife and your little girls.”

“You fucking prick! You’ll pay for this. I promise you that. You’ll fucking pay.”

“You first,” Nathan says, and moves the gun to Tyler’s temple. “Fitting, huh? How it all begins and ends in Dhaka?”

Through his blurred and weakening vision he sees it. Mere inches from his face. Toes and soles of dirty combat boots in the doorway and the tattered and weathered fabric of cargo pants.  The gunshot is deafening within the locker, and when the full weight of Nathan’s body falls onto his, the pain and the darkness finally take over. Eyes closing and cheek colliding with the floor.

*****

When Tyler comes to he’s once more in the back of the panel van; lying on his left side with a bucket -half full of expelled stomach contents- tipped towards his face. He can feel the telltale stickiness; the blood on his face and lips quickly drying.  It’s worse than before; both the pain and the all over weakness. His vision blurry and his head swimming; no feeling or movement in either of his legs. If he had the energy he’d be terrified; panicking at the inability to even wiggle his toes or move his feet within his boots. But he has nothing left; no strength, no will, no hope. All his limbs and his head feel impossibly heavy; eyes and brain unable to focus on what is going on around him.  

Voices. Koen and Rata. They’ve abandoned their usual banter and their off hand and cutting remarks; both serious as they talk in low, even tones that do little to hide the fear and worry. And he can hear the rumble of the engine and the crunch of tires on gravel; each light bump or hard brake feeling as if he’s being rocked to his very core.

“What the fuck…” he manages, and attempts to sit up; his surroundings spinning out of control around him.

“Whoa...whoa…” Koen lays a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to lie down. “...easy now, mate. Easy. Don’t move too much. Don’t want to make things worse. We got ya.”

“My legs…I can’t feel my legs...” he raises his head and looks down at the limbs in question; eyes narrowing in confusion at the sight of an unknown object sticking out his thigh; thick and jagged, tearing straight through the fabric of his pants. And his head pounds and spins when the horror sets in; the realization that he’s staring down at a piece of his shattered femur protruding from his body. “What the fuck is that? What….?”

Rata gives a grim, almost apologetic smile and then yanks his shirt over his head; using it to cover Tyler’s thigh.

“Why can’t I feel my legs? Why the fuck is there a bone sticking out of them? What the hell…?”

“You took one to the back,” Koen explains. “Pretty low down. And your right leg is  broken up pretty good. Probably just the shock; the reason you can’t feel anything.”

“What the fuck is going on? What happened? What…?”

“Just try and relax,” Rata says, and shuffles closer to him; using a makeshift towel made from a torn up t-shirt to stem the flow of blood that comes from the cut across Tyler’s face. “We’re almost there. Just hang in there, mate. Won’t be much longer.”

“Chopper?” he asks.

“Hospital.”

“I can’t go to the fucking hospital! Not here. Not Dhaka. Mumbai.”

“There’s no time to get to Mumbai,” Koen informs him, and presses a rag to the gunshot wound in Tyler’s lower back. “You’ll be dead before we get there. You’ll bleed out.”

“Bleed out?” The confusion and disorientation make his head throb. “What happened? Did we get them? Neysa and Aarev?”

“They’re safe,” Rata assures him. “You got them out. They’re safe now.”

“I can’t stop it,” Koen anxiously frets. “There’s just  too fucking much of it! It just keeps coming and I can’t stop it!”

“Is it bad?” Tyler weakly inquires. “How bad is it? My back.”

“Don’t you even worry about it. We’ll get you to the hospital and get you taken care of.”

“I asked how bad it was!” His hands begin patting his stomach and sides down, searching for an exit wound. “Is it my liver? Did it hit my liver?”

“Could have nicked it,” Koen says. “No way of telling for sure. Just lie still and let us take care of you. Let us get you to the hospital.”

“My phone. I need my phone. Where’s my phone?”

“You don’t need your goddamn phone!” Koen snarls. “What the hell would you need that for?”

“You need to get it. My phone. There’s a video. He took it. Nathan. He was going to send it to her. I need you to get it. My phone.”

Koen reaches into the side pocket of his own cargo pants, pulling out the item in question.

“Check it,” Tyler tells him. “Check the last message sent. And the email. Check if he sent it.”

Koen does what he’s told, then shakes his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing been sent.”

“Erase it. She can’t see it. She can NEVER see it. Get rid of it. You gotta erase it.  I don’t want her seeing that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Koen assures him, and his eyes narrow when he finds the file in question; jaw clenching with rage as he watches the first thirty seconds before quickly deleting it. “That sick mother fucker”

“Call her,” Tyler instructs. “I need to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate. I don’t think…”

“Call her,” he insists. “I need you to call her. I need to make sure she’s okay. I need to hear her voice. Call her.”

Sighing heavily, Koen reluctantly dials the first number in the call history, then holds the phone to his friend’s ear.

“Tyler?” She answers on the second ring, voice frantic. “Oh my God...Tyler…”

“Hey, baby…” he manages, the mere sound of her voice causing a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Are you okay? Everything’s good there?”

“I’m okay. Things are fine here. Quiet.”

“What about the kids? Did you hear from them? Did you call them? Are they alright?”

“Nik called a little ago and said they’re okay. Not even a single scare or even the slightest threat in Mumbai. She said it was just like any other day. That the kids were outside playing with Ovi and Kyle; Addie was taking a nap. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay,” he admits, and chokes back a sob. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. What happened? How bad is it? How bad are YOU?”

“Pretty bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t come and get you.”

“Tyler…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...you’re going to be okay...you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so, baby. Not this time.”

“Don’t say that,” Esme gently scolds. “Don’t talk like that. You don’t give up, remember? You don’t know the meaning of those words. You never have.  You survived seven years ago and you’ll survive now. I know you will.”

“I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t want it to end this way.”

“Nothing is ending. It’s nowhere close to the end. You’re going to be fine. You’ll get looked at it and you’ll be fine. You’re always fine.”

“Tell the kids I love them. That I’ll always love them. And tell Ovi too. And that I’m so fucking proud of him.  Tell them all that I wish it could have been different.”

“Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this. Don’t you say your goodbyes. You NEVER say that word. You don’t believe in that word, remember?”

“I’ve always loved you. I always will. I need you to know that. It’s important that you know that.”

“I DO know. I’ve always known. And I love you. So much. I’ll get there as soon as I can, I promise. You just hang in there, okay? I’ll get to you. Somehow. Just don’t give up, alright? You’re not allowed to give up, Tyler Rake.”

“I gotta go.”

“No. Don’t,” Esme tearfully pleads. “Don’t hang up. Please don’t hang up. Tyler…”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and disconnects the call. Phone dropping from his hand as he once more slips into unconsciousness.

*****

She’s unsure of how long she’s been pacing the floor; bare feet repeatedly shuffling against the polished tiles in the kitchen. Cell phone clutched tightly in one hand, the other moving over the top and sides of the small -but very visible- baby bump. It’s comforting regardless how far along she is or how much she is -or isn’t-  showing; palm travelling over her stomach in slow, smooth circles.

“Hang in there little bean,” Esme pleads aloud. “I need you to stay calm and hang in there, alright? Because now is NOT the time to be giving me issues. We need to stay calm. Or try to. Daddy needs us to be okay…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...daddy needs you to hang in there. Because once he’s all better, he’s going to watch you grow and rub my tummy and talk to you all the  time. He’s going to teach you all about surfing and you tell you what life is like in Australia. And before you know it, you’ll recognize his voice; just like all your brothers and sisters did. And it’s a nice voice. A VERY nice voice. And you’ll kick and squirm for him every time he talks to you. So you HAVE to hang in there. Daddy needs another surfing buddy. He always says he can never have too many of those. Or maybe it’s a football team he’s trying to build. Maybe THAT’S why he wants so many kids. I’m onto him.”

The cell phone beeps in her hand, alerting her to a text message. Nik. Asking her if she’s heard anything yet. It’s only been ten minutes since the last time the woman checked in, and the answer remains the same. No calls, no texts. Tyler’s phones -both SAT and personal- immediately going to voicemail. Esme has left several messages; everything from stressed yet calm,  to worried and tearful, and then ending with irrational and frantic.  Begging him…begging ANYONE...to let her know what the hell is going on.

Her stomach flutters and grumbles; nerves had kept her from eating all morning. Constant butterflies that are more painful than pleasant, and accompanied by incessant nausea that holds the promise of disappearing as soon as she forces herself to be sick, but only continues to gnaw at her insides. Rationally she knows that now is not the time to be thinking about food; her phone could start coming to life any minute or Koen and Rata could come barging through the door to whisk her away to a hospital to be by Tyler’s side.  

Or they could show up with the worst possible news; that  the brief phone call with him was in fact the last time she’d ever hear his voice.  That whatever happened to him…whatever had gone down at that storage facility...had just been too much for an already damaged body, vulnerable mind, and near broken spirit to withstand. Yet he hadn’t sounded THAT bad; exhausted and weak but certainly not close to death. She would have been able to pick up on that.  Surely there would have been something in his voice or in his words. She’d heard pain and fear and worry, but hadn’t heard DEATH.

It’s something she’s accustomed with; many a first hand experience as people lay dying around her in the Middle East. She’s held countless hands as fellow Marines and even strangers - innocent civilians- took their last breaths. That rattle they make; the last of the air being expelled from failing lungs. The desperation and the pleading in their voices; requests for comfort and miraculous healing and eventual mercy. She didn’t hear any of that. And what she did hear could have been nothing more than the byproduct of fear and concern; a man in physical agony that didn’t truly believe he was dying, but was desperate for relief.

“No,” she orders into the quiet of the kitchen. “No. He's fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s always fine.”

She attempts to distract herself from fatalistic thoughts, moving now to the fridge and throwing the door wide open. Rummaging through the fully stocked shelves and compartments and finding nothing appealing and growing more frustrated with each passing second. The futile search and the determined growling of her stomach suddenly becomes too much to bear and profanities spill from her mouth as tears stream down her face. Angrily slamming the fridge door shut; its contents rattling noisily in response.

“Esme?” Koen stands in the doorway; the front of his shirt and the thighs of his cargo pants saturated in blood. It stains his hands as well; caught in every crevice and crack and gathered around his calluses and under his nails. His face is grim; eyes dark, fresh bruises and cuts decorating both cheeks and under one eye.

“Tell me he’s okay,” she pleads, one hand tightening around her phone,  the other once more finding her baby bump. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

“I…” Koen begins, then clamps his mouth shut and slowly shakes his head.

“No.” The sob is choked as it comes out of her mouth. “No. You’re not here to tell me this. You’re not here for THAT. I know you’re not here for THAT.”

“Esme...”

“No,” she firmly repeats, and suddenly the room feels as if it’s spinning. Panic settles in, making her feel nauseous and lightheaded. Her entire body swaying as she takes a step towards him. “No.  It can’t be THAT. It can’t be.”

The next step she takes is wobbly; her legs threatening to give out from underneath her. And she finds herself caught in her friend’s strong embrace; his body warm and soothing as he pulls her tightly into him. A comforting hand on the middle of her back, the other resting in her hair.

“This can’t be happening,” she sobs into his shoulder. “This isn’t happening. Please tell me it’s not. Tell me he’s not dead. Tell me he’s okay.”

“He’s not dead. But he’s not okay either.”

“How bad is he?”

“I don’t even know.”

“How bad does he look?”

“Pretty damn bad.”

“Where is he now?”

“Still here. In Dhaka.”

She frowns. “Why not Mumbai? You guys have a chopper. Why not get him out of here? Get him somewhere safe? Mumbai would have been a better choice. Why didn’t…?”

“There was no time.”

“Where is he?”

“Evercare Hospital.  It’s one of the private ones. Run by that doctor that Anil sent over the night. He’s  in good hands there; best care he can get, I promise. When I left he was still in the ER. They were looking after him and trying to figure out what tests they needed to do; so they could figure out what they’re looking at and how to take care of him. He was breathing on his own, though. No tubes. At least not yet.”

“But it isn’t safe here,” Esme argues. “In Dhaka. The bounty….”

“There’s no more bounty. It’s been lifted.”

“It’s over?”

“It’s all over. Asif’s people are dead. So is Mahajan. There’s no one left.”

“What about Neysa and Aarev?”

“Safe. He got them out.”

“And Nathan? He’s the one who did this, right? He’s the one who hurt Tyler?”

Koen nods.

“Is he dead? Tell me he’s dead.”

“He’s dead. I made sure of it.”

“You killed him?”

“I emptied an entire magazine in his head and face.”

“Good,” she says, and defiantly holds back a flood of tears. “Thank you. For doing that for Tyler. Thank you.”

Koen once more embraces her tightly, hands slowly running up and down her back.

“And he was breathing?" Esme asks. “On his own? He didn’t need to be intubated?”

“Needed a bit of oxygen; through those tubes that go in your nose. Doctor was pretty surprised; said he’s never seen someone that torn up that didn’t need more help. That’s a good sign, yeah? That he didn’t need more help? Shows how strong he is.”

“Or stubborn. Or both. You’ll take me there? To Tyler?”

“That’s what I’m here for. Are you okay? You gonna be alright?”

“Probably not,” she admits. “But I guess I have to be. For him. He needs me to be alright. You know how Tyler is. Even when he’s at his worst or he’s suffering and in pain, all he worries about is me. Never himself. Just me.”

“Well he’s a fool in love. What do you expect?”

“I’ll have to find my things. I have no idea where anything is. My purse, my shoes…”

“Saw both out in the front hall.”

“My phone.”

He grins. “It’s in your hand.”

Esme glances down. “Oh fuck. I AM losing it.”

“Come here, kiddo.”  Koen draws her into another tight hug, a hand on the back of her head, guiding it down to his shoulder. “He’s gonna pull through. He always does.  He’s a tough little bastard. Well maybe not so little. But tough. And a bastard.”

She manages a small laugh.

“And when he opens his eyes, your face is going to be the first thing he sees. Just like seven years ago. And trust me; there ain’t no better medicine than that.”

“I need him to be okay. I need him to get through this. For me, For the kids. For this baby. I need him, Koen. I can’t lose him.”

“You won’t,” he promises,  and gives her a tight, reassuring squeeze and drops a kiss on the top of her head.  With a comforting smile, he places  a hand on the small of her back and leads her from the room.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sammy x Joey/Norman on a autumn date? Maybe to a festival?

Summary: While the studio is being fumigated due to an unexpected cockroach infestation, Sammy and Abigail are invited by Norman to join him and his family to go to the Harvest Festival.

---

[[MORE]]

Sammy wasn't entirely sure what possessed him to say yes to Norman's invitation... Maybe it was the slight nostalgia that the concept of the Harvest Festival brought with it (his mother had loved the harvest season, especially when everyone was setting up for the festivities that usually entailed). Maybe it was the boredom that came with unexpected free time (he was so used to being busy that the sudden need for the studio to be evacuated and blasted to high heavens with pesticides, had completely thrown him for a loop).

Or maybe it was the fact it was a weekend and little Abigail was antsy from being cooped up inside without much to do, since there was no need for her to be at her friends' house until Sammy returned home from work.

Either way, as soon as Norman proposed they go to the festival as one big group, Sammy had uncharacteristically jumped on the opportunity. Odd indeed, since he wasn't one to go to festivals himself.

And who could blame him?

New York simply lacked the charm his hometown had had when it came to these sorts of things. It felt too impersonal. A quickly set up fairground that inspired little trust in him, and that brought with it silly rigged games and disgusting sugar and fat saturated foods. It was a bunch of charlatans trying to milk you out of your hard-earned money through using your own hubris, or children against you. But for what it was worth, Norman seemed to thoroughly enjoy it all.

Or rather, he seemed to enjoy cheating the cheats.

"How are you so good at these wretched games?!" He'd completely given up on the ring toss, having found that the rings were weighted so unevenly that they never made its mark. His much larger companion on the other hand, was having no such issues and made quick work of his own round, collecting the prize his middle child, Louise, had practically begged him to get for her.

Once she got her so coveted comically large teddy bear, she ran to the side of her mother so she could show her the treasured stuffed beast.

"I've been to plenty o'these types o'festivals. Don't take long to learn what them thievin' fellows got up their sleeves." Norman winked at the guy behind the stall, grinning very much like the fox that got the hen when the young man, no barely out of his teens, shot him a dirty look.

"I see..." Of course Norman Polk wouldn't be deterred by a few rigged setups. Bright man that he was.

"Would yous like me t'teach you how to win at some o'them?" The louisianian offered, which Sammy immediately declined.

"I'd rather not get kicked out of the fair. You've earned plenty of dirty looks already, and you still haven't won all the kids some silly toys." The blond pointed out, glancing over at the five Polk children, as well as their two cousins and Abigail. Norman's brother had unfortunately been unable to join, but he'd allowed his children to come with.

Louise was hugging her new teddy bear as tight as she could, glasses slightly askew as she pressed her face to its tummy. Albert seemed pleased with simple wooden figurine that had been carved in the form of a horse and varnished to perfection, a prize that had been exchanged for a few tokens you could earn in some absurd guessing game that Sammy hadn't cared to learn the rules of. Even little Willard was content chewing on a medium sized duck plushie that Norman had gotten out of one of those bottle games.

Both Nancy and Aaron had no prizes of their own, instead focusing on whatever caught their eyes (the oldest of the Polk boys seeming very interested in taking photos of the activities instead of involving himself). Nelson, Lydia and Abby hadn't found any thing that interested them enough to ask.

"They won't kick us out, despite my good fortunes I still gots to pay for partakin' in their businesses..." The projectionist reassured with an infectious smile. One Sammy couldn't help mirror back at him. "Besides, wouldn't miss t'opportunity to go up on the giant wheel with my good work friend, now would I?"

"Urgh... Can't wait... I've always wanted to be suspended in the air thousands of feet above the ground in a literal death trap of a contraption." Sammy eyed the ferris wheel with dubious confidence. How could he trust something so large that was built in so little time, only to be dismantled not too long after?

"Thought yous wanted to go to Coney Island?" Norman teased.

"Coney Island is maintained year long... This is only for a few days!" The music director argued as they moved on to the next game. Abigail gasped loudly before rushing over and pointing.

"Sammy! Sammy look!" Her eyes were alight with pure joy as she pointed at... An insanely large doll. Not just any doll either. It appeared to be some sort of goat, but it had clearly been made up of several other dolls just from noticing the difference in materials from all the different body parts.

It had bat wings, a dragon's tail, a forked tongue and honestly it looked less like a goat and more like some sort of demon thanks to the mismatched button eyes. It was the ugliest doll Sammy had ever seen.

"He's perfect!" Abigail proclaimed, clearly undeterred by the... Unsettling nature of the doll.

"He's... Certainly something alright." His father would have yelled at him for letting his little sister turn out as some sort of devil worshipping hellion. Sammy could practically hear his gruff voice disowning him now.

"I want him! Seamus needed a big brother to protect him, just like you do for me!" She turned to give him her biggest puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

".... Fine, I'll... I'll try. But these games aren't my forte." He noted the strength testing game. This was going to throw his back, he just knew it.

But hey, at least if he got her the doll that'd be her birthday covered next month. Just get another cake and celebrate privately. And in all honesty as horrid as the doll looked, it certainly wasn't as unsettling to him as the unblinking gaze if the grinning demon back at work...

-

Sammy didn't get Abby the doll, but then he didn't need to. The moment the hammer hit and his pride was shattered by his apparent lack of strength, Norman stepped up and helped get that massive goat thing for his little sister.

They'd ended up hitting up a few more games until everyone had a prize of their own. Even Sammy himself couldn't help smile fondly at the carved crow figurine currently in his pocket. For luck, Norman had insisted, as corvids were among the smartest creatures in the planet despite their crowing being less than pleasing to the ear.

Now, overlooking the fairgrounds, high up on the ferris wheel, Sammy watched the festivities go on with a calm serenity he rarely got to bask in. His sister was sitting beside him, sleepily clutching her new doll, while her friends talked about school things holding onto their own toys. He found it quaint that Lydia had insisted on a getting a wooden sword, while her older brother requested a rather cute looking cat plush that he was clutching tightly to his chest as if his life depended on it.

Norman was, meanwhile, holding onto his infant son and asking his eldest daughter about medical school. In the other cabin Maggie and the remaining Polk children were attempting communication through Aaron's camera's flash, which Norman would on occasion reply to via flashing a portable flashlight he carried on his person.

This wasn't exactly the most conventional of 'dates' but Sammy wouldn't have it any other way. He was glad he agreed to join the Polks to come to this scam of a festival.

[inkspiots]

and the car door opened and a man stepped out

"You're early," Persephone hissed, eyes lit up with disdain as she watched her husband step from the train car to solid earth. She could almost picture the cracks his feet could cause if he exerted the least bit of force to his steps (he wouldn't, she knew, but she could still picture it). He was early, by at least two months, and they both were well aware of that. Why in the name of hell are you so early, husband? The goddess seethed silently, maybe knowing that she wouldn’t be getting a straight answer in the slightest, no matter what she thought to ask.

"I missed ya," he replied, and held out his hand in what she knew could either take as a plea to come with him or a demand to continue this everlasting arrangement like they were meant to do. She wasn't sure which it was anymore, hadn't been sure about it for at least three hundred years now. When she didn't take a step towards or away from him, when she didn't attempt to close or increase the distance between them, his hand dropped.

She could feel Hermes' eyes, old and tired as her favorite brother was of her always coming and going. She never stayed for long anymore, and she knew without a doubt that it was taking a toll on her friends ; on the mortals with whom she had spent years with, but she also knew that there was nothing she could do about it. Persephone stepped towards her husband with a resigned sigh, and climbed into the train car with all the force of a winter wind.

Her husband said nothing, even as he closed the car door behind them. The ride to their home, to his kingdom, was silent. It was the longest damn train ride of her immortal life.

/

Hades still hadn't said anything, even as they descended the last of the stairs that led into his realm. Then, she asked, with a voice that somehow sounded both curious and annoyed to his ears, "In the coldest time of year, tell me, why is it so hot down here? Hotter than a crucible ; Hades, it ain't right and it ain't natural."

“Lover, you were gone so long, and, Lover, I was lonesome.” He began, and Persephone had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't so long ago (to her, at least) that he'd called her by her name, not merely Lover or Wife or something of the sort, but it still seemed like many more years than it really had been. "And so, I built a foundry in the ground beneath your feet."

The Goddess of Spring and The Dead and The Underworld shook her head softly, letting her coat drop to the ground. She didn't think she had it in her to respond without the underlying regrets of years gone by seeping through the cracks.

/

Her office is empty now that all the spirits and shades and the sort have gone back to their working in the mines, and there's a half empty glass of bourbon sitting on her desk, so she shakes off the feeling that there's something she really should be doing to stop this whole damn thing before it inevitably gets worse -- and it will get worse, she knows, because it always, always, does. She opens a desk drawer to refill her glass and instead of copious amounts of alcohol meeting her gaze, Persephone is met with the sight of a younger Hades with eyes brighter than any morning sun she ever saw as a child.

She picks up the photograph with fingers that shake as hard as they did when she was young and in love and the taste of fresh freedom rested in the hollow of her throat. It's a simple picture, really -- her husband isn't doing much in it, just looking to the side at something that she can't see but remembers so clearly it's almost like she's back there, in that back room of their old -- their first, from when they were still newlyweds -- house that she hasn't stepped foot in years. Persephone rests the picture on the surface of her desk like she can't bear to hold it anymore and downs the rest of her drink like she's a woman dying of thirst.

She slams her glass onto the desk with enough force to shatter it, and tries not to remember the sight of her oldest son's face as he died.

/

The twins are their only children to be born in the house of her mother. He comes first ; her son is born silent and she fears for all of a moment that he is dead, but then he takes a breath and the world rights itself on its axis and she remembers that even gods -- even gods that are born of the long dead and the recently deceased and the still dying -- take a moment to really come alive. The first thing her son sees, when he opens his eyes for the very first time, is the soft face of his grandmother before she wraps him in a blanket and lays him gently to the side to welcome his sister in the same way.

The girl is born quiet, too, and she waits until Demeter has set her beside her brother before she starts to cry. The sound seems almost out of place in the small room of her mother’s cottage, and it takes Persephone all of ten minutes to find in herself the strength to sit up and ask her mother if she might hold her children now ( she’s tries to ignore the distinct emptiness of the space beside her, the space that should be taken up by her husband ). Hades wasn’t aware the twins had been born yet, and he shouldn’t be, really ; they weren’t due for another month at least. Her mother gently lays her son in her arms, and Persephone shifts her body weight as though that may help her get a better hold on the sleeping babe she’s cradling. “Hey there, love.”

“What’ll you name ‘em?” Her mother asks, voice soft and Persephone feels the bed dip as Demeter takes a seat on the other end of the mattress, the little girl resting easily in her arms, and it takes the goddess a few moments to answer.

“‘M gonna call him Zagerus,” she begins, and doesn’t take her eyes from the crown of her son’s head. "And her name'll be Melione."

The sight of her mother's smile as she presses a soft kiss to the top of her granddaughter's head does something to ease the crushing phantom weight of feeling in her own chest. "Perfect."

/

When Makaria is all of eleven years old, her stark white hair ( a courtesy of her father, because his hair has always looked like it's dusted in snow and ash no matter what age he appeared ) reaches to her mid - back and she takes a pair of gardening shears that her mother kept in the outdoor cabinet and chops it off to her shoulders. Her older brother laughs at the sight of her uneven locks and pushes her gently towards their father's office, where not a soul does anything to stop her from opening the large oak door. Even the Moirai, who watch her with devastatingly blind stares, say nothing as she uses the full weight of her body to shove the doors open wide enough to get through.

"πατέρας*?" The youngest goddess of the underworld says, even though her father is looking directly at her when she walks up to his desk.

Hades raises a single eyebrow at his youngest child and leans back in his chair without taking his eyes from her. It takes a moment for her to realize that he's laughing before the sound actually leaves his mouth. Then, he breathes, "Lord, child, what have you done to your hair?"

"Well," she starts, and she can feel the heat of a sun that doesn't exist down in her father's place spreading across her face and neck. He can see it, too, she bets. "Mama's always complaining that my hair is too long to mess with, like hers is, so I went and made it shorter. I think Meli likes her hair long, but I don't get why. Long hair doesn't feel nice ; it's too heavy."

And she's taking a million miles a minute like her mother did when she was nervous and Hades reaches a hand over his desk to brush the stray bangs from Makaria's face as she shuts her mouth. "Go on home, girl, and we'll even out your hair when I get back, alright?"

Makaria nods slightly, and when she opens the door to leave, she is met with the sight of Thanatos and Hypnos about to knock against the wood. The boys look down at her ; Hypnos runs a hand through his own white hair and grins at her, but Thanatos just smiles and says, "nice haircut, Maka." 

She's down the steps before the twins step into her father's office, and when her mother comes home a month later, the woman laughs as the sight of her daughter's hair before pulling her into a tight hug.

/

The boy is screaming so loud that he's sure his father can hear him down there, in his place of factories and machines below the soils of the Earth. His uncle's hand is hot against his face, burning his eyes up from the inside out ( that is, of course, what Zeus intended to do ) and when it is removed, Ploutos Adonius, god of the wealth inside the ground and the things that grow up on the soil, finds that the only thing he could see was darkness. "θείος**? θείος, what have you done to me?"

And the Lord Zeus, husband and king and uncle and brother and tyrant, lets out an ever so slight hum, and his hand comes down on Ploutos' shoulder with a sort of weight that wasn't there before ( he does notice, however, that the heat is gone ). "Ploutos Adonius, of the Agricultural Wealth of Earth, you will give out your riches not by the biases of the world clouding your mind, but you will only go by the actions of man."

He says it like it shouldn't be the first thing he went by, like it wasn't going to be the first thing he went by, and Ploutos feels his hands ( his hands, that which are pale from a lack of real sunlight in his childhood home and that which are scarred from a life digging through the roots of his mother's garden filled with thorns ) start shaking. He stills them by sheer power of will, and tilts his head towards the sounds of his uncle's movement. "Ain't no reason to blind me, Uncle." He says, and there's a moment where the throne room of Olympus, where his grandmother sits ten feet away from him and where his father is not allowed, goes absolutely silent.

"Ain't there?"

"I woulda been fair to them mortals, Uncle. I woulda been right, there was no reason to blind me."

And the Lord Zeus laughs, like the concept of being fair and being right is oh - so - foreign to him that he can not tell that Ploutos is being deadly serious. "You're a god, boy," the king of the sky says, and his voice sounds like the beginnings of a storm, "you ain't ever gonna be fair."

/

The door of his office closes at the same moment he shuts the cabinet, and Hades lets out a breath so ragged it’s a damn wonder that he’d held it in so long. The songbird had just walked out of his office with nothing on her mind but the food she was bound to get sometime soon, after her first day’s shift was over and done, and the Lord of the Underground and the King of the Dead could not find it in himself to step away from the window that looked out to his factories and his Wall. He was getting too old for this, wasn’t he?

He drags a hand down his face as he sits back down in his desk chair, bracing his arms against his knees as he leans forward. It’s been one hundred, two hundred, three hundred and more years since the god of the long dead and the still dying has felt like the world is slipping out from under his iron grip, and for half a second of pure self pity, Hades Aidoneus ( first born son of the mother - made Rhea and the tyrant - overthrown Kronos ) wishes for the presence of his wife. He knows, he knows, that he will not get it -- that he will not get it every again, for as long as he may live, from now until forever -- but he wishes for it all the same.

/

When Spring rolls around again, and the poet in the story is all but dead, there is a boy sitting on the ground out by the railroad tracks. His uncle stands guard over him with a hand braced on his shoulder like the comforting weight of a blanket, while his own hands are pressed flat against the soil, listening. "The train's almost here, Unc. The ground's shaking over it."

And Hermes, god of travelers and traders and thieves, starts to laugh. "That it is, boy."

His hand leaves the boy's shoulder as the train chugs right up to the platform and he descends to open up the train car door for the Lady of Spring. The boy on the ground tilts his head back to the sun with his eyes shut tight and listens to the sound of his mother's footsteps still when she sees him, lounging in the dirt.

Ploutos Adionius, god of the riches below the Earth and the crops that grow above it, gives her a smile, and says, "Hey there, Ma."

"Ploutos," Persephone says, and there's a sad sort of smile to her voice when she speaks his name, "Won't you get up off that ground and give your mama a hug, boy?"

He's up on his feet before she gets finished talking, and there's a sort of force to way he barrels into her, arms going around her middle even though he's just as tall as his father now, and ducks his head against her shoulder. She can't tell if his shaking is from tears or laughter, but she suspects it might be a little bit of both.

"Where have you been, up here? I ain't seen you in years, Love." His mother asks him, and it takes another moment of his head tucked against her shoulder before he finds it in himself to step back and focus his sightless eyes on where he thinks her face to be. She tilts his chin down a bit with the tip of her finger.

"I've been a little bit of everywhere, Mama." He says, and he smiles again like he can't really hell himself. When was the last time he'd spoken to any of his family, much less his mother? "'Course, I don't think anyone takes you very seriously when you can't see them. Them mortals some places think just because I can't see them means that I don't know what they say about me.

"I'm blind, Mama, I ain't deaf." And he pauses, like there's something else he's supposed to say in that moment and he doesn't really know what it is. Then, he asks, "how's Da?" and he hears it in the way her breath almost catches and he feels it in the way the fingers resting against his cheek still for the briefest of seconds.

"Your Da's good. He's working." And her son laughs, like he should've known better than to ask. "'Course he is. Ain't he always?"

Hermes appears at their sides, then, slinging an arm over his sister and his nephew and grinning down at the Lady of Summer. "Welcome back to the land of the living, sister. It's been awful quiet without you around."

"Glad to be back, brother." She replies, and wraps her own arm around his shoulders, reaching out to ruffle her son's hair. Ploutos smiles again, and his mother laughs.

/

The ends of her white hair are dusted with red from the seeds the god of Death has been throwing at her for the past five minutes, turning it a sudden shade of light pink, and Makaria can barely stay sitting up with the force of her giggles. She catches one in her mouth, finally, and Thanatos grins at her with teeth white as bone. "Took you long enough, didn't it?"

"Be quiet!" She says, and shoves her hands ( stained red like blood or wine or a mix of the two with juice ) against his chest -- he leans forward, with no regard for the fact that she's getting his shirt dirty, and presses his mouth against her cheek with a laugh of his own. "I'd really rather not, πριγκίπισσα***, if that's alright with you."

She rolls her eyes fondly and pulls him down with one juice coated hand on the back of his neck to kiss him on the mouth. When he leans back against the tree they've set themselves under, she follows him forward on instinct alone.

"You could, at least, do that somewhere you can't see from the window," comes a voice from the garden's gateway, and Makaria leans her head back until she's looking up at her father and he's upside down, and says, "and, you don't, at least, have to watch us."

Thanatos leans his head forward against her shoulder, shaking with barely silent laughter, as the Lord of the Dead looks down at his youngest daughter with almost a smile and a shake of his head, and turns and goes back into his mansion of stone.

Then, the boy rests his chin on her shoulder and says, "Next time, lover, we're going to my house, not yours." The blessed girl lets out a laugh,  and he kisses her again.

/

TRANSLATIONS:

* Father

** Uncle

*** Princess

/

fin.

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Ask Nothing, The Power of a Smile, Angel On Your Shoulder

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(3 short and sweet chapters for you today before we get back into a little bit heavier stuff! I hope you enjoy seeing these two dweebs get to know each other and watching their friendship grow.)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

11. Ask nothing

Azzy’s finger hovered over the send button, something in the depths of her core churning. Was she terrible for this? For not wanting to think about it? She had already thought about it so much before she did it, she didn’t really want to think about it any more, it felt terrible. She hit send. It couldn’t make anything worse, at least.

[Azure] Hey, I’m really sorry to bother you, please let me know if you’re busy or something.

Trinity blinked as the message popped up on his screen, a frown creasing his forehead. That was a weird way to start, at least for Azure. She never apologized for anything. He couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. 

[Hotshot] I’m not busy

[Hotshot] What is it?

There was a long pause.

[Azure] I was just hoping for a distraction, if you had the time. I just broke it off with someone and I don’t really want to talk about it.

 She hoped it wasn’t too much. She’d seen him have a panic attack, and it seemed fair to her that he saw her be vulnerable too. On the other hand, she’d said she’d ignore the fact that had happened. This might just be a little too much for whatever weird dynamic they’d built for themselves. It occurred to her that maybe she should soften how serious it sounded.

[Azure] It’s really no big deal either way.

Trinity frowned at her attempt to downplay the issue. It certainly seemed like a big deal to him, if the chronically blunt Azure could be driven to such lengths. An unpleasant thought occurred to him. He didn’t think Azure would’ve been… well, essentially cheating, even if it was fake dating. He would hope that whoever this new ex was had known about the situation, but he couldn’t completely ignore the possibility that they hadn’t.

[Hotshot] Ok. But before we don’t talk about it, I have to ask. It wasn’t because of us, was it?

She couldn’t blame him for checking, though she doubted he’d feel any sympathy for her if she hadn’t told Turq. At least she hadn’t caused that deep an ache. 

[Azure] What? No, he knew, he was fine with that. It’s helping a friend, he understood. It’s unrelated. 

[Azure] Can we get to the not talking about it?

She shoved away the couple of things Trinity had done that had stuck with her in the back of her head that had been the precursor to her thinking a little too hard about her real relationship. The pulling out chairs and the protective arm over her shoulder when someone got a little too close and she got uncomfortable. Her hands shook a little and she tried not to cry as she heard Turq’s workshop doors slide open.

[Azure] Like right now?

Trinity gave a tiny sigh of relief. He was always somewhat glad when Azure showed herself to be a genuinely decent person. She did it often enough, but part of him did worry that someday she’d turn out to be like almost everyone else he knew. The longer he knew her, though, the less worried he was about that being the case. 

[Hotshot] Of course. Here, let me show you some of the prototypes I’ve been working on, they’re due to send to production soon but I was just doing a run through for improvements. What do you think?

Azzy sighed in relief herself as the files came through. Say what you wanted about Jericho, he really knew how to make a person forget things were horrible. Between this and somehow managing to get her to be something akin to comfortable in a crowd, it was nice to have him around. He somehow knew exactly what she needed to get her mind off things.

[Azure] Over on the third one, the dimensions aren’t going to fit in a standard issue cartridge.

It wasn’t the conversation itself that mattered of course, but it was something. And true to his word, he didn’t ask her for anything more than that.

12. The Power of a Smile

Trinity gave a perfectly timed laugh-- not his real laugh, but damned close-- and once again Azure wondered how exactly he knew when to do that as a chorus of reflexive laughter rose around him. She’d been to a few of these high society gatherings by now, primarily to feed Trinity information and be placeholder arm candy to keep the vultures away. When she wasn’t letting her brain wander to cybernetic innovations or small robots with no function she’d like to create, she was watching Trinity talk his way through the night with ease. He seemed to know and be known by everyone, and what’s more is that the vast majority seemed to respect him to boot. 

She listened to the questions asked and tried to guess at his answers like a game. Questions that were too direct or too personal he’d deflect with a wave of the hand and a question of his own in response. It was a tennis match he never seemed to lose and as she watched him, talking circles around their fellow partygoers, the look of admiration she fixed him with became more and more genuine. He would smile, and others would smile back even if they were upset. He would say something ought to be done, and most people would comply. He would thank them, and make it believable.

All while making some very good jokes in the back of his head for Azzy to enjoy. 

He was quick witted and sure, and she marveled at how on earth anyone got to be even close to this comfortable looking with this many people around. She knew now that the crowds bothered him, giving him the same choked feeling she got. Honestly, his was probably worse. She still wasn’t used to it, still couldn’t quite get the hang of the way he wove his way in and out of conversations, water running through the fingers of people who tried desperately to vy for his attentions. She followed at his heels, trying to smile when he did, laugh on his cue. She felt so mechanical next to him, her mind all cogs and mathematics. He led her, night after night, through a social dance she might never really understand.  Always laughed with, never laughed at. Always steering conversation, never caught off guard. 

Another glass of wine and a small exchange of glances.  She smiled and gestured to him to lead the way, ready to be impressed again. He never disappointed.

13. Angel On Your Shoulder

It was sort of incredible, Trinity reflected, how much easier it was to get through a night when you weren’t alone.

It probably helped even more that his particular companion had a mental link with him, absolutely no sense of society, and a propensity for memes. In front of him was a middle aged woman talking loudly about her children-- ostensibly to Trinity, but really to about half the room with the volume she was using to extoll their many virtues. Normally in this situation, Trinity’s eyes would be aching from forcing himself not to roll them. However, with Azzy here he now had two very good strategies to keep from wanting to drown himself in the punch bowl. The first was to pull her in a little closer to his side just as Mrs. Probably-Catholic (with the amount of children she had, it only made sense) began yet another anecdote, this one about her third-oldest son and the great assets he was forming in the accounting industry and also how handsome he was and how he’d just had his 23rd birthday and was still single, could you believe it? Apparently she’d given up on daughters, since Trinity had no reaction to those so far. Trinity just smiled, shifting his hand just a hint further down on Azzy’s hip.

“Well, that really is a shame. I really did think I might be in the same boat, spending my 23rd alone, before I met Camilla. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Camilla,” who was currently deep in thought about cybernetics and dogs and dogs with cybernetics, nodded absently, but that was all Trinity needed. She did the rest without even thinking about it. Her hand draped over his shoulder shot off tiny sparks at random intervals, and while he recognized her expression as her resting state of thoughtfulness, he knew what it said to most other people that saw it-- “don’t even think about it.” All he had to do was call the overeager woman’s attention to it, look back up, and smile.

His conversation partner’s smile faltered slightly under the weight of his own as she registered the very stubborn, very dangerous, and very pretty barnacle on his arm, and Trinity took it as an opportunity to politely excuse himself.

The second strategy Trinity could use now that Azzy was here was more for his own sake than anything else. Alone in a crowd, he was constantly stressed at worst and unfathomably bored at best. Now, a conversation with a business partner that would have been, frankly, mind numbing left him struggling not to laugh aloud. He’d always thought this particular man looked a bit like he was constantly holding a frog in his mouth, and every time he spoke he barely opened his lips, like he had to keep it from escaping. The man would not find this fact at all amusing, nor would most other people in this room, and even if they did social graces would absolutely demand they never show it. Luckily, the little voice in the back of Trinity’s head belonged to the person currently draped across his shoulders like she belonged there, and she couldn’t care less about social graces. She was much more interested in shooting back images of the man running across the ballroom, chasing down the frog as it leapt from his mouth into a stack of champagne glasses. 

Yes, everything was just a little better when you had someone to share it with.

[crysj88]

Phylax Avengers x oc Prologue

Phylax: Ancient Greek. Watcher, protector, sentinel, guardian.

Bennett Lancaster grew up in her small hometown with her head full of stories of heroes, from the latest action flick to the oldest of Greek myths. Going into private security and moving away from her small hometown, she knew would bring her adventures. She never imagined that it would put her in the middle of the next generation of heroes. (Rating Teen.)

Tony x oc (platonic), Natasha x oc (slowburn)

Word count: 4212

Chapter warnings: cheating, child death, blood, injury

Mrs. Bethany Lancaster watched her four older children as they ran out of the house. Nora would watch the three little ones and it would give her some peace and quiet as long as the baby stayed asleep. Thirty solid minutes with no disasters was a small miracle. It gave her time to catch up on housework, which she had lacked since baby number five, Zach, arrived. She checked on the three month old before turning back to the chores at hand.  

She had the most recent pile of laundry folded and stacked the only thing left was matching the socks. That was when she heard the scream. 

“Momma!”  Beth looked up to see her 6 year old daughter, Bennett racing towards the house. Her face red and there were obvious tear tracks. Panic. That was what was in her daughter’s face. She ran to the yard meeting her half way. The girl was crying so hard that understanding her words was near impossible. “Fitzy, Fitzy. Momma...Fitzy.” Beth scooped the crying girl in her arms and headed farther into the open fields. “Nora, Leo,” she called for her two oldest children.

Bennett buried her head in her mother’s shoulder. “Fitzy.” 

Bethany’s heart raced as she ran towards the distant call returned by her 15-year-old daughter. “Momma. Help it’s Fitz.” 

The sight that met Bethany Lancaster’s eyes was one that every mother fears. A small body lay in the creek, blood soaked through his short blonde hair. His face pale and lips blue. Bethany handed the crying Bennett to Nora and knelt by the boy. “What happened?” She felt for a pulse and then listened for a breath but found neither. 

“I don’t know. We were playing in the field. Fitz wanted a turn with the kite but Leo had it. The next thing I remember we were here and Fitz was like this.” The older girl took deep breaths trying to calm herself to take care of her sister. 

Bethany began the process of CPR knowing it was no use. She sent Leo to the house to call 911. Blood slid down the creek bed as she tried to pump life back into her young son. 

“Fitzy!” Bennett cried, kicking Nora sharply in the leg so the older girl would drop her. As soon as she hit the ground the girl scrambled to her twin brother. “Fitzy, wake up,” her tears dripped to his cheeks, “Fitzy!” 

When the ambulance arrived it was too late. Bennett cried in her mother’s arms pleading for her brother to get up. Nora had returned to the house shortly after Leo and was caring for Zachary.

Bennett’s mother clung tightly to the girl. Small bloody handprints appeared on the fabric of her shirt as the girl fought to reach her brother as the coroner zipped the body bag. Fitz’s face disappearing from their view. The small girl went weak in her mother’s arms. Sobs wracked her body as she cried. Her brother’s name came out as only a whimper. Bethany Lancaster allowed her first tear then holding her daughter as her son was taken away. 

Frost coated the ground of the small park closest to Stark tower. Normally Bennett would take her bike out of town to a small nature trail nearby, today there wasn’t time. The steady pounding of her sneakers hitting the pavement was Bennett's sole focus. After a nightmare an early morning run was soothing. The cold morning air brushed against her face, turning her cheeks and nose rosy. Her breath froze in the air in front of her. 18 years had passed since that day and she still felt the loss. If she managed to outrun her memories during the light of day, they always caught back up to her in her sleep.

Back at Stark Tower again Bennett made her way to the gym. She pushed her short hair back out of her face, and made her way to the heavy bag. The bag buckled under the weight of her first few punches. The rough leather grated against her knuckles as she tried to bleed out the last of her nightmare.

For a year and a half Bennett had held a job in security at Stark Industries, as Tony Stark’s personal bodyguard. She had been with Pepper through every second of the incident in Afghanistan. She had helped Tony weather the introduction of Ironman and subsequent fall out. 

Tony was the first big job Bennett had in her field of choice. She had applied for numerous other positions at companies around the city but was passed over because she was too young or inexperienced. Today marked her 24th birthday. 

She was qualified for the job. Top of her class at the academy, marksmanship was in the top 5%, hand to hand combat top 3%, surveillance and observation top 7%. The problem came in because she didn’t look 24. She didn’t even look 20 most days. On a really good day the blonde could pass for 21 but most days about 16 or 17. Resembling a teenager was not exactly intimidating. The clothes Pepper bought, and Tony paid for, helped.  Pepper insisted though, that this was an asset. It made it easier for her to fade into the background. Unassuming and nonthreatening. So when she selected Bennett’s work attire, it was professional but always carried a young, carefree air to it. Usually in the form of colored Converse, lightly distressed jeans, or a graphic tee under her button down or jacket.  

Tabloids had been fun the first couple months after she was noticed. According to those reporters Bennett was Tony Stark's love child from his wild youth. The papers had new stories released every week. "Birth mothers" were lining up to back their stories. There were a few similarities between Bennett and Tony. Skin tone, brown eyes, although his were a darker brown than hers, and a few other overlapping "roguish features", to quote Tony. But past that nothing. The women claiming to be her mother, ranged from hispanic to Irish, from waitresses to swimsuit models. Each story was more ridiculous than the last. Simple math would disprove every one of the women, they were all too young. As would Bennett’s nearly platinum blonde hair. Seriously not one paper thought to find a blonde.

 Quick punch combos rocked the bag on it's chains. The bag caved around her heel as she sunk a kick in. The bag was inviting. Granting a release. The anger and fear. The nightmares, the memories. A release for all of it. Bennett poured them all into the bag where they would stay buried in the sand contained in the canvas. She worked the bag over and over, punch after punch, blow after blow. The combinations becoming more deadly as she worked. 

Tony entered the room watching the girl work and the bag rocked on it’s chains. He watched not wanting to interrupt her. Her fist slammed hard into the bag and he winced. She seemed to deflate holding on to the bag. Letting out an exhausted breath she whispered, "Happy birthday, Fitz"

He gave her another moment heart breaking slightly at the sight. Opening the door and shutting it again Tony approached her as if he had just gotten there. "As my bodyguard, are you not supposed to be aware of your surroundings? I mean if I can sneak in on you anyone can." He crossed the room towards her. "You gonna talk about it this time?"

"I am supposed to be aware of threats, I would hardly classify you as a threat," she walked over taking the bottle from his hand for a drink. The liquid had barely touched her tongue when she spit it out, gagging. "What on earth are you drinking?" She opened the bottle giving the substance a tentative sniff, it was thick and green.

"It's, uh, protein shake from one of those MMA magazines you get."

"Why is it green?" The blonde sniffed it again, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

“Kelp?” Tony took a moment to answer.

“Your answer to that shouldn’t be a question,” she quipped, handing the bottle back and turned to get water from the small fridge.

Tony nodded towards her hand, “you’re bleeding.”

She looked down examining the knuckles. Sure enough the skin was broken on the first two knuckles of each hand and the rest were smeared with blood. “It’s probably just a little scratch.”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “You never even let me look at the bag without wrapping my hands.”

“It’s fine, Boss. It looks worse than it is,” she shrugged it off. “Go grab your mouthpiece and meet me on the mats.” Bennett headed into the locker room to grab her mouthpiece and take care of her hands. She knew better, but the rough material of the bag had felt good. Pain always brought relief. Physical pain was manageable. 

Turning the water on she waited the few seconds it would take for it to heat. She ran her hands under the water scrubbing them clean. The water diluted the blood. Bennett squeezed her eyes shut as her nightmare rushed back. The onslaught of images making her slightly nauseous. Wiping her hands dry the skin looked new. It had knit itself back perfectly. That’s why it had escaped her notice, something small like that was less bothersome than a mosquito bite. There is no telling how many times the skin had broken for them to bleed that much. In the most extreme case so far her healing factor was effective enough to heal 12 gunshot wounds simultaneously. So a busted knuckle from the heavy bag was something she wasn’t worried about.  

 Wrapping her knuckles she returned to the gym, mouthpiece in hand. Many things are socially acceptable now.  Many things the government has legalized. They tolerated Ironman. There were rumors of Captain America being found. Talk of other survivors of genetic experiments. Negotiations for the rights of Inhumans. One thing that had not been changed, that had not been legalized, had not been repealed. The Mutant Registration Act. 

Mutation was still seen as an abomination, an affront to nature. Mutants were closely monitored if they managed not to be thrown in jail. To date only three mutants from the registration had not been incarcerated for any length of time, and only because their mutations were purely cosmetic. Horns and tails posed no real threat to humanity's safety. It would be safe to say Tony didn't know about her abilities. No one knew, not even her parents. She intended to keep it that way. She pulled on her fingerless gloves and headed back into the gym.

Ground fighting was the order of the day. After reviewing some of the pins and chokes they had worked on they began to grapple.

 Round 1: 2 minutes, submission, guillotine, Bennett. 

Round 2: 45 seconds, submission, arm bar, Bennett 

Round 3: 3 minutes, submission, Darce choke, Bennett. 

It continued for seven rounds. Some of the rounds could have been shorter but Bennett liked to play a bit. The third round for instance had taken so much time because Bennett wanted to win with the Darce choke. Other times she just drug the fight out to make Tony work harder. Tony got close a few times. After each round the blonde showed him how to lock in the choke to prevent escape. 

Training with Tony was a good warm up for the day and Bennett truly loved teaching him. He didn't really need it. He had the suit. Hand to hand combat was kinda obsolete against that. 

"Okay," he coughed, tapping the mat to signal Bennett to let go. "I'm done. Besides we have a full day." He stretched to work out the kinks in his spine from the fights. 

Bennett pulled up the schedule on her phone, the Stark tech projecting the application off the screen for her. "We have 30 minutes to clean up, eat, and get to the board meeting."

He nodded drinking from the bottle of green goo. "Thanks, kid. Next time I am going to win one." She chuckled, pulling her gloves off before heading back upstairs to change.

 The meeting seemed to drag on and on. No matter how many of these things she sat through Bennett never could find it in herself to follow along. The phone buzzed in her pocket. A new text. 

Tony: kid, watch this.

A few seconds passed and one of the board members grew noticeably irritated before he swatted the air. Upon closer inspection Bennett could see a small black object darting around the man’s head. Bennett would have simply assumed it to be a fly except for the small red light blinking from it. Almost indiscernible. 

Tony flicked his fingers across his phone and the small object darted at the man again. It was a drone. The man grew more distracted by the second. Bennett and Tony bit back their laughter. 

“Tony,” Pepper snapped, “do you have anything to contribute?”

“Uh,...no I think you covered it rather eloquently,” he tapped his screen once more before shoving the phone back in his pocket. Bennett watched the drone zip away probably to some charging dock across the building. 

“If no one has any new business I think we can adjourn,” Pepper dismissed the board members with a smile. As the last man stepped out she turned a glare toward the two. Focusing on Tony she spoke “do you think this is a game, I am trying to run a company here, your company. You could at least pretend to care.” 

 Pepper dragged Bennett and Tony upstairs. If Tony kept this up he would run the company into the ground. He needed to take his responsibilities seriously. Happy met them in the kitchen  where lunch was being served. JARVIS with the help of a bot or two had prepared a salad with grilled chicken. 

Bennett inwardly groaned kelp shakes and now salad. Tony was on a health kick, which meant it was time to stock up on junk food. 

Pepper excused herself when she received a call from one of the overseas investors during lunch leaving Tony, Bennett, and Happy alone for a moment. "Tonight's the night, right? Are you sure you wanna do this kid?" Tony leaned back in his seat trying to make his voice sound casual.

Bennett’s face lit in a smile. "I think so. Emily and I have been together for two years. Our lives fit together seamlessly. We have talked out our plans for the future together. Almost never fight." She chuckled lightly. "Everyone says that proposing is nerve wracking. But I thought it all through and planned it out. Honestly I'm not nervous at all. We fit too well together. She's gonna say yes." Bennett took the small box from her pocket examining the ring. 

Tony held out his hand and she passed the box over. Tony nodded his approval before handing the ring to Happy.

 "Not a bad choice, kid. You want me to drive you tonight. I could get the limo."

Bennett tucked the ring back in her pocket. "No I got it. Gonna take one of Tony’s cars and pick her up, take her to her favorite restaurant. That I can pass off as birthday privileges. Limo would be a bit over the top. Might tip her off." 

"Public proposal? At the restaurant? Pretty gutsy." Tony quipped. 

"No, she wouldn't want that kind of attention" Bennett shook her head, "a walk in the park after, to a spot I know she loves. I'll ask her there." Bennett could see it all in her mind from the bench by the lake to the smile on Emily’s face. Tonight was going to change everything. Tonight would be the start of a new life, a better life.

Happy's phone buzzed. "Sorry, Pepper needs me to pick up someone at the airport. If I don't make it back in time, good luck, kid." He smiled before running out the door. 

"Benn are you really sure about this? Not a doubt in your mind that Emily is the one?" Tony wore a serious expression. "You're young. Not many people find their soulmate at 24."

“I didn’t,” Bennett smirked, ”we met when I was 22."

Tony's expression grew more serious if possible."Benn. This is a big decision. I don't want to see you heartbroken if things don't work down the road. Just make sure you have thought this through. Does Emily really make you happy?"

The blonde gave his words careful consideration before replying. "I think so. I mean we've had rocky places sure. Everyone does, but I think she makes me happy."

Tony locked his gaze with hers "marriage is a lifetime thing." 

"Who are you and what have you done with Tony?" He didn't even smirk at the attempted joke. Bennett let out a deep sigh "I know it's a lifetime thing. I am prepared to sacrifice a lifetime if she needs me to.” She let the silence hang for a few seconds before allowing a smirk to slide in place, “Pepper is gone for the day and Happy is out so...Smash bros showdown." Tony didn't move immediately but the corner of his lips turned up. " Come on, Boss. It will get my mind off things."

He gave a sigh before a genuine smile spread across his features. "Alright, best of 75. If I win I get your bike for a week if you win you can use my suit."

"No safety mode?" Bennett cocked one brow in question.

"Weapons hot." He held out his hand which she in turn took shaking it. 

"Deal."

Several hours later Pepper walked into the common area to Tony's shouts of victory and Bennett’s groans of defeat. "The bike is mine for the week." He crowed. 

"Yeah, yeah," She scowled at the tv screen “you can use the Harley or the Honda this week.”

“No I get the Ducati,” he insisted.

“The original deal said you get my bike for a week not which one. You should be more specific next time, I have seven.” She smirked.  

"Well, well." They both jumped at the new voice spinning to see Pepper standing in the doorway. "I see you two got a lot done today."

"It was bonding time, really." Tony explained. 

Bennett shot a cheeky grin towards the older woman shrugging, "while the cat's away…"

"Obviously." A soft smile played on her lips even as she tried to hide it. "Bennett, don't you have to be somewhere in an hour?"

She tapped the screen on her phone, her Ducati lit up in the background as she checked the time. "Crap. Yeah thanks Pep." Jumping up from the couch the girl pressed a kiss to Pepper’s cheek before heading to the doorway. 

"Are you both coming back tonight? I have a few things saved for the occasion. Wanted to celebrate a little with you, both of you.” Tony explained.

“More than likely. But Tony: no party! If you guys want to say “hi” and stuff fine, but no extras. No party.” Bennett set the rules for Tony’s “celebration”.

"Alright. Be safe and have fun tonight" Tony wrapped her in a tight hug. "Good luck, kid."

“Thanks, boss." Pepper pulled the girl in for one more hug as she rushed to her room. 

Bennett pulled up to Emily’s apartment at 6:30 sharp. Knocking at the door she rocked back on her heels as she waited for Emily to answer, a bouquet of roses in hand. 

“Bennett!” Emily opened the door with a broad smile. She leaned forward pulling the blonde into a kiss. “Those for me?” She asked, pulling away for a second. 

“Who else would they be for?” Bennett pecked her lips again. 

She took the roses, “I’ll just put these in water right quick,” she slipped inside pushing the door closed before Benn could follow. Seconds later she came back out, “ready to go?” Her smile was bright as she took Bennett’s hand, heading to the car. 

Bennett opened her door for her, before climbing in the driver's seat. They drove and talked, laughing occasionally. The blonde couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

The night started at an art gallery. Emily led Bennett through the gallery pointing out her favorite pieces. They talked over the exhibits as they went. Emily gushed over a large metal sculpture in the middle of the museum. She rattled on talking about lines and angles to convey the artist’s meaning. Benn nodded along and agreed when she was asked what she thought. Her only real thought about the piece though was the welds were crap. 

Bennett lagged a bit behind as they came across an exhibit of statues from Greece. Athena, Artemis, and Apollo were displayed alongside sculptures of gorgons, minotaurs, and chimaeras. Emily tugged her along to finish up the last few exhibits. 

When they pulled up to the restaurant Bennett quickly hopped out of the car, rushing around the front of the car to open Emily’s door. Bennett held out a hand and Emily took it. Her hand resting in the blonde’s made Benn feel as if Emily trusted her with her whole world. It was a responsibility the young bodyguard was happy to take on. 

“This really isn’t necessary, Bennie,” she tucked her hand around Bennett’s arm, “but thank you.” 

Dinner was slightly more expensive than she had originally planned but for tonight it would be worth it. Next stop was the nature park. They walked through the park under the stars hand in hand. The little box bounced in her pocket as they neared the spot.

Bennett took in the night sky. North star was straight ahead. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. A story of jealousy. Zeus’ wife Hera was jealous of Callisto after Zeus fell in love with her. So Hera changed her into a bear. Callisto was hunted for years. Zeus and Callisto had a son named Arcas. When he grew Arcas became a great hunter, he was moments away from unknowingly killing his mother but Zeus interfered. Sending them into the sky creating the two constellations. 

“Bennie,” Emily pulled her from her thoughts. “Bennie babe, what is it about them that you find so fascinating?” She gestured towards the heavens.

“Everything. The stories, history, science…” 

Smiling Emily pulled her girlfriend around to face her. She beamed at the blonde, “you always have your head in the clouds, aren’t there more interesting things down here on the ground.” She pulled Bennett in close for a kiss, wrapping her arms around her neck deepening the kiss. 

Bennett pulled away after a moment, leading Emily further into the park. 

Bennett steeled herself.  “Em, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course. I wanted to talk to you about something too,” she followed happily. 

“You go ahead,” Bennett said, “what did you want to talk about?”

“No, no, go ahead, it can wait,” she threaded her fingers through Bennett’s. 

“Well,” they came to the spot by the edge of the lake. Taking a deep breath Bennett began her speech “Emily, we have been together for two years now. You helped me adapt to New York, out of the security of my college campus. New York is quite a bit bigger than I am used to,” a grin spread across Bennett’s face, one side slightly higher than the other. Lopsided. 

Emily placed her hand on Bennett’s cheek leveling out her smile “Yeah, your little “no where” Texas is a bit tiny. Population of what, 23?”

“That wasn’t the population, that was the size of my graduating class,” Bennett gave her an indignant look. “Give me some credit.” Emily laughed. “I couldn’t have made it this far without you, and I don’t want to spend any of my future without you by my side. So Emily, will you marry me?” Bennett pulled the ring from her pocket and waited for her answer. 

Bennett parked the car in the garage, killing the engine. She walked in the living area to see Tony, Pepper, and Happy all waiting. Champagne on ice. She let out a long sigh, there was no way to avoid them. 

Tony was grinning from ear to ear when she entered, “hey kid, how did it go?” He looked over her shoulder. “Where’s Emily?” 

The girl plastered a smile on her face. “I...not as planned.” she ran her hand through her hair, brushing her bangs behind her ear only for them to fall back in her face, too short to stay tucked. 

“What do you mean?” Pepper was concerned. 

“Turns out we...don’t want exactly the same things. Her future and mine... there’s this other girl, Madison. Emily has been with her for most of our relationship.” They were all dumb struck. She pulled the box from her pocket, setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Guess I will have to figure out the return policy for that in the morning.” She gave the others a half hearted smile. “I think I am going to bed. Good night.” Apparently Tony was right, no one finds their soulmate at 24.

AN: won’t leave many of these. First I don’t own Marvel or their characters just Benn and her story. 

Second give me any feedback or ideas you have on this story. Any critic is welcome. It is a slowburn as far as the romance aspect goes but it will get there and there is plenty of other stuff in the meantime. 

Hope you enjoyed this introduction to Bennett and my story. Ch1 should be up in a week.