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crappy-writings · 2 months ago

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Keeper of Shadows

Wanda Maximoffxfem!Reader // Series

Series Summary: An odd series of fatal attacks in Upstate New York piques your interest, especially when they seem to be related to the strange powers you received when you were 10 years old. By some stroke of luck or misfortune, the Avengers too are investigating the case, and you are their number one suspect. In a temporary alliance, you work together to discover why people are dying, unraveling a line of love, secrets, and betrayal.

*Image is not mine, credit to its creator

Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse

(Chapter) Summary: The Avengers have taken over the case of odd deaths and begin their search for the strange figure from the forest.

*chapter starts off referring to reader as they/them and then switches to she/her

Trigger Warning: Death/Murder, poorly researched NYC layout

Word Count: 2,516

A/N: Wrote the chapter, didn’t like it, rewrote it, had a breakdown. Not super stoked with it but, bon appetit, I guess. I’ll hopefully be posting a Maria Hill fic next and ch 3 is almost ready, too.

<- Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 →

KoS Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Reblogged Fics

Natasha had ended her phone call by the time Miller and his agents showed up. It was a team of six people, including Miller, guns out and at the ready, eyes alert and scanning the scene before them. Wanda and Natasha stood near the invisible creature, not wanting to lose or forget where it was, but far enough to not continue disturbing the scene before them.

“What happened? We heard shots,” Miller asked, his tone even as he approached both Avengers, his gun still out but pointed at the ground.

“The suspect is gone, they disappeared before we could even get to them,” Natasha replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Miller asked, confused. He holsters his gun as he looks behind them, noticing the hat and the disturbed ground.

“I’m pretty sure they teleported away,” Natasha added, “we’re dealing with a super-powered individual.”

“Super-powered individual. Great,” Miller commented under his breath, and Wanda did not know what to make of it.

“There’s something else,” Natasha continued, before subtly nudging Wanda. She gives Natasha a look, a mixture of alarm and confusion noticeable in her face. She figured this was a training mission of sorts, that she was sent to watch how these investigations and relations worked. She was not expecting to have to do any of the talking. Natasha, in return, gives her a side glance, subtly nodding in an encouraging manner. Wanda faces Miller, his face expectant.

“The suspect was engaged in battle with something. We’re not sure what it is, we couldn’t really see it,” Wanda inwardly cringed, but did not let it show on her face, “once the creature seemed to be defeated, the suspect disappeared, but the creature is still there.”

“Where?” Miller asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

Wanda points to the area the creature was before commenting, “it’s… invisible.”

“Invisible creatures, too,” Miller says, his voice holding a hint of disbelief, “Right, I’m getting forensics over here.” Miller stepped away for a few minutes, his communicator in hand as he reported to the rest of his team.

Wanda stole a glance at Natasha, trying to get a read on her mentor. Her expression was neutral, unbreakable and unreadable. “Not terrible, but we’ll work on it,” Natasha commented, as she felt Wanda’s gaze on her. Natasha glanced at Wanda and gave her a small smile.

Miller returns shortly, letting out a heavy sigh, “Okay, forensics will be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, I’m going to need to take some statements from the both of you.”

True to his word, the forensics team arrived within the following five minutes. They wrapped the same yellow tape from before around the affected area, encompassing all the disturbances in the dirt, the suspect’s hat and some droplets of blood neither Avenger had noticed. As they set up the second crime scene, Miller took down both Wanda’s and Natasha’s statements separately.

Wanda pointed out where the invisible creature lay, but it was no longer there by the time the agents began to investigate, much to the confusion and astonishment of both Avengers. Very little evidence of its existence was left behind, save for the residue left over on Wanda and Natasha’s fingers and some odd, paw-shaped indents left on the ground. Curiously, the indents were not visible anywhere else other than the area the fight took place.

One of the forensics agents had approached both Avengers and carefully scraped the goopy residue left over from the creature. While that occurred, Miller had called his superiors, due to the odd turn the case was taking. They informed him that due to the nature of the case, that being that there was now a superpowered individual involved, the case would be passed on to the Avengers.

Miller approached them once more, his hand resting on his hips as he stood in front of them. “Our case files and evidence are being transferred to your facilities as we speak. Everything we collected today will be in your custody once it’s processed,” he said, and Wanda noticed a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Very well, we’ll get going, then. We’ll keep in touch. Pleasure meeting with you, Special Agent Miller,” Natasha said formally, extending a hand to the man before her. He extended his own and they met with a curt handshake.

“Tony is already working on searching for our portal jumper, and Hill is waiting for us at the Compound for a debrief. Miller and his team are gonna wrap up the investigation here,” Natasha explained to Wanda as they walked away from the second investigation scene.

“Do you think they’re still close by?” Wanda asked, looking at her mentor.

“They can’t have gone too far. If anything, they’re still somewhere in New York,” Natasha said as they both continued their trek to the car.

~~~

Wanda sat at the large, polished conference table, the one that sat parallel to the Compound’s living room and across from the shared kitchen. A large glass panel divided both spaces, separating the workspace from the living space. The Avengers logo was projected onto the glass panel, working as a screen of sorts. Maria sat across from her, eyes scanning over her datapad as she read a mission report. Wanda was working on her own report, pen writing over paper diligently, noting everything of importance.

“CODIS turned up nothing, but Miller sent me the suspect’s DNA profile,” Natasha announced as she approached the conference area, her own datapad in hand. She takes a seat beside Wanda before she continues, “Says they’re analyzing the other evidence from the crime scene to see if there’s a match.”

“Good, forward it to Stark, it might help him with finding our suspect,” Maria’s eyes break away from her datapad to look up at the Black Widow.

“Working on it,” Natasha said nonchalantly as she tapped away on the screen before her, “And done.”

“Good. Now, I want the both of you to go over everything that happened one more time,” Maria said, her datapad set before her, ready to take notes.

Natasha began her part of the debrief, describing everything that happened from the moment they stepped out of her car. She mentioned the case details Miller had shared when they arrived. Wanda listened closely now, having missed his monologue.

Wanda continues where Natasha left off, explaining the distortion that only she could see, and not consistently. She recounted the fight that she sort-of witnessed, and about guiding Natasha’s shots. Additionally, she described the odd, canine-like black mass that merely flashed in her vision for less than a second. Despite this though, she did not mention the cold shivers that had run through her body whenever she made some type of contact with the superpowered suspect.

Maria had taken notes as both Avengers spoke. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and she bit the inside of her lip subtly, her eyes holding a far away look. “Something about this is familiar,” she says quietly, before she begins searching for something in her datapad.

A few minutes later, the projected Avengers logo was no longer on the glass panel, now replaced with a paused frame of a surveillance video. The image of an office space was projected, a man wearing a park ranger’s uniform stood at the center of the room, right beside a neatly organized desk. A house plant decorated the space, lying adjacent to the desk.

The camera angle showed the right side wall, three filing cabinets lined up against it. The furthest wall from the camera held a hung-up scheduling board, names Wanda did not recognize were scribbled on it. Beside it was the opened office door. The man in the center of the room stared down at a document in his hand, a filled coffee mug in the other. At the bottom of the video was a timestamp, reading 01-17-2014 14:23:07. Maria pressed play.

The man paced back and forth in the center of the room for about a minute, before leaning against the desk, still staring down at the documents. He took a sip from his mug, before he was suddenly thrown backwards by an invisible force. The man’s mug shattered as it hit the floor, its contents spilling all over the desk and ground. The man fell behind the desk, the camera angle cutting off the view from his top half. He struggled for a bit, kicking his legs upwards in attempts to push off whatever was on top of him. Then, the man’s legs fell to the ground as if by force. His body went completely rigid and a minute later, the man’s body lost all tension and eased onto the floor.

Wanda looked away, her gaze falling to her hands as she took a deep, stabilizing breath. Despite everything she has seen, it is never easy to watch a person die.

“His death was blamed on coyotes, much like how they’re blaming bears now,” Maria begins to explain, her eyes lingering on the glass screen for a few extra seconds. “It happened in Pennsylvania last year. The case reports have very little information. The investigation was still ongoing by the time S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

“That seems to check out with what we saw at the forest today,” Natasha says, leaning back in her chair.

“He couldn’t move,” Wanda noted as the footage played once more, “like if something had him completely pinned down.”

“The suspect had been pinned down by the creature,” Maria harkened back to the Avengers’ debrief.

“But they could still move, they kept trying to get away. This guy, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to,” Natasha noticed what Wanda was talking about as the video kept playing.

“We have to find the suspect soon. They’ll have answers we don’t,” Maria commented as the surveillance video faded from the screen panel, being replaced by the Avengers logo once more.

Maria went over the old S.H.I.E.L.D. file with both agents, reviewing the scarce information on it and sending them the files. With that done, the three agents began speculating who the suspect could be.

“Could it be something to do with the Chitauri?” Wanda asked, remembering the Battle of New York a few years ago.

“The Chitauri were merely soldiers, not to mention they all went down after Tony redirected the missile,” Natasha explained, “I don’t think the Chitauri have anything to do with this.”

“Maybe the suspect is Asgardian,” Maria offered as she leaned back in her chair. Natasha reached for the water pitchers in the center of the table and served water to all three agents.

“Can Asgardians open portals?” Wanda asks curiously, admittedly not knowing much of Thor or Norse Mythology.

“Heimdall comes closest, but the suspect's powers presented very differently,” Natasha answered, “Thor would know, but he’s been off-world for a while.” The Norse god had not returned to Earth since shortly after what happened in Sokovia, focused on his quest of finding out more about the infinity stones.

“Maybe HYDRA created another super powered individual, one we didn’t know about,” Maria theorized, raising her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth tipped slightly downward.

“Pietro and I were the only ones that survived the experiments in Sokovia,” Wanda replied, the memory of her brother and her home stinging painfully in her chest.

“Who’s to say the base in Sokovia was the only one running human experiments? The scepter was unaccounted for four years. There might be a paper trail we haven’t found yet,” Natasha reasoned, taking a sip of her drink.

“If that’s true, that might explain why you could see the outline of whatever they were fighting. Their powers might be linked to the scepter, too,” Maria added, thinking the suggestion could be completely plausible.

The three of them continued to discuss the suspect when they noticed Tony approaching them. “Good morning, Angels,” he says, despite it nearly being nighttime. The movie reference earned him a ‘boo’ from Maria. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. picked up something very interesting near fourteenth street.”

With a swipe from his datapad, the Avengers logo was replaced once more. This time, the panel showed them surveillance footage of a New York City street, overlooking a dirty alleyway. A green dumpster sat towards the edge of the alleyway, boxes and trash littering the ground.

A sudden flash of white emanates from the right-side of the alleyway, a figure shooting out from it and making a hard impact against the dumpster. The figure merely laid there, unmoving for several minutes, staring at something in the shadows of the alleyway. Eventually, the figure stands shakily and walks out. Their hand reached upwards before letting it fall to their side. They stared down at the ground as they walked, as if avoiding being seen.

The scene and angle changes as the figure walks away, now following the figure from another camera. This continues for a few minutes, the person simply walking through the city before the video cuts to black.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. lost track of your portal jumper shortly after, but there are a few apartment complexes in the area. We have a rough radius of where they might be hiding,” Tony explained, as his eyes went from the panel to the three agents.

“That’s them,” Wanda says with certainty as she leans forwards from her chair, recognizing the familiar white flash and the figure from the forest, “that’s our suspect.”

“Took you a few hours, Stark. You’re losing your touch,” Natasha teased, giving him a playful smirk.

“You sure about that, Romanoff?” Tony questioned, giving her a smirk back and once again swipes upwards from his datapad. The panel switched from the black screen to projecting a woman’s social media profile picture, information like her name, age, birthday and place of birth, among other data, scrolled on the right side of the screen. “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. run the footage and the DNA profile through a few programs and found Skippy here,” he raises his arms outwardly in a grandiose gesture.

Natasha raised her eyebrows at him, mildly impressed. “So, the tin man has WD-40,” Maria quipped with a smirk of her own.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were holding a comedy fest at the Compound today,” Tony jested, his head cocking slightly to the side.

“Alright, I have to go before this goes on. Keep me updated on any new developments,” Maria says as she stands from her chair.

“I’ll get started on shaving down that radius and setting up a stake-out,” Natasha announced as she also stood from her chair, reaching for her datapad as she did. “I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. continue monitoring surveillance footage for if she resurfaces,” Tony said as he began to walk away, staring down at his datapad.

Wanda continued to stare at the girl’s profile on the screen panel before it faded away, replaced once more by the Avenger’s logo. Could there really be someone else out there who went through similar experiments as her and her brother? She sighed heavily as she stood and made her way to her room.

<- Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 →

#marvel #marvel fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #keeper of shadows

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skylarstark4826 · 1 month ago

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“Tu'ux yaan???” Where is it???

Young Ch’ah Toh Almehen frantically searches through his stacks of belongings, where could it be?

His sketchbook. His seashell-shaped sketchbook!

The one Na’ made for him years ago, when he started to show interest in drawing when he was young.

His everything is in there! His sketches, new ideas and innovations, mathematical calculations of the size of the sun, names for the newborn whale calves, drawings of layout for their new market, sketches of water lilies, English that he’s planning to learn, latest training plans and formations, Na’s recipes!

Ch’ah scratches his head in frustration, he sighs and feels like giving up for a second. Watching the flow of the current leading to the outside of his room, a sudden inspiration struck him.

Could it have been washed away by the water and carried away somewhere else?

Ch’ah hurriedly went to check. Following the current, he passes by his mother and aunts. His mother, Fen looks at him with a smile and asks,

“Tu'ux a biin áalkab, yaabilaj?” Where are you rushing off to, sweetheart?

“Yaan in kaxtik in cuaderno bocetos ti', na', u sido arrastrado tumen le sáasilo'.. Séeb in suut.” I'm going to find my sketchbook, Mother, it’s been washed away by the current. I'll be back soon.

Ch’ah lingers awhile more before leaving, gazing tenderly at his mother with silvery hair, she smiles dotingly at him and he reassures her once again, smiling.

“Suut séeb”. I’ll be back soon.

And off he went, drifting with the water. The flow was swift, and soon he found himself in the place that his mother often talked about - the surface.

Young Shuri paces by the beach, looking towards the sea and back to her new-found sketchbook. Engrossed, she writes and sketches away, forgetting the world.

But she didn’t forget what she’s here for.

She’s waiting for the owner of this pretty seashell sketchbook to show up and return it.

And maybe they could be friends too.

A few days ago by the shore

Shuri ran away in jubilation after she successfully pranked T’Challa into trying her new invention.

Now, his hair was braided with super sticky vibranium-made magnet strips that stuck and sucked everything, his head now adorned with various gadgets, roaring to spank her!

Of course, she ran, as fast as she could! Wait until T’Challa calms down and she’ll go back~ Gonna seek the support of their parents, explaining that her brother got stuck with gadgets on his head because he disturbed her during her experiment!

Shuri giggled happily while sinking her feet into the moist and warm sands, she started picking some seashells along the beach, and soon, she found a seashell that stood out the most from others.

It was a seashell coloured in majority cream-white but with soft red and pink hues. It was bulky, unlike the others. She immediately puts down the other seashells she picked along the shore, examining this outstanding shell.

It was pretty… and it looked yummy.

Who left a thick vanilla-filled seashell-shaped cookie on the beach??????? But…

Little Shuri thought for a moment, looked around, and tentatively took a bite. Hard. Was it a seashell-shaped white chocolate?

She bit harder, but it remained unyielding!

…Alright, it's hard, not a cookie or chocolate, but a real seashell—

Shuri spat out the sand and then looked around, she giggled in relief. Fortunately, no one saw her foolish behaviour. It would be embarrassing if her brother witnessed it. T’Challa would call her dumb!

She cleaned off the seashell and only then discovered another mystery! Layers of vanilla filling under the sunlight!

This time, Shuri used her fingers to dig it open, and then she discovered a whole new world—

Mesmerized, she carefully flipped through the vanilla pages, it’s not just any seashell, it’s a seashell-shaped sketchbook! And with sketches, drawings and symbols filled in it, this definitely belongs to someone else…

Shuri looked from one end of the shore to the other, she didn’t bump into anyone who was looking for this precious little thing.

Watching as the sun goes down and T’Challa should’ve calmed down by now, and before the Dora Milaje came looking for her, she cradled the seashell sketchbook preciously to her tummy and ran back home. Making up her mind along the way with every little step, Shuri decided to come back tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on, until she returned the seashell sketchbook to its owner.

Back to present

Shuri enthusiastically writes and sketches in the seashell sketchbook, creating her entry on a new page starting with her name, Shuri, as the first page like the owner.

After she returned home, she scanned the symbols that she couldn't understand using T’Challa’s technology. She deciphered it and found a match in a language called Yucatec Maya. A language she never heard of.

For the past few days, she casually skimmed through most of them, respecting the owner's privacy and content. After all, it belonged to someone else.

What caught her eye the most, however, was the owner of the sketchbook attempting to calculate the size of the… sun? If she was translating correctly…

Was the owner trying to create the sun?

It seemed impractical since there's only one sun, duh~ So, taking matters into her own hands like the boss she is, Shuri drew her sketches and thoughts, sharing her calculations and all the information about the real sun. The pages were filled with her innocent, expressive and endearing handwriting, in contrast to the owner’s handwriting which was a lot steadier but still childlike too.

Shuri was sure that the owner didn’t mind and for sure will feel her through her writing. Her pages were filled with her childish handwriting, but the sincerity and warmth were palpable.

Shuri wondered if, in return, the owner of the seashell sketchbook would make a similar sketchbook for her as a token of gratitude, thanking her for keeping their sketchbook so safe?

Perhaps they would agree? She hopes so. Shuri looked at the bite marks on the seashell… and hoped the owner wouldn't… notice…

But as Shuri carefully read through her meticulously written arithmetic and ensured everything was correct, the sunset illuminated the rough, milky paper, casting a golden glow as the reflection of her orange silhouette reflected on it.

Shuri feels a slight disappointment. No one had come today either, and it was time to leave before the guards or T’Challa came to look for her. She looks towards the sea one last tim—

Shuri froze in place.

…She hadn't noticed when a soaking wet boy had quietly stood in front of her.

He stood there, captivated by her with a focused expression.

Shuri swallows nervously. Where did he come from?

A boy, almost the same height as her, with an equally slender and delicate physique, gazing at her, fixated.

Perhaps both of them thought they were hallucinating as they finally blinked at each other— Wait, no, the other person was still there…

Shuri purses her lips. Should she say hello????

"Um, hi," she shyly smiles, waving the hand that held the seashell sketchbook. Layers of light and shadow play on her contours as she moves.

Ch’ah stares at her, and the glaring hues of the sunset can't even compare to the clarity and brightness in her eyes.

A sweet, shy smile adorned her lips, accompanied by a fleeting but brief glimpse of fear, quickly overshadowed by the courage and determination she shouldn't have had at her age.

Ch’ah Toh Almehen swears he has never felt this way before.

His entire heart was swept away by the girl before him.

It’s too late.

There was no turning back.

Shuri awkwardly set down her hand, gazing down at her feet washed by the gentle waves. Why didn't he greet her? Did she stare at him rudely for too long? No?

“Mina,” his voice came like a breeze, eliciting a surprised look from Shuri as she raised her head. Although she couldn't understand what he said, but…

The boy smiles at her…

He smiled at her.

Gone was the stunned expression, replaced by a cute smile playing on his lips, his eyes sparkled with amusement. His eyebrows curved, his cute nose charmingly wrinkled, and his lips lifted with infinite satisfaction and tenderness— a gentle and proud smile. His shining brown eyes were illuminated by the blazing sunset, casting her silhouette in his eyes.

So beautifully brown...

Shuri gazes at his deep yet tender features, thinking that he would surely be breathtakingly handsome when he grew up…

As he looks at her with eyes full of curiosity, his gaze slowly shifts, and she follows it, looking at the seashell sketchbook in her hand.

Shuri joyfully tilts her head, beaming at him with a radiant smile, almost jumping. With excitement, she confidently held out the sketchbook to him, asking in a determined tone,

"Yours?"

“In tia'al,” he whispers. It's mine.

Ch’ah takes it, gently stroking his seashell sketchbook. Luckily, he found it, and it seemed like he had found… another person who would become as important to him as home and family.

Shuri nods in satisfaction, happy to return the sketchbook to its owner, and she asks something else, "Is your name perhaps…"

"Nkosazana!" Princess! Several footsteps approaching where they are.

Shuri turned to see the guards coming to find her, she stomped on her foot in frustration, turning back around to face the boy, intending to ask the boy his name—

He was gone. He left.

Great, now she was even more annoyed. Shuri pouts sadly, her face full of regret.

He didn't even say thank you!!!

In the end, Shuri obediently followed the adults back home, thinking maybe she would come back tomorrow to see if she could meet him again.

To ask if his name is…

The name is translated from the symbols on the first page of the seashell sketchbook.

ch’ah toh almehen

Ch’ah rushes back home, eager to tell Mother that he met a girl from the surface nation she always told him about.

“Na’-”

“In ajawo’.” My King.

He looks at the servants in confusion and them anxiously surrounding his home. Immediately alert, Ch’ah tensed as to what had happened when he was away briefly. He enters to greet his mother, who is sitting by the hammock, reaching out to touch his cheek when he kneels before her.

“In chan paalo’, in k'iin ku nats'a'al....” My baby, my time is approaching…

Ch’ah’s heart sinks.

No.

These days, he spent day and night by his mother's side, staying with her, keeping her company, talking to her, with endless things he wanted to tell her, expressing words he couldn't fully convey.

He told her about the girl he met on the surface, and his mother encouraged him, saying it was good and urging him to be friends with her.

He showed her the sketch of the sun from his sketchbook, assuring her that he would bring the sun to their people. She agreed, expressing her belief in his capabilities. He said he would start right away, he could make it in time… he could—

Fen reaches out to cradle his cheek, wiping away his tears tenderly.

“Ch’ah, ti' ka' kíimil, na'atik in ti' le lu'umo' k patria wáaj u k'aax t'aanil.”

“Je'el na', ba'alake' ba'ax a'alik, teech ka prometo.”

-Ch’ah, after I pass away, bury me in the soil of our homeland, alright?-

…

-Yes, Mother, anything you say, I promise you.-

He stands on the edge.

So young and hopeless.

Got demons in his head.

No ground beneath his feet.

Mother was no longer there

to hold him.

Ch’ah Toh Almehen went to the surface

to bury his mother

in the soil of her homeland,

…

and what returned was Namor.

Shuri never met the boy ever again.

20 years later

“Auntie! Look what I found on the beach! At first, I thought it was a cookie because it looked so yummy!!!! Turns out it was a real seashell! I even took a bite to be sure and it was so hard! I was so dumb! Please don’t tell Baba and Mama about this…”

The adorable babbling of her nephew wakes Shuri from her light nap, and she, somewhat annoyed, scoops him up into her arms, squeezing him as he happily squeals.

Shuri rubbed her eyes, and her nephew's cute murmurs struck her chest like a heavy blow, stirring up memories long dormant.

Seashell? Cookie? Tasty? Bite? Very hard? Silly and stupid?

Why did each sentence feel so familiar?

Wasn't there someone, a fool, who did something like this once upon a time?

Shuri finally yawned herself awake and extended her hand towards Toussaint, asking, "What's this about a delicious-looking seashell cookie but it was a fake and turns out it's a really hard seashell you tried to bite? …So, did you ruin your teeth?"

“No, Auntie! I didn’t!”

Shuri felt as her little spoiled nephew placed a light and airy seashell into her hand…

…No, that's not right. In her memories, it was weighty.

Shuri stares at it, her heart certain.

The seemingly dreamlike interaction from years ago was real.

How could the seashell sketchbook she picked up in the past suddenly reappear before her eyes?

“You found it at the beach?”

“Yep, Auntie, it was washed up to the shore… it looked pretty… so I picked it up… for you… it looks like… something… you would… love…”

The lively and active little one who was just babbling a moment ago melted in his aunt’s arms, drifting into the clouds. Was her embrace this comforting? Shuri smiled sweetly.

She carries Toussaint back to his room and settles him down, looking at his little sweet face, which reminds her of her brother.

Things have become busier lately, the Americans and France are on it again. Going after their vibranium. No fun.

Her brother and sister-in-law, T’Challa and Nakia went on a mission together, her Mother, Queen Mother Ramonda is managing the nation, and she, the Princess of Wakanda, was supposed to be in her lab, backing them up.

However, they entrusted her with the important task of taking care of the little one, so she came.

Shuri makes sure Toussaint is sound asleep before slowly closing the door. She looks forward to sharing his embarrassing little moment with T’Challa and Nakia when they return, hahahahahahahaha—

Returning to the living room, Shuri tidies up her belongings, her holographic tablet and the seashell sketchbook.

Taking a deep breath, she picks it up and flips it open to peek, revealing her childhood handwriting.

Shuri curses under her breath.

She grabs a jacket, tucks the haunting seashell into her pocket, ensuring the house's defense systems are fully activated, and then strolls away towards the beach.

The sun is setting.

This whole thing is so fishy that not even Bast would believe it.

Ch’ah thought he could make it.

…

He thought he could make it in time.

To bring the sun to his mother.

…

He couldn’t.

It was too late.

…

But Namor made it.

Many years later, as Namor flips through the perfectly preserved sketchbook with a heavy heart full of nostalgia, he discovers the naive handwriting and sketches that didn't belong to him.

Namor stares blankly at the childish handwriting and messy yet clear lines on the sketchbook, vivid and understandable. Pages were filled with various knowledge about the sun. From sentences to paragraphs, from drawings to diagrams. His fingers trace the sketches, following the lines and the innocent handwriting stirred the memories buried deep in his subconscious.

The girl.

After losing his mother, he was engulfed in endless darkness, unable to recall the brief light. Let alone reaching out to the girl again.

She was from the surface world.

But his mother, like soothing waves, gently pushed him forward, giving him eternal faith.

The girl that he briefly encountered gave him endless strength with her tireless writing and overly detailed sketches, nudging him soft yet strong to move forward.

Soon, Namor brought the sun to his people, his home, Talokan.

His fingers gently caress the page that marked the end and beginning for both him and her.

Namor’s fingers tenderly trace her name, longing to meet her again.

Shuri

The orange-red ray of the sunset envelopes Shuri, making her glow.

With great interest, she flips through the small sketchbook, now only the size of her palm. As she flipped to the last page that she had written approximately 20 years ago, behind her sketch was the next page, and she found the owner's handwriting again.

The same symbols that she didn't understand unless she had GRIOT with her were now mixed with some English words. Quickly, Shuri could understand everything he wrote, sketches and all his thoughts and creations effortlessly.

Shuri read with gusto, evidently not concerned about someone blocking her sunset light as the observer watched her with immense amusement.

Namor stares and stares as not even the lingering warmth of the sunset could compare to the radiant and pure smile shining on her face.

Shuri continued reading without lifting her head, then calmly spoke, acknowledging his presence.

“You didn’t say your thanks, nor return a gift after I’ve been helping you safe keeping that sketchbook of yours, someone would’ve…” claim as their own.

Shuri finally lifts her head while teasing the… man. She silently observes him from head to toe. Well, he sure looks ain’t entirely human to her with those elf ears and wings on his feet. He still has those unique earrings of his, his beautiful nose now pierced with a septum…

The boy from the past and the man before her overlapped.

His sculpted features made Shuri momentarily lose herself.

The same smile playing on his lips, the same eyebrows cocking smugly, the same nose charmingly wrinkled, the same, soft lips—

His gleaming brown eyes light up by the ablaze sunset, casting her silhouette in his eyes.

The same beautiful brown... Shuri gazes at his deep yet tender features… She said he would surely be breathtakingly handsome when he grew up.

Wasn't she right?

Shuri stares and stares, at some point, she sighs dreamily.

The man seemed to have witnessed some beautiful miracle happening before his eyes and exhaled the breath he knew he was holding all along, murmuring to her.

He murmurs tenderly to her as if from another time, like a dream. Unreal.

“Mina.”

His voice echoes like a breeze, a seductive serenade like that of a mermaid, a siren call. Captivating enough to startle her momentarily.

Stepping back, Shuri instinctively clutches her arm around her rumbling abdomen while skillfully tossing the little sketchbook up and down in her hand, defiantly meeting his gaze with a smile that is challenging boldly.

“Yours?”

She eyes slyly at him, but there was full of teasing mischief in his eyes too. Shuri curses under her breath again. He definitely could understand what she said, but she couldn't comprehend his words.

She stopped tossing the sketchbook, holding it out to him, done playing. As he approaches, water drips incessantly from his mouth-watering body onto the sand. Her eyes widen slightly, and Shuri stops herself from whistling.

Watching him rake back his damp hair, droplets cascade down his forehead, sliding over his deep eyes, down his prominent nose, embracing his cheekbones, reaching his parted lips, sliding along his jaw, flowing into his beard, and trailing down his chin, glistening drops by drops landing on her delicate feet.

Taking a deep breath, Shuri swallows and kindly reminds him, "If you lost it again for the third time, it might not be as lucky anymore." She watched him reach out to take his seashell sketchbook, she reached it out too, finally getting rid of it. “By the way, I still—” don’t know what you’ve said.

Namor’s outstretched hand skimmed past the sketchbook that belonged to him, grasping her wrist instead. He gently tugs her towards him, pledging an oath,

“Mine.”

…

Shuri didn't know if it was his impactful "mine" or if he had stealthily leaned in, gently kissing her, his longing sigh lingers on her lips,

turning her world upside down.

It led her, almost involuntarily, to lift her arms, entwining them around his neck, kissing him back.

Shuri, too, sighed blissfully into his mouth, feeling like she could forgive his sudden and bold kiss for now.

And thus, under the setting sun, they embraced, kissing fervently, and fell into each other's arms.

Shuri gasps and clings to him, their bodies trembling intensely as if trying to melt into each other. Gasping for breath, she tilted her head back, leaving only half a centimeter between her lips and his to only feel like she couldn't breathe without his kisses.

Soon, without needing her to tiptoe, Namor firmly presses her head while embracing her entirely, once again tilting his head, leaning and diving deeper to savour her lips delicately, inviting her tongue to tango with his.

Shuri couldn't help but moan in his mouth with abandon, his repeated gentle yet assertive kisses making her toes curl with a tingling sensation, her body pressing against his, burning up together, feeling dizzy and exhilarated.

It was as if they were about to take flight.

Namor finally gave her one last lingering and intense kiss, sucking on her tongue for the last time before pulling away. Both of them press their foreheads together, desperately catching their breaths. Shuri was devoured to the brink of tears, her cheeks flushed, cradling his face breathlessly, breathing and whimpering on his lips.

“Breathe- in yaakunaj—” my love, “—breathe, shhh…”

He, too, struggling for breath, started to softly comfort her, trailing kisses along her forehead, her eyes, and her cute nose. Patting her back, he nuzzles her face tenderly, kissing away the tears that slip down her cheeks.

Namor contentedly held her entire body in his arms, embracing his girl tightly, having infinite reassurance.

Shuri realized with a start that… she was passionately kissing a stranger!!!! Her face burns further, hot enough to cook an egg. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, frustratedly slapping his strong shoulders, attempting to calm down. But Shuri finds it challenging more than anything she encountered.

The heartbeat resonating from his bare chest to hers was like a curse, making her wildly pounding heart impossible to cease.

Namor chuckles softly in her ear, sending her heart racing even quicker while he continues to pat her back, also attempting to calm his racing heart, with little success.

“Hmph.” She's not so easily underestimated!

It was then that Shuri remembered the sketchbook she had been holding in her hand. Fortunately, the shell was hard enough! Otherwise, she might have crushed it long ago.

Finally, after catching her breath, she asks, “I still—” don’t know if I had pronounced your name right all these years. Shuri interrupts herself, thinking there’s a better way. Reluctantly leaving his embrace, the two remain standing close together.

And this man really didn't give her any breathing space!!!!! He leans in again, tirelessly rubbing his forehead against hers and giving tender kisses.

Shuri fumbles so hard to open the damn sketchbook, resisting crashing her mouth to his again.

In the end, he helped her steady her hand, and once it was stable, she finally opened it. She realized she had turned it around. Without hesitation, Shuri turns it around, flips to the first page with his name on it, thrusts the sketchbook to his stupid breathtaking face and clears her throat, pronouncing with her best accent in her life,

“Chaahtaeh Almeheiiin?”

…

Shuri swears she didn’t get it right when Chaahtaeh shakes his head in defeat, eyeing her in glee.

And he graciously pronounces it for her.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen.”

“For Bast’s sake…” Shuri swears that what she just pronounced sounded nothing like the name he pronounced.

She clears her throat loudly again, attempting to mimic him but… already forgot.

Shuri looks at him unapologetically, smiling sheepishly, and humbly asks, “Again?”

In defeat, Namor patiently repeated his name for her.

Alright, she got it!!!

“...Ch-ah Toh… Al-me-hen?”

But even when Shuri said it, it didn't sound very confident, stumbling over the pronunciation.

But when his eyes lit up, happily smiling at her with the corner of his mouth curved upwards to the sky and his ears and wings fluttering, Shuri felt more reassured with each attempt.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen?” She pronounces again, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen—” again, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen,” she’s freakin’ smooth now, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen!” Shuri feels like she’s summoning an ancient being now.

Namor chuckles as he gazes sweetly at her, his eyes filled with warmth and longing. It had been a long time since someone called him like that. Finally, he couldn't help but interrupt and tell her the truth. He reaches out to cradle her face, caressing tenderly, and telling her everything.

“I have many names. My people call me K’uk’ulkan… And my enemies call me Namor… But in yaakunaj, my love… ” Namor watched as her eyes lit up at what he had called her,

“You can call me Ch’ah.”

…

“How are three names many names???” Shuri mocks playfully, ready for a comeback. She wouldn't let someone who merely kissed her address her with such an intimate term as if they were lifelong lovers in their every single past lives.

“Shuri.”

…

…He called her name.

How did he know... Oh, Shuri remembered. She copied him back then, writing her name on the first page that she continued after his last page.

Ch’ah’s tone was helpless yet filled with an indulgent warning, making her stomach churn.

“Mina,” his voice came like a breeze.

But the way Ch’ah pronounces her name, so affectionate and familiar, almost as if he had called her name tens of thousands of times, a million times— no, approximately 1018 times with those lips of his—

Ch’ah’s voice came again. Calling her home like a gentle breeze.

“Mine.” You’re mine.

And Shuri knew at that moment…

It’s too late.

There was no turning back.

The rest was history.

Namor confronted T’Challa, King of Wakanda about how the American military detected vibranium under his nation’s domain. They needed Wakanda’s help to prevent it from happening again.

“You have exposed the power of vibranium to the world. Your choice has compromised us. They are coming for us. It is only fair that Wakanda helps to resolve our dilemma.”

“We need to find a peaceful way to resolve this.” Shuri knew things were not needed to go this far. It will be a war.

But Namor needed them to know, “I need to know if Wakanda is an ally or an enemy. There is no in-between. If we make an alliance, we can protect each other by striking them first.”

With a stern look, T’Challa asked, “And if Wakanda does not accept, what then?”

“The scientist will die and Wakanda will be the first nation to fall. And I want you to know, Wakanda cannot win a war with Talokan.”

T’Challa and Shuri looked at each other, knowing each other's answers.

Shuri looked back to Namor, standing tall, “With the Black Panther—”

“We’d love to see you try.” T’Challa’s unwavering gaze and resolute voice echo.

Namor looked at him, at Shuri, and smiled.

A few years later

Namor’s palm gently pats her back in a soothing force, luring his beloved wife to sleep…

“BABAAAAAA—!!! RAYRAY ATE MY BOOKIE!!!!”

Before that little angel in disguise of theirs comes squeaking at the top of her lungs, demanding her parent’s attention immediately.

“Bast…” Shuri grunts and hides her face in her husband’s chest, curling into a ball on his lap, shutting everything off, letting Namor face the little “devil” alone.

Namor helplessly smiles and makes a shushing finger at their 3-year-old daughter, “Shhhh, in chan paalo’, Mama is sleeping…”

“No, she’s not! Mama is peeking!!” Their daughter, Siphosihle, Princess of Talokan, heartlessly exposes her mother, leaving Shuri no choice but to chuckle helplessly in Namor’s arms.

“Sihle, Mama told you not to casually expose others' shortcomings, haven't I?” Shuri grins as she looks at their daughter, feeling his chest trembling with suppressed laughter.

“But Mama, Rayray ate my bookie!!!” Sihle skips over to them in a few bounces, hugging her Baba’s leg.

“Your bookie or cookie?” Her Baba asks.

“Ah! My kookie!” Namor knew it. “But my bookie is gone too!” Poor Rayray, Sihle’s pet stingray taking the blame for the fourth time this week.

“Now I only have one kookie left, not enough to share!" Sihle pulled out her cookie which was slightly bigger than the size of her little palm from her pocket, a seashell-shaped one – a real cookie he made for their daughter. The cookie already had a bite taken, Namor and Shuri weren't sure how she planned to share…

“All right,” Namor takes Sihle’s cookie, brings it to Shuri’s mouth, and she knowingly bit off half, savouring the sweet vanilla and soft white chocolate cookie, it was so sweet that it could potentially lead to cavities.

Namor then eats the remaining half of the cookie in a big bite. Her cookie was gone in a second. Brushing off his hands with cookie crumbs, Namor turns to their gaping daughter, shrugging.

“Now you have nothing to share.”

The King and Queen of Talokan eyes each other slyly, smitten, and as expected, their daughter burst into loud wails, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!!!!” The entire cenote shook with her loud cries.

“You just had to tease her until she cried?” Shuri playfully slaps him in the face, amused by their daughter's dramatic crying.

“Who told her to wake you up?” Namor indulgently responds, then lovingly squeezes his crying baby girl’s cheek. "Okay, Baba was just joking with you, chan ch'úupalo…” baby girl.

“MY KOOKIEEEEYYYYYYYIWUUUUUWAAAAAAAA—”

Namor and Shuri embraced tightly, laughing hysterically together, disregarding everything. Seeing their carefree and unbothered demeanor, Sihle, who had been crying hysterically just moments ago, stopped crying and buried into her parent’s embrace, joining their laughter while wiping her tears.

“It's okay, Sihle, we were just teasing you.” Namor grins, pulling out a brand new seashell-shaped cookie from behind. He gallantly offers it to his baby girl, receiving a sweet sniffling "Tha-nk yo-u, Ba~ba~~!” from his precious daughter.

Namor carefully lifts his wife, 8-months pregnant Shuri and Sihle, placing them on their bed with numerous layers of soft cushions. He kisses his daughter's moist eyes and brows, amused yet tender.

“Don't cry, usana. Mama and Baba were just teasing you," Shuri comforts her daughter with difficulty as she tries to hold her close with her huge belly. Meanwhile, the daughter had already moved on, happily nibbling on her cookie. She then extended it towards her mother, offering a bite.

"Mama~ not only Mama likes to eat, will little brother like it too? I'll share with him when he comes out, if he plays with me… of course…"

Shuri chuckles sweetly, looking at Sihle and back to Namor, who gazed back affectionately at his princesses.

…

Namor never gets to wage the war that he always wanted to wage at the surface world.

Not when Wakanda is standing in his way. He hates to see a certain princess suffer while watching the lives of her people lost.

But war came to them instead.

T’Challa and Namor made sure that they regretted their actions, and together, as allies, they protected each other’s nations and fought for what was behind them, their home and loved ones. They fight for what they love.

When everything slowly settled down, Namor asked for a hand in marriage from the Princess of Wakanda, out of alliance.

Shuri said yes, out of love.

They indulge freely in a cozy two years of married life, just the two of them, until Shuri suddenly wants to have a child like him. It was Namor who first heard the tiny heartbeat in her belly as they crushed each other, and moved to tears.

During her pregnancy, he transformed into an obstetrician, chef, psychologist, masseur, photographer, and father who would undoubtedly spoil their child.

In the third year of their marriage, they welcomed their little princess. They raised their daughter together. And now, the little princess is three years old, and they are about to meet their little prince soon.

…

“I’m sorry to break it to you, nkosazana, but you gotta wait for your little brother to grow up a bit before he can play with you~” Shuri tells her with amusement.

“Oh, that’s good, then I can have all the kookies to myself!” How clever is their baby~

“But Mama, I lost my bookie… The one Baba made for me…” Sihle sheepishly and sadly tells Shuri, on the verge of wailing.

“Where did you last have it?” Namor knowingly asks. Sihle eyes him cheekily, “By the pool…”

“I dropped it into the pool…” Sihle grins.

“You dropped it into the pool?” Namor sighs. Facing her, he amused, “So what are you waiting for? Go get it.”

“But I don't want to get wet... but I want to draw…” Pouting and cooing, Sihle said, much like her mother.

“Come on, baby, use mine,” Shuri reached for her sketchbook and Sihle happily took it and started drawing along with her mother.

It was his, and hers too.

“Go ahead, Baba, we are waiting for you~” Shuri calls him dotingly, and Namor makes sure they are sitting properly before he goes out to retrieve their daughter's sketchbook for the umpteenth time that month, he sighs in loving defeat.

Namor paces to the pool, picking up toys along the way, picking up and setting the neatly cooked plate of cookies aside. Upon reaching the pool, he circles it, quickly finding Sihle’s seashell sketchbook. As he was about to pick it up, Rayray swiftly brought the sketchbook to him. He kneels to pet it, “Thanks, Sting, you've been a great help.” And Rayray swooshes away in happiness.

Soon, he returned with Sihle’s sketchbook and a pouch of small seashell cookies made for her. Seeing the mother and daughter still immersed in their drawing, Namor’s heart melts miserably. He places her mini sketchbook in her tiny hands and sits behind Shuri and Sihle, watching the two of them draw.

Sihle draws in the seashell sketchbook he made for her. Her bookie was a milky-white color, adorned with little stars of purple and green, the seashell had soft golden hues on it.

And what Shuri drew in was still in that cream-white seashell sketchbook with soft red and pink hues — theirs.

“This is a dolphin, Mama~”

“Dolphin~” Shuri hypes her up, even though said dolphin has three heads and six eyes.

“Look, Mama, shark!”

“Yep, that’s a great white shark indeed!” Shuri secretly smiles at the shark with a mouth of smiling teeth, how adorable.

“Mama, this is me and you!”

Shuri draws every version of the dolphin and shark Sihle mentions, perfecting her daughter’s sketch, from shaky circles and cross lines to a cool three-headed and six-eyed dolphin and a shark with smiling teeth and love eyes, but her baby’s next sketch was her favourite. Shuri looks at the drawing that was thrust to her face, “Me and you, Mama!” It was whales.

A Mama whale and her baby whale calf. Just like her and Sihle. Shuri swears that although their daughter was a handful of chaos sometimes, she was her namesake - a beautiful gift.

After witnessing the beautiful moment between mother and daughter, he didn’t want to be left out too! “Here you go, chan ch'úupalo~” Namor waves the pouch of cookies in front of her eyes and immediately, like a little kitten, Sihle lunges for it, he dodges and dodges until he lures the baby kitty to crawl onto him.

“Baba~ My kookies!!! Gimme!!!” Sihle climbs and climbs until she hangs on Namor’s face, “Mama, help! Baba is not giving me my kookies!!!” Making Shuri laugh in amazement again.

“What do you say, baby girl?” Shuri presses on her kimoyo beads and starts recording these two goofy father and daughter.

“Thank you, Baba! I love you!” Although with Sihle’s little butt blocking him, Shuri knows how smug and doting Namor is smiling there.

“Not enough~”

Sihle tried everything to get her kookies. “Baba, I’m your princess!!!”

“Yes, you are, Sihle. But your Mama is my princess, you are just my… little princess. ”

“Okay! Mama is your princess and I’m your little princess!!”

“Now we are talking~” Namor smiles in defeat, reaching out to lift the Sihle away from his face, skillfully switching to place her behind his neck and let her sit on his shoulders. The daughter immediately embraces Baba's head, her tiny ankles swaying and tickling against his facial hair, making adorable giggles.

Finally, Namor hands her the pouch of seashell cookies, and Sihle sits on his shoulders, enjoying the treats. The first piece was given to her Mama, Shuri, and then she alternated between eating and feeding her Mama, completely forgetting about her Baba.

“Hey, what about me?????” Namor protests! How dare she!

“Uh-oh! I forgot, Baba!” Sihle playfully passes a cookie in front of him with her short arms, one hitting at his forehead, one tossing at his eyes and thank Chaac Namor closes his eyes in time, another stuff in his nose, and finally, one successfully reaches his mouth.

“Look at your daughter, Shuri…” Namor complains to his wife.

“I didn’t see anything, Namor, I'm too focused on recording,” Shuri said with a proud smile, winking at her daughter and she winked back cheekily.

“I saw that, you know?” But his two girls openly ignored him, eating enthusiastically without him. Namor pouts sadly until Shuri can’t take it anymore and she feeds him with lots and lots of cookies, “Here you go~” The crunchy sound of cookies fills their cenote for quite a while.

“You want to go sink some ships, yaabilaj?” Namor teases. Sihle immediately wiggles behind him, kicking excitedly, “Let’s go sink some ships, Baba!!”

“Don’t give her ideas, Ch’ah!” Shuri facepalms, the father and daughter would venture out to the ocean and flip over ships that are mining underwater resources.

“Uh-oh, sorry, chan ch'úupalo, no sinking ships for today~” Namor informs and the little girl just pouts sadly, just like her father, but Shuri knows how to cheer her up easily.

“Didn’t you say you want to share your cookies? Now you have a whole pouch of it.” Instantly, Sihle’s brown eyes lit up, her dark curls bounced in joy, wiggling to get off her Baba’s shoulder, “Yes, Mama! I’m going to find Zuri and Nala!” Toussaint’s little brother and sister.

“Off you go~” Watching as Sihle tiptoes and plants a kiss on her Baba’s cheek, she does the same to her Mama too. Then, she looks for the big-sized seashell cookie that she ate halfway earlier, picks it up and takes a bite without hesitation.

Shuri and Namor burst into mad laughter. Sihle had picked the wrong one, it was their sketchbook.

“You didn’t tell me, Mama!!!” Sihle protested with little arms crossing, stomping at the soft quilts.

“I wonder who she got that from?” Namor teases her hard. He had noticed the bite marks on his seashell sketchbook long ago.

“Mama didn’t know which one either!!” Shuri quickly shifts the blame, “It's all your Baba’s fault, he distracted us, blame him!”

“No, don’t blame my Baba, Baba made me my sketchbook and kookies! Baba, next time remember to tell me not to bite first, remember to look first, okay!”

The way Sihle defended him just made Namor melt into a puddle of happy water. “I got it, sweetheart, Baba will remember,” he promises.

"But you won’t remember,” Sihle deadpans, learning from her parents, “All your eyes are on Mama, Baba, you forgot about me," she mutters nonchalantly, obviously jealous.

Shuri and Namor often thought their daughter was too clever for her age, a real little mischief-maker.

“That’s because I have all my eyes on you, Sihle, Mama got you covered!” Shuri reacts quickly, kissing her little cheeks.

Bast, whenever Sihle got jealous, she was totally a mini super jealous Namor throwing a tantrum!

“But Mama has all eyes on Baba too…” Sihle squints her beautiful little brown eyes, seeing through everything.

Namor beams sweetly at the accusation, then with utmost patience, he coaxes their little jealous daughter with ease.

“That’s because me and your Mama have all eyes on you together! You got four eyes when we only had two! And when Baba and Mama have all eyes on each other, you can sneak out to play with your cousins and forget to come back home for dinner, right?”

Happy to hear her Baba’s explanation, Sihle immediately grins in mischief, nodding honestly, “Right, Baba is so clever like me, hehe, I’m going to play with Nala and Zuri, bye, Mama, bye, Baba~~~” She runs away then runs back, leaving a kiss on Mama and Baba’s cheeks and also on Shuri’s baby bump, can’t miss out her little brother! And she quickly zooms away before her parents can say anything more. Sneaky little baby as Shuri watches her dash to the pool, beckoning for a ride.

“I thought you don’t want to get wet—!!” Namor tries to call for his daughter but Sihle has jumped into the water, swimming away on Rayray’s back to go look for her cousins to play with. Leaving them with splashes like a whirlwind.

“...Last week, she made Zuri and Nala cry because she scared them with lobsters… Toussaint was so helpless to stop her.” Shuri smiles and cradles her belly, feeling their son’s kicking incessantly all the time, they predicted he was going to be as handful as Sihle.

“Why am I not surprised, hmm? Maybe because I was the one who spoiled her too much, yep~” Namor caresses her belly, soothing the baby’s kicking, they both knew Sihle would be a great sister, well, they hoped. “I hope she doesn’t… bully her brother like how often she makes Zuri and Nala cry with her antics…”

“And yet they loved following behind their sisi, T’Challa and Nakia had to drag them away as well before they followed Sihle and came home to us, remember that one time they did follow Sihle and everyone freaked out? Hilarious!” Shuri reminisced when they finally found them, all full and dozing off.

“I remember. We even found them in a pile of snacks, Rayray was guarding beside them like he was worried they were too full.” Namor remembers cradling all three babies back to the surface, he almost broke his arms.

“Now I’m more worried when this little Ch’ah is born, little Shuri is gonna bring him and turn Talokan upside down.” Shuri was certain, when her daughter grew up to be more and more like her, she knew they were screwed, except Namor dotes on her even more badly because of that, because he said, “Were you like this when you were young? I love watching her making trouble, it reminds me of you. The day I met you.”

“I’m glad Ixchel blessed us, I was always afraid she might be a bit lonely,” like I was. Namor didn’t say it out loud, but Shuri understood everything, “Two is better than one, right~”

“Well, if you have come looking for me sooner, I’m sure we will have more kids by now.” Shuri caresses the seashell sketchbook that tied them together since the day she picked it up on the shore.

But Namor slips into deep thoughts, murmuring distantly…

“...When my mother… died… it feels like I lost everything. I could not bear to look at anything, every corner has her traces, I could no longer look at—” Namor strokes the back of her hand, Shuri holding his seashell sketchbook. “...I have witnessed so many births of my people, aging, illness and death, it was a circle of life… Yet I cannot see through it… nor find solace… in the waves that cradled me like my mother once did…”

He could not find peace.

Not after what he had witnessed on the surface world. His mother loved and mourned the life on land that she once knew…

But it was nothing like what she had told him.

…How heartbroken and disappointed she must be… if she saw it with her own eyes.

Listening to his gentle whispers, endless tears welled up in Shuri’s eyes, unable to suppress the overwhelming sorrow, grief and heartache she felt for Namor. Shuri dared not imagine how. How when she was disappointed that the boy on the beach never showed up again…

He was torn apart in the abyss of the sea, screaming heart-wrenching cries.

“It took me years… to come back to you, Shuri.” Namor gently brushes away her tears with his thumb, kissing away the sadness in her beautiful brown eyes, the taste of her tears breaking his heart.

“I’m sorry… it took me so long… to come back to you…”

Shuri holds him tightly, enduring each drop of his tears falling on her cheeks, she promises him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I got lost in the grief of losing Na’... and I forgot about you…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Namor.”

“—I told her about you… and Na’ told me to come be friends with you... She was still fine moments ago… She was—”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ch’ah, I’m not going anywhere without you from now on.” Shuri places the seashell sketchbook in Namor’s palm, then surrounds his trembling hands with hers— the same hands that always tenderly caressed her baby bump. Despite the difficulty, Shuri gently bowed her head, placing devout kisses on the back of his hands, on his knuckles, on his fingers, all of him. She helped him grasp the seashell tightly in his palm so that…

The love his mother left for him would never be lostagain.

Namor gazes at his beloved as Shuri plants one kiss after another on his hands, and in that moment, the shattered pieces of his heart and the endless grief and loss in him all these years have finally found a home.

He belonged with her. Namor knew it long ago.

He tilts Shuri’s chin up gently, trembling lips meeting her quivering ones.

When they had tasted every tear of sorrow, only tears of solace remained.

Namor kisses his way up, finally landing a firm kiss on her forehead— with infinite tenderness comes infinitely devotion, belonging and love.

They held each other tightly, thankful that their daughter had gone out to play; otherwise, Sihle would have been scared to death.

“Our reunion was no coincidence…” Shuri didn’t know that a fishy seashell would change her life one day.

“It was my courage to come for you.” And Namor would tell her this, over and over again.

“...In the depths of the ocean, I brought the sun to my people…” Shuri listens to his gradually steady heartbeat as Namor murmurs, she smiles when he kisses her again and utters softly on her lips, “My sun.” And kissing her baby bump, “My two little stars. My sun and stars.”

“Sihle is more like a meteorite than a shooting star.” Shuri couldn’t help but jest oh so smoothly.

Namor couldn’t agree more. “She’s an unstoppable little ball of fire that no matter how big the waves are, they can't extinguish her.”

The proud and beaming expression on Namor’s face when talking about their daughter is one of Shuri’s favourite sights.

“Soon enough she’s going to ask us to make a ship with a big shark smile that can dive, fly, and blow bubbles for her…” Shuri thinks Sihle got that creativity from her.

“She told you that? She knows we make anything for her, doesn't she?” Namor amuses, chuckling while shaking his head in defeat.

“Yep, she did. Saying she’s gonna fly it with Toussaint, Zuri and Nala to scare away some fishy people.” Shuri can imagine that already. It’s gonna be so fun.

“That’s my girl.” Namor chuckles proudly, lowering his head to caress the seashell sketchbook in his hands, feeling its texture and weight. It’s still as heavy as he remembered. He places the precious sketchbook into Shuri’s hands, bringing her wrist that tied with his mother’s bracelet to his lips, kissing it gently, reminiscing with a gaze full of longing,

“My mother made it for me… That’s why I was looking for it… That’s how I met you.” Namor knows that his mother, Fen would be happy for him for the life he has now. With loved ones.

Shuri beams in understanding, “And you made one for Sihle.”

“We made one for Sihle.” We. How beautiful it sounds.

Shuri cradles the seashell with care. His mother’s memories will live on, and on, and on. In them. In their children. “Think you better catch up and make a new one before this little one grows up too fast and has that same artistic sense just like his Baba, Mama and Sisi.”

Namor pulls her into his embrace, letting Shuri lean all her weight on him, safe and sound. “I was thinking about blue… and white.” The sky. The ocean.

“Blue and white sounds just perfect to me.” Shuri tosses the seashell sketchbook in her hand, remembering the day she met him has a very blue sky and she…

Leaning against him, Shuri comfortably nestles in the curve of Namor’s arm. With just a slight lift of her head, she could easily steal a few kisses.

She reaches out her hand, holding the seashell sketchbook up to him, and asks triumphantly,

“Yours?”

Namor chuckles affectionately,

“Yours.”

Hooking her arms around his neck, Shuri kisses the corner of his mouth, brimming with mischief and love, she whispers with adoration, “Say it again.”

He tilts his head to meet her, sharing a smug smile as he tightens his grip, ensuring she stays forever in his arms. As he tenderly gave Shuri the kiss she had longed for. With devotion, Namor whispers,

“Yours.” I’m yours. Forever.

The End.

💜🐍🐈⬛💚 Little bonus 🪽🐚🌊❤️

“Run, in bebés, run to your Mama for me~” Namor nudges them to be his ever-loyal messengers as he watches his babies dash across the beach, running to their mother on the other side.

6-year-old Sihle holding hands with her 3-year-old little brother, Sitha, running in full speed towards their Mama, Shuri, who was waiting for them by sitting on the beach, grinning as she watched them zooming to her.

She catches them both fully, kissing her beautiful girl. And her baby boy, like his namesake, light. He had brought more light into their little family, just like his sister.

“Mama! Baba said you must write back to him!” Sitha squeaks at her with excitement, waving the seashell sketchbook with soft red and pink hues.

“Quick, Mama! Baba is waiting!” Sihle urges her, dancing with her brother.

Shuri laughed and flipped open the sketchbook, flipping to the latest page, she saw he had written:

🐚 Are you still angry at me?🐚

She huffs and writes her reply, then gives it back to her babies, “Mama’s done, run along now~” Sihle and Sitha sprint back to their father by the water, his eyes lit up when he sees them running back to him. Sihle tosses the seashell to him, almost hitting his face.

“Ouch-” But Namor couldn’t care less and eagerly flips to the latest page, checking for her reply as Shuri had written:

🐚 YES🐚

Namor giggles as the children jump into his embrace, all three of them babbling non-stop.

“Baba! What did you do to make Mama angry!” Sihle amuses.

“Baba! Mama waiting! Quick!” Sitha was eager to run back to his Mama already, it was a fun race!

“I forgot to give her a morning kiss when I was busy snuggling with you two! Now Mama’s angry.” Namor shamelessly shifts the blame to their babies.

“Easy! Baba! Easy! Give Mama a kiss!” Sitha doesn't get why that is a problem in the first place!

“Times up, Baba! Are you done yet???” Sihle takes the seashell from her Baba’s hand and rushes away with Sitha again, with Namor yelling at the back, “No peeking!”

They both go, “Okayyyyy—!” Bolting towards their Mama.

Shuri mumbles when it’s taking forever as she squints her eyes at the other side, watching as the trio have small talks without her, hmph! In truth, they were only a few hundred meters away from her. She didn’t need to eavesdrop because of how loud they were babbling.

Soon, the children rush into her arms and Shuri takes the sketchbook, precisely flipping it open to read the words written beneath hers:

🐚 As an apology, please sit on my face tonight🐚

Shuri cocks her eyebrows towards him in the distance, watching as Namor flashes his most proud, delighted and smug smile she had ever seen, making her blush and wet and heart racing at the same time.

Shuri secretly flutters hard, thinking it was about time for the third baby they both wanted for some time now.

Suppressing her cheeky smile, Shuri quickly writes her response and hands it to the children, saying, “Thank you, my Sihle and Sitha,” and kisses each of their little faces. They gasp in disbelief,

“Mama, why are you so quick?” Sihle figures Baba is a slowpoke!

“Mama~ have you forgiven Baba~?” Sitha asks cleverly on Baba’s behalf.

“Not yet,” Their Mama said with a proud smile. Then Shuri watched as the children ran off quickly, heading to their Baba.

Namor flips with precise, gazing upon and grins:

🐚Very tempting offer BUT not enough🐚

And so, the two babies acted as messengers, running back and forth across the beach. A few more rounds later, they had had enough!!!!!

“Baba, Sitha is tired! Are you done yet?!” His baby boy stomps in frustration, protesting already.

“Not yet,” Namor writes with relish, clearly enjoying more than anything.

“Baba! You are flirting with Mama! We don’t want to help you anymore!” The clever princess she is, Sihle counters with brains.

But their Baba is a clever ass too, “How about having lobster for dinner tonight?”

“Okay!!” The two children eagerly agreed to continue their mission! It’s their favourite food!

"Where did you learn the word 'flirting' anyway???" Namor scratches Sihle's little chin, amused.

"Uncle T'Challa taught me! He says this is what you and Mama are always doing! Are you there yet, Baba?!" Sihle reaches out to cling onto his back, dangling.

“Almost there, Baba is about to coax your Mama, thank you for waiting so patiently, zithandwa zam ezincinci.” My little loves. It took Namor a few more moments to come up with a sassy reply.

In the end, the two children came up with their own plan.

The two small heads with dark curly hair shimmer beautifully under the sun. The little girl with two buns and the little boy with a little braid moves in sync. They were kissed gently by the sun, a perfect blend of their parents.

The older sister guided the little brother, and soon they had their plan ready, each heading towards one of their parents.

“Baba, Mama says she doesn't want to send messages to you anymore. She wants you to come see her in person!” Namor had long figured out what the two small figures were up to on the beach since he’d been watching all along. He picks up his daughter, following her plan.

“Got it, little princess, let's go find your Mama and brother~”

On the other hand, “Hug, hug, Mama! Mama! Hug! Hug!” Sitha raises his little arms at her, cooing adorably. Shuri sets aside the sketchbook, lifting her precious little one. “Tired, aren’t you? Come, let Mama hug you,” She affectionately kisses her little prince and Sitha beams with joy, looking just like his father.

“Mama, Baba says he doesn't want to send messages to you anymore! He wants you to come see him in person! Come on, let’s go!” Sitha snuggles into her. Shuri raises an eyebrow, hugging him up more securely, “Alright, let's go then~”

Slowly, Sitha leads his Mama, pointing to the seashells along the beach. “Mama, look! I found seashells for you!” Shuri bends down to pick up the shells, then hands them to her baby boy, “This looks nice, isn’t it?”

“There are so many more, Mama! Let's bring them all home, can we?” Sitha pleads with his Mama. “Sure, Mama is following your lead!” In this way, the mother and son followed the seashell-lined path, picking up shells and admiring them together.

Not long after, the two souls destined to cross met in the middle.

“Quick, Baba, Mama is here!”

“Hurry, Mama, Baba is here!”

Namor and Shuri looked at each other and smiled with pride. Their daughter and son had put “so much” effort into their little plan. They each hold their children and walk towards each other.

“I heard you were looking for me,” Namor preempts.

Shuri beams at him, proud of their laughing daughter and adorable son. Then, she gazes at Namor, with infinite infatuation, and says,

“Yes, I've been looking for you for 20 years.”

Namor’s face softens instantly. He reaches out, pulling Shuri and Sitha, squeezing them in his and Sihle’s warm embrace.

The royal family of four held each other tightly under the glow of the setting sun, their faces adorned with smiles full of happiness.

In that tranquil moment, bathing in the warm glow of the setting sun, their laughter echoes as they stand in unity. As the waves whisper tales of years gone by, Namor and Shuri have shared an unforgettable reunion that mends the lost threads of time.

Their children, Sihle and Sitha, the living proof of their love story, play at their feet, weaving joy and innocence into the story of their shared journey. With hands entwining, hearts connecting, and smiles that speak volumes, Namor and Shuri embrace the love they have built together over the years.

By the shore, the beginning of a chapter was lost, but a new chapter begins and continues its legacy. The family of four walks into the horizon, leaving their big and small footprints in the moist, soft sands and the moment they cherished now etched in their hearts.

“Mama! Baba said we are eating lobsters today!” Sihle squeals in joy.

“Hungry, Mama! Me and Sisi are hungry already, Baba!” Sitha shakes Namor’s head playfully, making him laugh.

“I’m hungry too,” Shuri chimes in.

“Alright, let’s go home for dinner then.” Namor tugs her forward, heading home as the babies lead the way.

Shuri leans in and secretly whispers in his ears, “I’m still angry at you, you know?”

Namor smirks, stealing a kiss from her lips, “You're even more breathtaking when you're mad, Shuri. It's like anger enhances your beauty. I might be onto something here…”

“Don't think you can get away with flattery,” Shuri shakes her head in triumph.

But Namor has all the tricks up his sleeve, “Then I must confess, my love, I am defenseless against your “still angry” face. How about a peace treaty sealed with a kiss?”

“I think this could work~” Shuri tiptoes and claims his surrender, sealing a treaty as Namor smiles into their kiss, swaying her like the tender waves as always.

Love had conquered time, and in the gentle embrace of the evening breeze, they discovered that some reunions were written in the stars.

And so, as the Wakanda sun dips below the horizon, they swim back to their underwater home, Talokan, as myriads of household lights up in the darkness, no longer untouched by the sun— their family sprouts and grows with love that transcends the sands of time, forever theirs.

#nashuri #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #namor and shuri #namor of talokan #shuri of wakanda #king namor #princess shuri #nashuri fanart #namor x shuri fanart #black panther #black panter wakanda forever #namor mcu #namuri

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scrollsfromarebornrealm · 1 year ago

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shadowbringers: off on the wrong foot

The Crystal Tower rose high into the Lakeland sky, the light of the near-eternal sun glinting off it. Yet somehow it seemed out of place to Augustine's eyes. But considering he and the others had only just recently arrived from the Source, perhaps it was the fact that he was more used to how the Tower looked against the Mor Dhona sky.

But to be quite honest...there was something else on his mind. And Augustine was pretty sure Reinhardt was of the same thought as well.

"So we're in agreement that the Crystal Exarch is a shady son-of-a-bitch?" He asked.

"Yeep." Reinhardt agreed. "And you can't see it, but Paien's violently nodding in agreement." Augustine exhaled, his eyes flicking over the massive Dossal Gate.

"Riven should have gotten us sooner." He said. "I don't like the fact that she was alone--and that she and the twins were suffering. They shouldn't have had to face those horrors alone."

"Can't be helped." Reinhardt was surveying the Gate and Tower with a critical eye, searching for any possible perches or footholds. "And with how time apparently passes in this world, the twins were dealing with what's been happening long before Riven showed. But I don't like the idea of it either." He crossed his arms.

"Just be grateful that Riven could come and get us. I wouldn't have put it past the Exarch to have blocked her way back to the Source somehow." Halone, it was strange to think of their home as such--an origin point--and other worlds that lurked just beyond it, Reinhardt thought. Stories were one thing. The reality...?

<Explaining this to Brucemont is going to be difficult.> Paien added. Reinhardt offered a feeling of agreement, glancing at Augustine.

"Where's Mathye and Sebastian?"

"Mathye is giving Riven a checkup, and Sebastian said he wanted to do his own exploring. I thought his eyes were going to explode out of his skull when he saw all the equipment that the citizens here use every day." It had taken everything in Augustine's own power not to gawp as well. He wasn't as Allagan-savvy as Riven or Sebastian, but he'd spotted some rather interesting bits of machinery at the weaponsmith. Personal exploring would come later after he and the others had gotten the general layout of their seemingly new base of operations.

"Did you notice that our rooms aren't near hers?"

"Uh-huh. I think Mathye said he was going to fix that." Reinhardt considered voicing the idea of being in the vicinity when that happened, and then decided not to. The medic's strong-arming might give interesting results. And they needed to see how the Crystal Exarch would react in a given situation.

"So any ideas on a plan just yet?" He asked.

"Aside from sticking to Riven like glue and opposing any plan that might involve us being separated? Not really." Augustine admitted. "Because I wouldn't put it past him to try and do so." Reinhardt felt Paien shift in the back of his mind.

<There is a even bigger question that needs to be addressed.> The dragon began, 'broadcasting' himself so that Augustine could hear him too.

"Damn good question if you ask me." Reinhardt muttered.

"Not only that, why lie about the spell?" Augustine added. "Because he was lying." His truthsense-granted to him by the Echo, had been active during the entire--abit rather stilted--conversation that had happened when they had arrived in the Ocular. Silence fell over the duo for several moments.

<He was nervous. And anxious.> Paien added. <You could smell it off him.>

"Did he truly think Riven wasn't going to at least contact us?" Reinhardt wondered aloud.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Came the answer. The air around the pair began to cool as the sun started to set, and Augustine sighed.

"Come on. Let's meet up with the others."

#ffxiv #augustine bishop #reinhardt sauveterre #ffxiv shadowbringers #crystal exarch #shadowbringers #things really did not start off well #the guys were suspicious from the get-go #and it only got worse

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itsalltoobeautiful · 1 year ago

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The Hideout ; @edhellfire86 — cont. from here

Whit had only been to the Hideout once before- and was still pretty unfamiliar with the layout, just how far it was from her house… all the things to work up some lingering anxiety about somewhere unfamiliar. However, the excitement of surprising Eddie took over any nerves that remained—

The place was pretty neat, it was a little intimidating but hey- the girl put on her favorite little skirt and put up her hair, a bit of makeup to give her features a boost but nothing too much.. and she was ready to go.

Walking in, those chocolate eyes darted everywhere, searching the crowd for him- even accidentally mistaking someone for him thankfully only once. Checking by the bathrooms, no luck- on the other side.. nope. A frustrated sigh fell from the girl’s lips; she didn’t want to give up, not just yet- she had to see him tonight, and to see him here in his element.

After checking one more time by a few tables, Whitney quickly turned to find one of the employees to see if they could help— turning on her heel, she wasn’t paying attention when her body collided with another; and with the boots she chose to wear, the girl nearly took a tumble, but thankfully whoever it was caught her just in time. Heat rose to her cheeks as she was immediately ready to apologize, when those desperate eyes absolutely lit up—

“Hey!!” She beamed, relief washing over her as her arms made their way around his neck. “I made it! I didn’t think I was gonna be able to see you tonight, but I got out of work early!” Pulling away, Whit smoothed down her skirt and took in Eddie’s outfit for the night, her heart thumping out of time. “Thank you for catching me- you look so good”

#edhellfire86 #// I hope this works!

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entangledmuses · 6 months ago

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It was the shift from hell. All because the Probie at the beginning of the shift mentioned the 'Q' word. He was learning the hard way that Quiet was not a word you used here, otherwise the complete opposite would be the case. They had just got back from a call when the alarm was going off again. Bailey sighed, grabbing her gear, and climbing back in.

"Damnit. Thanks Probie." One of her colleagues called out as they once again climbed into the rig.

She put on her headset as the rig started to leave the firehouse again.

"So what we got?" She asked.

"Seems like a fire alarm went off at a school." She heard over the comms.

"At this time? Think its some kind of prank? Kids break in, pull the fire alarm and watch us all run to the scene?" She asked.

"Be pretty stupid to do that. They know if they are caught, they could be fined for wasting our time, and resources and pulling us from another potential scene right?" Her colleague asked.

"Kids don't know those kind of things Jack." Bailey reminded him. She looked at her tablet that had just had the layout of the school sent to her, with all exits and windows. "So the layout doesn't seem too complicated, shouldn't be a maze, so as long as we keep track of our routes, we should be able to get in and out easily, so long as our exits don't get blocked, we should be fine." She told the team.

Once at the scene, Bailey climbed out and looked at the school. It seemed pretty dark. No sign of fire.

"Just cause it looks safe, don't assume it is." She told them.

She started to put them into groups, giving them sections to go search, and told them to keep in contact on the comms, updating if an area was clear, or if there was something that needed back up. Sometimes, she preferred when the fire was visible, at least she knew what she was dealing with. But in this situation, they were going in blind.

However, being in lead today, meant that she had to stay outside, and keep her team safe. She watched them going in, and she listened to them tell her where they were, and if an area was clear, marking it on the tablet, so she knew what area had been checked off.

She opened her mouth to speak when something landed on the ground in front of her, making her jump, again, about to signal that they had a jumper, when it started to fizzle away.

"What the fuck?" She said, stepping a little closer, but not too close. Her head instantly lift to look up at the roof, seeing a figure looking back at her.

"Head to the roof, we may have a jumper, or... at least some prankster." She said.

The way the thing was sizzling away, it had to be some kind of prank. right? It had looked so real when it landed with a splat about 15 ft in front of her. But now, it seemed like some chemistry project.

Her eyes lift to the roof again, the figure gone. "Whoever is closer, get there fast." She said, pulling up a layout of the roof, seeing if there was another way off it. There seemed to be an emergency stair case around the back, and before she could tell the team, she was off running around the back of the building, hoping to catch her dark figure.

(Closed starter for @entangledmuses - for Bailey Nune)

Tolaas had managed to chase the damned ShadowDemon through the backstreets and alleyways of LA, at night, and mostly avoiding lights and lots of people, thankfully.

The ShadowDemon he was chasing happened to look like a chimpanzee, with four arms, and two tails. Blacker than night, and oily looking. It had several rows of teeth, which Tolaas found out the hard way - his bandaged hand was proof. It was also highly intelligent. And it had slipped through a ShadiwPortal to create havoc.

Tolaas had chased it to an abandoned high school. He could feel the little bastard somewhere on the ground floor. "Yanno I'll find ya, ya little prick!" he shouted. His voice just barely echoed, but he knew he was loud enough the chimp-thing ShadowDemon could hear him.

There was a few noises from around the corner and down the hall, then came chittering and chattering in a fast, chimp-like fashion, followed by a very articulate and loud (albeit a bit high-pitched) "Fuck you!"

Tolaas smirked. He rounded the corner, sawed-off shotgun drawn and lifted. Suddenly, there was a trash can thrown at him, followed by a scuffling and sone crashing.

He ran toward the noise when there came an exceptionally loud ringing. Shit. It'd set off the fire alarm. Well played, ya little shitstain, Tolaas thought. However, with his senses heightened, the ringing nose was hurting the hellout of his ears.

But then came the sense of urgency. He had to find the ShadowDemon, kill it, and get out of there before the fire department and police showed up. Granted, all he'd need to do was call Terran if things got too dicey, but otherwise he hoped he would get out ofthis himself.

He was getting closer to the ShadowDemon, when he heard it clamber up the stairs. "Dammit," Tolaas muttered to himself, and ran up the stairs after it. He rounded the corner of the small hallway and spotted it. Raising his sawed-off, he took a shot. Tolaas barely missed. The damned thing jumped up against the lockers at the last minute, clambering over the top of them, rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, and scurried up the stairs.

Tolaas smirked. It had made it to the third floor, and he followed. "Ain't nowhere else ta go!" he called out. He rounded the corner and immediately ducked behind an open classroom door. "Either go back ta the ShadowLands, er I'm gonna kill ya!"

Suddenly, he heard sirens. Both cops, a fire engine, and paramedics. "Goddammit," he hissed under his breath. He peeked out from behind the door and took a shot down the hallway. He heard a loud squeal-roar, which meant Tolaas had hit the thing, and then he heard more running again.

"Where the fuck'er ya goin'?" he whispered to himself. Then he heard a door open, and it was fairly heavy by the sound of it. Before it swung closed, he heard more scuttling up the stairs. "Shit, the roof!"

Tolaas ran after it. At least on the roof, it would have nowhere else to go. He managed to make it to the door before it closed completely. He yanked it open and followed the stairs up to the exit to the roof.

He stayed bent over and ducked, moving quietly to the edge of the rof to look over. Yup, cop cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. "Shit," Tolaas muttered. He gave a sigh.

He slowly moved around the roof, until the damned chimp-thing ShadowDemon was in sight. It was standing on the edge of the roof. When it heard Tolaas approach, it whirled around. It huffed up, extending its arms to look like claws, just to make itself look bigger and more threatening.

It hissed, growled, and gave a high-pitched scream. Tolaas raised the sawed off and smirked. "Bye-bye," he said and pulled the trigger. The ShadowDemon was blasted off of the edge of the roof. Tolaas ran to the edge and looked down, watching it fall right in front of the first responders that had shown up.

It hit the ground with a sickening 'splut', and then slowly started to sizzle and dissolve away into nothing.

Now ta find a way off'n this roof an' get the hell outta here, he thought. But he stood on the edge for a few moments longer, then ducked back, wandering around the roof looking for a ladder.

#muse:Bailey Nune #thread:Bailey and Tolaas #nytehavyncircle #hope this is ok :D

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gffa · 3 years ago

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It’s only been three months since the last time I did a set of STAR WARS fic recs, so at least I’m not getting worse, even if fandom has continued to put out more fic than I can possibly keep up with, because you guys are pretty great. I know 2022 has been a weird year already, but at least one thing remains constant–this fandom has written a lot of fic that’s made me laugh, made me lose all coherent thought so I’m just left with fizz up there, made me have feelings, and made me really glad that, if I must have a hyperfixation on a hell fandom, at least it’s one that I’ve found some pretty cool people in. Cool people and fic that’s just as epic and cool as they are! STAR WARS FIC RECS: PREQUELS RECS: ✦ keep time with the melody (we learn to play in minor key) by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & barriss & luminara & cast, 7k Barriss Offee loses her first master in the Second Battle of Geonosis. She is unsure of her new master, but Obi-Wan has practice in proving his worth. ✦ the better part of valor by treescape, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka, ~1k “I thought the plan was for you to discreetly investigate the layout of the dungeons while Ahsoka and I handled the politics,” Obi-Wan said with a pointed sigh. “Did you at least find what we’re looking for?” ✦ The End is a Beginning by peachybitters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k In the aftermath of grief and loss, Obi-Wan and Anakin begin their journey as Master and Padawan. ✦ fearless and therefore powerful by AceQueenKing, padme & obi-wan & bail & sabe & leia & cast, 12.3k Padmé Amidala is brought back to life post-TROS by Palpatine, but there’s a catch: she’s been remade into one of her childhood monsters. Padmé faces a new life, one where she has come back wrong. ✦ You will find that the world has changed forever by ambiguously, mace & katooni & barriss, 5.4k Mace survives his fight with Palpatine and Anakin, with help from a friend. ✦ Tears on Ilum by peachybitters, obi-wan & anakin & yoda, 4k Obi-Wan plans a trip to the Crystal Cave on Ilum in search for a kyber crystal for his new lightsaber, and his new Padawan, Anakin, is upset at the thought of being left behind. But where his master goes, he is called to follow (at least this time). ✦ old words die out (new melodies break forth) by silveryink, mace & obi-wan & bail & yoda & kanan & cast, 7.4k Mace survives his fall from Palpatine’s office. The universe is a bit softer than it could have been. ✦ Anakin’s DNA Wish by phoenixyfriend, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & vokara & bant & kix & cast, 7.1k Anakin’s blood is half Force. It glows under microscopes and ruins genome sequencing machines, and everyone’s very tired of that. ✦ Day of Reflection by AdaliaK, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.5k Obi-Wan blames Anakin for Ahsoka’s un-Jedi-like behavior and forces the two of them to spend a day in the Archives, but Anakin has other ideas. (Basically The Clone Wars meets The Breakfast Club) ✦ drowning. by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.2k Darth Vader is drowning in the darkness. When the light reaches out for him, he holds onto it with newfound desperation. ✦ where you go, i’m going by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 2.2k If only Obi-Wan hadn’t gone on this foolhardy, ridiculous solo mission and had let Anakin come with him. But Obi-Wan had insisted he go alone. ✦ Four Walls and Two Jedi by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 10k Obi-Wan and Anakin get exposed to a deadly virus and must spend two weeks in quarantine battling sickness, ghosts from the past, and worries for the future. ✦ that nature is so by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 2.4k Anakin is injured and Ahsoka spends some time with her Grandmaster. ✦ Life Day Eve Reflections by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, 3.2k A Life Day Eve begins with frustration, but Anakin receives consolation and a gift from a familiar stranger, and understanding from his master. ✦ Armed With a Burning Patience by tessiete, obi-wan/satine, NSFW, 3.2k After his miraculous resurrection from the assassination by Rako Hardeen, Satine waits for Obi-Wan to apologise…she may have to wait a very long time. ✦ The Ground Beneath Us by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin (&anakin/padme & cast), 7.5k Obi-Wan makes Anakin go on walks and maybe it saves the galaxy. ✦ As the snowflakes fall by florgi, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k Young Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi hates cold planets… until a certain Padawan gets to experience his first fall of snow. ✦ Ghosts by Threebea O (ThreeBea), obi-wan & anakin, force ghosts, time travel, 1.3k In his last moments Anakin Skywalker falls through the cracks of time to right all the wrongs that came to pass. His Master stands beside him. ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & dooku & yoda & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 17k This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ Direct Action by silveryink, luminara & barriss & cast, 4.3k Upon investigating the health of her new battalion, Barriss discovers tumours located in all their heads. It’s a bigger problem than it appears to be. ✦ Sharing a Bed With Your Padawan by DontCallMeShirley, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & dooku & qui-gon, ~1k [A series of sharing a bed with Masters and Padawans.] ✦ A New Kind of Fight by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cody & rex, 1.8k The Clone Wars have been won. Palpatine mysteriously died off-screen. Order 66 is never executed. But without a war, the disaster trio and friends fight a new type of battle. ✦ invincible like i’ve never been by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.9k anakin dreams of obi-wan dying instead of padmé. there’s fall-out. ✦ You’ve Come Such a Long Way by OuzoAthena11, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & boil & cody & cast, 6.2k Anakin refuses Ahsoka’s request to learn Jar'Kai. She decides to talk to her grandmaster to get his opinion on it. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ the expanse of forever by billowypants, obi-wan/anakin & luke, force ghosts, 3.9k “Are you and Ben, like, together?” ✦ Upfall by bell, obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/satine & brief anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast, NSFW, 160k wip Anakin is doing just about everything he can to hold himself together; it won’t last. ✦ For Your Pleasure by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking, d/s, potential dubcon, read the tags, 4.5k Undercover as slaver and slave,Obi-Wan and Anakin infiltrate a slaver’s ring,only for Anakin’s training and ability to take punishment to come into question. ✦ Find his pleasure by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking, d/s, read the tags, 7.2k A year after their disastrous undercover mission Obi-Wan and Anakin must again work as master and slave to infiltrate the galaxy’s largest slave auction. Anakin shouldn’t be so eager for it,or so Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ War Drums by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & quinlan & shmi & cast, time travel, 30.8k wip In 32BBY, ten-year-old Anakin Skywalker wakes up as Darth Vader, his mind overwritten by the consciousness of his future self. In one day, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi loses his Master, gains the confusing and concerning friendship of a 46-year-old (ex-)Sith Lord trapped in a child’s body, and is pulled along on his desperate mission to save the galaxy. ✦ à la carte by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin & mace & quinlan & ahsoka & satine & padme & rex & jesse, NSFW, modern au, 55.6k Anakin Skywalker is a perfectly normal grad student. He spends his days at the robotics lab, his evenings working at an upscale restaurant and his weekends on inadvisable hookups. That is, until Obi-Wan Kenobi saunters into his workplace and sweeps him off his feet. ✦ une œuvre d’art by shatou, obi-wan/anakin & plo, 3.2l Anakin purifies his Kyber crystal, with Obi-Wan by his side. ✦ untying a great knot by septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4k wip The training of an unusual Padawan requires an unorthodox technique. ✦ but when he walks in by billowypants, obi-wan/anakin, greek gods au, 2.6k They say that Chaos, the eldest of the gods, is the most powerful being in the universe. [….] But they are wrong. ✦ should you need to come undone by zaecula, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k Obi-Wan probably had sex all the time. If he didn’t, it was only thanks to the Code— even Anakin, despite being his student, recognized his master’s staggering sex appeal. ✦ to reach for the sunlight by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.4k Obi-Wan continues fucking Vader back to the Light. ✦ Across the Stars by unfortunate17, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 14.9k A story of how Obi-Wan and Anakin have thousands of firsts between them, fates intertwined by the will of the force across space and time. Or, Obi-Wan is the Time Traveler’s Wife. ✦ A Place Where We Are Both Named Love by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, caning, 7.8k After a long, trying week, Anakin asks for what he needs. ✦ Temporary Like Achilles by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 17k Midway through the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan’s starfighter was shot down by the Separatists in a dogfight over Dathomir, and he has not made contact since. Unacceptable. ✦ what cannot be said (will be wept) by obiwanobi, obi-wan/anakin, historical au, medieval au, 4.7k Obi-Wan tries to leave the party of the new crown prince of Coruscant without being noticed. The new crown prince isn’t pleased to see him leaving without a proper goodbye. ✦ what’s mine is yours is ours by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 8.6k Obi-Wan receives word that his former padawan is pregnant. This hurts, because he really thought that after all the gift-giving and scent-marking, Anakin would accept his own courtship before someone else’s. ✦ faint with love by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 3.6k Anakin catches Obi-Wan teaching younglings and realizes how much he loves certain qualities of Obi-Wan’s. ✦ star-map by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, senator!obi-wan, 2k The joy of reunion after a long separation. ✦ classroom engagement by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 1.8k Anakin tries the door one last time, as if somehow something will have changed, and then scrubs one hand over his face in sharp frustration. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” he says miserably, hearing the latch of the door as he closed it behind him again and again. ✦ i wait for you (like a empty house) by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan/anakin & cast, modern au, 18.4k This is a story about love. ✦ at your leisure by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.1k “I can feel how much you want to come,” Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. “Would you like that? To come right now so that you can sit here properly as long as I’d like?” ✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking, 12k wip Anakin can’t stand Obi-Wan’s new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it. ✦ Tomorrow shall be brighter by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin, royalty au, 2k Palpatine has taken over the kingdom, declaring a new empire. Knight Kenobi managed to save the young prince and escape the capital, spending the night in a small inn. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 16: Anakin, Duke of Vader, Prince of Coruscant by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, historical au, medieval au, 7.5k This is inspired by this tumblr post: “oh, to be a spoiled, arrogant bastard prince, used to getting my way, confused and annoyed by my attraction to my strong angry bodyguard who won’t put up with any of my shit” and the anon that poked me to write it. ✦ All I Want for Christmas by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 8.7k Obi-Wan is alone for the holidays and having an awful time of it. Until he meets a strange cat in his yard and his even stranger human. ✦ Pyre by marycontraire, obi-wan/anakin, 1.8k Padme makes a different decision in Attack of the Clones. In the aftermath, Obi-Wan and Anakin return to Tatooine. ✦ behind closed doors by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.7k Or, sometimes Obi-Wan and Vader play a game. ✦ Se desmaya una flor by Petra, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k Anakin wondered exactly what was so terrible about what he’d said, and why he was so eager to have sex with someone who made quotation marks with his fingers in the air. ✦ when all we have are shadows by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 8.3k Anakin’s gone when Obi-Wan wakes up. He’s left a note, a little cutesy message with a smiley face and awful handwriting. He has a class he can’t miss, it says. Obi-Wan’s gone and fucked a college kid. ✦ I can fill those places in your heart no else can by pontah, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern AU, omegaverse, read the tags, 9.4k Anakin pulls over in front of his ex’s house with a plan and his cigarette halfway through the paper. ✦ All Over My Teeth by TheTragicallyHam, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.7k Anakin is bitten by an unknown creature on Kashyyyk, and is sent back to Coruscant with a fever and deadly infection. Obi-Wan’s mission is to travel back to Kashyyyk in an attempt to try and figure out how to cure him. When Obi-Wan comes back, Anakin’s condition is not what he was expecting. ✦ always and forever by obikinn, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dragon!obi-wan, 2k “I think you should fuck me while you’re a dragon, tonight.“ -Anakin Skywalker, known monsterfucker ✦ To Find the One by Bittodeath, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/others, medieval au, omegaverse, 1.2k Anakin Skywalker is a beautiful omega - too beautiful, perhaps: his husbands keep dying, one after the other. But Obi-Wan is willing to take a chance, and find mercy in the omega’s heart. ✦ The Desk by SunAndStarz, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 1.4k A very inappropriate use of a classroom. But Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t care. ✦ It’s How You Learn by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 10.6k Anakin and Obi-Wan spar in Jar'Kai and it ends up exactly how they both planned ✦ Choices of a Chosen One by Threebea O (ThreeBea), obi-wan/anakin/padme, 11.2k wip Anakin Skywalker realizes he doesn’t need to choose anymore. He can have what he wants. He no longer needs to heed the old men trying to control him. He is in control now. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ a promise made by CeruleanTactician, anakin & leia, 1.4k The first and last time the ghost of Anakin Skywalker attempts to speak to his daughter. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post

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randofics · 2 years ago

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Dark water

Steve rogers x reader

I came across the bottom picture and thought about taking a shower in the dark. I've done it before when the bulb in the bathroom broke and it was surprisingly nice. So here's some Steve x reader shower smut. There's some plot and I may tie it into another fic if I get inspired to do another with Steve soon.

18+ Under the cut

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Steve rogers had been training at your uncle's gym for a month now. He said it was the only one still standing with the original 40s layout and feel. It made him feel at home, like before the serum. Today he had been practicing more than usual. Pushing himself too hard. It was already dark out when you decided to interrupt him.

"Steve! You should take a break or something. Even with your powers you don't need to push yourself so hard. Why don't you go take a shower and get outta here. I need to close up eventually." He smiled and walked over from the punching bag to the bench next to you. "Heh sorry I lost track of time, I'll clean up and get out of your hair." He started to unwrap his hands as you walked to the office. You had some things to tidy up before you had to leave anyways so he had time to shower before you actually locked up.

A loud crack of thunder startled you making you spill your drink all over yourself. You cursed as you tried to dry it up with some tissues but it had already seeped through to your skin. It made your skin feel sticky and you decided to take a quick shower before you left. But when you got up the lights cut out. You couldn't find your phone so you had to feel your way out the office and to the shower room. On your way lightning lit up the gym room and you didn't see Steve's bag on the bench. So you sighed in relief that he wouldn't be in the shower room too.

There weren't enough women at the gym to build a separate shower so everyone had to use the only two showers in the small building. At this point the rain on the old roof was so loud that you didn't hear the shower running. You stripped and left your clothes on the bench. The shower room had no windows so it was completely dark aside from the occasional flash of lightning from the gym room.

You felt your way forward and once you found the curtain of one shower you slipped inside barely making a sound. Though when you felt warm water on your skin and then a warm shoulder you yelped falling backwards. A strong arm caught you, and an all to familiar voice made realization hit you. Steve hadn't left yet like you had thought, that's why his bag wasn't there. He had still been taking a shower when the lights cut out.

"Y/n is that you?" You squeaked in response. "You ok?" "I am so sorry I didn't know you were still here and the thunder made me spill my drink and I got all sticky so I figured I'd take a shower---" "Hey its ok it was an honest mistake and it seems like you've had a bad string of luck. Also the other shower is out of order for now. Your uncle told me about it earlier today."

He was trying his hardest not to look down at you. Even in such low light he could see pretty well. He had caught a glimpse of you when he caught you but he let go of you once you were steady on your feet again. You however were blind as a bat so you placed a hand on the tile wall to steady yourself. Your thoughts were going into overdrive. He was naked in front of you and you were too.

Swallowing your nerves you asked him for the soap, wanting to get rid of the sticky residue on your skin. You moved a hand forward landing on his chest as you searched for the stream of water. He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to the water. You mumbled a thank you to him as you lathered the soap over the areas affected by the spilled drink. Once you were sure you got everything you rinsed off quickly, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

The entire time Steve was backed into the corner of the shower so he didn't touch you again. He kept his gaze towards the ceiling. His mind raced torn between his gentleman nature and his darker desires. Here you were naked in front of him like a feast waiting to be eaten. He cut his gaze down for a moment only to be caught on the curve of your back. He wanted so badly to run his hand along your spine, to see you shiver at his touch. No he couldn't do that.But then again what if he did, how would you react?

His dark thoughts were winning by the second and when you turned around he pounced. He pinned you to the wall of the shower, breathing heavily. Your own thoughts had been running wild knowing that he was a few feet from you and completely naked. You wouldn't lie that you imagined what he would look like without his clothes. And now that he had you pinned your thoughts only got darker. His voice cut through your thoughts. "Do you want this?" You could tell by his voice that he was trying his best to restrain himself, always the gentleman. "Ye-yeah." He kissed you hard and you wrapped your arms around his neck. One hand landed on your waist pulling you against him.

You gasped and his tongue wrapped around yours. Instinctually you lifted one leg to wrap around his hip. His hand went to your thigh squeezing gently. His length pressed against your other leg and you rubbed against him. He hissed at the friction his other hand moving to your lower back. Your hands tugged at this short locks and he broke away from you for air. "You ok y/n?" You chuckled in response. "I'll take that as a yes." He attacked your neck leaving hickeys on your pulse. "Jump." He stated darkly. Jumping up he caught your other thigh to support you pressing you into the tile wall.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. His tip brushing against your folds. "Do you want to continue?" "Yes Steve." One hand went to your folds splitting them open. Your juices leaked onto him and he used it to lubricate himself. His tip prodded your entrance and you both took a deep breath to ready yourselves. As he pushed in you both hissed. He was big but you figured as much. He split you open painfully. Once he was hilted inside you he stopped to let you adjust. You were so warm around him, your walls squeezing gently. After a minute you moved your hips experimentally and pleasure ran through you.

At that he pulled out slowly and plunged back in. He started a slow pace to let you get used to him. You moaned in his ear, your hands pawing at his back. He picked up the pace his hands on your rear squeezing roughly. He grunted at a particularly hard squeeze around him. "Harder Steve!" You practically begged him. Growling in your ear he slammed into you. You mewled and cried into his neck as his hips slammed into yours. The coil in you tightening with every thrust. He suddenly bit your shoulder lifting one of your legs up and hooking his arm under your knee. The new angle was the end of you. Your nails scratching his skin as the coil finally snapped and you squeezed him hard.

When you released around him it took all his willpower to pull out of you just before he too released. White ropes hit the tiles of the shower. He grunted in your ear calling your name. You too calling his name as you both came down from your highs. He peppered kisses on your neck and cheek making you giggle. "Let's get outta here baby." He helped you wash away the juices that leaked out of you and wash the wall where he released. After you both got dressed he offered to take you home knowing that your car was in the shop. Luckily he had a cover for his motorcycle so it had stayed dry during the storm. Said storm had moved on leaving the streets wet. You held onto him as he drove off to your apartment. He walked you up the steps to your door your arm in his. After you unlocked the door you gave him a peck on the lips. "I wish I took you out on a date first." "It's ok honey you still can." "Ok then how's Friday sound? I can pick you up for lunch." "Sounds good darling." With a peck on the cheek you walked inside waving to him before closing the door. He walked down the steps with a smile on his face. He hopped back on his bike and drove off his taillight fading into the distance.

#steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #smut #avengers x fem!reader

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years ago

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“Oh, good, it has a mind of it’s own.”

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Drabble Summary: You buy a Roomba without consulting Bucky and he doesn’t know what to think of it. Word Count: 498 words

A/N: I’m stepping into drabbles (500 words and less) just to stretch my muscles and work with using prompts! So, yeah, hope you enjoy! These are pretty informal as you can tell

Masterlist

Bucky already knew the moment he entered your shared apartment that something was off. What it was, though, he couldn’t quite tell. He glanced around at the living room and kitchen laid out before him from the entryway. Everything seemed to be in tip-top shape, except for you, but he figured you were napping or --

Bang. A loud crash came from the bedroom, making all of Bucky’s senses alert. He abandoned his bag and coat at the door, wasting no time racing down the hall.

Barging into the bedroom, Bucky called out your name as he began desperately searching for you.

“Over here!” You raised your arm, signaling to Bucky from your spot on the floor between the wall and your shared bed.

You heard boot steps creep up behind you but ignored them, heavily invested in something on the floor. You were grumbling to yourself, cursing at whatever had your undivided attention.

While Bucky was relieved you appeared to be okay, that didn’t explain what was going on. Confused, Bucky cleared his throat and asked, “Everything okay down there?”

You sighed, halting your work. “I think he hurt himself.”

“He?” Bucky asked, brows raised in surprise. “Who hurt himself?”

Slowly, you stood up and pointed downwards. There, next to the wall, was a little, black, round...device? Bucky wasn’t actually sure what he was looking at. He turned back to you, unsure.

“I bought us a Roomba but he hit the wall,” you frowned. “I think he’s okay but I probably need to help him get back on track-,”

“Woah, woah,” Bucky held up his arms, a silent plea for you to slow the heck down. “A Roomba? What the hell is a Roomba?”

“He’s like a little robot,” you explained. “He roams around your house vacuuming.”

“You brought a robot into our house?”

You gave him a look. “Not like a real robot-,”

Just as you were about to make your case, the Roomba turned back on and began circling the small area, trying to find a way out of its current position. It hit yours and Bucky’s feet frantically as it searched. Bucky jumped at the motions but before he could really freak out on it, the device zipped under the bed and got back to vacuuming.

“Oh, good, it has a mind of its own.”

You giggled. “Maybe, but not in a bad way.” Your defense for your little vacuuming buddy was going up. “He just learns the layout of the apartment and cleans up.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think that makes me feel any better about it, honey.” You two watched as the Roomba began to make its way out of the room. “I also don’t like that you gave it a gender.”

“Just you wait,” you smirked. “I’m working out a list of names for him as we speak.”

“Perfect,” Bucky grumbled sarcastically. “That’s exactly what we needed. A pet robot.”

“He is not-,”

“Honey, please. Yes, it is.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #the winter soldier #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #mcu #mcu fic #drabble #writing*#fluff #humor

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whltlock · 3 years ago

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The Cosmic Horror of Gotham City

CHAPTER TWO / ONE / Subscribe on AO3

Pairing: Jason Todd/Non-binary!Reader

Summary: You learn more about Gotham and its weirdos and have some fun. Red gives you a nickname. Tags: Non-binary Reader, Dick and Reader are Roma, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Body Horror, Post Arkham Knight, Tall Reader, jason goes to therapy fr, do i project my disabilities onto everyone? yes i do, i make dc and marvel kiss a little, i just love writing about jason learning to give and accept love Word Count: 7956

The liminal feeling of the space was broken when your eyes landed on a hulk of a man in red.

Red Hood looked out of place, uncomfortable—but the kids? They didn’t seem to mind his presence. Some even threw him a passing cheer or fist bump. An attempt at one, at least. He was bad at matching the intensity of their greetings. You smiled lopsidedly.

Your staring didn't go unrequited for long. He probably felt it, since his helmet flicked up in your direction. He reacted, quick and tense, as his back straightened and his arms fell to his sides. He held your gaze, gauging the situation. He was always searching for the threat.

The moment you took a step forward, he slunk away. Red glided down a passageway of games and out of sight. You didn’t know what possessed you to follow.

“Are you running from me, Red?”

A/N: Thank you for those who've taken interest in the story!

Can you tell the exact moment that I fell in love with Roy while writing this?

I made a Pinterest board for the vibes.

By the end of the night, you met the mellower side of Roy. His mischief was more palatable when Donna reprimanded him with a side-eye.

Your gaze settled on her as she laughed at something Roy said. She was pretty with wavy, dark hair and a weird, glittery glow about her. Peeking back at Roy, you thought he might think so too. Despite the arguing, they complimented each other well.

You liked how quietly certain she was of herself. And Roy made you feel, well—not safe, or like you could necessarily trust him yet—but nevertheless welcomed with his antics.

It was comfortable. You had relaxed into the overworn seat and happily contributed to the conversation here and there. You managed to avoid the tough, all too personal questions.

The two had even told you what a library page was.

“Ugh, my best bud went on for weeks about one of the page’s shitty organising,” Roy moaned. “He reordered an entire section by himself.”

Donna snickered. “Yeah, serves you right for collecting nerds.”

Later, they’d also tried to explain the layout of Gotham to you, but the information had taken the first exit out of your brain. The Narrows? Iceberg Lounge? It sparked nothing meaningful. Oh well.

Roy’s face lit up with his next idea. “Let’s celebrate again tomorrow night. After your first day!”

“No can do, bucko,” Donna said with an apologetic look shot your way. “Sorry.”

With a nod, you told her it was fine. You hadn’t expected anything more from them. Even if the invitation made you feel spry.

Roy was quick to ask, “Huh? Why not?”

“Got a wedding.”

Perking up at that, you pushed forward onto your elbows. “Oh?”

“I’m a photographer,” she clarified.

“What’s that like?”

Donna thoughtfully considered the question. “It’s weird. You’re basically an intruder on a pretty special day... but, it’s nice. Seeing everyone happy.” She continued, “It’s kind of a buzz, actually. And the family loves you afterwards.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you hummed a little dreamily, reimagining the scene. “Do you ever take cake home?”

Roy laughed. “You betcha. She even shares sometimes,” he said with a cheeky nudge.

She snorted. “Only when there’s no Bridezilla.”

Smiling into your glass, the emptiness of it prompted you to check the time. Phone slipped from your jumper’s pocket, you let out a muted sigh when you saw how late it was.

Donna raised an eyebrow. “Do you need to go?”

Warily, you met her gaze. “Yeah.” Not wanting to come off as ungrateful, you added, “It was good to meet you two.”

Roy grinned. “S’all good. We’ll do it again, don’t you worry!”

Donna nodded her agreement.

As you rose, her hand atop yours made you pause. You itched to retract from the touch, but held still, eyes levelled on her. It was hard to miss how warm her fingers were in comparison to yours.

“Do you have a ride?”

“Oh. Um, no,” you said.

She looked to Roy as she said, “One of us can walk with you.”

You glanced between them, frenzied uncertainty twisting your nerves. “It’s alright, you don’t need to.”

“No hard feelings if you wanna go with the pretty lady,” Roy winked, subtly encouraging you to accept their help. “I’d choose her too.”

You noticed how Donna had to fight off the blush rising up her neck as he embarrassed her.

Swallowing harshly, you made a rash decision. “You can both walk me to my block. That’s it.”

Donna regarded your cautiousness with a curt nod, proud of you for setting boundaries so quickly.

“Deal,” Roy said, leaping up. He hollered a goodbye to Francine as the three of you departed.

The conversation was minimal as you walked, instead appreciating the brisk night air and how Roy soloed a show tune under his breath. Your new acquaintances stopped where you had agreed, then said their cheerful goodbyes.

You left them with a look over your shoulder and a small wave. The pair stayed on the corner, under the only light bulb, keeping watch till you disappeared. They’d be downright shitty heroes if they let something happen in front of them.

Nine-fifty AM.

Early enough to seem committed, you thought. You stepped into the library, awkwardly making a stop to flatten out your clothes once more. You hoped what you were wearing would pass the visual test.

With a final deep breath, you made your way to reception. A different person manned the desk this time. You slapped a customer service-friendly smile onto your face.

Their eyes moved from the computer to you as they asked, “Hello, what can I do for you?”

Briefly, you looked over their clothes. Casual. That was good.

“I’m meant to meet Dorothy at ten,” you said. They nodded.

“Just a moment. Let me grab her.” Rising from the swivel chair, they wandered through the STAFF ONLY entrance. A moment later, they returned with Dorothy.

“Ah, there you are,” the elder woman said. “Good to see you showed up!” She moved sideways along the desk, pointing to a flimsy divider. “Come around, come around.”

As you passed through the small area, Dorothy launched into her spiel. “Now, this is Tia. She’s a junior librarian. She works here most days.”

Tia smiled at you kindly. “Welcome to the library.”

“Thank you,” you said. She nodded at you two as she sat down again.

“You need to fill in some boring ol’ forms,” Dorothy said, signalling for you to follow her into the office. She grabbed a clipboard and a pen and dropped it onto the table. “I’ll make you up a lanyard in the meantime.”

“Alright,” you agreed, falling into the nearest seat. She left the room the way she’d come.

The stack of paperwork made you nervous, but you soon realised that only the first page was relevant. The address part had you stuck, though. You left it blank for now.

When Dorothy returned, she gave you your lanyard. Your name had been printed on the plastic in bold lettering and underneath it was LIBRARY PAGE. An odd sense of pride trickled in.

“That doubles as a key, so don’t lose it,” she warned, eying you up. You nodded, looping it over your neck.

“Dorothy, I—”

She brushed you off immediately. “Oh, please. Just call me Dotty. Everyone else does.”

“Okay. Well,” you tried again. “I’m new to Gotham, so I don’t have a permanent residence yet.”

She hummed. “Yes, that’s fine. We can add it later.”

“Great. I’m done, then,” you confirmed.

“Excellent. Tour time.”

As Dotty led you through the rows of shelving and tables sighing about this and that, you absently trailed your fingers along the delicate books. It smelt kind of musty, but also... cosy. It was pleasantly quiet. And apparently, you were allowed to tell people to shut up. In those exact words. That would add some spice to your day if you needed it.

“That section over there is where we’ve been planning to start up kids time,” Dotty said. “We don’t get much funding, you know, but it would be good for the children.”

Her outstretched arm directed your attention to an assortment of bean bags and small toys. It was near where you’d sat on your initial visit.

Speaking of, that hoodie looked familiar. A deep red amongst the dark cushions. Huh. You were quite sure that guy had been here, too. He must have been a regular.

No more than a second later did you realise that he squirmed under your gaze. You averted your eyes and sent a telepathic apology into the air. You turned away to hurry after Dotty, barely managing to catch the last of what she spouted.

She took you back through the swing gate.

“This is your trolley,” she said, hands clasped over its rails. “You’ll need to sort these books during your shift. There’s also an afterhours chute by the doors. Sometimes that will have books, too. Just check it every couple of days.”

Her watchful eyes gleamed down at you to make sure you were listening. You acknowledged the look with a polite, “Of course.”

Satisfied, she continued. “If anyone asks for help, just send ‘em to the desk. Helping isn’t your job.”

You nodded again.

“Make sure the doors are locked if you’re ever last to leave.” She tapped her chin as she tried to remember what else she needed to say. “Oh, yes. You can have your break whenever you would like, but only half an hour.”

“Thanks, Dotty.”

A few leisurely hours passed by as your first ever day as a library page. Choosing then to take your break, you wheeled over the empty, stainless-steel trolley to its rightful place. Dotty had replaced Tia in the reception seat and you shot her your most cordial smile. It got you a curt nod in return as she waved you off.

With a breath that you hoped summoned a bout of confidence, you shuffled into the staff room. Tia lounged in one of the cushioned chairs, legs slung wildly. She scrolled through her phone while she munched on something.

Her eyes lifted when she heard you come in. “Hey, newbie,” she greeted.

“Hey.” As a means of continuing the conversation, you asked her, “When do you become a senior librarian?”

“Whenever Dotty decides to drop dead,” Tia said. You stifled a laugh with the palm of your hand.

Eyes going wide, you realised, “Oh, you’re not kidding.”

She smiled ruefully. “Nah. At least she brings in treats and stuff for tea time.” She poked the pile of biscuits on the table. “And they’re not even stale.”

“There can only be one of you?”

“City can’t afford to pay more,” she said, a dejected frown tugging at her mouth.

You mulled the day over, thinking back to your interactions with Dotty. “She seems a bit... paranoid.”

Tia scoffed. “You haven’t noticed the loaded shotgun under the counter?”

There was a lull in the conversation as you contemplated it. You figured it was only for when situations went bad, right?

Noticing your pensiveness, she nudged you with her foot. “Anyway, eat up before she chases you down. I think she has a stop watch set for all of us.”

It pulled another laugh from you but you took her sound advice. Hungrily, you snatched a giant cookie from the plate of goods. You would bring lunch when you had some actual money.

The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into Pauli’s was Roy. Just like he promised, he was sprawled out in the same booth as yesterday. He was slouched over the table from drowsiness.

The waitstaff greeted you with nods and you smiled back. As you walked past the counter, you basked in the yellow hue and soft jukebox music. It was fairly empty. Must be too early for dinner.

When Roy uncurled, his hair stuck out in different directions. There was also a pink indent pressed into the side of his face. In what daylight remained, you saw the cute smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, brightening when he recognised you.

“Hey!” he welcomed, gaze on you as you slid into the seat opposite him.

“Pre-game nap?” you asked, placing your hands on the table. His green jumper really made him stand out.

“I like the way you think.” Roy dragged over the menus that had been pushed to the brick wall, probably to make way for his slumber. He passed one to you.

You murmured a soft, “Thanks,” then copied his motions, reading over the options. It was all rather cheap but the change in your pockets felt too light. With a muffled sigh, you looked up at him. “Hey, Roy?”

He hummed, barely glancing away from the list that made him salivate.

“Can I pay you back next week?”

“Sure, don’t worry ‘bout it...” he mumbled.

You tapped him with your shoe under the table. Finally, his head lifted, brows raised.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he smiled shrewdly, jostling you back. “I’m all about charity, remember?”

You tried to mask your amusement with a frown but failed. Instead, you chose to hide your face behind the menu. “Ass.”

He snickered, then he reverted to whining, “C’mon, pick your poison. I’m starving.”

Rolling your eyes, you focused once more. Sandwich? No. Pasta? Hm... no. Pancakes? Not tonight. “Soup?” you considered aloud, cheekily trying to get a rise out of him for his earlier jab.

Roy glared at you. “That’s like paying for water. Eat a proper meal.”

With a dramatic sigh, you said, “Fine. I’ll have a ‘Bacon Mushroom Burger.’”

“And a thickshake?” he prompted.

“Roy,” you lamented. “I’ll have... a coke float.”

The jerk of his chin proved he was satisfied with that. His mouth curved up into a grin as he called over Francine. You didn’t think she was as ecstatic to see him, biting back a laugh when she schooled her dismayed facial expression.

You had a moment to dwell as Roy chatted up the older waitress. In the two days you’d known him, he’d been incessant about your eating habits. You looked down at your hands, speculating whether they were so obviously bony to everyone you encountered. Blue veins floated close to the surface of your skin.

The reflective exterior of the booth caught your eye. You leaned forward, peering into the sheen. Dismally, you noticed how uncomfortably prominent your features were. No wonder the Red Hood hadn’t wanted to share your pizza. And it explained why Roy was trying so hard to fatten you up.

Begrudgingly, you could admit that you needed it. To look healthy again. To feel it, too. Sleep hadn’t washed away the deep aches and twitchy tendencies.

Francine’s stare jolted you from your reverie. Roy must have said something about you because she looked like she anticipated an answer of sorts. You glanced at him, confused.

“I was telling Francine that you’re new to Gotham,” he said.

“Where’re you comin’ from, darl?” she asked.

There was that pet name again. You flinched, arms involuntarily retracting into your lap. The words had lacked the same viscosity of evil, nevertheless—

Your answer was vague. “Europe.”

“I know they got gangs in Europe,” she tsked,“but don’t be foolish, darl. You’d do best to avoid the hotspots here.”

You tried to think back to the places Donna and Roy had mentioned previously. You threw out a random name to appease her. “Uh... Iceberg Lounge?”

“Mhm,” she said. “Don’t forget Crime Row.”

You looked at Roy, having no idea what she was talking about. He presented no help.

“Probably should avoid gettin’ too close to the river, too. Someone might push you in for fun,” Francine mused. “Seen too many bodies float up there.”

Oh, okay, you thought, eyes bugging a little. That was something to take note of.

“It helps to have a muscley guide like this one,” she said, finally shooting a toothy smile Roy’s way.

His laugh was warm. “I’ll walk you home any time you need it, Fran.”

She nodded, snapping back into her usual, tetchy self. “Did I get all the order, then?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p.’ As she spun on her heel, he shouted after her, “Don’t you dare forget the sundae!”

She didn’t acknowledge him as her heels clicked against the floor.

Roy’s eyes slanted your way as he assessed your expression. “Don’t worry too much. I’ll draw you a map later.”

You nodded, knowing that would be useful. “Thanks.”

“Here, gimme your phone. I’ll put my number in,” he said, flipping his palm face up on the table. You scooped it from your pocket and deposited it into his hand.

“Woah, this is ancient,” he scrutinised. Roy tapped the old, small, cracked phone on the booth table. “No one is gonna snatch this, at least.”

You shrugged. “It does the job.”

You watched him drum away at the screen before your gaze trailed to the patrons that had begun to filter in. Some of them looked rough while a few wore suits. There were grumpy exchanges all around as Francine attended to them. An absent smile blossomed on your own face.

Looking back at Roy, you found that he still played with your phone. As he pointed it in your direction, it dawned on you that he’d started taking photos.

“Hey!” you protested, reaching for it. Roy yanked it back before you could.

Twisting in the chair, he held it high and threw up a peace sign. Eying the screen, you saw that he’d captured you in frame. An involuntary laugh escaped you.

He laughed too, then handed it over while beaming. “That can be your new background.”

“Uhuh,” you replied, tucking the phone away. You probably would make it your new background, just to cheer you up in the mornings.

Roy moved until he rested on his elbows. He struck you with an intense stare as he launched into interrogation mode. “Tell me how your first day went, moneybags.”

“It was good, I think.” You recounted the shift in your head, searching for the interesting parts to share. “Looks like you guys saved the day. I didn’t have to Google anything while I was there,” you praised. He nodded seriously, waiting for you to go on.

“The head librarian is a paranoiac who likes to bake,” you said. “And I’ve only met one co-worker, so I don’t know if there’s anyone else. I forgot to ask. But she’s... nice.”

Interested by your choice of words, he prompted, “‘Nice’?”

“Yeah. She says whatever she wants and she’s funnier than you.”

He harrumphed at that, kicking you under the booth.

“Ow!” you huffed, trying to get him back. Somehow, he was able to dodge every strike in the enclosed space.

“Now, now, children,” Francine interrupted, carrying the tray with your food. “If you spill this you’ll be lickin’ it right up.”

You and Roy both giggled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Thanks.”

She divided the plates and glasses between you two.

“Thank you,” you repeated.

As soon as she turned away, you shoved a fistful of fries into your mouth. Roy’s booming laugh followed. “Stop that, you uncivilised freak,” he tittered—only to do the same thing.

Once you swallowed, you asked him, “So, I know Donna’s a photographer, but what about you?”

He grew somewhat antsy with the new question. Looking down momentarily, his arms withdrew from the table and he scratched at his forearm. It took him a bit to offer an abashed, “I do youth counselling. Lotta stuff with drugs and crime.”

“Huh,” you said, giving him a curious onceover.

“What?” he demanded, watching you watch him. Could you tell he was an addict? Roy wondered. Ex, he reprimanded himself.

You gave him a soft smile. “I bet they really like you.”

“I like to think so,” he recovered, trying to feel in control of himself again. He heaved a breath before patching it over with neutrality.

“At a school?”

“Sometimes,” Roy nodded. “Mostly at the kids centre.”

He chewed his food at a slow pace, hoping he hadn’t made things awkward. He was relieved when he observed no real change in your demeanour.

“Can I see it sometime?” you asked, desire building in your gut to explore Gotham. There had to be more good people to meet and things to experience.

“Sure,” Roy agreed. He looked over to the counter as one of the cooks topped their banana split with a bounty of whipped cream. His smile widened and he let out a dreamy noise. “That looks good as shit,” he said as he pointed to it.

Your eyes followed. It was God damn humungous.

Roy met your disbelief with a maniacal sound. “We'll knock it back halfsies, no problems,” he insisted.

You sunk into the cushioned seat, knowing a bellyache awaited you.

After you’d downed too much ice cream and could barely move, Roy pulled out his car keys.

“C’mon,” he grunted, tugging you from your seat.

You moaned. “That was one of your worst ideas yet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, towing you out the door. He didn’t even bother to wave to Francine tonight.

He led you to a rust-orange pick-up truck and climbed into the front seat. With a dramatic shake of his arm, he urged you to get in. You heaved the door open, trying to grapple your way up. Thankfully, Roy threw his hand over the console to grab yours. He helped you into the cab. Regret filled you wholeheartedly when the movement upset your insides.

“Shit,” you said with a groan, a hand on your stomach. “I might puke.”

He eyed you through slits. “Not in my truck,” Roy warned.

“You deserve it,” you said, smushing your face into the seat.

At your request, he dropped you near the motel. You were glad he didn’t ask any questions about it. Maybe another day you’d tell him, but right now...

Ugh.

By the time you were tucked into bed, belly slightly less bloated, Roy had sent you the promised map. It was Gotham, professionally laid out, but he’d scribbled over it in different colours. Red for bad, green for safe before dark, purple for fun, along with some other nonsensical comments.

The diner had been circled with ‘Puke Central’ written above it.

You thanked him with a snort.

Back against the bed, you shivered even with a blanket wrapped around you. You’d done your best to cocoon yourself inside as you gnawed on a protein bar and an apple, one in each hand. You felt the juice dribble and the crumbs scratch at your legs.

Unexpectedly, your phone buzzed from atop the bedside table. With a groan, you remembered where it was. Putting the bar aside, you threw an arm up against the wood, feeling your way to it. Instead, you accidentally slammed your fingers into the device which sent it tumbling into your head.

Ow. That was going to bruise. You rubbed at the bump in frustration before picking the phone off the floor.

NW: How’s it hanging?

Nightwing was checking in again. You hummed to yourself, unsure what to make of his motivations.

YOU: I got a job

YOU: So I can pay u back

NW: No need))

The response made you queasy. You didn’t like owing him.

NW: I paid 4 the motel 4 another week BTW. Just in case!

Your frown deepened. His kindness had been on your mind on repeat, cementing your worries. Why? What do you want? Are you watching me?—

YOU: What’s in this for you?

You’d sent the text before you really thought it through. Shit, that was stupid and ungrateful. You decided to add more.

YOU: Sorry. Someone told me Gothamites aren’t usually so helpful

NW: Unfortunately, they’re right

Now you definitely didn’t know what to say.

You shelved the conversation, allowing a different thought to take over. You’d been to work three days this week and done little else. What was next for you?

Retrieving some scrap paper and a pen that you’d stolen from the library, you decided to list the things you wanted to buy when you could afford to.

A laptop might be useful. A new, warm jumper. Food. Your stomach grumbled at that one. A fluffy pillow, you sighed, thinking of your future space.

Your phone tore you from your homely daydream. It was bizarre enough to meet a vigilante; even more so that he kept in touch.

NW: Been in any trouble?

YOU: No) U talk to red?

NW: No((

Your version of sympathy was to send him back a sad face. You sighed, wanting to smack yourself upside the head, though you remembered you’d already injured yourself once today.

Suddenly, a shadow past the window made you freeze. Immediate panic settled in as it became obvious someone hovered on the doorstep.

There was a knock.

You could text Nightwing about it, but you’d be dead by the time he got here.

They knocked again.

Slowly, you stood. You didn’t drop the blanket. At least if you died it wouldn’t be cold and undignified. You shuffled to the door and opened it with bated breath.

Only to find an entirely normal-looking postman standing there, eying you. His weight shifted from one leg to the other. “I don’t usually deliver to motels, but...” He held out a card to you.

Hesitantly, you took it from him. You looked down. It was in fact addressed to your room. “Um. Thanks,” you said softly.

He nodded. “You oughta get dressed next time someone comes a’knockin’, ya know,” the man warned. “It’s dangerous out here. Don’t go tempting fate, ya know.”

You frowned at him, wondering if fate was tempting him. “Thanks,” came your flat reply. Then you took a step back and slammed the door in his face. Asshole.

Still leant against the frame, you scanned the postcard. The front was a beautiful photo of what you assumed was the New York skyline at dusk. Turning it over, you noticed the only address included was yours. The message was written in your native language:

Hi honey,

Hope you are staying safe. We miss you lots.

P is getting into so much trouble.

The handwriting changed there.

She is full of lies.

Anyway, you would like the trouble ;)

We will see you soon. I promise. Hang in there.

Love W & P.

Your heart swelled.

You held it to your chest as tears washed the food scraps from your face.

Neon green and red strip lights blinked theatrically along every wall and crevice in the Beet Street Arcade. Each game had its own colourful, compelling glow. The wicked brightness somehow managed to outrun the pitch-black that swallowed the floor. Kids raced about the hall, waving their prizes around or shouting about whose turn it was next, all while bumping into other strangers. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy swept past you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek on its way.

It left you disoriented, although you’d long since decided it was in a good way.

You weren’t sure if you’d been here for five hours or five minutes, but it was a welcome relief from the monotony of fear and uncertainty you’d been living in. Even if the games took more of your money than the tokens they spat out. It didn’t matter, you’d had your first pay day!

You let out another whoop of encouragement for Donna as she absolutely destroyed the whack-a-mole machine.

Jesus Christ, you thought, watching her biceps flex as she frantically smashed at the bopping animatronics. She was excellent, but you were determined to be better. Your hands itched at your sides as you waited for your turn.

This weekend she’d decided to show you around outer Gotham. First up had been the Diamond District. Not that the borough name conjured much beyond wealth to you, but it sounded fun. You were happy to oblige her and spend time outside of your room, and preferably not in some kind of a hostage situation.

Donna whined when the machine made a sad noise and flashed GAME OVER. It started to vomit out her winnings. It kept going. And going. And going.

What the hell?

You laughed, watching the tokens all pile up at her feet. “You’re complaining about that?”

She pouted sourly. “I want a good prize.”

You bumped her aside with your hip. “Well, let me have a go.”

She began to babble about form techniques as you picked up the hammer. “Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, waving her off. “Don’t distract me!”

To your annoyance, you finished with slightly less tokens but did your best not to look sullen. Donna remained triumphant with your failure. You tried to flick her as she danced around you, however she easily jumped out the way of every attack. You sighed loudly, making sure she knew how discontent you were.

She just grinned before telling you she was going to get some food. “You want?” she asked.

“No,” you grumbled with your arms crossed. Donna rolled her eyes at you before prancing off.

The liminal feeling of the space was broken when your eyes landed on a hulk of a man in red.

It morphed into a more neutral, slightly confused expression when his body language changed. Like he was talking to someone that you couldn’t see. He lifted a hand to his helmet, as if reaching for the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He turned away from whatever had bothered him with his head hung.

Maybe he had one of those Bluetooth ear-things?

The moment you took a step forward, he slunk away. Red glided down a passageway of games and out of sight. You didn’t know what possessed you to follow.

You skirted around the other side of the racing car machines, taking two steps at a time in order to match his hasty strides to the exit. To your own disbelief, you darted around the last game and skid into his path.

Abruptly, he came to a stop but his armour grazed you. He reeled back and matched his height to yours, meeting your expectant gaze. He was only a little taller than you, you noted.

“Are you running from me, Red?”

You realised how close you were then; you hadn't meant to take such an aggressive stance. He bristled because of it. He was probably ready to throw you out of the way like he’d done to—

“You don’t want to see me,” he said, stiffly. “And maybe I’d rather not see you.”

You couldn’t stop the amused twitch of your lips. Nonetheless, you took a step back, giving him some space. His posture relaxed a fraction as you graced him with that tiny offering.

“I have all the time in the world for my saviour,” you mused. You waited for him to knock your dumbass out.

With a grunt, Red tried to side-step you. “Move,” he ordered. Unfortunately for him, you copied his stance annoyingly, blocking him in.

“Hey,” you reached out, although dropped your hand at the last second as you remembered Nightwing’s attempt to touch him. “Are we in trouble?” you pressed, concern coating your tone.

His chin lifted from your frozen arm to your face. “No,” he warbled. He regarded you carefully for a long moment. “I’m just... checking in.”

You swallowed the anxiety that filled the cavity of your chest. “The kids?”

He didn’t reply and you hated it. He still surveyed you. It felt like he had taken a paring knife to your brain and turned it into an apple slinky.

With a sigh, you moved out of his way, wanting to stray from his observant gaze. You muttered an, “Okay,” shuffling another step.

“You better not be here alone.”

Arms crossed, you spun around. You didn’t like the implication. “Why? You don’t take personal calls?”

“You don’t have protective custody money, sweetheart,” Red snorted. The noise sounded almost as odd as—

Sweetheart? It made you pause. That was new.

But the moment you felt him start withdrawing, you scrambled to say something to cover the awkwardness you both projected. Narrowing your eyes, you pretended this wasn’t weird. “How would you know?”

“You’d be at the casino gambling it if you did,” he said matter-of-factly. He had a point. Although he’d shrunk back, he stayed put.

You hummed. “So, no taxi rides?”

“No.”

Silence fell over the two of you. What the hell did you even talk about with a masked vigilante?

You tugged at your sleeve, pathetically acknowledging how you were wasting his time. “Do you ever play?” you blurted out then, throwing your arms out towards the arcade games.

His head tilted and he moved weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Sometimes. When the kids beg,” he said quietly. “Keeps ‘em out of trouble.”

A soft smile spread across your face. Even if he beat the shit out of people, at least the children were excluded from it. From what you’d heard so far, caution was necessary around this man.

“What if—?” You were about to challenge him to a match of something when you felt the atmosphere change and the words died on your tongue.

Red Hood’s head raised. It was so impeccably slight that you almost missed it, but he definitely looked over your shoulder. Instinctually, you turned around, wanting to know what had caught his attention.

There was Donna, not far off, clutching her popcorn and cotton candy. She wore a frown, forehead creased as she stared the two of you down. You looked back to see that Red had disappeared. You should have expected it. That was such a superhero thing to do.

You walked back over to her, spirits a little dampened.

“Cute costume, huh?” she asked, though it sounded stilted. Her steely eyes settled on you, searching for something.

“Yeah. These kids are crazy talented,” you agreed, unsure if that was the right thing to say. You tried for a smile and then reached for some of the pink fluff. “Thanks for sharing!”

“Hey! You said you didn’t want any!” Donna cried, pulling the cotton candy away from your reach.

“Well, I lied,” you said plainly, trying to grab some more. You argued that, “You have enough to share.”

“You’re as bad as Roy,” she said as she held it up high. “God, I’ll just buy you one! I’ll buy you two if you stop it.”

“It just tastes better when it’s stolen.”

You beamed at her scoff. She kept the food above your head.

Wind swirled past the locked windows of the dark safehouse; the small, blinking dot on the Wi-Fi router the only illumination.

Jason ripped the covers off the bed as he awoke. His trembling was not the fault of Gotham’s frost. The sound of the crowbar being dragged across the rough ground continued to ring in his ears long after he shook off sleep.

Clank.

Closer and closer.

Purposeful, letting him know what came next.

“Oh, the anticipation!” Joker had wailed.

His grip tightened against the mattress. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep—to give in to the nightmares—but he was just so tired. Jason’s eyes were scratchy and dry; he’d closed them in search of relief.

He bit back bile, trying to swallow the agonising sensations that flooded him. Shifting, he became aware of the shooting pain that ran down the outside of his legs. It was like being jabbed with a hot poker—something he’d know about.

Jason tugged at his curls, fighting the urge to give in. His face felt hot with unshed tears. His nerves burned and for once it overpowered the marled mark on his cheek. He bitterly wondered if this was normal burnout or PTSD related.

Call Roy, his brain screamed to drown out the metal clangs.

Roy knew.

He knew the pangs of death come and gone.

He could talk to him.

Jason didn’t call.

He just stared into the darkness. The sounds of his own demise repeated relentlessly.

He kneaded his thigh muscles, attempting to soothe the searing pain. Enough so he could curl back into himself.

Eventually, his eyes drifted to the window. The little twinkling lights of the city that brought him comfort.

And below them, the endless crime, came the sour thought.

He wasn’t sure the Pit fixed anything, really.

Dick carried a persistent feeling of unease throughout the entire day. It didn’t stop when he finished work, or after his patrol, seeing the Titans, or a frighteningly hot shower. It chased him into the next day, too.

When he awoke the morning after, he knew he needed to do something to quell it. Even if it was only for his sanity. He wanted to get Jason a gift, he decided. He wasn’t sure if Jason still read these days, but he used to love doing that, so it was worth a try, right?

It was just a bonus that it meant he could check in on you in person.

Dick swooped the aisle like a man on a mission. His baby blues affixed to you with precision, tracing the careful movements of your hands as you re-shelved books. You drifted in between the rows with a practised flow, seeming at home with the monotony of it.

He felt bad for ruining it, especially with how it took only fifteen seconds to disrupt your concentration. Rotating from the rows of spines, you eyed him distrustfully. Your fingers clenched around the novel you attended to. For a split second, you looked across the library in search of your colleagues.

“Hi,” Dick spoke then, wanting to put your fear to rest. He took a couple of steps forward. “I’m looking for a book.”

At those words, you slowly loosened. “Oh,” you said, moving to nudge the object into place. “Sorry, you’ll have to go to the desk for that. I just put books away.”

One of his most endearing smiles snuck onto his face. “But you look like just the kind of person that can help me.”

You turned around, brows raised in bewilderment. For some reason, the gesture reminded him of his biological family, however faint a memory. Really, the more he looked at you, the more he found an odd familiarity in your being.

“Sorry?”

Why couldn’t he pinpoint your accent? Dick wondered offhandedly. There was something about it—the way you inflected certain tones...

Sheepishly, he scratched at his nape. “Sorry, I mean—well, I need a peace-offering for my brother, and I feel like you might have some good ideas.”

It took a moment, but amusement crept onto your features. “You know you have to return them, right?” you asked funnily.

Dick laughed. “Don’t worry, I know this isn’t a gift shop.”

You nodded to yourself, running your fingers over the shelves as you deliberated his conundrum.

In an attempt to persuade you, he said, “Any suggestions? Read anything good lately?”

You glanced at him before rummaging through the cart. You passed over a novel. Dick had to withhold a snort as he saw the title My Sister, The Serial Killer.

You mistook it for apprehension. “It’s not as serious as it sounds.”

Dick looked up. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

You shot him a small smile. “Remember to bring it back,” you teased as you resumed the task at hand.

Nervously, Dick dropped off the book at Jason’s latest haunt. Once he’d returned to the Manor, he stared at his phone, drumming his fingers over the screen. He contemplated what to send, despite how his most recent texts had gone ignored.

DICK: Hi

It was a simple in. But when he got no response, he prayed that Jason hadn’t changed his number yet again. He sent more messages, reprimanding himself meanwhile.

DICK: Hope UR OK

DICK: Did U get my surprise?

DICK: LMK if U like it

Shockingly, Jason replied.

JAY: You mean the trash on my doorstep?

The corner of Dick’s mouth twitched, but he still sighed.

DICK: :(

DICK: The library rec’d it

His brother said nothing more. He felt frustrated, like his small amount of hope had been dashed.

DICK: Are U coming to Donna’s bday?

JAY: No.

A few minutes passed before Dick’s phone sounded again.

JAY: When?

He grinned. That was something!

DICK: 2 wks. Sat nite at the manor

DICK: She would luv 2 C U

Dick didn’t wait for a reply he knew wouldn’t arrive.

But he felt better, finally. Like the world could keep on spinning and he wouldn’t lose it.

“Hey, someone’s asking for you.”

Dread filled you as you heard those words. You inched around to face Tia. “I’m not allowed to help, remember?” you tried to brush it off lightly.

“I think they know you,” Tia explained with a sly smile.

“Stop it,” you groaned at the hidden meaning, pushing past her. You exited the staff room and found Donna waiting at the front desk.

“Hey,” she smiled. You greeted her with your own.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised.

She held up a paper bag and gave it a shake. “I brought us lunch to share.”

“Oh,” you said, touched and slightly taken aback. Tia watched from behind with her beady, calculating eyes. You shot her a glare over your shoulder.

“Yum,” you said then as you passed the divider and noticed the logo on the bag. “Do you want to eat outside?” you suggested, hoping to escape Tia’s nosiness.

A knowing grin skittered across her face. “There’s a modicum of sun out there. Of course I do.”

A quick but quiet tapping sounded throughout the small safehouse. Jason sat stiff in a wheeled chair at his version of the Bat-Computer, scanning through potential locations to stake out.

Irritation took over as he was nicked out of his research when his desk vibrated. He tried to ignore it, intent on finishing the task at hand. Lives depended on it. However, his phone continued to blow up. With a frustrated huff, he took a peek.

ROY: U want a bite?

ROY: I’m going to that coffee shop on the corner. The real dodgy one, uno?

ROY: Come if u feel like it

ROY: They make a good ass croissants tho

It was Roy, instead of Dick, sending him a million texts for once. His stomach betrayed him by grumbling as he read the messages over again.

Jason looked back at the computer. His eyes watered, feeling the strain of focusing on it all day. The room was dark apart from the screen and a dim lamp. Alfred’s reprimands were clear in his head because of the inadequate working conditions.

He neatened up the bunch of scribbled-on paper that lay scattered beside the keyboard. Carefully, he stared at them again, hoping that something new would jump out. He needed to keep going—to find answers for the street rats of Gotham. Far too many children had gone missing recently, with very little trace left behind. The witness accounts were shoddy too.

The guilt was eating him alive. He'd barely managed to find any leads. And meanwhile, those kids were suffering, or worse yet...

Dead. Just like he was.

Jason tugged at his hair, pulling it into his face. He rubbed it into his eyes and skin, using the sensation to distract from the surmounting aggravation and sorrow. If Donna were here she would have scolded him for disregarding the skin care routine she’d set out a long time ago.

The reasonable part of his brain argued that he could run this past Roy for more ideas. But he didn’t want to go out. He felt embarrassed at the thought of needing help; at seeking a conversation with someone besides a barista or a mixed-up civilian.

Jason’s mind drifted to you for a moment, of how your encounters seemed inexplicably different. He saw plenty of Gothamites on the regular, but you...

His knuckles met the brand on his cheek, digging into it. Unease rocked his stomach. He didn’t like this line of thinking. He wanted to slam dunk it in the trash can next to his bed.

You were lonely and looking for friends in all the wrong places, he justified. He needed to make that clear next time.

Jason’s bleary gaze drifted back to the phone. He was a sucker for a croissant.

A decrepit excuse for a café had been shoved into one the backstreets of the Narrows a long time ago. The roof was half caved in, with asbestos walls peeling, but none of the patrons ever seemed bothered. It was a perfectly uncouth place for criminals and those criminally-adjacent to meet without prying eyes. The sound of constant chatter and clinking glasses covered any potential scheming.

“You got something planned for tonight?” Roy asked, appraising Jason’s movements. His friend was hunched into himself, shying away every time he thought someone looked at him. He still wasn’t good with crowds.

“No.”

“Liar.” Roy’s mouth curved sadly, watching his friend’s face twitch in annoyance. “You need help?” he prodded, leaning onto the table. It wobbled. “I’m up for anything.” He mostly just wanted to see Jason and figure out how he was coping.

Jason folded his arms and rested deeper into the chair, forcing more space between them. He kept his eyes downcast as he said, “No,” again.

“C’mon,” Roy groaned. He wanted so badly to call him ‘Jaybird’ or any nickname, but bit his tongue. He knew not to push Jason’s tenuous boundaries too far. It was a miracle they were meeting unmasked in a dark corner off Fuck Knows Lane.

He draped himself across the table dramatically, wanting to pester Jason into revealing more. Jason just met his begging look coolly, one eyebrow raised.

Stalemate.

Roy peeked out from under his eyelashes, meeting his vigilant gaze. He propped his chin onto his arms with a defeated puff. “Tell me something, at least? What have you been up to?”

Jason seemed to have an internal panic at that line of questioning. He was good at hiding it but Roy had known him too long. Jason breathed out a little heavier, fists clenching. Dark bruises faded into the dimples of his knuckles, Roy observed.

Jason considered telling him about you. The stranger that couldn’t seem to help but stumble into his path consistently. It reminded him that he hadn’t seen you in a while, actually. He wasn’t entirely convinced it was a good thing either, but maybe you’d found Nightwing to bother instead.

Roy saw the loud thoughts that plagued him and looked away, giving him the room to methodically work through it.

Finally, Jason spoke lowly, “Some of the kids at the arcade told me they’ve been going missing.”

“Shit,” Roy perked up. “It’s not organs again, is it?”

“Dunno,” he glumly answered. “I can’t—” He made a noise, cutting himself off. “Can’t find much.”

“Alright,” Roy said, noticing his frustration. “Show me what you got?”

Jason fixed him with a stony stare, scrutinising his interested posture. Roy returned it with a smile, hoping to placate him.

Eventually, Jason held out his phone. Roy scrolled through the documents, mulling over the notes.

“You thinking the Bowery?” he mused. Jason was mute; just kept his eyes on him, waiting. “Let’s check it out then,” Roy said, handing the phone back.

Jason stayed quiet. After a few more moments of contemplative silence, he gave a stiff nod in agreement. This was what he needed, he reminded himself.

Slowly, he pulled the small plate with the pastry closer, satisfied enough to take a few bites in front of Roy. However, he grew annoyed as Roy’s grin bloomed wider. Jason was going to stuff the croissant into that gob of his and choke him with it if he didn't quit smiling all happy soon.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #dc comics #dc #tchogc*

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spencerspecifics · 3 years ago

Note

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

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Pride

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Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

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skylarstark4826 · 7 months ago