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beskarberry · 4 years ago

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Krayt’s Teeth

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 3 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead of you, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.7k

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, killing in self defense, headcanon angst, FLUFF, sensory deprivation, body worship, oral sex (f receiving).

A/N: These are my headcanons regarding Mandalorian culture in terms of sex, I didn’t find much lore on it so whether it’s accurate or not idk but I like them and that’s all that matters! Enjoy~

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You could have slept forever, even on that horrible little cot you were so comfortable that you could have been out for days, but the only one on it was you. You did’t know when Mando got up from the tiny space you both shared through the night, or how he managed to get out from your tangled bodies without waking you up. You opened your eyes to tiny green baby hands tugging at your fingers.

“Hey booger, is it time for breakfast? Where’s your papa?” You started to sit up, but the horrible sticky mess underneath you made you reluctant to move, a mix of passion and pain from the day before. “Yikes. I’m gonna run all his water out if I have to keep using the fresher. Come on, let’s get scrubbed up.” The baby gibbered excitedly at you, though you weren’t sure how much of what you said he actually understood. You scooped him into your arms without looking back at the sad little cot and all its stains. “You’re water proof, right?”

The ship’s engines were rumbling away, so you guessed tin man was up in the cockpit flying you towards your next bounty. Or Nevarro. You would have to find Mr. Mystery later, the grossness that was you had to be dealt with. Between you and the child your shower took forever, the two of you getting water and soap bubbles from top to bottom. You didn’t care. You had been on Tatooine for months without having a real shower, being consigned to the sonic freshers that vibrated the sand off of the moisture farmer’s bodies; and this was the second real shower you’d gotten to have in twice as many days. You spent a good deal of time trying to get your chatty friend to hold still long enough to be dried off, the little fart squealing with joy every time you went for him with the towel.

An ordeal later you were both fresh and presentable, but your host was still nowhere to be seen, though the ugly sheets had thankfully disappeared from view. The ship was quiet now, without the engine running you knew you had to be back on the ground, and you could hear a distinct hum of activity coming through the walls. Space port? He flew us into town? The thought was replaced immediately with a rich, savory smell coming through the air vents: FOOD! Your gut grumbled loud enough to resonate through the cabin and earn you a confused look from the baby. When was the last time you really ate? You’d been living on ration packs for the last couple of days. That was going to change right now.

“Ya hungry buddy? Me too! Maybe that’s where your dad is, hmm?” Grabbing your old backpack and hooking the baby under your arm you started punching buttons on the wall to get the door open, sending walls sliding and cabinets opening before you got one of the access ramps open. Bright double sunlight nearly blinded you, and on reflex you covered the baby’s giant googly eyes. It took a moment for your own to adjust to the radiant light of the Tatooine morning, and the smell of cooking food hit you like a ton of bricks, making your mouth water. As your eyes adjusted you were able to take in your surroundings: though it was bright outside you were parked low inside a maintenance bay, the walls of which soared high above you; littered with engine parts and humming with droid activity. Sound was the last input your hungry brain could process, but when it did you didn’t like what you heard. The sounds of an argument echoed around the hangar, high and shrill.

“I already told you, you can’t park here! You’re bad for business!”

“I just need to park here long enough to get supplies.”

“Well you’re gonna have to pay up, Mando! I’m not running a charity here! You got credits for supplies you got credits for parking! Up front this time!”

Oh no.

Of all the mechanics and docking hangars in Mos Eisley he had to pick this one. The fireball of a woman barely came up to your partner’s chest, but she made up for it with unbridled fury; and the giant cooked animal leg she was swinging around like a club between bites made her look even more formidable. She noticed you coming down the ramp and stopped grilling your comrade long enough to glare daggers through your skull.

“Oh NO! No nope nuh uh! You can turn right back around and get back on that ship, missy! I knew it! I knew you were bad for business, Mando! What’re you doing running around with her? I hope she’s your bounty because she’s your problem!”

“Peli.” Your words were cold as ice, but the squirming baby in your arms took all the malice out of your stance. He wiggled until you set him down, and he ran towards the mechanic with open arms.

“Baby! You can stay but your dad’s gotta take the mean lady somewhere else! She cheats at sabacc!”

“You lost fair and square, Peli! Try playing a better hand next time!”

“Ladies please!” Mando cut through your bickering, holding his arms up between the two of you like he was trying to corner a pair of wild blurgs. “If I let the child stay with you for the day, will you let me park the Razor Crest here? Just for a couple hours?”

Peli bounced the child on her hip, offering him a bite of her breakfast. The baby squealed happily while he sank his little teeth into the mighty snack, though the size of it comically dwarfed his itty bitty hands. “I’ll tell you what, you let me keep him and then maybe I’ll let you park here in a week.” Mando cocked his helmet at her with disdain and she huffed loudly, “Well if you put it that way, I guess you can park here, but you gotta put five hundred credits down, and not a cent less!”

Mando reeled, stabbing his hands to his hips with indignation. “Five hund- absolutely not! What am I going to buy our-” You interrupted his tirade with a hand on his shoulder, waving a slew of credits in front of his eyes. Peli snatched them out of your hand, fanning them out like cards to count them.

“Who’d you cheat these outta?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You leaned casually against your metal man, eyeing Peli with a smug look on your face. “Let’s go, Mando. Bye baby green bean, have fun with Auntie Cheats-at-Sabacc!” You spun him around by the hand and dragged him towards the exit, ignoring the insults being slung at your back. “We are getting breakfast and that’s final!”

The Mandalorian allowed you to pull him along a few feet before grinding his heels into the sand, shaking his head. “You have to stay here.”

Now it was your turn for sassy head tilts. “I just paid for your parking, buckethead, that makes me in charge and I’m hungry! I’ll buy you breakfast too if you want.” He didn’t budge, fixing you with that intense stare of his and grabbing you by the shoulders.

“You are still being hunted. Mos Eisley isn’t safe for you.”

Ah.

You knew you could look after yourself, and he himself had compared you to a ferocious rancor just yesterday. You groaned loudly, “Shit balls of hell. But dad, I’m huuunngry!” The man bristled at your paternal harassment, sighing heavily and letting his helmeted head fall to the side like the world was ending. He glanced around the hangar exit, his shiny beskar snapping to each object of interest until he located a protocol droid corpse that was missing everything from the waist down. He strode over to it and held it down with one boot, yanking it by the head until it popped off. He began prying the droid’s vocorder apart at the mouth, pulling it wide until the droids face plate broke off with a snap! Tossing the rest of the logic processing unit to the ground, he held the face plate up to the light, inspecting the clarity of its photo receptor casings. He bent back down to the junk pile and fished out a stray wire to thread through the ruined audio processors, then tossed the finished creation to you.

“Put that on.”

You turned the makeshift mask over in your hands to check for sharp edges before you pressed it to your face. The bug eyes on the front were dirty, but you could see well enough. Before you could clean them more thoroughly you felt the weight of fabric on your head, his cloak now worn as your own. The thought of how you must look made you giggle. “You make me take my clothes off, now you want me to put clothes on. It never ends with you, Mando. Next you’ll be forging me beskar. Now can we eat something, please?” Without a word the armored man turned on his heel and walked out the hangar exit. I’ll take that as a yes.

Mos Eisley buzzed with life, people and animals and things you couldn’t explain made their way up and down the bustling streets. The smell of food led you to a vendor selling something that could have been a root vegetable, covered in herbs and spices and grilled to perfection. You couldn't wait, all thoughts of self-preservation went out the window as you hauled ass to the stand, waving two fingers in the air. When you had both of your prizes in hand you stuffed the savory veggie under your mask, sighing contentedly at the taste of real honest-to-Maker food. “Hey tin man, I hope you like... whatever this-” You turned to offer your partner something to eat, but he had disappeared from the crowd. “Alright... more for me.”

Taking a newspaper from the vendor you wrapped the extra snack up tight and threw it in your pack for later, continuing to chow down on your own. You would find Mando eventually, and you had credits to spend. You had held onto your hush-money for months to avoid suspicion, but now it was burning a hole in your pocket. Wandering the streets of Mos Eisley from merchant to merchant you began accumulating a small hoard of supplies, ranging from bacta to hand tools, and food. Whatever you could get your hands on that would survive hyperspace when you inevitably left this fucking dirtball for good; though you still weren’t convinced that you wouldn’t be making that flight in carbonite. You picked out new clothes and underwear, a much-needed bedroll, and some soft bantha-wool blankets. Something further down the marketplace caught your eye, and you made your way to the fancier items that glittered in the double daylight. You didn’t wear jewelry yourself, a poor choice of attire for a hunter, but the way the trinkets caught the light still made you wistful. Your hidden eyes danced over the glittering treasures; jewels and geodes that had been found deep in the sands and polished to a radiant shine.

You spotted something opalescent at the end of one table and found a pair of krayt teeth, each about the size of your palm. They had been sanded to a smooth, flat finish and carved with intricate desert patterns. The backs of them had tiny fittings that could be sewn on as buttons, or pulled off to reveal magnets. Something about their shape seemed familiar, though you couldn’t imagine why in that moment. You purchased the unique pieces anyway, something to remind you that even the harshest of places could hold hidden beauty. After a while you had so much junk piled in your arms that you could barely see over it, and tin man was nowhere to be found. You spotted a courier droid and paid for it to deliver your treasures back to Hanger 3-5, though you kept the pricey teeth in your pockets. With your arms free you started looking for your missing comrade.

The streets were busy with people, you would have to get somewhere out of the way in order to scan the crowds. Your eyes went from shimmer to shimmer, looking for his reflective chrome dome. “Big jerk,” you mused to yourself “‘Mos Eisley’s not saaafe...’ If he’s so worried then where the hell is he? Bah!” The scratched-up photoreceptor casings of your mask made it a challenge to see through the crowd, and you took a moment to adjust the iris apertures so you wouldn’t have to keep squinting into the double sunshine when you felt a hand on your back. Finally. “Mando, where have you-”

“Mando? Whos’sis man-do? Nah sssweetheart, I think you got me confused wi’ sssomeone elssse.” The slithering voice in your ear made your blood run cold. Not Mando! You rocketed your elbow backwards, connecting with the gut of the stranger on your back with an -oof! The hand let go long enough for you to make a run for it, and you tore off down the streets of the busy spaceport, smashing into bystanders in your wake. You cast a quick look behind you to see a large reptilian body flying after you, brownish scales catching the reflection of the noonday suns. Though you had your blaster, the risk of hitting a civilian was too great, so running would have to do. You were thankful for the courier droid that had freed your hands just minutes before as you barreled down the busy streets.

Market stalls flew past you, your boots kicking up sand and dust. The mask on your face, as dirty as it was, kept the debris from your eyes as you raced through the sunburnt city. You had to lose this fucker and fast. You turned down an alley, left, right, another right, leaping over supply crates and low fences like a lothcat. You turned to see if you had lost your chaser, breath heaving and heart pounding. Behind you was clear, but you took your eyes off your path for just a second too long, and were taken by surprise when a heavy weight fell on you from above.

The Trandoshan had gone over the low sandstone roofs, chasing you easily through the alleyways of Mos Eisley while you were none the wiser. He pinned you under him quickly, ripping your blaster off your hip and pointing your own barrel in your face. “Tha’ss enough, princesss! Nice n’ quietlike now. You gonna make me a pretty penny you are.” The lizard’s words dripped with metaphorical venom, though you were sure by the look of those fangs that real venom was probably right behind. “Ahm gonna cart yer arse right back to th’ Guild’n I’ll become th’ most famous hunter in th’ galax -urk!” With a sickening gag the hunter above you grew a shiny new fang in the back of his throat before falling down dead on top of you, a vibroblade protruding from back of his skull.

“Took you long enough!” You hollered at your chrome companion, who was stepping forward to kick the carcass off of you. “Where the fuck have you been? Getting your rifle polished?” He pulled you to your feet, handing you your blaster while readjusting the mask on your face. You swatted at his fussing hands, but when you looked at him you were shocked to see not one but three blinking bounty fobs dangling from his belt. On the ground by the dead lizard was a fourth, flashing rapidly in the sand.

“I told you you weren’t safe! We need to leave right now.” You were barely able to grab the remaining bounty fob while you were being tugged away by your allied hunter. He had a death grip on your hand, pulling you along behind him towards what you hoped was the docking hangar. You would have to cross the main street to get there, and as the pair of you plowed across the dusty, busy road there came shouts from either side. More hunters, fucking Guild! You didn’t have a single second to assess them before you were lead through an alley on the other side of the street. These were darker than the ones you had run through on the west side of town, and shady bodies moved quickly out of the way of your living locomotive.

At the end of a narrow alley you both burst through a door leading into an abandoned building. The darkness was almost worse than the blinding sunlight, you would need time for your eyes to adjust but the Mandalorian had enough sensory detection equipment that he ghosted through the ruinous building with ease; never once letting go of your hand as you tripped and stumbled through the dark. The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

“There! Get down!” Mando pointed at a pile of rubble, probably big enough to hide behind, but that’s not how you handled business.

“Fuck you! I’m not going down without a fight!” You pulled your blaster out and aimed at the incoming assailants. He growled at you and stepped closer, putting his body in between you and the door. The reptilian hunters burst from the darkness of the warehouse, firing rapid shots of blaster charges that bounced off of Mando’s beskar. You fired over his protective arm, taking out the first one and tripping up the second, who fell over his cohorts limp body. Mando took shot after shot to the chest, reeling with each impact. His other arm cocked back and shot out, sending a wall of fire into the last of the Guild’s hired guns.

Both of you were panting, shaking and sweating from flying through Mos Eisley, but the sound of blaster fire would draw attention and you knew there was no time to waste. You stepped over the incinerated corpse, making sure the fob it carried was melted, the second body still squirmed in the dirt, and you weren’t going to let it get a second chance, firing your blaster through it’s scaly skull. You picked the remaining two fobs and stuffed them in your pockets, making a run for it back through the building with Mando right behind, the blaze of his flamethrower lighting your way.

You took a different door out of the building and were relieved to see the words ‘HANGAR 3-5′ painted in bright blue Basic straight ahead. You skittered through the entrance, rounding the corner and dropping down behind the edges of the hangar doorway. Mando did the same on the other side, both of you pointing your blasters back towards Mos Eisley’s dark heart. Bootsteps behind you made you snap around, and you nearly shot your mechanically inclined host.

“You kids have fun out there?” Peli stood over where you were hunched, and you lowered your blaster to the ground. At her feet your little buddy was holding onto her pant leg, making big puppy dog eyes at you. You looked over to Mando to make sure there weren’t any more coming, but he still held his blaster out ahead. After a few tense seconds he lowered it down until it was back in its’ holster, then pulled himself to his feet.

“We can’t stay any longer, we’re putting you in danger. Time to go, kiddo.” His charred beskar still shimmered when he bent down to pick up his adopted son, who chirped with delight. “Thank you for watching him.”

“He can stay any time! Oh and thanks for all the snacks you made that droid bring me!” Peli called after the three of you as your party quickly boarded the Razor, making you turn around and stick your tongue out at her. She happily flipped you off and started closing the ground entrance to the bay, letting you board the ship uninterrupted. Fortunately, the courier droid’s delivery had made it to the ship, though you couldn't help but notice a few of your most carefully picked snacks had been taken as collateral. Fucking Peli. As much as she infuriated you, there wasn’t another person on all of Tatooine that you would rather play sabacc with.

The old rust bucket rumbled to life, taking off into the midafternoon sky and pointed towards the stars. Finally! Bye motherfucker. The hazy atmosphere of the outer rim planet fell away below you until the light of the bright yellow world illuminated the Crest’s stern. The pre-Imperial scrapheap started howling with noise, and you were almost thrown to the deck when it blasted into the safety of hyper space.

Your heart was still racing and you struggled to catch your breath. Once you had yourself in order you started busying yourself with putting the supplies away, filling the food larder to capacity. The child was contentedly telling you about his day with his auntie in his cute baby gibberish, and you picked him up off the ground to give him a much needed hug, pushing your stolen identity onto the top of your head to give him kisses. You almost wanted to ignore the sound of heavy armored boots hitting the floor panel under the ladder, their wearer opting to jump down from the cockpit rather than climb. You could feel the fury coming off of him as he stalked over to where you were sorting your treasures.

“You could have been hurt! I knew it was a bad idea to let you go wandering around, even with your face covered. What if they’d caught you? I picked three of them off before you even saw one!”

“I had it under control, Mando! I’m not some princess that needs you coming to her rescue at every sign of a struggle. And you don’t get to let me do anything, you don’t own me!” The man under your scrutiny paced the cabin on stiff legs with his hands on his hips, helmet snapping with rage.

“I know you can handle yourself, but I need to protect you.” He said with a huff, “And that lizard was... he had you pinned down, had his filthy, scaly claws on you... Nobody should touch you like that! What if.. what if he... I- I- didn’t like that he was...” Listening to the sound of the gears jamming in his head made you realize the ridiculous thing he was trying to say.

“Are you.. Mando are you jealous?”

“No! I- I’m.. Cyar’ika I... ”

Oh no, you don’t get to be cute right now. “I don’t know what that means, Mando! What is that, some kind of sexy little pet name you use on all the girls you take underneath of you?”

“NO! I didn’t- I would nev- I’ve never had... There’s never been- no!” Oh how you wished you could see his face, watching him flail trying to defend himself from your accusation, he was probably white as a sheet under all that armor.

“Never what, Mandalorian?”

“I’ve never had anyone in this ship before!” The Mandalorian’s confession lost steam halfway through as embarrassment and fear crept into his throat, threatening to choke him with his own secrets.

“Wait.. wait wait. Never? You’ve never had anyone in this ship or...” You started approaching him, analyzing his visor for hints of meaning. “Or you’ve never had anyone at all?” The Mandalorian stopped his pacing, but his shoulders looked like they were carrying the weight of the galaxy. His silence told you everything, and the last piece of his puzzle fell into place. “Mando...was I your first?”

“Y-yes.” His visor tilted up to you, hands fidgeting at his sides. His voice was faint and sheepish, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm you were arguing with a moment ago. Your eyes were full of questions, all racing through your mind so quickly none of them made it to your mouth. The metal man answered them all for you in one singular motion, raising his fist to knock a couple times against his beskar helmet. His creed.

“So, what, you guys aren’t allowed to have sex?”

He sighed his heavy, trademarked sigh and plopped down on the nearest supply crate with a defeated thud, cradling his head in his hands. “No it’s not that. Not... not exactly. In Mando’a the word we use is me'dinuir. It means ‘to give’, specifically to give yourself to another. And... when you give yourself away to someone-“ He turned the black gloss of his single eye up to you, “-you belong to them. That is The Way.”

The weight of his words made your blood cold. He was jealous, but not just because that other hunter had put his scaly hands on you. Everything about his attitude around you suddenly made sense, the way he had looked at you when you were presenting yourself to him that first day, why he never threw you in carbonite when he probably should have, and how he had stayed with you through the night after you nearly died hunting his bounty. His mysterious way of life decreed that giving his body to you meant that he had also given you his soul, and that made you just as important to protect as his foundling.

Mando reached out to pat the fuzzy green head of the baby you were still holding, who gibbered sleepily up at his armor plated papa. “I’m sorry to put that on you, and I’m sorry for how I acted. You’re not my bounty anymore, and I shouldn’t try to control you. I understand if you don’t want to continue with me to the next bounty. You can take whatever you want from the armory when we land next. I’m.. I’m so sorry.” The monolithic man looked so tiny now, sitting on the edge of the crate with his shoulders hunched. He reached his arms out to take his infant son from you, hugging him to his blast-burnt chest and smoothing his massive ears. "I didn’t get to thank you for washing him earlier, he smells really good.”

You desperately needed to know more, though the sight of him fawning over his sleepy son made your heart swell. “I kinda got the feeling that you were rusty when we met, but that was actually your first time? And what does that mean ‘you belong to them’? How can you belong to me? I don’t even know your name.”

"It means that I’m now sworn to protect the one that carries my soul. I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian.”

His words made you feel sick, ashamed that you had taken something so sacred from him without a second thought, but how could you have known? He could have stopped at any time, you were the one in cuffs that day, not him. No, out of trillions and trillions of sentient beings in the galaxy he chose to give himself to you, knowing full well what his heritage decreed. Why you? Arms crossed, you dug deeper. “You’ve never seen another naked body than your own?”

He shook his head. “Just... holo-vids...”

You were going to have to ask him about those later. “Nothing? You’ve at least kissed someone before though, right?”

“Kissed?”

Maker fucking help you. “Yeah you know, kissing? The thing you do with your... oh, right." You reached up and tapped him twice on the beskar. “You need your face to do it.”

He cocked his helmet at you. “Can you show me?”

The innocence of his question made you melt. Fuck you, tin can, you’re not supposed to be cute when you’re in trouble. You reached your hand out, demanding he give you his, and shyly he obeyed. You pulled his hand to your lips, unsure of how much he could actually feel through his thick leather gloves. You pressed his hand to your lips and watched his whole body snap straight. “Kiss, like that.”

He was staring at his hand like he’d never seen it before, and after a moment he pulled your locked fingers to his head, tapping his forehead with the back of your hand. “Kov’nynir, But we do it with our helmets.” At this rate you’ll be speaking Mando’a in no time. He still held your hand gently, running his thumb over your fingers. “I think I like your way better. Could... Could you do that again?”

So polite, maybe having him stuck with you wouldn’t be so bad. You pulled his hand back to you, giving him another soft kiss on the side of his thumb, and you heard the sound of his breath catching in his modulator. Your lips pressed to each of his knuckles, and then you turned his wrist to kiss his palm. “How’s that?”

“That’s amazing.”

“You like that? Watch this.” Addressing the bantha in the room would have to wait. You tugged his glove off, revealing the warm bronze skin underneath and kissed him again. The hitched breaths coming out of his modulator were honey to your ears, and you turned his wrist over to kiss his bare palm again, hunting for more sweet sounds. His body was so stiff, so tightly wound you thought he might snap. “Are you ok? Do I need to stop?”

“I- I- want to... Can... Can I try?” You nodded, your heart jumping to your throat at the thought of him removing his helmet in front of you, but instead he gently reached up to the busted droid face you still wore on your head. With a twist of a knob the armatures inside of the eye casings coiled shut, and when he slid the mask down into place you were thrown into total darkness. “Can you see?” You shook your head. “Promise?”

You sighed, long and frustrated. “I promise, dark as a sarlacc’s backside.” You were met with only silence. Then, after what felt like an eternity you heard the sliding sound of metal as the child’s pram shield slid closed, then the shuffle of armor being removed, and lastly the dull thunk of something heavy being set down on the crates. His hand found yours again, and he pressed his lips against your skin. They were hotter than you were expecting, and soft, almost plush. You understood right away why he was so rigid when you were doing the same, it was amazing. Gentle kisses made their way over the back of your hand and made heat flood through your veins. He moved slowly over each joint, following the same pattern you had shown him, then turned your hand over and kissed at your fingertips. Something fuzzy brushed along with his lips, and you imagined that he might have a mustache. The shivers that crept their way up from your captured hand knocked all the strangeness of your conversation out of your mind, but when he reached your wrist he stopped.

“Where else do you kiss at?” You nearly fainted at the sound of his unfiltered voice, a rich baritone that dripped with dark intentions and stole all the words from your mouth. You could only point with your other hand at the forearm attached to the hand he held. Again you felt his lips on your wrist, then slowly, inch by agonizing inch he made his way up your arm, each kiss slower than the last until your toes were curling in their boots. When he reached the edge of the tunic’s sleeve that hung at your elbow he paused again. “Where else?”

“Everywhere.” Your tormentor hummed at your consenting words and let go of your hand to run his palms down your clothed thighs. When he reached your knees he pulled on their joints, bidding you to bring your legs up over his lap. When you were seated on him he resumed his trek up your arm, kissing at the crease of your elbow and then upwards over your tunic until he reached your shoulder. When he got to your neck you almost buckled over, but his hands were at your back in an instant, wrapping heavily around your waist. Your own hands made their way to the nape of his neck, and your fingers found the edge of his hairline that you had felt before. To your delight you felt that the tousled curls went all the way up, and you tangled your fingers in them, exploring their softness while he explored you.

His journey led him up your neck to the base of your jaw where he nipped gently at the sensitive skin like you had done to him last night, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps from your head to your toes. When his nose bumped the edge of your mask you were suddenly aware of how silly you might look with your big bug eyes. “Can I take this thing off?” you asked in a whisper. “I won’t look.”

“I have a better Idea. Hold on tight.” You dug your hands into his shoulders and felt his arms wrap under your legs as he stood up, lifting you with such ease that you wondered if he felt your weight at all. His boots echoed through the cabin until he stopped at the other end. You hung on for dear life while he climbed the ladder with you still wrapped around his front. When you both reached the top you let yourself unwind from him and scooted on your butt over the floor, listening to the sound of him pulling himself all the way up. You remained seated as your host fussed around the flight deck, the noise of buttons pressing and switches being thrown the only input to your deprived senses.

You were only unattended for a moment, then his hands found your waist, fishing for the edge of your shirt. The tunic was pulled up and over your head, taking your mask with it, and you squeezed your eyes shut to protect his modesty; unsure of what his unconventional oath to you included in the fine print. Your diligence was rewarded with a kiss on your forehead, then down to kiss both of your closed eyes, and then lastly to your lips. The searing heat of his mouth on yours threatened to throw your eyes open, but when they fluttered all you saw was darkness. The transperisteel’s blast shielding had been closed, and the only light in the cockpit came from a handful of illuminated buttons on the dash.

He was lying over top of you on the metal floor, one arm wrapped under your neck for support. The cold decking under you was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to care, letting yourself be consumed by his kisses and becoming drunk on the scent of leather and adrenaline. The soft fuzz of his facial hair tickled slightly as he pressed into your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands went to his face, running your thumbs over his cheeks and feeling what you weren’t allowed to see. His face was scruffy but not unkempt, and the bristles went all the way from his jaw up to the bottom of the defined nose that bumped against your own. You felt the creases on the corners of his eyes, wishing you could see his smile lines and all the stories they would tell.

You kissed him back, letting your tongue glide over his plush lips and making him inhale sharply. You licked into him again, and this time you were met with his tongue as well, just the faintest touch of its tip. He hummed in your mouth, and the sound of him so close made your belly pool with heat and your kisses bolder, sending your tongue deeper into his mouth until he was almost vibrating with the sensation of you exploring something as forbidden as his human body. He mirrored you as best he could, rolling the smooth muscle over your lips and the edges of your teeth until you were both lost in each other’s taste. He pushed his forehead against yours, pulling his mouth away with frantic breaths that spread fire over your skin. “Everywhere?”

You pushed your lips against his again, giving him an ambitions ‘Mmhmm’ as an answer. His growl made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you realized where his goal was. He kissed and nipped his way down your throat, letting his tongue glide over your skin. He made his way to your breast, taking its’ tender tip between his teeth and making you gasp. He sucked at it gently, rolling his tongue around it while it grew harder for his efforts. The hand not under you groped at your free breast so it wouldn’t be ignored.

"Beep!”

An urgent chime echoed in the tiny space, the hyperdrive indicator was flashing its countdown warning: 10 minutes remain.

The Mandalorian’s growl on your breast made your blood turn to ice and your core flush with heat at the same time. He wanted to devour you, taste every single inch of your exposed skin, but time was not on your side; and he became a man on a mission to prove himself worthy of you. Bristles dragged over your skin as he slid down your belly until he hit the edge of your pants. They were yanked off so fast you briefly worried about the krayt teeth that were still in their pockets, but you didn’t have long to think before Mando was poised over the apex of your thighs, kissing at each leg to make his intentions known. Those must be some good holo-vids you’re watching, tinman. You let him push your legs apart with his chin, receiving a soft kiss on each one once they were far enough apart for him to stuff his face in between.

Your back arched, hard, followed by the most ragged moan you‘d ever heard escape your throat. The grip on your thighs kept you in place as he lapped at your clit, sucking and teasing in an experimental way. His inexperience didn’t seem to matter, his hunger for you fueling his efforts and making you squirm in delight. Your hands sought desperately for something to grab onto to keep yourself grounded, finding his lovely curls to bury your fingers in deep. It was all you could do to hold on for dear life, tangling in his hair and struggling to breathe as he worked you into a frenzy.

The noises coming from below your waist were heavenly, wet and greedy in between his hums of contentment. It took you a while to realize they weren’t hums at all, but alien words of worship being prayed at your sinful altar; but the blood pounding in your ears and the gasps from your throat were too loud for you to hear his devotion.

“Beep beep!” Five minutes remain. Fuck.

The Mandalorian’s efforts doubled, running his tongue almost too quickly in his attempt to eat you alive. You let your hips grind into his mouth, begging him to bring you your release, and it wasn’t long before he succeeded. Stars flashed behind your eyes as you came into his hot open mouth, but he refused to leave until he had drank his fill of you. Eventually he pulled his face away from your spent heat with agonizing slowness, as if he would rather drown than address the impending drop from hyperspace. He kissed at your shaky thighs, your soft belly, and each breast before pressing his lips into your panting mouth, pushing the taste of you onto your own tongue. His breath was ragged, and you could feel the sweat of his brow where it was pushed against your face.

He lifted away from you, and the weight of the handmade mask was draped over your face, making you groan with the displeasure of your passion being cut short. However, once it was in place, it was almost immediately pushed under by strong fingers to lift its edge, and you were given one last kiss to swear his promise of return to you.

“Din. My name is Din.”

<-Previous Next->

TAG LIST @mrsparknuts @cookiejuicedesu @mandoinevarro @kaermorons

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #self insert #bargaining with beskar

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cats-pyjamas · 3 years ago

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LOGICALITY PLSSSS

❥ ask / @sunflower-avo-tea

send me a ship and i’ll give my opinion on it!!

*kicks down door*

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

okay so i honestly don’t even know where to start with this because I just got a lotta feelings and I don’t know how to write them all down and I’m so sorry that this is so ramble-y and incoherent but-

basically logicality is like. my ultimate comfort ship?? I absolute adore the ‘stoic nerd and soft cinnamon roll’ trope and you can pry it out of my cold dead hands-

the fact that they’re complete opposites yet can see the value in the other and their contributions (even if they argue and it takes a while for them to realise it in some situations) and admit when they’re wrong in order to validate the other like I just HHHH even the way they look at each other? like I’m probably just overthinking it way too much but like they’ll just glance at each other from across the room with genuine care and it just looks like they always look for the other’s validation in what they’re saying (more so on Patton’s end) because they want the other’s approval and consider their opinion important and I just-

ALSO THE PUNS ??? the way logan tries to hide that side of him because he wants to desperately be taken seriously but there’s moments when he allows himself to indulge in it and he just looks so happy?? like the 12 days of christmas song, when he was trying not to laugh at patton changing the lyrics and then started doing it with him, it was like he was allowing Patton to help him break down the facade a bit and I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS

they’re also both such dads in different ways that i think really complement each other- logan being the practical one who focuses on reviewing facts and using logical reasoning in order to make the best decisions to care for yourself and patton being bubbly and fun and putting the focus on happiness just makes me...really happy like. you can see it in their interactions with virgil and thomas- logan has this sort of calmness about him where he’s able to be observant and notice when something’s wrong, and also provide comfort in his own way with clarity and understanding and reassurance. patton on the other hand is a ball of energy and uses lots of affirmation, homemade gifts, and jokes to communicate care in a much more sentimental way and i just love the possibilities of how they can play off each other and help to balance the other out

there’s also just all these moments that i’m gonna list here because i think about them all the time and they make me so happy and i have so much to say-:

* logan almost calling patton a genius in learning new things (!!)- “patton you’re-! ...good. that was...helpful.”

* patton cheering logan on while he raps

* him also giving patton all the credit for helping to figure out how to deal with procrastination despite it probably being a hit to his own pride- “and it’s all thanks to a brilliant deduction- from watson”

* ALSO “elementary my dear daddy- no” AND IT SAYING ‘(ship)’ IN THE CAPTIONS??????

* logan being flustered/impressed by patton (janus) knowing about kant and philosophy, and also by him saying ‘oh good logan-everyone’s favourite character!!’ because he thought it was patton saying it and patton would be sincere about something like that

* “morality? what are we doing wrong?” - logan valuing their differences and realising that patton is important

* PATTON CALLING LOGAN HIS HERO??? AND LOGAN’S “WE GET IT. YOU’RE ADORABLE” I LOSE MY MIND EVERY TIME LIKE,,, patton literally admires logan and everything he does so much and thinks he’s so cool and I ADORE THIS

* matching logos!!!!!

* matching onesies!!!!!

* the entire head vs heart episode where they can’t grasp why thomas would ever imply that they argue / don’t get along because thomas don’t you get it we’re married?????

* their names matching- patton from ‘pathos’ and logan from ‘logos’

* THE ENTIRETY OF MOVING ON??????? logan’s face when it’s clear patton is hurt by what he’s saying/tells him to stop !!

* also him helping patton open up about his feelings through thomas (“I’m your happy pappy patton, just a fun loving father figure figment-!” “falsehood”) because he never really left and knew the others still needed him

* also him giving up his own pride and admitting he’s wrong!! and he creates a thoughtful gift for patton that he knows he’ll love as an apology even if he thinks it’s childish (and it’s a direct callback to his own behaviour towards patton and contribution towards him hiding his feelings which is kind of represented by the fact that he wouldn’t let him wear his cat onesie despite patton saying his old cardigan was getting him down, and it’s logan’s own way of telling him that he doesn’t have to let his emotions weigh him down anymore)

* also logan short circuiting with “this is just too precious to process-“

* also logan checking up on him and smiling when he seems to be doing well: “patton, how are you today?”/“well, that is very good to hear.” also patton looking at him when he talks about the thought of seeing the others helping him leave his room!!

* also patton making a pun that logan’s cool and that “you’re my biggest fan!!” (and logan doesn’t deny it)

* logan having patton help him with his jam advert even though he’s probably the least scientifically minded person among the sides-

* patton looking for logan’s approval when he says a word in spanish and wanting him to be proud of him - “did I make you proud logan?? you proud of me??”

* patton just always seems particularly excited to see logan and it makes me so happy

* THE FAM-ILY CARD WHERE PATTON DREW THEM LINKING ARMS AND SMILING???

* “with you i’m always home”- this is getting way too long so I won’t even GO into this one but FUCK they’re gay

* “yeah but did you see logan’s face?” - logan apparently seeming upset by janus implying patton didn’t want him there, and also patton being upset at the implication/by roman finding it funny

* the instagram story where patton calls logan “the good looking one”

* THE INCORRECT QUOTES?? TELL ME THEY WERENT ON A DATE WHEN THEY WERE GOING OUT TO A RESTAURANT JUST THE TWO OF THEM?? also logan literally assuming the role of a getaway driver no questions asked when patton steals a whole ass table because he thinks that’s what logan wants him to do?? be gay do crime

* logan helping patton during intrusive thoughts by being firm yet understanding and patton listening to him and calling him amazing and oh my god my heart-

* (also logan ordering a birthday cake for patton!!!)

i won’t go on any longer because this is already a mess but...just please oh my god @ everyone please please please talk to me about logicality anytime because I just adore everything about them and I just HHH

tldr: patton and logan please adopt me

#( thank you for allowing me to just ramble about them I love them so so much )#( I’m so sorry this is so long and completely incoherent I just....I have so many feelings )#❥ this is crofters / sanders sides #sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #long post #ts logic #ts morality #ts logicality #meta #❥ questions and answers / ask #sunflower-avo-tea #tw caps #tw cursing #ts spoilers

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years ago

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WWR

I really wished I had gotten this done before the rollercoaster that was today. Yeah I’m looking at you NCIS press staff who threw the entire fandom into a spiral with this uploaded then deleted nine second clip that threatens to make us all riot. Looking. At. You.

Anyways, this is gonna be short in comparison to Sangre because honestly there wasn’t a whole whole lot and also my mind is scrambled 🥴

So Nick at the elevator with Ellie’s firearms scorecard had be dying. Either he knows exactly when she shows up everyday because this is Eleanor Bishop and she’s nothing if not punctual, it’s just who she is. Or they are in such constant contact that she had literally just sent him a text that she was parking and coming up to the bullpen now. Or he’d been standing there for the past half hour while McGee tries to rib him for looking like an idiot and him refusing to move because she has to show up to work eventually. But my bet is the second honestly. Ellie acting coy and giving Nick a hard time is everything though because this is so usually not how it goes. He’s usually the secretive one (up until recently, I’m aware) and now she’s the one who’s all mysterious like yeah I’m a badass shot (and you know this Nick, duhhhh) but I’m not gonna tell you why my score is even better now so good that I maxed it out since it has to do with the training I’m getting from Odette that I *still* haven’t told anyone about. But shockingly enough boy learned his previous mistake last year in the jail cell and dropped it and didn’t ask more questions because he knows Ellie will tell him when Ellie is ready and ok to tell him 🥺 the respect for her and also trust she’d tell him if it was big (which ahem Ellie if this *is* because of Odette, oooooo you done messed up).

McGee being bitter about not getting the body call had me cackling. Poor dude does not have a poker face 🤣

And then I stayed laughing with Kasie’s little commentary about streets for cars and oceans for sharks (my husband who dabbles in cycling would not be on the same page with the first part but definitely the second Kasie, I hear that). Why does Ellie’s look at the back of Nick’s head and his immediate getting Kasie back on track seem like they’ve just got perfect telepathy and know literally what the other is thinking, they’re just so in sync 😩

More ellick as partners and it’s just adorable as usual I love how they work together, they so efficient they already two steps ahead of McGee with everything. And 🥺 Nick’s catching Ellie’s attention while she’s thinking about Gibbs, that slight worry in his face as he knows this is hard for her because of their relationship. I love how much he cares without showing he cares. He would do everything for her, he wants to wrap her up and protect her from the dangers and hurt of the world. THIS IS WHY YOU’RE NOT LIKE MIGUEL NICK, THIS. YOUR DAD WOULD NEVER. Also Gibbs tells Ellie its not his call so she immediately defers to Nick to see what they should do? Ugh the trust. I love.

OK so the hotly disputed scene in interrogation with McGee, Bishop and Hannah. I have thoughts and yes I wear ellick-colored glasses while I watch this show so yes I’ll be biased. Just like everyone has their own bias when watching so we can all believe what we want to believe since we also all know that we will never, ever get clarification. NCIS writers would never. Past plot lines coming back up, that’s cute. SO ANYWAYS. I love that it was Ellie’s idea to do the skeptic and hopeless romantic, for being a logical agent she sure is using her heart a lot in recent episodes I see you Ellie you can’t hide that Ms. Big-Hearted Bishop 👀 and yes the shaaaaade she throws out is 100% real you cannot convince me otherwise. Half these guys wouldn’t know love if it smacked them in the face?? yes. agree. A thousand percent agree. SHE SPEAKS FROM EXPERIENCE OK. And then the someone special in her life 🥺🥺🥺 oof we know you love him Ellie it’s ok you can just say it. You can say Nick has wormed his way into your heart with his dancing hips and his smart tongue. We know it he’s special to you he’s more than special he’s your loooooove 😭 and yes the GROWTH Y’ALL. We went from not trusting him with her phone- her pHONE. To now she trusts him with her life???? Because this man vowed from that night in the bullpen in 16x11 to prove to her that she can trust him and ain’t that IT. Good god is someone cutting onions around me?? He stood in the bullpen realizing how much he fucked up and said, that won’t happen again. She will trust me with everything big and small, to the point she’d trust me with her life and it will be my mission in life to prove this to her no matter how long it takes because yes it matters. Boy even pushed her out the way of a speeding car and almost died himself all for this lady and yes nick she knows you risked her life for hers and that’s when she realizes that shit this is so incredibly real and I’d put my life in his hands and he’d put his in mine without hesitation this is love. So yes if he asked her to do something (relating to Hannah here and also I think a piece of her knows that if nick had died, she would have been the one to kill Xavier), she would in a heartbeat. She would do anything for this man and while yes some of this is dramatized and played up a bit to get Hannah to open up, I firmly believe that it comes from a place of truth. That she pulled from experience and what she feels in order to play it best. Also partly why I don’t think this is in reference to Gibbs. She told McGee she was going to play the hopeless romantic card and she’s literally trying to appeal/connect with Hannah who is in a *romantic* relationship with the suspect. So naturally she’s going to mirror that with a romantic angle, not a father-daughter angle (that’s creepy when you think about it tbh - related to a woman who’s in love with a guy by saying you understand because you feel similarly about your “dad’?? No thank you) So yes, I’m in the camp that Ellie was picturing Nick while saying all this and surely she laid it on a little thick for the sake of the interrogation, but there’s an undercurrent of truth to her words and you can pry that out of my dead, cold hands because I will believe this to my grave unless NCIS writers magically remember old plots and prove me wrong.

Nick busting out Hannah’s rhymes while Nick gives the little head bob yessssss. How many times had they done that before McGee got that update 🤣🤣😅

He’s still at her desk 👀 he’s always at her desk 🥰 and then the celebratory drink part…Nick’s look at Ellie…more silent communication because they’re just on the same page and you honestly did not need to look at each other that long but ok, can’t keep your eyes off one another even though McGee asked a simple question. But the better question is did they still go get that celebratory drink with McGee or did McGee decide to go home since Gibbs screened their call and they went out to get that drink by themselves 👀👀 and really it’s just Ellie drinking and getting flirty throwing some arms around some shoulders 👀👀 I don’t hate this is that why you guys get all cozy in the bullpen next episode huh nick 👀👀 can’t stop it after tipsy Ellie is falling all over you with how close y’all are now I see how it is 👀👀

But yeah tonight’s episode. I’ve gone on a clown rollercoaster today and I can tell you I’m not looking forward to the emotional turmoil that will be tonight- however it turns out. Who am I kidding i live for this shit I’m a clown forever through and through.

#ellick #ncis #wwr #18x13 #look at me i got this done in time #also you can @ me all you want over the interrogation scene #i said what i said

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whump-tr0pes · 4 years ago

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HB4-23/Whumptober day 1

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3.

AO3

Masterlist

The nightmare from this chapter was pulled from this piece, part of one of a dizzying array of AUs with the spectacular @ashintheairlikesnow

Content warning: this one is ROUGH let’s start whumptober out right: blood, DEATH, abuse from a family member, gendered slur, alcoholic parent, self-hatred, discussion of child whumper, discussion of child murdering someone, panic attack, PTSD, self-blame for child not taking care of a parent, suicid@l ideations, dissoci@tion

Rosa’s expression was cold. Everything about her was cold: the hard line of her mouth, the arms crossed in front of her chest, the way she turned away from Isaac as if he was disgusting to look at. Everything was cold, except for her eyes. Her eyes blazed with fury, and it made Isaac tremble.

Michael limped back into the house, blood soaking through their pant leg, and it made Isaac whimper.

Jordan was being carried between William and Lexi, and that made Isaac hate himself.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed weakly as they laid Jordan on the floor. Their skin was a blue-gray, where it wasn’t stained a sort of black-red that made Isaac’s stomach heave. The worst part, the worst part, was their eyes. They were open, blank, staring sightlessly up at Isaac. Accusing. Empty.

Dead.

Isaac fell to his knees beside Jordan, his hand reaching out to touch them.

Rosa grabbed his wrist in an iron grip and tore his hand away from Jordan. She dragged Isaac upright and pitched him onto his back. She stood over him and jabbed a finger at him.

“You don’t get to touch them,” Rosa snarled.

Isaac whined softly and pushed himself up to look at Jordan past Rosa. Rosa stepped forward and kicked him back onto his back.

“Please,” Isaac sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean—”

“They’re dead because of you,” Rosa hissed. “You know that. We went out to fight and you were supposed to be there, to protect us, and you weren’t. You preferred to not take the shot. You preferred to run like the useless piece of shit you are.”

Isaac held out a hand in front of him, tears pouring down his face. “Rosa, no, please, I just didn’t want…” Isaac crumpled into sobs. “I didn’t mean for anyone to die, I just… I didn’t want to kill anyone, please…”

“Shut up,” Rosa growled. “This is your fucking job. We’ve spent the past… the past seven years taking care of you. Making sure you have everything you need. We made you part of our family, Isaac. And when it came time for you to repay everything we’ve done… all we asked was this one little thing…”

“You said I’d have to kill people,” Isaac whispered. “Please… William, please,” Isaac begged, straining to look past Rosa. She shoved him onto his back.

“You’re the one we’ve trained for this,” Rosa said viciously. “You’re the youngest. You move the best. You’re the one best suited to handle this, and you didn’t.” Rosa’s face was changing, morphing, flickering between her and his mother. Rosa, his mother. Rosa, his mother. Isaac blinked and scrambled back on his hands.

“But I…” He whimpered. “I’m sorry, Rosa,” he wailed. “Jordan, no… Jordan, I’m sorry… Jordan, NO…”

“You serve a purpose in this family,” Rosa snarled. “You protect us. You use your training to be useful.”

“Lexi… Michael, please…”

“And you failed. You failed us, Isaac. We made this plan assuming you’d have our back. And you failed.”

“No…”

Rosa’s lips pulled back over her teeth. “And… I have no fucking use for someone who refuses to do what they were trained to do.”

Isaac looked up at Rosa with terror in his eyes. “Rosa… please, I—”

“Get out, Isaac,” Rosa snarled at him. “Get out. If you refuse to repay the things we’ve done for you… We raised you, Isaac. We did more for you than that bitch mother ever did.”

It was his mother’s face saying it. Isaac’s brow furrowed. The smell of gin was thick in his nose.

“No,” Isaac whimpered. “Rosa, I… I’ll do it. I’ll go on the next one with you. I won’t run. I’ll take the shot… I promise. I… Rosa, I was scared…”

“You think I wasn’t, you fucking idiot?” Rosa snapped. “We were all scared. But we went. You’re the most trained, and you failed. You fucking ran. So get your shit, Isaac.”

“No…”

“Get your shit and fucking leave. I never want to see your face again.”

“Rosa, please, no…”

Rosa crouched by his side and thrust her face close to his. “I have no fucking use for you,” she hissed. Isaac could feel her breath on his face. It smelled like gin.

Rosa never drank gin.

“Fucking useless,” Rosa said. But it wasn’t Rosa. “I have no fucking use for you, if you won’t do this one little thing.” A bottle was in Rosa’s hand. Not Rosa. His mother. Sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Fucking idiot,” she screamed in his face. “Is it so fucking hard to bring me my fucking gin?” She hurled the bottle at the wall. It bounced off. Plastic.

“You couldn’t tell us we were out of fucking milk,” the woman in front of him snarled. “How fucking hard is that? And now he’s… he’s dead.” Isaac cowered back away from his mother as she descended on him, her face twisted with rage. “And if I never had you, MY HUSBAND WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!”

Isaac stopped trying to move away from his mother. He stopped trying to fight the words. He collapsed onto the floor, curling into a tight ball of misery, burying his face in his hands. The thing that wore his mother’s face and spoke in his mother’s voice screamed hate and bile at him. He sobbed as the words fell on him like stones.

Isaac twisted away from his mother, his heart pounding in his chest. She was grabbing him in the dark… but when had she done that? His mother never touched him at all after his father died, not even once. This isn’t right.

Hands tightened on his wrists and he cried out, twisting in the dark, something wrapping around his legs, his chest, suffocating him.

“No,” he sobbed, tears burning on his cheeks.

“Isaac,” someone said urgently, and he froze. He knew that voice.

That voice came with a rush of terror, of relief, pain and misery and joy wrapped up in it, choking him, paralyzing him. He covered his head with his arms and curled into a ball, shaking, trembling with the horror of being restrained by something wrapping around his body, drawing tighter the more he fought. Pain spiked in his back and he wailed miserably.

The lamp snapped on. Isaac flinched as the light stabbed into his eyes.

“Isaac, shh, you’re alright… Isaac…” Someone pulled Isaac into their arms, and Gavin’s smell washed over him, warm and clean. Isaac scrambled out of the sheets that felt so much like restraints and clutched at Gavin. He buried his face in Gavin’s bare chest and heaved a broken sob.

“Shh,” Gavin whispered, trailing his fingers gently over the back of Isaac’s arm, missing the healing cuts. “It was a nightmare. Isaac…” A hand guided his face up and he met Gavin’s eyes, soft and concerned. “Isaac, it’s okay…”

“N-no,” Isaac sobbed, his breath hitching in his chest. “No, no, no, no…” He squeezed his eyes shut. They flew open again as Rosa’s face flashed across his vision.

“It’s alright, Isaac,” Gavin said gently, his voice betraying just a hint of strain. “You’re safe.” Gavin carded his fingers through Isaac’s hair, then stiffened. “Oh, shit. Do you need me to…? I can go, if you—”

“No,” Isaac whimpered desperately, clawing at Gavin’s back, clutching at his arms when Gavin let out a hiss through his teeth. “Please, please don’t go, please, please, please…” His voice broke as he pleaded.

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” Gavin said, his voice tight with worry now. “Isaac… was it… F-Fort Meyers? Or…”

“No,” Isaac whimpered, his arms tightening around Gavin’s chest. “No, it… my… my first fam— first team,” he said, misery clawing at his chest. “And my… my mom. They… um…” Isaac swallowed painfully. “Well, you… you know.”

Gavin’s hand went to the back of Isaac’s neck. “I, um… I… yeah. A little bit, yeah.”

“And they… she…” Isaac pushed down a sob and pressed his mouth against Gavin’s shoulder. “I… J-Jordan died because of, of me. Because I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill… couldn’t take the fucking shot…” He gasped for breath. “And they died. Because I’m a coward, because I’m a fucking coward…”

“No, you’re not,” Gavin said through his teeth. “You’re not a coward. You… you’re not.”

“But I couldn’t kill the guard,” Isaac moaned. “I couldn’t fucking… do it, and J-Jordan, di-ied, and I… It’s my fault…”

“Isaac, no—”

“And Rosa, she, she kicked me out and… she said I… I was… useless and she didn’t want me if I didn’t do what I was… made for.”

Gavin sucked in a breath.

“She wouldn’t even let me… touch Jordan,” Isaac sobbed. “Wouldn’t let me say good, goodbye.” Isaac kicked the sheets off of him and dragged himself closer to Gavin, their legs tangling together. Gavin squeezed him tighter.

“Isaac, I’m—”

“And… she said… she sounded just like my mom, in the dream,” Isaac said, his voice dropping to an agonized whisper. “I couldn’t do this… one thing, and now my father is dead, and it’s my fault…”

“But it’s not—”

“I should have done it.” Isaac’s nose was running and he swiped at it with the back of his hand. “I should have killed him. And maybe if I had, maybe if I…” He ground his teeth together. “Maybe if I did my fucking job, I’d still be with them. Maybe if I didn’t… fail them…” Isaac buried his face into Gavin’s neck, as if he could hide from all his shame. “Then I… maybe I’d still be with them. Maybe they’d, um, still want me, and I could protect them, and they’d…”

Maybe they’d love me eventually, if I did it right.

Hate swept through him, singeing every inch of skin. Hate for himself. Hate so deep he couldn’t pry it out, no matter how deep he cut.

“If I… wasn’t so fucking stupid… my dad might—”

“Isaac, stop,” Gavin whimpered, and pressed a frantic kiss into his sweaty hair. Isaac hadn’t realized he was soaked with sweat until now. “Stop, please, don’t say that. None of it was your fault. You were a kid. You forgot to tell your parents you were out of damned milk. Do you know what I was doing at twelve?”

Isaac swallowed thickly. “N-no?”

Gavin shuddered, and suddenly he was shivering against Isaac like he was freezing to death. “By the time I was twelve… I’d already killed someone.”

Isaac’s eyes fell closed and tears ran down his face.

“So stop… I can’t… I can’t take it. Can’t… listen to you say that. It was a fucking mistake. It was a stupid fucking mistake, it was a normal mistake that adults do, and kids do, Isaac, it… it was just some fucking milk.” Gavin buried his face in Isaac’s hair. “That driver killed your dad. Not you. You had nothing to do with it. That could have happened on his way home from work, or on his way to…” Gavin’s throat bobbed. “Or on his way to the lake with you…” Gavin pulled Isaac closer. “That wasn’t your fucking fault. Okay? I know what it is to kill someone innocent. And you didn’t do it.”

“But I—”

“And neither was Jordan’s death your fault. Do you understand? You were so fucking young, Isaac. It’s not, um… not normal to kill someone. It’s… it’s okay that you didn’t.”

“I was twenty-one,” Isaac whimpered. “And it’s what I… was trained for. They… they, um… made me into that. They taught me everything. They took, took me to other teams so they could have me trained in weapons, jiu jitsu, karate, tactical movement and marksmanship and how to fucking make it out of something alive and I had all that training and I couldn’t fucking do my fucking job and I had seven years to get ready and they had me do some little practice missions and that was fine and then when it was real I failed I failed I failed…” Isaac dragged in a shuddering gasp.

There wasn’t enough air in the room. He pulled away from Gavin’s neck, his chest heaving with great, racking sobs.

“I, I failed, I failed, I, I f-failed, I—”

“Isaac, stop…”

“I, I, fai— I, can’t, bre-eathe, I, I, oh, f-fuck, I c-can’t—”

“Fuck. Fuck. Isaac, I… I don’t know how to—”

Isaac’s chest ached with every breath. “P-please, oh, fuck…” He choked and clutched at Gavin’s arm. “Ga-avin, h— I, can’t, please…”

“No, no, no, no, shit, Isaac…”

The room was spinning around him. His head throbbed with every heartbeat. “Oh, g-god, I, please…”

“Okay, okay, what does Gray do…? Oh!” Gavin cupped Isaac’s face and pulled it up until Isaac could see his eyes. “Look at me, Isaac. Look. Okay? We’re gonna breathe together, you and me. We’re gonna do it.”

Isaac felt like he was dragging in air through a straw. “Ca-an’t, can’t, can’t, can’t, shit…”

“Yes, you can.” Gavin’s voice was shaking. “It works when Gray does it, right? You can. Breathe in…”

Isaac’s hands cramped as he tried to keep his hold on Gavin. He ground out a whimper and curled his hands into fists. It just made the pain worse. He wailed miserably and curled into himself.

“Breathe, Isaac.”

“But my mom—”

“Fuck your mom. I… shit, Isaac, I didn’t… that was shitty of me to say. I’m sorry.”

“She… she was so angry…”

“And that wasn’t your fault.”

“It was! I could have… been there for her, could have helped her, she… she drank because dad was gone, but I was sort of gone, too… I spent so much time in my room, I didn’t… I used to play with my friends and go to my neighbor’s house for homeschooling sometimes, the schools weren’t safe even then…”

“Isaac—”

“I could have made her feel better…” Isaac trailed off in a rasping whisper.

“Isaac… I… I read… Gray said it’s not… kids’ jobs to take care of their parents. Okay? She should have been the one…” Gavin’s voice wavered on the edge of a sob. “…taking care of you.”

“But she couldn’t because she was drunk. I could have… helped…”

Gavin took a steadying breath. “Isaac… do you hear how fucked up that is?”

Deep down in Isaac’s soul, where all his desperate emptiness lived… he knew how wrong it was. He knew there should have been someone there to care for him. Keep him safe. Love him.

Every other part of his being cried out in horror, lashed him viciously for daring to want that. Daring to think he deserved it.

If he eventually failed everyone around him, even when their lives depended on him, what did that make him? Even when the odds were against him, that didn’t matter. He’d been trained to fight, trained to protect, and the people he protected didn’t care if he was scared or hurt or overwhelmed. He had a job to do, and he failed, he failed, he failed, he couldn’t bring his father back and he couldn’t make his mother feel better, and he couldn’t protect Jordan and he couldn’t kill and he couldn’t die and he couldn’t be anything but a reminder to everyone he loved of how much he’d failed, he’d failed…

Failed Sam. Failed Vera. Failed Ellis. Failed Finn. Failed Gray. Failed Tori. Failed Edrissa. Failed Gavin.

Why am I alive?

“—aac. Isaac, stop. Breathe, breathe, please…”

Someone was sobbing, someone was clawing at Gavin’s back and making him hurt, but it wasn’t Isaac.

“Oh, no…”

Someone was a mess of pain and blood and shame, someone was a walking disaster with nothing but bodies in his wake, someone was falling apart because when it mattered, he didn’t – couldn’t – defend his family.

“…sh-should I get Gray? I… Isaac, I don’t know what to do…”

Someone was an empty shell, gutted by nothing but his own failures. Someone was a liability. Someone shouldn’t be allowed to have a family if he couldn’t do his fucking job.

Three knocks at the door. Not for him. He wasn’t there anymore.

Continued here

@untilthepainstarts, @womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @whatwhumpcomments, @cursedscribbles, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @omega-em-z-02, @whumps-the-word, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @justplainwhump, @moose-teeth, @slaintetowhump, @finder-of-rings, @inky-whump, @thatsthewhump, @orchidscript, @insanitywishes, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pretty-face-breaker, @cinnamonflavoredhugs, @inaridriscoll, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @endless-whump

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instasiswetrust · 3 years ago

Text

Werewolf AU (Steve centric)

When the wolf finds him, Steve's been sitting on that rock for nigh on an hour. Or at least, he assumes it could've been an hour even when it feels like he's been there for merely a handful of minutes.

He doesn't turn to greet the wolf, doesn't even flinch, heavy gaze entirely focused on the two-story house he can make out at the bottom of the hill. From his place on the raised rock, just at the edge of the trees where the pine forest meets the last remnants of the suburban landscape, he knows no one can spot him from down there. He can see them though.

Two figures, partially hidden by the curtains that frame the open window, sit at a table. He thinks they might be having dinner, trading inane chatter like it was any other day. And you know, maybe it was.

(He tries not to dwell on how much that thought makes his chest ache.)

Behind him, a soft rustle can be heard, the crunching of heavy boots on dried pine needles, before someone sits next to him on the rock. Their legs dangle off the edge of the raised rock, and by the mismatched pink and green striped socks they are wearing, Steve can easily tell who they are.

"It's been two hours, Stevie. Dad thought you had gotten lost in the woods again."

Susie.

(For some reason he had thought Frank would've found him first. He decides not to think about the small spark of disappointment that he feels.)

"Sorry." He mutters, prying his gaze away from the house and facing her properly. She's shorter than he is and it makes him have to look down at her. In her hands is a partially eaten chocolate bar - where she got it, Steve doesn't know - and when she notices his eyes on her, she raises it slightly so he can take a bite from it.

Steve wonders if she's doing it because of the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, or the way his hair is lying limp against his head from all the times he had run his hands through it. Either way, he's glad she doesn't mention it

"Doesn't chocolate make us sick?" Maybe it's ironic for him to ask when he's taking a bite of the chocolate too, but he could do with the sweetness.

"Life without chocolate it's not worth living." And when she smiles, her cheeks dimple in the cutest of ways. It's honest, happy, and slightly manic, childish in a way that reminds him so much of Dustin that he ends up choking back tears.

She doesn't say anything but her eyes soften. Next thing he knows, she's all but pulled him into an embrace, his face smooshed into her shoulder in a slightly awkward angle due to their height difference. The way he doesn't even bother finding a more comfortable position, his whole body relaxing under her touch, is evidence enough of how much he needed something like this.

"I miss them." Whispered like a secret, his words muffled against the fabric of her pink cable knit sweater, even as the first sob wracks through him. “I k-know I shouldn't because they don't s-seem to care that I left but-”

Her hands are on his hair, fingers carding gently through it, even as she hums a lullaby under her breath. It makes him sob harder, face hidden against the curve of her shoulder, hands desperately clinging to her.

Susie never comments on it. She doesn't try to justify his feelings or vilify his parents. Her sole focus is on him, letting him cry it out without caring if her sweater gets stained with tears. Once he's finally calmed down, she waits for him to put himself back together before standing and helping him up.

“Come, Stevie. Let's go back before Dad starts worrying.”

------

The thing about shifting into a wolf was that keeping any coherent thoughts was absolute hell to do, especially when you had only been a wolf for three whole weeks. Thinking he could somehow sneak into town without being seen was foolish to even consider.

That still didn't stop Steve.

Dustin. Robin. Nancy.

Names repeating in his brain that made absolutely no sense to a wolf who couldn't make sense of abstract concepts. But they were important. He could feel it under his skin, like an itch that he couldn't scratch. How he would find them, he wasn't sure, but he would.

And that's how he ends up climbing clumsily into the open window that leads to Dustin's room, making a racket as he topples over half a dozen action figures that were settled on the dresser. His nails clack sharply against the hardwood floors, nose twitching curiously at all the scents that fill the room.

A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye has him turning his head to the side, finding himself at the foot of a raised structure that he vaguely remembers is meant to be den. On it, a human child holds a complicated plastic...thing, pointing it directly at him. He smells of curiosity and fear but under it, all is a scent so familiar that it makes the wolf's chest ache with emotions he can't name, a soft confused whine escaping him.

The child tilts its head at the sound, curiosity seemingly winning over his fear as he crawls closer to the edge of the raised platform, eyes locking on the wolf- No. On Steve.

That single moment of clarity is all Steve needs to trigger back the change, skin morphing and bones cracking, as his body protests with the pain of forcing him back into a form resembling something human. At last, there's no wolf, just a very naked teenager sitting in the middle of Dustin's room with a nerf gun pointed at him.

"Steve?!" He flinches despite Dustin's voice being no louder than a whisper. A cold breeze streams through the open window, making him shiver and reminding him that he's still very much naked.

"Look, I promise I will explain just-" Steve flushes, fumbling with the necklace on his neck until it spits out the change of clothes he had saved in there. "Let me get dressed because this is awfully embarrassing."

"I uh- sure?" And it's clear by his tone of voice that he's choking on a laugh but he does cover his eyes to give Steve some privacy.

It doesn't take long before he's fully dressed, sitting on the corner of Dustin's bed while his friend stares at him with eyes filled with curiosity and accusation. Steve cannot blame him. For all everyone knew he could've been dead no matter what the note he left behind said.

"So you're a werewolf." Not a question but he nods, feeling uncomfortable as he remembers Evan saying he couldn't tell anyone else for the safety of not only himself but the pack.

"You weren't supposed to find out about that but it's hard keeping human thoughts while I remain a wolf." Dustin has that look on his face that Steve knows means he wants to ask more questions but is refraining himself from doing so. It makes him smile at the familiarity of it all. "I'm not actually supposed to be here, in fact."

"Why? Did you get kidnapped by a werewolf cult or something? Is that why you left?"

Steve snorts, shaking his head quickly. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's just for safety, y'know? Monster hunters are common in small towns like this according to Da- according to Evan."

His slip up makes Dustin quirk an eyebrow.

"Were you just about to call this Evan guy, Dad?"

"Look-" But before he could start explaining, the younger boy interrupted him again.

"Wait, you said Monster hunters, not Werewolf hunters. Does that mean other creatures are real? Like Fae, and Tieflings, and Vampires? Is Dracula real? Is Mothman real?" He's firing questions with the swiftness of a TV presenter, Steve immediately putting hands on his shoulders to slow him down.

"Slow down, dingus." He teases, the old nickname making Dustin roll his eyes. "I'm not really supposed to be saying any of this but I guess since you've already seen me..."

"C'mon Steve, tell me at least a little! Please?" And Dustin's known Steve for long enough that he's aware the guy is absolutely weak when it comes to puppy eyes.

He sighs, running a hand through his face before caving in. "Monsters are real, yes. I only know a few, those that have visited the pack for the most part, but Dr. Herman has many Bestiaries around that he agreed to let me read once I graduate from Evan's pack dynamic classes."

Dustin is absolutely beaming with all the new information, a hundred questions waiting to be voiced on his lips but suddenly his expression falls, brows furrowing and teeth worrying his bottom lip. He's avoiding Steve's gaze and his scent stinks of sadness.

"Hey, what's the matter? I thought you would be excited to know Mothman might be real?" He's still saying nothing and Steve is starting to grow worried. Did he do something wrong?

"This means you aren't coming back...right?" It's barely above a whisper but Steve's hearing is so sharp that he has no trouble hearing him. Inside his chest, his heart clenches painfully.

When he shakes his head and Dustin's gaze falls to his lap, Steve feels like his body is being filled with lead.

"I still have my phone with me, and I might be able to visit in the future but... No. I'm not coming back, Dustin." Grief bubbles in his chest, choking him up and making his eyes burn with the tears he wants to shed but refuses to.

Dustin tackles him into a hug, squeezing him so hard that it hurts but Steve doesn't mind, hugging him back just as tightly. If either of them cries they don't bother mentioning it.

It's not important after all.

----

Dawn shines pink and orange over the horizon when he makes it back to the ranch, exhausted to his bones.

Evan is waiting for him in the kitchen when he steps in and Steve is not surprised. The older werewolf had the uncanny ability to know when any of them were getting into trouble, after all. So all Steve does is hang his head, feeling the weight of Evan's gaze on him.

"Sit." He says, and his voice doesn't give anything away. So Steve sits and waits for the reprimanding he's so sure will come.

Except it doesn't.

"You have been crying. Are you hurt?" Evan is truly concerned it seems, his voice firm but not too loud. Is enough to bring the tears back to Steve's eyes, a broken sob leaving him as he hides his head in his hands. And all the older man does is rub his back comfortingly until his sobs have been reduced to occasional sniffles. Only then does he speak again.

"Feeling better?" Steve nods, once, before stopping and shaking his head. Evan chuckles, his gruff voice is oddly comforting. "Ah, here I was thinking you had been taking all these changes a little too well."

"I'm used to rolling with the punches." Steve tries offering him a smile but it comes out looking more like a grimace so he ends up giving it up altogether. He hates how true that statement is but Evan understands.

(Somehow, he always understands when it comes to Steve's parents.)

They are both quiet after that, the silence comforting were it not for the way Steve's stomach roiled with his guilt. He had to say something, apologize, or the shame would eat him alive.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry I went out to town without telling anyone but it's just- I was homesick, and I missed my friends so much, and I basically left without giving Dustin an expl-" He's babbling out of nervousness, excuses spooling out of him like worn thread but he pauses once Evan settles his heavy hand on his shoulder. Big hands. Hands capable of drawing the softest of portraits with as much ease as they could choke out a deer.

"I'm not mad, pup." Steve has to bite his cheek at that to stop his eyes from filling up with tears again over something so silly as a word. "Kinda expected you to eventually do it. Had Danny's cat familiar follow you last night just to make sure you would be okay."

Steve thinks he should feel offended by that last bit of information but he honestly cannot give a fuck when he's basically swimming in the relief that courses through him at Evan's words. He knows and he isn't mad. Knows and doesn't blame him for showing weakness.

(Knows and still loves him.)

Evan smiles, barely an upturn of his lips but it's there and his words are soft when he says, "Go to bed, pup."

He does. And for the first time in a while, he doesn't dream at all.

#dbd #dead by daylight #drabbles #steve harrington #evan macmillan #dustin henderson #dbd susie #werewolf au

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nekojitachan · 4 years ago

Text

it’s been a long week but at least I got this done. And now I have to get chapter fics done. Really. But the first part of the angsty Raven!Andrew soulmate not fic is done. Not that I’m already thinking of the second part. And hey! It’s a fic that’s under 40k...

Last part can be found here

Mentions of violence (being beaten) but not explicit, but I think that’s it? Oh, references to Ichirou’s past.

*******

Waking up in pain wasn’t unusual for Andrew, not after all the years in the foster system then his time spent in juvie. He’d gotten so used to it that it had been unexpected, living with Nicky and Aaron, when he woke up most days without the sensation of pain somewhere in his body, only to be replaced with the strain from overworked muscles once he joined the Ravens (oh, and a sadistic bastard who had a thing for caning his players).

But this? The stinging throb from punches and kicks? Definitely familiar. What wasn’t? The large room with black leather couches, large, flat-screen televisions on the wall, a fancy-looking bar, and expensive artwork scattered around the place, not to mention an expanse of windows on the one side. Andrew rubbed his bound hands through the plush red carpet he lay upon and suspected that he was in the East Tower where Nathaniel spent so much time.

He’d just started to push himself into a sitting position when he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. “Looks like the runt is awake,” a deep voice called out. “Just like Junior, he bounces back fast.”

Before Andrew could turn around, he found himself jerked upright by the back of his jersey by Nathan Wesninski of all people; the bastard was dressed in black slacks and a light grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He barely had time to take that in before he was punched in the stomach, right where his padding was the thinnest, with enough force to make him gasp in pain, and then again in the face. As he struggled to shove the bastard away, to do something, Wesninski laughed and slammed him against the wall. “And just like Junior, you don’t know when to behave and take your punishment, you little-“

“That’s enough.”

The firmly spoken command was enough to stop Wesninski in mid-punch; the bastard grunted as he let go of Andrew’s throat and stepped away. “I was told to teach him a lesson.”

“I believe you’ve done that,” a young Asian man, dressed in a tailored black suit, told Wesninski as he stepped forward; he looked to be in his early twenties, if that, with a lean build and black hair combed back from a face which was oddly familiar.

Andrew suspected that he’d finally met Ichirou Moriyama.

“Tetsuji said-“

“And I just told you that’s enough.” Despite Ichirou not raising his voice, something in his dark gold eyes made Wesninski stiffen and bow his head. “I’ll deal with Minyard, you can leave and inform my uncle that the matter is resolved on your way out.” When Wesninski moved forward, Ichirou spoke again. “And Nathan? I’ll also deal with Nathaniel.”

Something unpleasant flashed across Wesninski’s face at the mention of his son. “It’s best if I handle my-“

Ichirou cut off the man known as ‘the Butcher’ once again as he walked over to the bar. “He’s not your anything anymore, not after you sold him to my family. You have your orders.” He looked up from pouring a drink to give Wesninski a cold look, as if daring the man to make him say anything else.

He might be a sadistic, abusive bastard, but Wesninski apparently could get the hint; he bowed his head in a curt manner then stalked out of the room.

Andrew slumped against the wall and watched him go, then focused his attention on the unknown Moriyama; well, that was partially untrue. He knew that the young man was Riko’s older brother yet had nothing to do with the asshole, and that for some reason, he tended to look out for Nathaniel.

That he appeared to be here to ‘deal’ with Andrew.

“What, no drink for me?” he drawled as he raised his bound hands to dab at his bleeding lip.

Ichirou regarded him with cool appraisal while he sipped his drink, appearing in no hurry to answer. Once the glass was empty, he set it down on the bar and refilled it. “Nat tells me that you’re intelligent, almost frighteningly so, and never forget a thing. He also says you’re very stubborn, which isn’t a surprise if you’re his soulmate.”

Andrew merely grunted in response to those facts.

“I know that you’re rather talented at Exy, considering your stats, and that you’ve been protecting Nat.” Ichirou paused to sip his drink while Andrew gazed at him with a blank expression. “And that Nat has feelings for you, because he’s never tried to sneak anything out of here before, yet he’s suddenly discovered a new appreciation for sweets, something he’s always hated before.”

“That’s quite a guess, isn’t it? Maybe he took them for Moreau,” Andrew suggested as he stared at the zip tie around his wrists as if he could will it to melt away.

Ichirou huffed as if amused and swirled the golden alcohol around in the cut crystal glass. “I’ve known Nat for years, and the only time he requests anything for his partner is when we had marzipan treats. No, this was for you, his soulmate, the man who required seven people to pry him away from Nat.”

It would have taken more than that if that prick, Riko, hadn’t smashed a racquet down on his head; only his helmet saved him from a serious injury. “I do it for all the boys who bring me cupcakes.”

“I’m sure.” The right corner of Ichirou’s mouth twitched upward as he reached into an inner pocket of his suit’s coat and pulled out a knife.

“Gonna start on that whole ‘deal with me’ thing?” Andrew asked as he eyed the weapon with care; Ichirou had a few inches on him, but he thought he could take the Japanese man even with his hands bound – at least knock him aside and get a good head’s start.

“Hmm, something like that. Hold out your hands and remain still,” Ichirou ordered as he came to a halt just out of reach. He gave Andrew a bored look while he flipped the knife in his right hand. “Unless you don’t want to have that drink and talk about something that will benefit Nat in the end.”

That… was that a trick? Andrew frowned at the Moriyama for a moment before he decided he could always beat him up if it was and held out his hands. He tensed as Ichirou slashed with the knife, but only to sever the plastic tie holding his hands bound. “What about Nat?” he asked as he rubbed his sore wrists once they were free.

“He told me that you found out about his father selling him to my family, and about what we really do,” Ichirou said as he returned to the bar and poured another glass of what turned out to be a very nice whiskey. “Don’t be upset with him, as he knows better than to lie to me.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that ‘knows better’ part; he forced himself to have another sip of whiskey rather than throw it in the asshole’s impassive face. “Yes, I know.” Between Jean and his truth game with Nathaniel, he finally did know why Riko thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted, consequences be damned.

“Yes, so you understand that my father is a very powerful man, one who doesn’t tolerate weakness, and he’s raised me to be the same way,” Ichirou explained as he removed his coat, which revealed a pistol in a shoulder holster, then he began to undo the cuff of his left sleeve once the coat was draped over the back of the nearest couch.

The whiskey helped a little with the pain, so Andrew poured himself another glass. “I know you’ve a pet serial killer in your pocket, and your dad disowned your little brother for some reason, which has given the psycho some serious daddy issues. Is there a point to this?”

Ichirou’s lips twitched again. “Very much so, especially in regard to Riko.” His expression turned flat when he mentioned his brother. “As I said, we’re allowed no weakness.” He turned his left forearm to Andrew, which exposed his soulmate mark.

What was left of it, that was.

Cold washed down Andrew’s spine when he realized that the shadow-like flower petals which surrounded the sword indicated that Ichirou’s soulmate was dead, and he instinctively reached for his own mark as if to confirm that it was unmarred (that Nathaniel was still alive). Ichirou noticed the movement and nodded once before he reached for his neglected drink.

“There is to be only one Moriyama heir at a time, to avoid splitting the clan apart with rivalries. My mother, my father’s soulmate, knew that, yet….” He paused for a long swallow of whiskey then refilled the glass once it was set down. “Perhaps she felt certain the child would be a girl, or that my father wouldn’t care if it was a boy since he allowed her to bear the child. Regardless, that child was Riko, and my father chose to punish her for risking the clan’s succession.”

Andrew suspected that the woman hadn’t had her credit cards cut up or something like that, not when Ichirou had another gulp of whiskey.

“It wasn’t enough that Riko took my mother away from me, but my father confirmed at his birth that he was a boy and noticed that he had no soulmate mark. He decided that was the one way that his unwanted child was better than me and resolved to spare me his own weakness.” He held up his exposed left arm and gazed at it without emotion. “When I found my soulmate, he immediately had her killed.”

Well, this was such a fascinating story, all full of fun trauma and everything, but Andrew had a living soulmate he needed to check on (and keep out of trouble). “Can we skip to the point of this? I assume there’s a reason you’re monologuing.”

Ichirou’s eyes narrowed as he rolled down his sleeve. “Riko should never have been born, yet here he is, a thorn in my father’s side. Soon he’ll be a thorn in my side, and that I won’t allow.” The young mobster’s voice grew harsh as he tugged on his suit coat. “Unlike my father, I pay attention to what happens here, I know that Tetsuji has created a monster who is one major scandal from bringing unwanted attention our way.”

“You listen to Nathaniel,” Andrew surmised as he debated one more drink but decided against it.

“Nat,” Ichirou acknowledged with a slight bob of his head, “and I’ve placed a few of my men within the Nest in the past year. There has been an increasing amount of Ravens who’ve washed out before graduation in the last couple years due to the ‘stress’ of the program, and now Kevin Day. It’s only going to get worse by the time Riko himself graduates.”

Here came the sales pitch, Andrew thought as he pulled away from the bar. “What do you expect me to do?” Someone like Ichirou didn’t save him from a beating and ply him with expensive alcohol for nothing.

The smile that had threatened to form on Ichirou’s lips finally was allowed free, though it was a slight, cold thing. “Riko has taken much from me, so in return I want him to lose everything.” He turned around to face the expanse of windows which overlooked Castle Evermore. “Everything he holds dear, I want him to see it slip from his grasp right before the life he never should have had ends.”

Andrew thought about that for a moment while he felt out the large bump on his head. “You want me to take down Riko.” Ichirou gave a curt nod. “And the Ravens?”

“The team will need new management to undo the damage Riko and Tetsuji has done to it and allow it to be useful once more.”

Okay. “That sounds like you want me to take down Tetsuji as well.” Not that he was complaining, especially after all the canings. Especially after all the canings to Nathaniel.

Ichirou looked over his shoulder, his expression impassive once more. “It needs to be done in a manner that the main branch can control, to ensure that our people are in place to pick up the pieces once those two are removed.”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he picked up the crystal decanter filled with whiskey. “You’re not asking for much, are you?” When Ichirou remained quiet, he clicked his tongue again. “What do I get out of all this?” A million bucks would be nice.

Ichirou resumed gazing upon the Exy court below. “Other than currently not being beaten half-dead by the Butcher? There is the matter of your soulmate.”

Mention of Nathaniel made Andrew stiffen, ready to throw the decanter at the first threat uttered against him. “What about Nat?” he asked, voice harsh with warning.

“He will always belong to the Moriyamas, he’s too useful and already knows too many things,” Ichirou said, his back still turned to Andrew as if unconcerned about being attacked. “But as with all things of value, he should be treated with care, not abused and locked away. Agree to this, and he’ll formally belong to the main branch. Once you’ve completed the task? Well, we can discuss allowing Nat a bit more freedom.” He turned around to give Andrew a stern look. “Within reason. He’ll always have obligations to honor.”

Andrew would deal with those ‘obligations’ one day, the main thing was protecting Nathaniel. If it also meant getting him away from the Nest by fucking up Riko? Not a problem, not a problem at all. “Can I rely on your people for assistance?” he asked, mind already busy thinking up possibilities; his biggest challenge was being restricted to the Nest most of the time.

“Of course, Nat can assist you with that.” Ichirou cocked his head to the side as he regarded Andrew. “I assume we are in agreement?”

“Make sure the assholes leave Nat alone and yes, we’re in agreement.” Andrew would be all in to kill Riko regardless, but anything that benefited Nathaniel on top was added incentive.

“Wonderful.”

Not really, that would be Andrew wiping out all the Moriyamas and the Butcher as well then riding off into the distance in a nice new Ferrari with Nathaniel beside him, but it was a start. He hummed as he walked away with the whiskey, done with the conversation (and Moriyamas) for the time being; he heard Ichirou huff behind him then speak Japanese a moment later, and found a guard waiting out in the hallway who ‘escorted’ him back to the Nest.

Ichirou might be a Moriyama bastard, but at least he knew when to pick his battles.

The halls of the Nest were unusually quiet and empty; Andrew suspected that everyone had gone to ground after their ‘king’ having a wee bit of disassociation from sanity earlier. He made his way to Nathaniel’s room and didn’t bother to knock before entering.

He found his soulmate huddled on his bed, right cheek bruised and expression startled, with Jean nowhere to be found. “Where’s Valjean?” Andrew asked as he sat down on the other end of the bed.

“Uhm, off with Toby and Leif.” Nathaniel gave him a worried look as he slowly unfurled. “Are you all right? Did Tetsuji do anything to you?”

“Just peachy.” Andrew set the bottle on the floor as he turned toward Nathaniel, sore body protesting from the movement. “Why are you alone?”

Nathaniel frowned as he reached for Andrew’s face but stopped just short of touching him. “Because Tetsuji said he called my father. I didn’t want Jean here when he comes.” He glanced at the door and shook his head. “You should go.”

Aw, was someone trying to protect him from the big, bad Butcher? “I already had the displeasure of meeting the walking sperm-bank who fathered you,” Andrew said as he got up to fetch a change of clothes, tired of wearing his uniform; he figured one of Jean’s shirts and a pair of Nathaniel’s loose cotton pants should fit. Somewhat fit.

“Wait, you did? Are you really okay?” Nathaniel asked in a rush as he got up, too (and fetched the pants once he figured out what Andrew was looking for). “Is he still here?”

“Ichirou sent him on his way and told him to leave you alone.” Andrew took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change, but left the door open a crack so they could continue to talk. He’d ache for the next couple days, but it felt good to get his gear off at last.

“Ichirou’s here, too? Great.” It sounded as if Nathaniel slumped against the wall. “Is he angry? I mean, not that he yells or anything when he’s mad, but you can tell because of how he goes all tense and fake smiley.”

Good to know. “Not with you.” If anything, Ichirou thought a little too well of ‘Nat’, especially since he didn’t have a soulmate of his own anymore, but one thing at a time.

“Oh.” Andrew stepped back into the room to find Nathaniel nibbling on his bottom lip as he dwelled on something. “Why did he talk to you, then?”

“Because he wants me to do something for him.” There was no reason to keep it a secret, not when he’d need Nathaniel’s help (and probably Jean’s as well).

And maybe a certain stubborn idiot would back down to throwing himself into trouble if he knew that there was an endgame in sight.

(Who was he kidding?)

“And what is that?” Nathaniel reached out to tug on the overlarge t-shirt Andrew wore and pull him closer, seemingly unafraid of his presence. “What does he want?”

Andrew leaned his forearms against the wall, which penned his soulmate in; Nathaniel gazed at him without fear but a growing amount of impatience. “It seems that he doesn’t care for his baby brother and wants me to take him down,” he murmured after he leaned in, his mouth close to Nathaniel’s right ear.

“You… Ichirou’s finally going to do something about Riko?” Nathaniel stared at him in disbelief. “And he wants you to help?”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he fought not to slide his fingers into his soulmate’s tousled hair. “He wants me to do all the fucking work, and he wants the psycho gone before he causes too many problems.” He’d keep quiet on the whole family drama for now, especially since Nathaniel had his own share of it.

“Oh.” Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip again, while Andrew struggled not to shiver in response, to lean in and suck on it to soothe the savaged flesh. “You… you don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’ll help.”

Of course he would. “I agreed to do the deal.”

“And I owe Riko for years of- I owe him,” Nathaniel argued, his voice hoarse and eyes alight with anger.

“Fine,” Andrew relented after a few seconds. “But you listen to me and don’t do anything on your own.” Nathaniel nodded and, after a moment, once more reached for his abused mouth, his fingers a scant distance away as he traced along his split lower lip.

“Are you really okay? I know… I know how my father can be.”

That was quite the understatement. “I’m fine,” Andrew insisted as he gave in and slid the fingers of his right hand into Nathaniel’s mussed curls. “What about you?”

The idiot shrugged and didn’t look away. “Tetsuji hit me a couple times but he was too busy dealing with Riko and willing to leave me to my father.” When his hand lingered near Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew caught it and rested it along the side of his neck; that time he shivered to feel his soulmate touch him.

“There and along my shoulder,” he said, his voice husky for some reason. “Yes or no?” he asked, unable to hold back when his soulmate looked at him like that, when he showed such concern, when he allowed him so close without fear. Unable to explain exactly what he meant.

Nathaniel blinked at the question, his pupils blown and reaction slow, and just when Andrew was about to pull away, used his hold on Andrew’s neck to gently pull him closer. “Yes,” he breathed out as his eyes drifted shut. “Yes.”

Later they would talk, would sit down and figure things out… but right then, all Andrew wanted to do was have Nathaniel’s lithe body against his, to do some of his own nibbling on that full bottom lip, to feel a heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own between his lips as he sucked on his soulmate’s neck…

His soulmate.

Nathaniel was addictive and almost docile in his arms, was mindful of his hands while he arched into Andrew’s touch like a cat which craved attention. He was… he was perfect, and only the aches from being hit earlier convinced Andrew that he was real.

He wanted so much more than kisses and lingering touches, but there was Nathaniel choking back on a ‘please’, was him smoothing his thumb over the ‘3’ on a flushed cheekbone. He wanted, and it seemed that his soulmate wanted, too (was it truly real?), yet he pulled away before he did something to ruin the one truly good thing that Fate had seemed to grant him in his life.

(Which he would burn the world to ash to keep safe.)

“Ohhh… wait, no,” Nathaniel breathed out as he grabbed the hem of Andrew’s borrowed shirt. “Why? Did I-“

Andrew flicked at a loose curl that fell onto his soulmate’s face. “That’s enough for now, sweetpea. Don’t want to overwhelm you with my sexiness.”

As expected, Nathaniel went from aroused to annoyed in less than two seconds. “Overwhelm me with your arrogance? Too late, hasenfürzchen.” When Andrew went to complain about his nickname, Nathaniel pushed forward and dragged him toward the bed – unfortunately, just to talk. “Now let’s figure out what to do while Jean’s not here.”

True, they’d have more time to talk about things between them on Friday, they might as well focus on getting rid of Riko as soon as possible. Part of Andrew chided him for being a fool in thinking that Nathaniel was such a ‘sure thing’, but each time his soulmate smiled at him and agreed to something long-term….

Nathaniel did the impossible and made him believe.

(Nathaniel also agreed to hide the rest of the whiskey so he didn’t have to share it with Ben, which meant he had something else to look forward to on Friday.)

He forced himself to leave eventually, aware that Jean was worried about his partner and intent on doing something before the Ravens met up for dinner. Nathaniel’s burner phone in hand (oh yes, Ichirou needed to learn some boundaries in regard to others’ soulmates very soon), he went out on court for some necessary privacy and called one of the two numbers on it (the other was going to be deleted very soon).

A familiar voice answered, sounding a bit confused. “Nat? It’s not Sunday, is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, but it’s not Nat,” Andrew told Kevin Day in French. “He did lend me this phone, though, if you hadn’t guessed.”

It was quiet on the end for several seconds. “Nat’s all right, yes? I mean, you’re his soulmate so-“

“Yes, he’s fine.” Andrew felt a bit insulted by the question. “Shut up with the stupid questions, I don’t have much time.”

“I- okay, what’s going on?”

Slightly better. “This is where you answer my questions and then listen as I tell you what’s going to happen if you want to remain free of the Moriyamas,” Andrew told him. “As well as pay back the friends who got you out of this hellhole.” Perhaps he was taking Ichirou a bit too literally with the whole ‘allow Nat more freedom’, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

(He’d kill the crime lord when he came to it, if necessary.)

All that mattered was that Kevin Day listened and obeyed, and played his part in Riko’s downfall.

(He wondered what it would take to get Nathaniel to go with him to Eden’s.)

*******

IDFK why it removes some of my italics. IDFK.

There you go, Ichirou dealing with Andrew instead of Neil/Nathaniel. I imagine it’s a lot of blank faces all around.

It hasn’t been a good migraine week and busy w/ work, so hopefully this isn’t too much gibberish.

Thanks so much, those of you who’ve stuck with this not-fic.

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iturbide · 4 years ago

Note

I counted, and there's like...3 good dads that make it to the end of 3H, nd thats route-dependent.

Theres Seteth (he's a good dad, if a tad overprotective), Alois (i know he has a wife, and I SWEAR he had a daughter), and Duke Goneril (he's only mentioned once but you will pry him being a good dad out of my cold dead hands)

Claude's parents...I'm admittedly iffy on them just because of that horse thing. But hey, they live!

Hey I’m pretty sure Claude has great parents the horse thing is semi-comic, something even Claude admits in his support with Hilda saying “there’s a trick to it” -- I’m pretty sure that his dad tied him into the saddle and then led the horse around because otherwise Claude would be running off instead of getting important instruction. He is Almyran, after all: shirking on things like horseback riding lessons will put him at an extreme disadvantage in the long run.

(I’m biased, though, I’ve fallen in love with Claude’s parents and I think that he was going through something of a rebellious phase when he left for Fodlan, it’s only after being separated from them and stuck in a hostile land for a few years that he starts re-evaluating things and recognizes some of the wisdom in how they raised him -- even things like tying him to a horse).

But when it comes to 3H...I’m actually willing to count Leonie’s parents (unnamed but I don’t think they were dead), Count Gloucester, Margrave Edmund, and Count Ordelia in there:

Despite being an absolutely horrible person in general, Lorenz’ father did clearly instill some very good values in his son: once you strip away the pomp and attitude, Lorenz believes that he needs to use his noble status to help the commoners who live within his territory, even stating outright that rebellions are the fault of the noble in charge for not seeing the needs of the people met. That’s frank heresy when you look at Edelgard’s belief that sacrificing the Empire’s people to the war machine is warranted.

Pretty much every single one of Marianne’s end cards state that Margrave Edmund trained her in diplomacy and statecraft after the war, which she uses either to help the von Edmund territory flourish (solo and certain platonic paired) or to help others (more romantic and some platonic paired). Even though she has the impression that he sent her to the academy to get rid of her and doesn’t really care about her, she seems to project her own self-loathing onto others out of turn, and it really seems like he’s trying to help her. The best example in my mind is the ‘Crest of the Beast’ she bears: she has so much insecurity about her Crest, believing it makes her ‘bad luck’ or ‘a monster,’ and we know from her supports that Margrave Edmund requested that her Crest not be certified -- which keeps it from becoming public knowledge at the academy that she bears the “cursed” Crest.

Count Ordelia ended up getting in trouble because he was trying to help people. When Hrym tried to rebel against the Empire, Ordelia territory offered aid -- and when that rebellion was crushed, the Ordelias suffered for that meddling by having their children experimented on. Lysithea still clearly cares deeply for her parents, though, because despite intending to dissolve the noble House Ordelia, she wants to ensure that her parents are able to live out the rest of their lives comfortably, pushing herself in her studies so that she can beat out her limited lifespan and ensure she can achieve that goal.

Basically the Alliance has a surprising number of good parents who live -- the only downside is that almost none of them appear in person. Seteth and Alois are the only ones that do.

#answered #anonymous #fire emblem: three houses #also you are correct alois does have a daughter #he loves and dotes on her and his wife to extremes #it's the cutest thing and i love alois so damn much

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years ago

Text

Friendly Comforts

For @funkylittlebidiot for reaching the top role of my Mama Bear discord server! Hope it's to your liking!

Cassie and William were at the coffee table in the living room of the lake house lazily building a house of cards while everyone else lazed about in their own way. Most of the kids were up in their own rooms playing or watching tv, but they decided to stay downstairs. Stephen was in the kitchen washing dishes, and Tony was dozing on the couch behind William with baby Lucy sleeping on his chest. One was drooling and the other was snoring softly, but it was nothing like the way Quill snored.

Cassie was still used to Tony's snoring though. He did raise her for five years, and the lake house was home for her. It held bittersweet memories and of course some fun ones as well. Like the time Tony was having a really good day and helped the girls plant the vegetable garden at the side of the house. He fortunately had quite a few good days, but the bad days still won over in quantity. Getting out of bed had been hard for him, so Cassie took it upon herself to make things easier for him. If Tony slept in, Cassie would go into his room and get Diana out of her crib (or her bed when she was older) and make her breakfast and take care of her until Tony was ready to face the day.

There had been a couple of days that were so bad he had stayed in bed all day. Fortunately those were days when Cassie was old enough to cook for them with the stove and Diana was easily occupied with her coloring books or the tv.

"Was this all ever too much for you?" William suddenly asks after placing a card on top of the ones that Cassie stacked against each other. The house continued to stand.

"Hmm...no. I don't think so. When I was still living with my mom and Paxton, it was always quiet there. Then my dad became Ant-Man and things were more exciting...then we moved to the tower. I had a lot more fun there because there was always something going on. I can tell you that Mom has sighed exactly four hundred and sixty-seven times before the snap." Cassie smiles.

"You kept count?" William asks in surprise. "What's he at now?"

"Oh, pfft. I don't know. With all of the Avengers and seven kids, he sighs so much that I lost count."

Stephen sighs from the kitchen. "Cassie, please stop counting how often I sigh."

Both teens smile and the girl looks back at the house of cards and stacks another pair of cards. They work on the fragile structure in silence up until William slowly starts to place the last card they need to complete it. Before he even gets close, the table rattles from the force of a thump from upstairs and both of them sigh with exasperation when the cards go tumbling down onto the coffee table and some onto the floor around them.

"Ugh...I really should know better to do something like that when my parents are around." Cassie says and makes a face as she starts to clean up the cards.

"Want to play a board game instead?" William asks and Cassie nods.

"How about…" She gets up and walks over to the bookshelf stacked with board games. "Connect Four?"

William nods and Cassie grabs the game off of the shelf and takes it over to the coffee table and sits back down. While William puts the plastic pieces together, Cassie seperates the colored plastic coins and pushes one of the piles over to him. They play the game quietly, occasionally pulling the bottom to the side to let the coins clatter to the table to start another game, and Stephen eventually brings snacks over to them. Strawberries and cream for William, and Cheez-Its for Cassie each in their seperate bowls.

"Thanks Mom." William says softly and Stephen smiles and pats his head.

"You're welcome."

Cassie smiles. "Hey Will...you want to see something funny?"

"What?"

She grins and leans closer to William to tap Tony's shoulder and he grunts and bats her hand away. He was definitely away though...just not completely and that was exactly where Cassie needed him. She had discovered this funny little tidbit while she lived here with him and Diana and every once in a while she would do this to get a laugh.

"Tony?" Cassie says softly.

"Huh? What?" The engineer mumbles but keeps his eyes closed.

"Mom wanted me to tell you that he's pregnant. With triplets."

Stephen chokes on the tea he was drinking from and looks at Cassie in bewilderment but she just smiles and holds her finger up.

"Tha's great." Tony mutters and waves at her. "Just tell him to keep them in for a couple of years."

Stephen wipes his mouth. "I can't decide whether to be happy that he accepts that so easily or concerned. There are a few things wrong with that conversation." He shakes his head and sits on the other couch to watch tv as the teens go back to their game.

"I'm surprised you're not trying to take Lucy." Cassie says and Stephen sighs heavily.

"There has been a recent discovery that she is the biggest daddy's girl. I did all of the work and she wants him." He says the last part with an expression like he ate something sour and Cassie laughs.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later. She's his Valerie."

Stephen snorts and turns his attention back to the tv, and after about half an hour, Friday alerts them that Valerie had woken up from her nap. William volunteers to go get her, and gets up and goes up to the master bedroom when Stephen nods, and he smiles when he sees the toddler sitting up in her crib and rubbing her eyes. When Valerie sees him approach the crib, she stands up and holds out her arms for him, yawning as William takes her out of her crib.

"Have a good nap?"

"Uh-huh."

"Want to help me kick Cassie's butt in Connect Four and share my snack?" He smiles when she nods again and takes her down to the living room where he sits back down and sets Valerie in his lap. "I have a partner now." He grins to Cassie.

"Well your partner is more interested in your snack right now." The other teen giggles.

Sure enough, Valerie was picking up one of William's strawberries and scooping up some whipped cream with it. He shrugs and they start a new game that the toddler watches quietly as she munches on her snack, until she points at a column with her other hand.

"There." She says.

"Oh. Good eye." William praises as he drops his coin into the slot for the win and Cassie pouts.

"She's too good at this game." She says and the beam that adorned Valerie's face had the teens and Stephen melting.

It wasn't even a lie either. Valerie knew how the game was played and knew how to win, and she had easily kicked her siblings butts without them letting her win. It was one game they could actually play with her and not have to stretch out to their planned loss because she was that good at it.

A hitch of breath draws William's and Cassie's attention, and Stephen lunges forward when he sees Tony's fingers curling toward his palm. His arm was acting up again and he hadn't even moved before he let out a pained gasp.

"Oh…god. Someone...fuck... someone take Lulu." He winces and Cassie immediately crawls around the coffee table to take the infant.

"Tony, try to relax." Stephen says gently as he uses his magic to try and help with the pain.

"I'll go get Papa." Cassie says as she stands with Lucy held to her shoulder.

Stephen nods and Cassie heads up the stairs to get Quill, and William cleans up their game with Valerie's help. While Tony's episodes were rare, Valerie understood what was happening so seeing her father in pain didn't scare her as much as it used to. It still bothered her of course, but she knew Mommy and Uncle Quill would help him feel better, and so she usually went to play with one of her siblings whenever it happened.

"Can you help carry our snacks up to my room? We can watch a movie." William asks Valerie.

"Yes." She says and picks up the bowl of strawberries with both hands and slowly climbs the stairs.

William grabs the bowl of whipped cream and Cassie's Cheez-Its and follows Valerie, and they barely move out if the way fast enough when Quill comes tearing around the corner from his room and down the stairs. He shouts an apology over his shoulder at them as he joins Stephen at Tony's side, and William catches a glimpse of a white and blue light coming from the celestial's hands before turning the corner to go to his room. He finds Cassie standing in the middle of the hallway holding Lucy and he motions to his bedroom door with one of the bowls.

"We're going to watch a movie in my room. Wanna join?" He asks and Cassie nods, following the two as she gently rocks Lucy.

Thankfully the infant was in a good mood and not screaming about being taken away from Tony, but they both knew that wouldn't last long. The three get settled on William's bed and place the bowls in front of them so Valerie can get to the whipped cream.

"Friday? Turn on a Disney movie please? Surprise us." William asks.

His tv turns on and Sleeping Beauty pops up next and they watch it quietly until Stephen comes up about twenty minutes later.

"Is he okay?" Cassie asks.

"He'll be fine. Just needs a few minutes." Stephen smiles. "I'll take Lucy now."

"Sure." She says and hands Lucy over to him.

"Valerie? Are you okay here with your brother and Cassie?" Stephen asks.

"Uh-huh." The little girl nods and Stephen kisses the top of her head before leaving the bedroom.

"You better eat those before my brother catches a whiff of them." William tells Cassie as he points to the bowl of crackers.

"He can pry them from my cold, dead fingers." She says with a laugh as she picks up the bowl to eat her Cheez-Its.

Another twenty minutes of the movie pass in silence with the exception of crunching from Cassie and munching from Valerie and William.

"Hey...do you ever get tired of doing things?" William asks and stammers when Cassie looks at him in alarm. "I-I mean you help with Diana a lot and sometimes you help cook dinner for everyone, and I know you do a lot for your parents."

Cassie shrugs. "Sure. Every once in a while. But I just tell my parents I need a day for myself and they either order takeout or Dad makes dinner. They take care of me and protect me and it's the least I can do." Cassie chews on another small handful of crackers before continuing. "I love spending time with Diana, but she knows that sometimes I need to spend time with people my own age and she understands that."

"I wonder if me and Thomas would even be here if you weren't so nice." William says quietly. "This family has been the best thing that ever happened to us and for once we don't have to hide our powers or who we are. I feel safe here...and I want to call Stephen and Tony, Mom and Dad, because they feel like that to me. I don't want to lose any of this."

Cassie smiles and looks back at the tv. "I'm sure you've figured it out but you're stuck with us. Mom would have a conniption if you were unhappy in any way and he would do anything to fix that."

"Yeah... we're definitely putting that together." William nods. "Dad too."

"Pfft," Cassie snorts. "If anyone tried anything, he would sue them of everything they own. Even just for looking at you funny...but he's just extra like that."

William laughs and accepts the last strawberry that Valerie offers up to him and scoops up the rest of the whipped cream with it. A breeze blows against their faces a few seconds later and Cassie gasps when she finds the rest of her Cheez-Its gone and Thomas sitting on the bed and munching loudly.

"Hey!"

"I could smell them from my room." He says around his mouthful and the other two teens make a face.

"First, rude. You can just ask. Second, gross. Close your mouth." Cassie gripes.

"Thomas! I told you not to run in the house!" Stephen calls from downstairs and Thomas's eyes widen.

"How did he know?"

"Mama knows everything." Valerie says and William and Cassie point at her.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #cassie lang #william kaplan #lucy elina stark strange (oc)#valerie stark strange (oc)#thomas shepherd #mama bear au

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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years ago

Text

Homesick

Ok. This is my addition to @panicfob‘s 25 Days of Christmas!

Day 7: Ice Skating.

I picked Steve. This one was really fun to write, but also very personal to me. It’s based on some real events, and clearly not the ones with Steve. Anyways! I hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Summary: You’ve been Tony Stark’s intern for a while now, and you’re having a hard time making friends at Stark Tower. Which only adds to your melancholy of being away from your family during the holidays. Steve does his best to take your mind of everything that’s going wrong

Word Count: 6269

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cancer, slight depression

Tony Stark is a madman.

Insanely generous, and so nice that it makes you melt. But fuck, he never sleeps. And that means that you never sleep.

He doesn’t mean it, he gets so involved in his projects, unaware of time passing. So, he’s calling for coffee, made paint-thinner strong, and it’s 2AM.

You knew this would be hard. Moving away from your home, your parents back in Chicago. Everything you know left behind for a cold, unwelcoming city. You had yet to find a friendly person.

No one in your apartment building even knows what you look like. And most of the people you see on a daily basis in Stark Tower aren’t friendly at all. They tend to avoid you, averting their gaze as they pass you in the hallways and you can’t figure out why. It’s certainly not because you’re assistant to one of the most powerful men in the world; because they definitely have no problem greeting Tony.

He doesn’t hear half of them, his head always a million miles away. And what’s worse, the people you’re sure would be welcoming and friendly haven’t been around in months.

The rest of the Avengers.

They come back to shower, sleep, debrief and then they’re gone again. You’ve only been able to greet them a few times in passing.

Steve was genuinely kind, welcoming you to the team. Sam thanked you for keeping Tony out of their hair, even though you haven’t done anything but rush around after the lunatic.

Natasha stopped in front of you, hands placed lightly on your shoulders as she looked you dead in the eye.

“There’s a number to call in case Stark starts harassing you too much.” She deadpans, tucking a business card into your pocket.

“Romanoff, leave my intern alone!” Stark called and she dropped a sultry wink at you before stepping around you.

That was the first time you’ve seen them. And the only time you’ve been able to actually speak more than a ‘hey’ as you rush past them.

Safe to say, your last ten months in New York have been lonely.

This is leading up to your current situation: the dreaded phone call with your mom. You love talking to her, but she was supposed to wait for you to call later when you had a little free time. But in typical mom fashion, she had to do it on her own time.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you just come home? The holidays are just around the corner. Just two weeks away.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t. Mr. Stark needs me around. Trust me, I miss you guys. You’ll have to send me pictures of the tree.” Your voice wobbles like a traitor, and you clear your throat harshly.

“We will, sweetheart. Do you need anything?”

“No, Mom. I’m okay. How’s Dad?” You ask, the struggle to force back your tears is a true fight.

“He’s okay. Making sausage bread right now.” She gasps loudly. “I know! We can send you some. How would you like that?” She asks happily, and you just have to crush your eyes shut and nod, the lump in your throat making it nearly impossible to actually talk. But your mom doesn’t need you to say anything. She knows.

“Alright, my sweet girl. Don’t cry. Maybe your dad and I will take a trip out to see you. We’ll come out for New Year’s.”

“Mom, I can’t ask you to spend money on me like that.” You croak, your voice thick with emotion. Talking around the lump hurts and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“You’re not asking, dear.” She reminds you. “And we would love to come to see your fancy new life out there.” There’s mumbling in the background, your dad’s deep voice, but you can’t really make out what he’s saying.

You have no trouble picturing him in your cramped kitchen, the cutting board that’s half the size of you taking up almost all of the kitchen table. Flour, big bowls of browned sausage and hard-boiled eggs and olives scattered around it. You can almost smell the loaf baking in the oven and you feel your entire chest twist.

You sniffle, feeling your whole face screw up as you try to fucking hard not to cry. Your lips are mashed together and you don’t dare inhale because you just know that that’s gonna set you off. You open your mouth to try and tell your mom you have to go so you can sob in peace somewhere that isn’t a public stairwell. But you can’t make yourself say the words.

Just to listen to their lives, going on the way they always have, so constant, so loving and generous. You don’t want to stop listening even for a second, no matter the tears blurring your vision or how the lump in your throat now feels like you’re trying to swallow knives.

Christ, you miss them.

“Mom,” you choke.

“Oh, hold on, Y/N. Dad wants to talk to you. I’m gonna put you on speaker-phone...as soon as I can figure out how.”

You give a watery chuckle but offer no help. As mean as it sounds, you like listening to her struggle with it. Your mom, who can’t even manage to sign in to Amazon without help.

“Oh, got it.” She says proudly.

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad greets happily and you fucking lose it.

“Hi, daddy.” You choke, your voice barely more than a strangled whisper.

“Are you crying?” He chuckles and you could just smack him.

“No, don’t be stupid.” You grumble.

“Why are you crying? Honey, we’re fine, there’s nothing to worry about.” He says and you have to cover your face because you’re crying so hard.

“Mom said you were making sausage bread.” You try and it comes out as a sob, but at least the words were audible.

“I am. Want me to send you some?” He asks.

“Yeah. Just put it in a box with you and mom and mail yourselves to me.” You rub furiously at your eyes, even though it won’t do any good. You’re a fucking waterfall now.

“I’m not sure we’ll all fit, but I’ll try.” He jokes and your knuckles dig into the fleshy softness of your eyes. “I know you miss us, trust me, we miss you, too. But we’ll see each other soon. There are so many things to be happy about. You have a good job, you’re healthy, I’m making you sausage bread that you don’t have to share, you have all your teeth.” He lists, knowing one of them is going to make you laugh.

“I know. I’m just worried about you. And, I don’t really have anyone to talk to here.” You sigh.

“Everyone still being cold?” He asks.

“It could be summer here and I would still be feeling that frigid breeze.” You wipe your eyes. “But, hey, at least I still have my teeth.” A noise on the stairs makes you hesitate. “I have to get back to work. I’ll call you guys later, okay?” You say softly.

“Alright, kiddo. We love you. Call us if you need anything.” He says gently.

“Bye, Y/N. I love you.” Your mom chimes in and you manage a mumbled return before you hang up, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.

“Ugh. Idiot.” You grumble, trying to wipe them dry. A hand reaches out in front of you, holding a soft white square of tissue. You follow the tissue up to the masculine hand, up the well-defined arm to Captain fucking America’s perfect face.

“Thanks.” You mutter, taking the tissue and wishing you could die quickly.

“Everything okay? I couldn’t help but overhear...” he has the nerve to fucking look bashful. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.” He shrugs.

You wipe your eyes dry, wishing you could do something about your eyelashes so they wouldn’t remind you how much you can’t stop crying.

“I’m okay. Just homesick.” You shrug, mimicking him without even realizing it. “My parents are still in Chicago, so the holidays are especially hard.” You unlock your phone to text your mom to keep you updated on your dad’s tests.

“I understand.” He nods, offering you a hand to pull you to your feet. You slip yours into his big one and it dwarfs it. “Tell me about them.” He prompts, following you back towards the door.

“Oh, well...” you start uncertainly.

“Y/L/N, get in here. I need a target!” Stark calls to the hallway.

“Sorry, duty calls.” You mutter, ducking into the large workspace, leaving Steve Rogers watching after you, hands shoved into his pockets, a frown on his face.

Steve

“Hey, Sam.” Steve greets, coming into the kitchen.

“Hey, man.” Sam glances at him. “Everything okay?”

“Just ran into Tony’s intern.” He rubs the back of his neck, the encounter still hanging in his mind.

“Oh yeah. How’s she doing? It’s been what? Six months?”

“I think so. I think she’s having a hard time. She was crying while on the phone.”

“Stark finally got to her, huh?” Sam jokes.

“I’m not sure. I might ask around and see if anyone’s noticed anything strange.” Steve says, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. “She said something about her parents, but she also alluded to it being cold here, even in the summer.”

“You think Stark’s being vicious again?”

Steve shrugs. “I hope not.” He pictures the girl’s face, unchanged since the last time he saw her, perhaps a little more tired. Still beautiful, though.

Natasha walks in, digging the milk out of the fridge. “What are you two love birds talking about?” She grins.

“Stark’s intern,” Sam replies.

“After ten months, can she really still be an intern?”

“I’m sorry, ten months?” Steve frowns. Can it really have been that long? He still remembers the first time he saw her face like it had just been a week ago.

“Rogers, you need a better calendar.” Nat laughs.

“Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark needs you in his lab.” FRIDAY comes on the overhead.

“Thank you.” He gives a wave to the other two, heading for Stark’s lab. People greet him with a warm smile, a friendly nod.

He swipes his card at the door and enters. “Hey, Tony. You needed me?” He says, looking around, hoping to spot Y/N somewhere.

“I saw you making eyes at my assistant,” Stark says, elbows deep in a machine up in the high corner.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t making eyes.” He mutters.

“Big, disgusting, doe heart eyes. So, I have a job for you.” Tony says.

“I already have a job. And I’m confused. Am I here for you to yell at me?”

“No. I’m not an idiot. Blind sometimes, sure, but I’m not dumb. Something’s wrong with her. She won’t tell me, says she’s fine. I want you to find out what it is. You’re trustworthy. People tell you shit.”

“And why would she tell a complete stranger instead of you?” He asks, ignoring the pathetically obvious attempt at a language joke.

“She wouldn’t tell a ‘complete stranger’ but I bet she’d tell Steve Rogers. Genuine, heartfelt, romantic sap who just loves to help a damsel in distress. Also. She, probably like every other hot-blooded woman in the last 90 years, thinks you’re attractive.” He shrugs, the wicked smirk is back. The one Steve daydreams about punching off his face.

“What are you even talking about?” He sighs, keeping his hands dutifully by his side.

Tony returns to the ground level and picks up a box, thrusting it at Steve. It’s filled about three-quarters of the way with letters of all different colors. “Fan letters for Captain America. I read some of them, but after the one-hundredth one describing you as the sexiest golden retriever, I gave up.” Tony says. “Needless to say, women like you. I’m not asking you to marry the girl. I just want to know what’s wrong with her.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her, Tony. She’s a person with emotions.” He snaps.

“You have your marching orders, Rogers.” Tony waves him away.

He drops the box back on the counter. “Where is she?” He sighs.

“I sent her to get me coffee. I stopped vibrating, so I need more.”

Steve rolls his eyes and walks back outside, heading back for the kitchen. He stops someone on his way, one of the friendliest people he knows in the building.

“Hey, Mike. Have you noticed anything strange with Y/N?” He asks.

The bald, stocky man frowns. “No, but I don’t really talk to her.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” Steve mutters and keeps walking.

Everyone he asks all seems to have the same answers. ‘I don’t talk to her.’ ‘She doesn’t socialize with anyone.’ ‘I’ve never even spoken to her.’

All of these statements are swirling around his head as he turns down a hallway. Maybe he just happened to find all the people that you’ve never spoken to-unlikely.

In ten months, you don’t appear to have made a single friend in Stark Tower. That’s concerning. It also doesn’t give him much hope for you wanting to talk to him.

“FRIDAY? What’s Y/N’s location?” He calls.

“Approaching the Tower front doors. Mr. Stark likes his coffee from a shop eight blocks away.” The AI reports. Steve bolts for the stairs, taking them two or more at a time, knowing it would be faster than the elevator.

He skids to a stop just inside the front doors only slightly out of breath. You’re standing outside, glaring at the handles with undisguised frustration. He rushes forward and opens the door for you.

You blink up at him, surprised. “Captain Rogers.” You start, your hands are full of coffee cups, eight in total, all labeled with Stark’s name.

“Please, it’s Steve.” He says, holding the door wide for you to step through. You have to pass close to his body, your perfume swirling around him. There’s something else, but he can’t quite detect what.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Want me to carry those for you?” He offers, standing back and letting you decide.

“You can carry the top one.” You nod and he lifts it gently.

“How are you feeling? From before?” He asks as they head for the elevators. The doors open and it’s full of people headed up from the basement. They all immediately stop talking as they spot you. The scrutiny, the hostile feelings emanating from them was something Steve hasn’t felt directed his way in a long time. Not since his days as a showgirl for the USO.

He wants to do something to ease the tension, to put you and the others at ease, but he doesn’t even know what’s going on! One of the occupants reaches forward slowly and presses the button for the doors to close.

“Sorry, Cap. Maximum occupancy.” He says, meeting Steve’s eyes apologetically.

Steve doesn’t even manage to nod in response before the doors slide shut in his face. He turns to look at you, his face is frozen in confusion.

“I should get these to Mr. Stark. He doesn’t like it when he can start to feel his face.” You mumble, taking the tray back from his hands and heading for the stairs.

“Please explain!” He practically shouts after you. But you don’t stop. “Y/N!” He jogs up the stairs, easily catching up with you. “What was that?” He asks, taking the second tray from you.

“Nothing.” You shrug.

“Didn’t look like nothing.” He looks down at you, but you’re carefully watching your every step. He can feel you fighting yourself, some sort of internal battle. Or maybe he’s just hoping you’ll tell him instead of pretending to be deaf.

“It’s nothing,” you repeat. And then quietly add “new.”

“This happens a lot?” He asks.

“Can we talk about something else?” You mumble.

He works the muscle in his jaw as he looks at you. “You never answered my question. Are you feeling better?” It’s stupid. Of course, you’re not. Everyone is treating you like some sort of leper. God, he’s a fucking idiot.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean for anyone to see that.” You sigh, but your shoulders have relaxed noticeably.

“You were talking to your parents, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. I told my mom I would call her later, but she just can’t wait sometimes.” You shake your head, leading him off the stairwell and across the fifth floor.

“Where are they again?” He asks softly, not eager for you to start crying again.

“Chicago. They’re getting ready for the holidays.” You reply, voice remaining mostly calm.

“And what does that include these days?” He asks and you blink up at him before you make a small ‘o’ with your mouth.

“Right. Well, my parents have a pretty big family and some really close friends. So, they make cookie trays as far as the eye can see.”

“What kind of cookies?” He asks as you nudge him up a different set of stairs.

“Oh gosh. So many. Let’s see, there are Russian tea cookies, peanut butter blossoms, snickerdoodles, hermits-“

He laughs loudly. “What are those?”

“Peanut butter, cocoa powder, and I think butter and sugar melted in a pan and then you mix in some oats. They’re a no-bake cookie.” You explain easily, pausing to lean against the railing.

“They sound good.” He admits, feeling his sweet tooth taking over.

“They were my favorite when I was little.” You smile fondly. “Then, of course, chocolate chip, and there’s another kind that is peanut butter with fork impressions in the center, but I can’t remember what it’s called.” You push off and start walking.

“You’re making me hungry.” He laughs.

“I haven’t even told you the best part.” You grin, a delighted sparkle in your eye as you talk.

“I’m listening intently.”

“He makes his own dough and then he makes sausage bread. Mozzarella cheese, olives, eggs, Italian sausage all rolled up and baked.” You pause for a second, breathing hitching in your throat and you’re silent for an entire flight of stairs as you struggle.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.” He frowns.

“It’s not your fault.” You mutter.

“It’s hard being away from them.” He guesses.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that.” You stop on the floor with Tony’s lab and swipe your card. The door beeps and you step inside.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Tony says, glancing over at you. “You know, the elevators work just fine. You don’t have to keep taking the stairs.” He gestures to the table.

You set the coffees down and pick up a small wrench, placing it in his outstretched hand. “I like the exercise.” You say casually.

“Gross.” Tony glances at Steve, his dark eyes seeming to catch something. “Y/N, you’re dismissed. I won’t be needing you for the rest of the day.” He says briskly, and your face visibly falls.

“Did I do something? If I took too long with your coffee, sir, I’m sorry. There was a long line and-“

“Y/N. Stop.” Tony says, setting down the wrench and gripping your shoulders tightly. “You didn’t do anything.” He frowns, looking you up and down. “Are you holding your breath?” He asks and you shake your head, but Steve can clearly see that your chest has stopped expanding.

You’re fighting more tears.

“I’m perfectly satisfied with your work. But I honestly just need peace and quiet right now. Maybe Steve can show you around. He has nothing to do.”

“But what about your lunch? It’s barely noon.” You protest.

“FRIDAY, order me a pizza,” Tony calls, never looking away from your face. “There. Problem solved.” He smiles, turning you around and nudging you towards Steve.

Obediently, you follow the Captain out into the hallway, the door locking behind you. Steve looks at you, feeling the bomb clicking down to detonation. Plump bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyes look, unseeingly, straight ahead. He watches as they fill with tears, but you refuse to blink. Your chest stutters as your breath comes close to hyperventilating.

“Wanna go get cookies?” He asks awkwardly.

The tears spill over and you close your eyes. “Shit.” You mutter, voice is thick with emotion as you brush them away roughly. Steve doesn’t know what to do, so he holds his big arms open offering you a hug. Never in a million years did he think you would actually accept.

You almost crumple against his chest, small hands gripping at the back of his shirt as you try to stop crying. He wraps you tightly in his arms, rubbing your back slowly.

“I feel like I just got fired.” You gasp into his shirt.

“He’s just giving you the day off. Y’know... being nice?”

You’re quiet for a long second, pulling away and wiping your eyes. Honestly, he would have let you stay there for as long as you wanted.

“You said something about cookies.” You mutter.

“I did.” He chuckles. “There’s a good bakery a few blocks away. Wanna go?”

You nod and he gestures towards the stairs. “The elevators should be empty now.” You mutter, heading for the bank of elevators.

“Do you wanna talk about that?” He asks.

“Only when my mouth is full of cookies.” You reply and he chuckles.

“That’s fair.”

***

The bakery is warm, smelling of crystallized sugar, chocolate, and melting butter. Your eyes close slightly and Steve very gently touches your elbow to guide you over to the counter. As soon as you start walking, he drops his arm, respecting your space.

The lady behind the counter is nice, smiles at Steve in a friendly sort of way. “Your usual?” She asks, already reaching for a set of tongs.

“Actually, not this time,” Steve says, glancing towards the display case. “Pick anything you want.”

You look at the glass, perusing over the cupcakes, brownies, cakes, and cookies. They all look so good, how does he expect you to choose?

“Um,” you fidget, glancing at Steve, his lovely blue eyes watching you curiously. “Can I get a chocolate chip cookie?” You ask and the woman nods, grabbing a plate.

“You know what? Let’s just get two of all of them.” Steve says, and you look at him, feeling your forehead pinching together. “Yeah. You need to try them all, and I’m certainly not about to share mine with you.” He grins effortlessly and you feel your face moving in kind.

“That’s fine. I’m not that good at sharing, anyway.” You reply.

“Two glasses of milk?” She asks, watching you.

“Decaf coffee, please? Enough space for a lot of creamer.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” She looks at Steve.

“Coffee, black.” He replies.

“Boring.” You mutter. He rolls his eyes and shoos you away.

“Find a table.” He says, heading for the counter. You select a table toward the back, a little more privacy for what was sure to be a very difficult conversation. You make sure you grab a pile of napkins, getting prepared. Steve joins you a few minutes later and eyes the stack of napkins, but doesn’t comment on them.

The woman brings a tray over; two plates of cookies, two mugs of coffee, one already with a spoon, and a small pitcher of cream.

“Spoon is yours, love.” She says, nodding to you as she sets everything on the table. You pull the mug towards yourself and begin to make your coffee.

“Thank you so much.” You say softly. You wait until she walks away and your coffee is made before your hands curl around your mug and you sit back.

“Okay, where do you want to start?” You ask, letting the porcelain warm your hands.

“The elevator.” He says carefully.

“It’s not unusual. I take the stairs more often than not. I don’t know what I did to make everyone act like that, but they definitely don’t like me. No one but Tony and Pepper. You guys were really nice, but you’re not here all the time.” You shrug, breaking apart the chocolate chip cookie. It practically melts on your tongue and you stop talking to savor the buttery sweetness.

“Oh man.” You hum. “This was a good decision.” You close your eyes and he chuckles slightly.

“No one’s said anything? When did this start?”

“Immediately.” You sigh, focusing on chewing slowly.

“Shit.” He mutters, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Are you allowed to swear?” You ask, peaking at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Yes. Tony needs to knock that off.” He grumbles and you give a little laugh.

“He’s put swear jars on every floor in honor of Captain America. FRIDAY keeps everyone honest.” You say, watching the most adorable blush creeps up his neck.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He mutters.

You polish off your first cookie, shaking your head. “Nah. He loves you. He donates the money to a VA hospital downtown.” You say and he blinks in surprise.

“I definitely didn’t see that coming,” Steve admits.

“What else do you wanna know?”

“When we walked into Tony’s lab, you were saying something about it being more than just being away from your parents.” He prompts.

Your stomach plummets, and you set the next cookie down. You know you’re going to cry, again, and you hate it. “My dad went to the doctor’s a week ago for a colonoscopy and they found some polyps that turned out to be cancerous.” Your voice breaks and your vision goes blurry again. Steve quickly hands you a napkin and you crush it to your eyes.

The thought of your dad not being around anymore is what terrifies you. He’s indestructible, he has to be here forever. No less is accepted.

You take a deep breath, trying to finish. “He’s gone back for a PET scan and now we’re just waiting for results.”

“Do you have a picture of them?” He asks and you’ve never been more grateful for the big man across from you. You dig your phone out and pull up a picture of your parents.

“How long have they been married?” He asks.

“Almost forty years.” You sigh wistfully.

“How’d they meet?”

“High school. But they didn’t date until after he got out of the Navy. He said that he came back and saw her in the bowling alley and everything else just disappeared.” You say, remembering the way your dad’s whole face changed when he talked about that moment. A big, dopey smile and heart-eyes as big as his face. “And the first time he kissed her; he saw fireworks.” You hang your head, feeling totally inadequate compared to their love story.”

You’ve had a few steady boyfriends, but none that have made you feel that way. And none that have looked at you like you were the only thing in the room.

“That’s really sweet.” Steve smiles and you nod. “Y/N, what are you thinking about?” He asks, taking your hand gently.

“Kind of like I failed compared to them. I don’t have any friends here. They had everything so... so together by the time they were my age. Already on their way to buying a house and starting a family.” You press another napkin to your eyes.

“Just because it happened like that for them, doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you for taking your time. Some people are born lucky that their soulmate is so close. Others have to search a little bit longer. It definitely doesn’t mean you’re a failure.” He says, squeezing your fingers gently.

“Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about you.” You say and he launches into an enthusiastic story about the Howling Commandos getting into a drinking contest in a French bar.

He’s a good storyteller, has you gasping for breath as you laugh to his memories. He tells story after story as you both work through your cookies. You realize that this is as bittersweet for him as talking about your parents was for you. He misses them just as much.

It’s late afternoon when he finally sits back, a satisfied smile on his handsome face. You take a long sip of your refreshed coffee and your phone rings. You jerk unexpectedly, digging in your pocket. Your mom’s face is on the screen and your stomach plummets, twisting uncomfortably.

“I have to get this.” You whisper. He nods, pulling out his own phone as you stand up, hurrying outside. “Mom?” You answer nervously.

“Hi, my lovely.” She says, using her serious mom's voice.

“Oh no.” You mumble.

***

Steve finds you out there a few minutes later. He pauses, watching you the same way the first time he found you crying. Hands over your face, shaking from trying to hold your sobs back.

“Bad news?” He asks softly. His hand is soft and gentle on your shoulders, breaking your resolve to stop fucking crying. He pulls you against his chest and you absolutely crumble, letting yourself just get it all out for a minute.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He mutters, rubbing your back gently.

“His tests came back clear.” You manage to mumble into his shirt.

“Wait, really??” His voice perks up and you nod. “That’s great!” He scoops you up and spins you around. “We should celebrate.” He says, setting you back down and using his shirt to wipe your eyes.

“You would want to?” You ask, looking at him.

“Of course. Anything you wanna do.” He nods.

You tilt your head, thinking for a minute. “Can we go ice skating? It’s cold enough and I haven’t been in forever.”

His fingers tighten around yours for a second. “If that’s what you wanna do, absolutely! Let’s go back to the Tower to change and then we’ll go, okay?”

“Deal. Thank you, Steve. I promise I’m not usually such a mess.”

“You’re not a mess.” He promises. “Come on.” He offers you his arm.

***

Steve

“FRIDAY? Where’s Agent Romanoff?” He asks, pulling on a sweater.

“She’s in the kitchen on this floor with Sam.” She replies. Steve heads for the small kitchen to find out what Nat found out. He had texted her when you had gone outside at the bakery.

He just had to know.

“Hey.” He greets as he walks inside.

“Hey, man.” Sam waves with his spoon. “How is she?”

“Tough. Nat, did you do what I asked?” He looks at the small redhead.

“You didn’t give me much time, Rogers.” She sighs dramatically. “But, yeah. These people would not last one second in enemy hands.” She scoffs.

“And?”

“And apparently, Stark’s personal slave is a highly coveted position for some reason. And she got it over someone who supposedly deserved it ‘way more’ so, everyone decided to be a bunch of children and ice her out.”

“I don’t think it worked,” Sam smirks.

“Definitely not.” Steve agrees. “Do I even wanna know how you found this out?”

“Spy trick.” She shrugs. “I sidled up to someone and complained about her. The rest was easy. They couldn’t wait to bitch about her.” She rolls her eyes.

“Thanks. I’m not sure if I should tell her or not.” Steve sighs.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks, eying him suspiciously.

“She wants to go ice skating. She wants to celebrate some good news she got.”

Sam looks at him for a full minute before cracking up. “Oh man, I think I love this girl.” He wheezes.

“Laugh it up, Wilson.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“You won’t even need your hat and sunglasses disguise.” Nat grins.

“Not you, too. I thought you were my friend.”

“You might be in the wrong business, Rogers.” She winks.

“Miss Y/L/N is approaching,” FRIDAY warns. Sam straightens up and they all peer at the doorway Steve had come through just moments before.

“What are you staring at?” Your voice behind them makes them jump.

“Waiting for you,” Natasha says brightly. “We hear you’re going ice skating.”

“I haven’t been in a long time and Steve was nice enough to let me choose.”

Sam stands up and drapes his arm around your shoulders like you’re old friends. “I, for one, wholeheartedly approve.”

“Ready?” Steve asks you, trying not to notice how cute you look in your coat and hat and gloves.

“Ready.” You glance around Natasha and Sam. Steve can see the words before they can escape your pretty lips.

“They already have plans. Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

“Maybe next time?” You look hopefully between the two of them.

“Definitely next time.” Sam grins with a wink at Steve.

***

You were right about it being cold enough. Your face is already feeling the effects of it, flushed and a little wind bitten. You hope you don’t look too ridiculous.

Skating comes back to you easily and you glide around, turning in small circles as you get the feel for it again, smiling to yourself. You can feel Steve watching you from one of the entrances, leaning against the frame.

“Come on, Steve. The ice is great.” You taunt and he chuckles.

“Alright.” He slowly puts one skate to the ice, tentative, testing. You glide to a stop, watching curiously. He slowly pushes out, hands outstretched for balance, knees bent slightly.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, I got this.” He says, completely focused.

“Mhm.” You hum, watching as Captain America wobbles on ice skates. “Have you ever been ice skating before?

“Once or twice, recently...on a mission.” He admits.

“And how did it go?” You ask and he looks up at you, promptly losing his balance and falling on his butt.

“About like that.” He sighs. “Sam still laughs about it.”

You glide over and offer him your hand. He pulls himself up unsteadily. “Well.”

“You don’t have to wait for me.” He says, shooing you away.

“Nope. You were here for me all day today. I’m not leaving you now.” You say firmly, taking his hand again. “By the time we leave, Sam won’t have anything to laugh about.” You guide him forward slowly, giving him time to adjust.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks after a minute.

You glance at his face, finding his bright blue eyes on you. “Oh, I was actually thinking about how nice it is to know that you’re not perfect at everything.” You say with an impish grin.

“Oh, thank god. I can’t live with that kind of pressure.” He grins, starting to lose his balance again.

“Also, I’ve seen you fight. You’re so graceful. How is this so different?” You ask, pushing him a little faster.

“Not sure.” He huffs, squeezing your fingers a little more. “How do I stop?”

“You drive a motorcycle, right?” You ask and he nods. “Isn’t there a brake pedal you push down with your heel?”

“Yeah.”

“Same concept. Or if you turn your bike sideways, you don’t go forward anymore, do you?”

“Right.”

You carefully let go of his hands and do a lap around him, demonstrating how you side stop. “Tada.” You grin.

“Tada.” He sighs and you laugh, skating back over to him.

“You’ll get the hang of it. You’re a fast learner.” You say, leading him around some more.

***

Steve

He does pick it up quickly, but not as quickly as he would have liked. He’s fallen half a dozen times and his ass is sore.

You’ve been so fantastic, so patient. He can easily see why you got Stark’s intern over anyone else. He would need someone patient.

“Are you having fun?” You ask, keeping next to him now that he’s gotten somewhat better.

“I am.” He smiles, pulling you close without thinking. It bumps him off balance and you tumble with him, a yelp ringing out as he takes the impact on the ice and you fall on top of him, arms and legs tangled together.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

You free your arms, but you’re still half laying on him. “It’s okay.”

How are you so warm after being out here for so long? Your eyes meet his and then his hand is brushing your hair back out of your face, cupping your cheek gently.

The rest of the rink disappears as your face drifts closer, pulled in by some kind of magnet. He couldn’t care less that they’re on the floor as people skate around them. Those people no longer exist.

You tilt your head slightly and then your soft lips are pressed against his, shy at first until he pulls you closer and you melt into him. Your hands cup his face and he’s struck with bright multicolored lights flashing behind his eyes. The world seems to vibrate with sounds and time seems to have frozen, just for a little bit. His senses dialed to ten, his nerve endings are alive with every soft press of your lips. His pulse booms in his ears.

You pull back slightly and he watches you, face flushed.

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.” You reply quietly. “You probably wanna get up.” You say, slow to pull back more.

“I’m definitely fine right here.” He mumbles, his arms around you.

You chuckle. “Wanna go get hot chocolate?” You ask and he nods.

“Sure.”

You kneel back and pull him to his feet. Your hand linked in his as you skate towards the exit. He watches you unlace your skates, thinking about the story you told about the first time your dad kissed your mom.

He wondered at the time what that would have sounded like.

Now he knows. And he can’t wait to do it again.

Tags:

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#panic's 25 days of christmas #marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #mermaidxatxheart writes #romance #ice skating #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writing challenge #christmas fanfic #avengers fanfiction

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k-writer1998 · 4 years ago

Text

Rebel Hours (1/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter... at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 1.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know we could’ve done anything other than going to the club.”

“I want to go out with a bang since I’m leaving to study abroad in two days. This won’t be a normal club with sleazy guys hitting on you and grinding galore okay Jieun? You know Changbin and Felix wouldn’t be caught dead in those places so this place has to be good.”

“You say that like they recommended this place Seunghee, you only heard it while you were eavesdropping.”

“Hey, I have to find a way to entertain myself at all those boring parties. You aren’t guilt-free in this either, you do it too!”

“Touche,” I laugh.

“Now stop complaining. I did not put you in that mesh top and tight maroon skirt and take an hour on your makeup for you to whine. You promised we’ll do whatever I wanted to do, remember?”

“Fine, it is basically a crime to look as good as we do right now and not have fun.”

“I mean, I always look this good, but even though you’re really messing up the sexy vibe with that big jacket and hat, you’re getting the point,” She joked.

“Well sorry it’s cold,” I threw off one side of my jacket to expose my shoulder, “better?”

“Let’s go dramatic ass, you're buying.”

"Of course," I gasp, "what kind of friend would I be if I have you paying for your own farewell party?"

"Just shut up and go in already."

We laughed as she pushed me towards the door of what looked to be a somewhat rundown building. Supposedly there was supposed to be a club that’s good for high-profile patrons. As we made our descent down the metal staircase, the building started to look less like an abandoned warehouse and more like a club should. The interior could easily match any popular club in our area although it was a bit more “rustic” compared to more of the mainstream places Seunghee has dragged me to. Before I could really look around, Seunghee spotted the bar and dragged me over before ordering us shots. We downed the alcohol and I could see Seunghee’s eyes scan the surroundings.

“You’re doing the whole scanning for cctvs and clocking the exits again.”

“Sorry, it's second nature when your dad is the CEO of one of the biggest security systems in Korea and constantly drags you out with him to “learn the ropes”.”

“A tragedy” I sigh dramatically, “So another round or do you actually want to try that thing you call dancing?”

“Shut up, last time I checked you’re no better than I am!”

With a laugh, we headed for the dance floor. The spot we found for ourselves was around the DJ booth and boy was that DJ cute. I made eye contact with him and he gave me a lopsided grin. I nervously turned away and pulled at my hat as Seunghee knowingly nudged me with a laugh. Before she could call me out, the music started to fade out as another song came on that wasn’t like most club music. Everyone didn’t seem to care though as the excitement, if anything, grew heavier at the new track. The cute DJ let a toothy grin adorn his face as Changbin came on stage with another guy. Instinctively Seunghee and I ducked away and I gave her my hat to hide from Changbin right as girls surged forward like this was some concert. Seunghee and I were swept to the front too and we exchanged confused looks between ourselves, this didn’t seem normal in a club setting. Suddenly the guy who came on stage with Changbin started rapping and any hesitation towards the abrupt performance was washed away. The three of them performed a few songs before any explanation was given but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

“Hey everyone! For anyone new, we’re 3racha. CB97, SpearB, and J.one,” the DJ pointed at each person as he ran over introductions before continuing, “this club is special. There is a live night once a week and we are regulars-”

“How did you like the performance?” The energetic one interrupted.

The crowd cheered in response and the DJ, who apparently goes by CB97, rolled his eyes at the male for interrupting before continuing.

“As you know, live night only lasts for an hour before we go back to regular activities so we decided to close the set with a fan favorite.”

“A lot of you guys kept asking for this-” J.One started.

“I honestly don’t know why,” Changbi- I mean “SpearB” added.

“so we had to agree,” the former finished.

I eyed the three curiously, wondering why they seemed to dislike this song. Once the music started they started to pull theatrics and a roar of screams came once the fans realized what song it was. Seunghee and I looked at each other before we had to turn away and control our snickering as J.One started rapping.

“Excuse me, miss, but do you have a boyfriend? Ah, sorry, that must have been too direct-”

After Seunghee and I got over the cringey lyrics we were dancing and having fun. At one point the boys got close to the edge of the stage and interacted with the fans around. While CB97 was rapping his part he took off his hat and crouched near the stage that happened to be close to our area. Our eyes connected once again and lord it was like he was rapping to me as our eyes lingered. I was so distracted by him that I didn’t notice some girls getting over zealous at his close proximity and nearly knocked me and Seunghee over, causing her to drop my hat. As I reached down to grab it I saw another one fall beside mine. Casting a quick look confirmed my suspicions, he had dropped his hat. His eyes darted around trying to figure out if he could grab it before his eyes landed on me again. Maybe it was the extra shots I took inbetween dancing or the fact that he was super hot but I swept both of our hats off the ground and gave him a coy smile before placing his hat on my head and throwing him a wink. His smile grew bigger as he gave a small shake of his head before a small chuckle escaped his lips and he regrouped with the other two.

“Jieun!” Seunghee screamed at me in mock shock, “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. I’m 99% sure it’s the alcohol,” I brushed off but I couldn’t bite back the smile spreading across my face.

“Girl!”

With a laugh I dismissed it but Seunghee gave me the you-better-spill-it-later look before we enjoyed the rest of the song. Before the song ended we moved to the bar to beat the throng of girls that would ease off the dance floor once the performance finished. We got some water to sober us up before Seunghee rolled her eyes at her phone.

“Dad changed my flight. I’m leaving tomorrow rather than a few days later. Ugh, he’s going on about the early bird getting the worm or whatever. I haven’t even packed yet!”

“That means you're leaving me earlier!” I whine.

“I mean you’ll have Seungmin.”

“Seungmin may be your brother but he’s not you.”

“Awwww is that affection I hear? Are you actually gonna miss me?” She teased and I rolled my eyes.

“You call a taxi and I’ll pay the tab?”

“Okay, don’t forget to return the hat to the DJ you have googly eyes for,” she teased.

Before I could react she darted away. With a shake of my head I asked the bartender to close my tab, handing him my card. I turned to look at the stage and the others had gone off stage, leaving CB97 to go back to playing music. Once I got my card back I went to go find Seunghee outside, but not before I gave the guard by the door the hat. I explained that the DJ dropped it before making my way out.

When we got back to our apartment we gushed and gossiped about the night's events while I helped Seunghee pack. There was a lot to unravel for the night. Changbin was an underground rapper for one, and it actually fits his image more than “stuck up rich kid” does. We excitedly talked about the performance and I tried to dance around the whole thing with the DJ but Seunghee wasn’t gonna to let it go.

“I know you’re avoiding it but let’s talk about this “CB97” hmmm?”

“Okay so what? He’s cute and I flirted a little… or at least I hope you could call that flirting,” I laugh.

“Uh-huh, cause you do this,” she grabbed my hat from her bed and mocked me before continuing, “to every cute guy you see.”

“Probably if I drank as much as I did tonight.”

“You’re gonna regret drinking that much tomorrow.”

“Why? Because of my cringey flirting or my impending hangover?”

“Both. This is why I say pace yourself,” she laughs.

“Okay I would have but the cute DJ definitely messed with my pace control.”

“If you go back, take Seungmin or someone with you so they can pace you,” she teased.

“With what time will I have to be going to a club when school starts in three days?”

“Whatever. I bet you I’m gonna get an update from Seungmin that you dragged him out to that club within the first month of school.”

“Please I have better self control.”

“Oh yeah I forgot, you wouldn’t dare. Just probably stalk “3racha” online right? Are you gonna turn into a die-hard?”

I chased her around the room, trying to make her shut up as she continued to tease me. The rest of the night was a blur and the only reminder of it in the morning was the splitting headache that came as my alarm rang. Burying my face in my pillow, I blindly reached for my phone only for my hand to come into contact with something else. Looking, I thank drunk me for preparing a glass of water and aspirin on my bedside table. To my dismay though my phone, which still rang obnoxiously, sat on my desk across the room. Damn it. I took the medicine before dragging my ass out of bed to finally shut it off. After going through our morning routines and checking to make sure she had everything she needed, we headed to the airport for teary goodbyes. After Seunghee left, I told Seungmin I would see him tomorrow before excusing myself to their parents. Since Seunghee is gone for the school year, Seungmin decided to occupy her room instead of staying in the campus dorms.

When I got home I fell onto my bed as the hangover finally caught up to me. While lost in thought my mind went back to last night. Although a few things were fuzzy, a certain cute DJ was definitely in my memories. I tried to recall the group name and although it took me a minute I finally remembered. Sadly, just as Seunghee said I went on my phone and looked the boys up. After searching them up for a bit I tried to reason with myself.

“Okay you may be looking them up because of CB97 but their music is good too. You are just supporting good music… God I’m talking to myself now.”

I put my phone down and buried my face in my pillow. It’s literally only been twenty-four hours, how am I already a mess?

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #my writing #rebel hours

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years ago

Text

Kathy Prior Comforts Alastor

Another ordinary day at the Hazbin Hotel. Having died in the 2020’s due to covid, I appeared as a watered down human, not quite a demon unless influenced by Alastor’s dark magic. Originally I was going to be transformed into an angel reminiscent of my supposed spirit animal. But Heaven’s elitism rubbed me the wrong way, thus I refused to submit to God. I was banished down to Hell, living in a cardboard box. I was soon fleeing from the exterminators not too long afterwards. If they had gotten me, I’d either be killed or sent back to Heaven to be brainwashed as a white Exorcist. Then Alastor of all people decided to take me in and I arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. There I was good friends with Alastor, Charlie and Niffty, half convinced that they were the voice actors playing some kind of trick on me.

Aside from my demon form that is activated by Alastor’s magic, my afterlife form wasn’t very impressive. I looked like I did when I was alive, except my skin was ghostly pale, my long hair was gray and my eyes had black sclera, purple irises and white pupils. Although I didn’t fit in with the other demons, I could see in the dark and my instincts were heightened.

It’s not a lot of fun when Alastor possesses me or when he decides to swallow me whole. Apparently, there’s something powerful about me that allows him to heal, feel full and even get some rest. Often times, he sits me in front of a radio and has me listen to several of his favorite jazz songs. The little speakers start to glow and static buzzes in my head. His soothing voice washes over me and I find myself in a daze. My eyes glow red with moving black radio dials and my remaining thoughts are shoved to the back of my mind. Alastor soon has control of my body and mind. He calls the process “getting tuned in.”

I then transform into an alligator/red doe hybrid demon named Cerva. In this form, I’m a vicious killer and cannibal who accompanies Alastor, Husk and Niffty on various missions. Using my sharp claws, teeth and some dark magic, I take down pedos, rapists, criminals or anyone that stands in the Radio Demon’s way. My scaly skin helps protect me from most attacks, though I can still be killed by angelic weapons like everyone else. When he releases control of me and I morph back, it feels like a great weight is lifted off my chest. I cannot remember what I did before.

Like Husk and Niffty, I’m stuck under Alastor’s contract for a while. He persuaded me to work for him at the hotel and that “It’s a dangerous world outside.” Naturally I agreed.

Today was fairly busy. Charlie had a meet and greet event to welcome the newcomers Crymini, Mimzy and Baxter. When I wasn’t greeting any guests, I helped Niffty clean the rooms, make the beds and sweep up the floors. Sometimes I would help Alastor and Niffty make tasty jambalaya (with spicy sauce) and other dishes to serve to all the clients. I wasn’t very good at poker but it was still fun to play and watch as Husk skillfully won almost every game. Often, the characters would mostly talk amongst themselves, me fading into the background, being an OC. I was fine with that…it was almost like watching the show I dearly loved on Earth…except now I was a part of it in a way.

After I finished cleaning beer bottles at the Jackpot portion near the lobby, I heard Alastor and Husk talking not too far away by a pool table.

The cat demon let out his usual grumpy sigh. “Man, what a ruckus. I just served dozens of drinks to these annoying tourists who didn’t even stay. What’s the meaning of that?”

“Why Husker!” Alastor said with a laugh, “Ever since our three new demons arrived and signed up for Charlie’s program, more folks are becoming curious about it. Providing them with drinks and entertainment is surely the way to go!”

“Without any breaks?” Husk scowled. “And why’d you make me stretch my wings and do a stupid dance onstage when I got wasted earlier?”

“It was so funny, I had to!” he chuckled. “Even when you’re getting drunk, you can still do your new job well.”

“I’m here to serve drinks and get my money and booze. That’s it. I’m not some fucking clown you can roll into every little scheme of yours.”

“Hmm…maybe you are.”

“I don’t think so. Remember I’m only here because you bribed me with booze. But even that will only go so far.”

“Come now, my friend, why not liven up a little!” Alastor spoke in a loud voice, making Husk’s ears flinch back. “I provided you with some resources to make your life down here more…livable…or rather less dead.”

Audience laughter came from his microphone.

Husk rolled his eyes and muttered. “Your dad jokes make you a fucking joke.” Alastor snickered. Husk seethed, “Ugh great, now it’s rubbing off on me!”

Alastor pulled Husk in close with his arm, much to the cat’s disgust. “Just have some fun and follow my orders and things will go smoothly. You are my good friend after all.”

Husk’s white furry face turned red as he hissed and shoved Alastor away. “I’m not your fucking friend! You’re nothing but a red psycho freak I happen to unfortunately work under. If I had my way, I’d be a rich free man who could gamble and do whatever I want! Better yet, I’d be far away from all you morons.”

Husk picked up a few cards and shuffled them in his hands. “I had a full house and was about to win the pot. And then you pulled me out of nowhere and placed me in this dump for your own amusement.” He pointed a claw into Alastor’s chest a few times, making him flinch a bit. “When ae you gonna get it past your egotistical head that I. Want. To. Be. Left. Alone?!”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Niffty briefly looked over while she was busy dusting a bookshelf with a white feather duster.

“Looks like our pussy cat’s in his usual bad mood,” Alastor mused in his radio voice. He tilted up the corners of Husk’s mouth into a smile, which quickly fell when he let go. “You know I love to see that smile…”

“Shut up!” Husk pounded his furry fists onto the pool table, making the colored balls rattle. “Just shut the fuck up! I’m sick of you touching me all the time and getting into my face. I’d say you’re lost in this ridiculous musical world of yours…you think you can do anything you want but you don’t seem to be aware of who’s right in front of you!”

The large yellow smile remained on Alastor’s face, though his red eyes looked concerned and confused.

“You’re delusional, thinking Hell revolves around you like some sort of audience.” Husk’s eyes had faint red veins popping out. “You may be powerful, but guess what? You can’t have your way all the time. I learned that lesson the hard way. I may be in your partnership for a while…” He hiccupped, “…but here’s what I really think of you…”

Husk’s breath smelled of booze as the cat spilled out his previously hidden angry thoughts.

“You’re an insufferable…”

Every word was a jab to Alastor’s chest…

“Egotistical…”

He felt the shoves of surrounding boys in a long ago life…

“Filthy…”

The taunts of “dirty boy” and the n word…being forced into a tub of water, scrubbed all over roughly and feeling like he was drowning…

“Immature…”

Authority figures looking at him in disapproval as he auditioned for various radio stations…

“Maniacal…”

Alastor slashing down his hunting knife onto a helpless victim in a snowy wood…

“Heartless…”

Alastor dancing and flirting with pretty women but turning away when they tore desperately at his clothes…

“Couillon…”

Running away as police dogs bit and tore at his legs…

“Retard!”

Pounding on a door in a cold empty asylum room, cold stares from the towering wardens and nurses. Words like “loon”, “wacko,” being mouthed at him as the gray walls closed in…

A sharp record scratch pierced the air.

A black and red gloved hand clutched at Husk’s throat. A tight grip lifted the cat several inches off the ground. He struggled to pry off Alastor’s hand, but his hold was firm. Husk struggled and gasped as he frantically tried to gulp for air. The room darkened and soon filled with radio static and floating red Voodoo symbols. Alastor’s large orbs turned pitch black, with small red dials twitching menacingly. He slowly brought Husk close to his face until they were almost nose to nose.

He spoke in a low demonic radio voice, his mouth not moving.

“Remember who you’re dealing with. I gave you your privileges, and I can easily take them away.”

Just when Husk was about to pass out, he casually tossed him aside. He landed with an “oof” onto the floor. The static and symbols vanished as Alastor’s eyes returned to their normal shade of red. Husk groaned and stood up on shaky legs. He took several deep breaths and glared.

“Guess cats don’t always land on their feet,” Alastor mused as more microphone laughter followed.

“Get ready for another big day tomorrow!” Alastor called cheerfully to Husk as if nothing had happened. Husk flipped him a middle claw in response as he slouched away. Alastor walked on.

“Oh Husk,” Niffty called out. “Don’t forget that you need another bath tomorrow. I‘ll be happy to clean you all up!”

“Suck it, shrimpy bitch!” he yelled.

“Language, kitty!”

Niffty hopped down from the bookshelf and scurried toward Alastor. He looked down at her.

“Well hello little darling!” he greeted to the cyclops maid.

“Hello Alastor,” she beamed. “I was just finishing up my rounds for the day when I heard you and Husk talking. It sounded like arguing…”

“Oh it was nothing, my dear! Just Husk in his grumpy cat mood as usual. I was trying to cheer him up.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, so much stuff to do! Is there anything else I can do to help out, sir?”

Alastor waved his hand, “Nothing at all. You did a splendid job today.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her large golden eye darting back and forth. “You know, you look pretty dirty, no offence. Perhaps you could use a nice clean…” She looked over at his staff, then stared at the area around his legs a little bit too long. “Your staff I can so easily reach…”

She extended her hand with a hungry expression.

“Ha! No.”

Alastor instinctively stepped back, his frozen smile still on his face. He walked briskly past her without another word.

“See you in the morning!” she trilled with a happy wave before scurrying off.

The room was quiet and empty.

What in the world just happened?

A nagging feeling spread through me as I walked in the same direction as Alastor. It was a strange urge to go and talk with him. His tall frame strolled down the hall and up a flight of stairs. I silently followed, careful to stay a distance away and out of sight. As I almost entered my room, Room 42, the feeling compelled me to wander towards Alastor’s room instead.

His room was across from Charlie’s and Vaggie’s, not too far away from Angel’s. The black door was etched with red Voodoo symbols and had a golden deer knocker. Strangely enough, he left it slightly open. I inched closer and peered through the opening into a dim room.

“Come in, dear.”

The door opened wider on its own, revealing Alastor sitting in a dark red throne-like chair on a small balcony. He was facing the sunset sky, but must have sensed my presence. He had taken off his red pinstriped suit and had it neatly folded on a chair, near where his staff was. He appeared to be wearing a dark red old fashioned nightgown with slippers made of deer fur.

In the room, there was a king-size bed with red satin sheets on it, an elegant bedside table and dresser to match. A small chandelier made of bones hung from the ceiling in the center, illuminating blood red carpets decorated with small golden eyes and antlers in rows. There was a large vanity mirror framed by round theater lights and an array of softly lit candles here and there. And of course, there were old fashioned radios all over the room in various sizes. A four-eyed deer head stared back at me from a plaque on the fancy red wallpaper. More disturbing were the various skin-stitched Voodoo dolls and skulls hanging from the ceiling.

A cool soothing evening breeze met my face as I stepped outside into the inferno air. I sank down into another chair next to Alastor. The sky was painted a brilliant red and orange, the magenta pentagram glowing and moving above like a revolving clock.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you sir…” I began. A small radio sat beside Alastor, emitting radio noises and various sound clips. Strangely they sounded almost the same every time I heard them. In fact, his habit of using his microphone for sound effects…it was almost like a comfort mechanism for him.

“Well usually at a time like this I do prefer to be alone, but since you were nearby…”

“I just…wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m perfectly splendid, sweetheart, no need to worry.”

For a millisecond, his eyes told a different story. Not only did I have better senses, I could read expressions and sense intentions better as well.

“I believe there is more than that. I heard you guys arguing. Frankly, Husk was being a bit of a jerk.”

Alastor waved his hand. “That’s what he does.”

“But it was different this time, wasn’t it?”

Alastor just shrugged.

“Charlie and I were talking today and we both can agree: you can’t hide your feelings forever.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“I can sense that you are lonely, deep down. You want to find a place to belong but your sadistic nature makes others afraid of you. You’re afraid to trust other people.”

He turned to me with a deadly glare but I remained where I was. “If you’re planning on killing me, there’s no point as I’m already dead. Hear me out for a second.”

He paused and leaned back to listen.

“I’m not saying you should reveal your sad secrets to everyone. I’m just saying you should embrace the fact that we all have vulnerabilities and bad days. It’s perfectly okay to cry once in a while. Perhaps your search for entertainment is more than just that. It’s a search for your mother, your friends, a search for your true place on the stage of life.”

“I’m never fully dressed without a smile,” he seethed with his plastic smile. “End of story. Since when has an audience member gave the star of the show directions?” he inquired, eyebrow raised. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Well perhaps you need a better script,” I added, arms folded. I stared at his long yellowed nails, his gloves off for a rare moment. “And serious bodily care.”

A brief silence. Had I been anyone else, I’d be a pile of ash.

I continued. “Husk did have a point, though. He wanted to be left alone but you still decided to invade his space. You told Charlie that you want to see people fail, despite her not wanting to hear it. Plus, I’d expect an evil killer like you to take joy in the fact that people run away from you in fear. But you don’t like it. Because you seek something more.”

“I don’t need to hear your delusional words.”

“I’m more observant than you think. You created me to be submissive, but also tough and smart. It’s my duty to serve you and the hotel right now. And you bet your bottom dollar that me and your friends will try and do what’s best for everyone.”

More silence as we watched the sunset in deep thought. After several minutes, I turned to him and couldn’t believe what I saw. I spotted a stray tear fall from Alastor’s eye…and his smile slowly faded.

I covered my mouth with my hands as I let out a soft surprised gasp.

His look alone told me that I’d be demon meat if I told anyone else. Fortunately, I never break my promise.

I thought of all his behaviors I noticed and it suddenly clicked. There was the feeling again, a sense of a peculiar deep connection between me and him. And I figured out what it was.

“Alastor…do you know what autism is?”

He gave me a perplexed look. “Stop making things up.”

“It’s a real thing…but I imagine no one talked about it in your time. Autism is one of many developmental disorders that impairs socialization. Your behaviors appear to be very similar.”

Alastor growled, teeth bared in warning. “I can assure you that I’m perfectly talkative enough. You call me dumb and I can easily…”

“I know because I have it too.”

Alastor’s eye twitched. “What?”

“Do any of these traits sound familiar to you? Being a nerdy child lost in your own world? Being preoccupied and very skilled in your many talents as you grew up? Never quite fitting in with your peers no matter how hard you try?”

Nothing was heard but the sounds of radio glitches. Orange light glinted off his monocle under his right eye.

“Those with autism are often very knowledgeable, setting their minds to something and never letting go of it. But they have a hard time seeing things from another person’s perspective. It’s not that they are antisocial and heartless. Rather, they feel things deeply…but they don’t know how to communicate properly with others around them. Some of them aren’t interested in romance, either.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “I have shows to plan for my demonic audience. I don’t have time for feelings and…”

I continued on. “You’re content with living in your own world of radios, music and murder…because for you, it was the only way to survive and make yourself known in your previous life. Communicating through the radio, playing music, dancing and singing on stage… that is when you feel truly alive. Because your listeners hang onto your every word, not caring who you are on the outside.”

His pupils grew slightly. “You’re making assumptions. You’re forgetting about murder…”

“Bringing joy to others outweighs bringing suffering...at least that’s how it should be. There’s nothing wrong with doing what you love…except when it causes harm to others.”

“Demons kill and eat other all the time. Surely you must know that sometimes death and torture are necessary.”

“You do have a good point. But…I’m talking about your previous life, and why you were sent down here…”

“I killed those racist bastards for good reasons. When you discover there’s an afterlife full of magic, you go out of you way to make deals for power. It’s what I’ve been doing for years. It’s impossible to be sinless, for sinners lost their chance to ascend the moment they died on Earth!”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way. Say we take the necessary steps to prove Heaven wrong…”

“Heheheh, there you go, sounding delusional like Charlie.”

“Just be glad I’m not as distrustful or hateful of men as Vaggie.”

“Angel Dust is probably worse…”

I chuckled out loud at that. “Personal space isn’t in his vocabulary.”

I took a breath. “Look Alastor, I’m not saying it will be all be rainbows like Charlie claims. I’m just saying it’s not impossible to redeem sinners. Back to the main topic: we both have autism. Your special interests are radios, entertainment, murder and dark magic.”

Alastor made a face and shook his head. “That term you mentioned didn’t exist when I was alive,” he said. “Anyone who was considered strange or deviant were ignored at best. At worst, they were arrested, killed or thrown into asylums. If it weren’t for my beloved mother…I would’ve wasted away a long time ago. And despite enjoying the company of beautiful ladies, I’ve never had much interest in intimacy. My broadcasting career was my life.”

This time I listened quietly. He continued. “I’m only telling you all this because you technically don’t exist in the Hazbin timeline. And because…I can trust you enough, like Charlie and Rosie and Mimzy…”

He sighed again. “Like a skilled actor, I learned not just how to present myself on the air. Thanks to my mama, I learned how to socialize and mimic others around me. It was a way for me to be confident in the face of daily disdain. Smiling became my way of life…my survival skill. If I were to cry and appear weak, who knows what might’ve happened to me. Eventually I became famous for my broadcasting and my music all throughout Louisiana, but it still wasn’t quite enough. I then found another coping mechanism…”

The aura around him grew red…

“One that made me feel like I found my place in the world. How good it felt when I could hear their screams…see the life leave their eyes. How from the moment their bodies turned cold, I knew they could never take advantage of me and my family again…”

His black antlers arched slightly past his face. He lowered his head as static faded in and out. Here was the infamous and ferocious Radio Demon pouring out his secrets to me. I almost didn’t know what to say.

He covered his eyes with his hands, long fingers in claw shapes almost tearing at his pale gray skin. His voice broke in a record scratch…and this time he spoke without the radio effect, barely audible: “I miss her so much.” His fluffy ear tufts briefly drooped as he conjured the loving smiling brown face of his French Creole mother in his head.

We sat in silence for a while. “I hope you can see her again,” I said. “But…you need to have faith. Not in Charlie’s program per se…but in yourself. I know change is hard…I’m not saying go play with dogs and use new technology. I mean, don’t be afraid to explore your feelings, figure out what you truly want in your second life.”

Alastor’s remaining tears sizzled off his face and his tufts lifted back up. “That’s easy. I want to entertain others and have everyone do what I want…endlessly feast on flesh and never be bored…”

“We both know it doesn’t work like that. What you want is nothing compared with what you need. You need love. Friends. The joys of music and a purpose. Instead of killing individuals…you need to kill off your own barriers.”

“Easier said than done. What if I don’t want to change?”

“You’ll either spiral downward into madness, or you’ll slowly change for the better while still retaining your good qualities. If you want to see your mother in Heaven, you’re gonna have to put in some effort. I may sound like Charlie when I say this but…I know you can do it.”

Alastor gradually relaxed, his antlers retreating back to their usual stumps. He soon stood up, anxious to have some space. “Thank you for this lovely chat. Now I’m off to read my scripts and go to bed for a little.”

I stood up and followed. “How long do you usually sleep?”

“Thirty minutes,” he shrugged. “I rest by the wall with my eyes open.”

I gasped out loud and bared my teeth. “Not on my watch, mister. Get into bed, now!”

“Deer don’t need sleep.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Everyone needs sleep, especially you! I promise nothing is going to happen. Your shadow will guard your room and suck the soul out of any intruder. Plus you have several friends and kingpins who are loyal to you. You want to truly be the star, Alastor? Start by taking care of yourself. You are the most important person in your life.”

Alastor smirked. “Like I don’t already know that.”

“Good. Now rest.”

I turned to leave before I freeze. Gathering my courage, I turned to Alastor who sat on the bed. “Alastor…may I give you a hug?”

He stared at me, taken aback. No one had ever asked him for a hug before. He almost flinched when I slowly walked toward him.

After a moment, his face softened. “Just this once.” He leaned into my arms and chest. I got over my brief surprise by returning the embrace, my eyes closed, tears falling. I opened them and saw to my utter delight, his fluffy red and black deer tail wagging a bit! We soon parted and he wiped the tears from my face with his fingertips.

“Now darling, don’t forget to smile! You’re never fully dressed without one.”

I laughed through my tears. His charm worked every time. “Hey, don’t forget to ask people if they want to be touched before you do so. That’s lesson one.”

“You’re my servant, not my teacher,” he spoke up.

I spread out my arms. “This is Hell, Alastor, we can be anything. The world is a stage after all!”

Alastor chuckled, but I sensed that he wasn’t content with taking my advice any time soon. But I had tried nonetheless.

We bid our goodnights, me feeling slightly better. Just before I closed Alastor’s door and headed for my room, his whisper of a voice floated by my ears:

“Thank you Ms. Prior. Stay tuned.”

#alastor #autism #hazbinhotel

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