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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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sugar sugar - the proposal

Summary: For their second year anniversary, Henry and Becky are going to Rome, Italy to celebrate.

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Slight Daddy kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: GUESS WHO’S GETTING MARRIED??? OUR FAVORITE COUPLE

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist //

September 23rd 8 p.m.

The sun in shining, the birds are chirping and the soft breeze brushes through my hair. This is Rome in September and I know that if I said to Henry I would want to go here every September, he’d arrange it for us.

Just like he did now, Henry would arrange the most beautiful presidential suite with a balcony, a jacuzzi and the softest bed you’ve ever slept on. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m getting too spoiled, but when I express my fears to him, he simply leans down, gives me a kiss and tells me I deserve it and should enjoy it.

To spend our second year anniversary in a city like Rome, is something I never imagined. I actually never imagined that I would ever spend an anniversary with someone. Not because I don’t have any faith in Henry and me, but more because I never thought I’d be in a loving relationship, long enough to spend these types of anniversaries together.

The two of us decided that the day we met, would be our anniversary date.

September 23rd. Two years ago we met. Two years ago he changed my life forever and I changed his.

Henry holds my hand tightly in his. ‘I love you,’ he says, kissing the back of my hand.

I chuckle. ‘I love you too, honey. It’s been two years since we’ve met.’

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘time flew by.’

‘It sure did,’ I say to him.

‘Not only have I gained the best archivist Midnight ever had, but I also got a beautiful girlfriend and I can now say that I’m the boyfriend of a New York Times Bestselling Author with an extra book deal.’

Even after we spend so much time together and we know each other so well, I still blush around him when he hands out compliments like that. ‘That’s so sweet,’ I say. ‘Where are we going?’

‘A nice place I rented. It’s I think a few minutes from here.’

‘You rented an entire place?’ I ask him.

‘Just one floor,’ he says with a shit eating grin on his face, the one he has recently discovered when he shamelessly flaunts his wealth in my face. I want to roll my eyes, but seeing Henry this confident and cocky and happy, makes me laugh as well.

After our first anniversary, a lot changed for the two of us. I still work in the archives, but mostly because I liked it there and it gave me plenty of time to not only work on my first book, but also on my second one. The following February, two weeks before my birthday, my book got released and not long after that, I reached the number three on the New York Times Bestselling list. My book reached number three! My debut novel. It’s unbelievable. It’s all thanks to the magnificent job Roger and his team has been doing to advertise my book to the public. I was never on Instagram, because I didn’t have a phone that would allow it and when I met Henry, I didn’t really think about it anymore. But now, I’m officially on Instagram and while it’s a bit weird, I still really enjoy to see the beautiful fan art and the stories of the readers about what my book did to them personally.

I moved out of my first apartment, since I was hanging around Henry’s place most of the time anyway. I mean, his place has the private gym and we added a sauna to it, because he didn’t forget my joke from a while ago. My pink and pastel influences are shattered around his place now and in his home office, we placed another desk, so we could work together.

Yes, we are that type of couple.

Despite our age gap, I barely notice it in our day to day life. He is in such good shape for someone who is only two years away from hitting fifty and he is really up to date with trends and technology. I mean, call me digital illiterate, because he had to show me how Instagram worked. I don’t want to say he’s old (because it’s obvious he is older than me), but I thought that eventually I would notice the difference in age.

I don’t.

It’s just that sometimes he says something about his grayish hairs, how he isn’t in the best shape anymore and how he needs to watch his food, after a check up. Honestly, I don’t see his “bad” shape. I only fall more and more in love with him. Besides, the second he becomes a complete silver fox, is also the second I will jump him every chance I get.

‘Thank you for taking me to Rome,’ I say. ‘I can’t wait to travel to even more countries with you. I’m such a lucky woman. All those beautiful places in the world, right at my finger tips. Isn’t that amazing?’

‘It sure is.’

‘Is there a place in the world you want to see?’

‘Well, as long as you are there with me, I’d love any place. Besides, I did my fair share of traveling, I’ve seen a lot. It doesn’t matter to me.’

‘You don’t mind that I’m awfully inexperienced with traveling?’

He scoffs. ‘No, of course not. It makes the experience even better. That way I can show you all the beautiful places in the world and see your surprised face.’

We walk into a restaurant and the waiter escorts us to the elevator. We go up and we actually get out on the roof. My mouth falls open, before I squeal. ‘Honey, this is fantastic.’ I give him a kiss and the two of us walk towards the table. He helps me in my seat, before he sits across from me. He pours in some wine for me.

‘You like it?’ he asks.

‘Of course. Everything you arrange for me I love.’ I look over my shoulder, to see the waiter has left. ‘I love what you do for me, daddy.’

He bites his lip. ‘I’m going to sound like a broken record, baby girl, but I love it when you call me like that.’

‘I know.’ I look around, admiring the view and say: ‘Thank you for arranging this for us.’

‘I want the best for my baby girl,’ he says with a smile. ‘Only the best.’ He holds out his hand and I place mine in it. ‘You know, I sometimes can’t believe I actually met you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when I signed up, I only did it because I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Never in a million years I expected myself falling head over heels with you, when the two of us were only supposed to have a sugar daddy/baby thing. But you were just amazing, kind and caring. Beautiful, considerate and funny. I remember when I first laid my eyes on you. I thought to myself: this could actually be it. This could be the woman I’ll fall for and for me to love endlessly.’

That… Is so sweet.

‘I kept thinking about every pro and con. While our personalities matched, you were a lot younger than I were. While I finally had someone who I can give the life she deserves, there is a possibility she’ll never see me as more than just a sugar daddy. It was difficult, because you were more than a sugar baby to me, though I tried to deny that multiple times. The relief I felt when you and I… That we have what we have. That you stayed when I needed you and vice versa.’

I smile. ‘Of course I did, silly. I have never felt this about someone ever before nor will I ever feel about this about anyone.’

Henry nods. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you,’ he says. ‘I want us to build a future together. I want to buy a house with you, have a dog and tons of kids with you, though it has to be an even number. But before we do that, there is just one thing I need to ask you.’

Henry gets up from the chair, searches his pocket and I see he has a blush pink velvet box in his hand.

Is this what I think it is?

‘My sweet Becky,’ he says, sitting down on one knee, ‘it’d be such an honor if you would become my wife, that you are gonna be mrs. Cavill. Baby girl, will you marry me?’

He reveals such a delicate and beautiful ring to me.

Maybe, maybe, I’m experiencing some shock. I knew that Henry would propose to me one day, he literally told me so many times that he’d propose, but now that it’s happening, I just can’t believe it.

‘Really?’

He smiles. ‘Really, my love. There is no one else in the world I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one. My only one.’

I place my shaking hand in front of my lips. ‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I want to marry you, Henry.’

He takes the ring from the little box, before gently sliding it on my finger. I look at it for a few seconds, before I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

‘We’re engaged?’ I ask him.

‘Yes, baby, we’re engaged.’

I press my lips on his, as tears of joy and happiness drip down my face. I’m gonna get married.

‘Oh yeah, our Becky is engaged!’ I look over my shoulder to see Genevieve, Viola, Noah and Greg rushing up to me and is that Gino I see, with Peter from the boutique?

‘Show me the ring,’ Viola says and I hold out my hand.

Noah lets out a whistle. ‘Damn, mister Cavill.’

Gino gives me a big hug and two kisses on my cheeks. ‘Congratulations, darling.’

I can’t believe Henry flew out our friends to Italy, but it totally seems like something he would do. I bet he arranged a private jet for them and the best hotel.

‘We’re getting married,’ Genevieve shouts.

‘Technically, sweetheart,’ Greg says, ‘it’s Becky that is getting married.’

Genevieve rolls her eyes. ‘Well, Viola and I are gonna be bridesmaids and we’re going to plan a wedding. The ring is absolutely beautiful. Really, Henry, you need to help out Greg when he wants to propose to me.’

Henry chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. ‘I’ll help him out when the time is right, Gen.’ He kisses my temple and says: ‘How about we celebrate?’

✤ ✤ ✤

I keep staring at my ring, mainly because it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and it’s mine. While Henry’s checking the locks, I’m already in bed. This ring still takes my breath away. It’s gorgeous and I bet it was expensive.

‘There she is,’ Henry says, as he walks in the bedroom in just his boxers. ‘My beautiful fiancée.’

‘I am sure it’ll take awhile before I get used to that,’ I say.

Henry steps underneath the covers and ushers me over. ‘But you’ll always be my baby girl,’ he says. ‘Even when you become my wife.’

I hum in content, as I nestle myself against him, in his strong embrace. ‘Just like you’ll always be my daddy,’ I whisper. I place my head on his thick arm, so I can look up at him and still stare at his handsome face. ‘We need to start planning a wedding. When do you want to get married?’

‘I don’t mind,’ he says. ‘We could even elope.’

‘We’re never going to elope,’ I say. ‘Don’t you ever say that again. I deserve a wedding. Back in juvie, both times, I’d envision myself getting married, buying a house, having a family and growing older with someone. I owe it to teen Becky to have a fantastic wedding.’

He chuckles. ‘Okay, we will not elope. What did you think about back then?’

‘A spring wedding outside,’ I say, ‘with pink blossom trees around us. A tent or a large cabin or something where we’ll get married and afterwards, people can dance, eat and talk to each other. A Photo Booth for people to make pictures on. Disposable camera’s on the tables and a photographer. My friends and their family are there, your friends. I want it to be intimate, but not too small, like maybe fifty to seventy people. I want a wedding dress on the tighter side, but I have never tried on wedding dresses, so I might be surprised. But I want to dress to have little illusion sleeves, a veil and a hairband with diamonds.’

Henry nods in approval. ‘Sounds lovely and that can all be arranged. What do you want me to wear?’

‘Champagne colored suit,’ I say. ‘The bridesmaids dresses could be in a pastel color. Okay, who am I kidding? I want those dresses to be pink.’

‘Of course.’ He lets out a content sigh. ‘We can arrange all sorts of things. Whatever you want for the wedding, it’s yours.’

‘And I want the date and each other’s names engraved in the inside of the ring.’

‘I love that.’ Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘A lot to plan, but also a lot to look forward to. I cannot wait to call you my wife.’

‘Oh, me neither. And then after that, we can start our life together as a married couple.’

‘At least four kids, right?’ Henry jokes.

‘At least,’ I say in all seriousness.

‘Why don’t you want an uneven number?’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘Because I come from a family of uneven number. I don’t want that. I know, it’s stupid, but…’

‘It’s not stupid, it’s understandable,’ he says. ‘So, for imaginary sake, let’s say you and I have five kids.’

‘Damn.’

‘Imaginary sake, baby girl, remember that,’ he snickers. ‘And then we have twins, making it seven.’

‘We’ll go for the eighth,’ I say to him. ‘Really, Henry.’

He laughs. ‘Wow, you’re quite something.’

‘You’re up for it?’

‘With you? Of course. I can’t wait to have multiple mini you’s and me’s running around to place.’ He pulls me closer and says: ‘You’ll be an amazing mother, I just know it.’

‘And you’ll be an amazing dad.’ I circle my finger around his chest. ‘Would you mind if I stopped working as your archivist and become a stay at home mom, who also writes?’

He shakes his head. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Whatever you want, I support you.’

‘You don’t think it’s weird?’

He frowns. ‘Why would I think it’s weird? Honestly, baby girl, if you wanted to become a career woman, I’d support it. If you want to become a stay at home mom, I also support it. No matter what you do, I’m your biggest supporter and fan.’ He gives me a sweet peck on my lips. ‘Don’t you worry about those things, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I whisper, already a bit more at ease. ‘You know, it has always been my dream to become a mother.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s just that I figured I’d never meet someone who I wanted kids with. With the dysfunctional family I’m from, I wanted a partner who I could trust and rely on. And that partner is you, Henry. My future husband.’

✤ ✤ ✤

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #sugar sugar the wedding #becky kim

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years ago

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Now In Color

Wanda x reader x Vision

After Wanda and Y/N's newly discovered pregnancies, the three had decided to call Westview's doctor for a home visit.

Doctor Neilson was a balding man, who's opinions were on the misogynistic side.

"Yep! Definitely pregnant. Both of you." The doctor determined after having pressed a stethoscope to both women's stomachs.

"Believe it or not, we actually figured that out already," Y/N said, shaking her head once the man's back was to her.

"This has just kinda taken us by surprise," Wanda explained, one hand clutching Visions and the other on Y/N's thigh.

"It's just kinda sudden. Quite suddenly, wasn't it. I mean, practically overnight. I mean, how did this even happen?" Vision stammered, causing the doctor to stare at him blankly.

"You see when a man, a woman, and a woman love each other very much."

"Well, we're just tickled pink or blue!" Wanda joked, interrupting the doctor, as the three rose from the couch.

"You're at about four months now. Is that accurate for the two of you?" He asked, receiving nods from both women. "I thought as much. We like to let the little ladies keep tabs on their growing babes with fruit." Neilson told Vision. "Makes it simple for them. At four months, the fetus is about as big as a pear. At five months, papaya. Six grapefruit, seven pineapple, and eight honeydew."

"So we both have pears?" Y/N questioned.

"You both have pears." The doctor confirmed with a nod. "The three of you must have been planning for months to sync the pregnancies up like this." He added with a chuckle.

"Hypothetically speaking, what size fruit would it be at say twelve hours?" Vision asked, causing the doctor to blanch.

"Pardon? Twelve hours?"

"Well, I think this line of questioning is fruitless." Wanda cut in with a forced polite laugh as she moved to stand beside the doctor.

"Hypothetically speaking, should we be concerned?" Vision asked, rounding the back of the couch, holding Y/N's hand in his.

"Hypothetically speaking, every new father-to-be gets nervous." The doctor patronized, slapping a hand on Vision's neck.

"Well, I have nerves of steel, so there goes your theory, Mr. Doctor." Vision said, pulling away from the man.

"Vis, why don't you see the doctor out?" Y/N suggested, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist.

"That sounds like a great idea." Wanda agreed, nodding at the two with a smile.

"Of course." Vision nodded. "Thank you so much for dropping by Doctor Neilson." He said, leading the doctor out of the house as Wanda and Y/N smiled at one another.

"Well, I'm just glad you caught me in time." The doctor commented once outside. "I'm taking the wife on vacation this afternoon."

"Oh, well, I hope you have a nice holiday," Vision told the man. "Hey, Herb!" Vision called to their neighbor.

"Listen, can you keep the news of the girls, you know, just between us?" Vision asked the doctor. "It's that everything's happening so quickly, and we'd like to keep the news just in the family now."

"Of course. Mum's the word." The doctor assured. "I'm off! Bermuda, baby!"

"Yes." Vision waved Neilson off before he was distracted by the loud sound of machinery to his right. "Hey Herb, I think you might've taken the hedge-trimming a little too far there, old chum!" Vision joked, watching as his friend cut into his brick wall.

"So, I have." Herb laughed, continuing his brickwork. "Thanks, buddy."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Vision said slowly, gnawing on his lip before turning away. "Huh. Darlings, the strangest thing just happened outside with, whoa Nelly!" Vision exclaimed when his wives turned around. "Are you both bigger?"

Wanda turned to look at her stomach but knocked the fruit bowl as she tried.

Vision sped over and caught the fruit before it hit the ground.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, looking down.

"I can't actually tell from this angle," Wanda said, gazing down.

"I can't even see my feet." Y/N sighed, looking up and at Wanda's own stomach. "Oh, God." She said, causing Wanda to look up.

"Yeah, we could be a little bigger." Wanda nodded, seeing the size of Y/N's stomach.

"I can't wait to be a proud papaya." Vision joked, proudly holding up the papaya.

"Not one of your best, Vis," Wanda told him with a grin.

"Ah, so you're admitting I'm funny?" Vision asked as Y/N took the fruit out of his hand and moved towards the kitchen.

"I don't think she ever said that." Y/N teased as Wanda followed her and stole the papaya out of her hands. "I'm not even sure those words have ever been uttered before."

"I've heard you laugh at my jokes before. At least once."

"That's because we didn't want to make you feel bad," Wanda said, cutting the papaya into small chunks.

"The first lesson we'll ever teach you, little ones, is to pretend that your daddy is funny," Y/N said to her bump, one hand on Wanda's.

"That seems rather dramatic, don't you think, darling?"

"No." Both women responded teasingly.

"You know what we should start soon?" Wanda questioned. "A nursery."

"I've noticed there are a large number of stores in the town square that cater towards babies and first-time parents." Vision informed the two.

"That's great! Perhaps we could go after lunch." Wanda suggested, snacking on the fruit before her.

"We'll need to make a list," Y/N suggested as she made herself a sandwich. "Of furniture, clothing, books, everything we'll need."

"I could write the list while you and Wanda have lunch." Vision proposed.

"That sounds like a plan." Wanda smiled at him sweetly.

"I'm gonna make myself a coffee first. Do you want a tea, Wand?" Y/N asked, grabbing a coffee cup.

"You might want to make a tea for yourself," Wanda said. "We can't have coffee while we're pregnant."

"None at all?" Y/N asked with wide eyes, causing both partners to nod. "You are so lucky I love you, little one," Y/N said to her bump.

Hours later, the three of you had returned from your shopping trip and were beginning to set up the nursery.

Vision was sat on the rocking chair, reading one of the many books on pregnancy he'd bought. Y/N was organizing the boxes of baby clothes, all of which everyone agreed they'd needed. And Wanda was using her magic to set up the rest of the room.

The three of you had had a long conversation about the theme of the nursery, which room they would have, and whether or not you would need one or two. Eventually, the three of you had come to an agreement on the nursery's theme. And you had all decided that the babies could share a nursery.

"Nesting, the overwhelming urge during pregnancy to clean, organize and prepare the home for the new baby." Vision read.

"See? You're an expert already. We've got nothing to worry about." Wanda assured, floating a mobile out of its box.

"We have nothing to worry about? We have two babies due at the same time." Y/N said, folding a purple baby grow. "They're gonna team up against us."

"We also have to worry about morning sickness, mood swings, aching backs and feet." Vision read before jumping out of the chair. "Darlings, you should probably sit down."

"Don't be silly. We're fine." Y/N soothed the android. "Women do this all the time. This is a natural part of life."

"We're excited, Vis," Wanda said as Y/N moved to stand beside her. "There's no morning sickness or mood swings, just excitement. And happiness, and, oh!" Wanda gasped. Y/N's stomach had brushed against hers, and suddenly, both women felt kicking.

"Kicking already?" Vision asked, dropping his book and pressing one hand to each woman's belly.

"It feels so weird. In a good way." Y/N smiled her hand atop Visions.

"It's kind of fluttery." Wanda giggled, her eyes shining with happiness.

After Wanda said that, the three noticed a quiet flapping sound in the room and turned to see the butterfly mobile had turned into real butterflies.

"Did I do that? I didn't mean to." Wanda said as Y/N reached out for a blue butterfly.

"Uh? Darling?" Vision asked, leaning his nose out, where an orange butterfly sat. "Hello, little fella." Vision chuckled as Wanda moved it off his face. "Well, if that was the first kick," He started as Wanda opened the window, and Y/N caused a gentle breeze to push the insects from the room. "That puts you two at about six months!" Vision gasped.

"And I thought you had super speed," Y/N commented, closing the window.

"I just can't keep up." Vision sighed. "Please don't misinterpret." He said as Wanda moved to stand before him. "I can't wait to meet you, little Billy!" He cooed, leaning down to Wanda's stomach.

"Billy?" Wanda asked, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah. I just figured with two pregnancies, the odds of having a boy are at fifty percent." Vision informed her.

"Well, I was just thinking Tommy for a boy. You know, a nice classical, all-American name." Wanda explained.

"Yeah, Tommy, but there's also Billy, isn't there?" Vision said, causing Y/N to giggle.

"After Shakesphere?" Y/N questioned, raising a brow.

"Of course! You know, "All the world's a stage. All the men and women, merely players." Vision quoted.

"Well, I guess there's only one solution. Leave it to Y/N," Wanda said, and the two turned to the woman who raised her hands.

"I like both names," Y/N said sagely. "But if it's a girl. I like Luna." She told the two.

"Well, we ought to decide soon. I estimate the babies are due, it's not a constant progression, assumingly logarithmic, but were I to graph the fetal development thus far," Vision muttered to himself while Y/N and Wanda shared fruit out of a bowl.

"They're going to be here before you figure it out," Wanda informed their husband.

"Nearest I can conclude is that Luna and Billy,"

"Luna and Tommy."

"Are due Friday afternoon." Vision concluded, looking slightly scared at the revelation.

"In three days?" Y/N gasped, eyes wide.

"Maybe we should sit down," Wanda said, rushing out to the living room with Y/N and Vision at her side.

Wanda and Y/N sat at the kitchen island, nursing cups of tea (to Y/n's disgruntlement) while Vision sat at the dining table, a baby doll in front of him.

"I think we have an understanding." Vision said, staring the doll down. "Start the clock." Vision stated, setting the toy down, and when Wanda pressed the timer, he began to change it at rapid speed. "Done!" He announced, raising his hands.

"A new personal best!" Y/N announced with a grin as Wanda clapped.

"Yes!" Vision exclaimed proudly. "We are nothing if not prepared."

"Ooh!" Wanda gasped, her hand flying to her engorged belly.

"Sweetheart?"

"Darling?"

"Do any of your books talk about this?" Wanda asked, gently rubbing her bump. "It's not painful, but it's strange."

"A tightening sensation?" Vision asked, grabbing a nearby book and flipping through the pages.

"Yep, that's it."

"Yes. Where was it? Where was it? Aha! "Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor, usually starts in the third trimester. Named after John Braxton Hicks in 1875." Vision began to recite.

"Sweetheart." Y/N cut him off as Wanda stared at him unimpressed.

"Sorry." Vision apologized. "Are you feeling any similar sensations Y/N?" Vision asked, rising to his feet as Y/N nodded.

"I just thought it was the baby moving," Y/N told her partners.

"This is excellent! This gives us a chance to work on our breathing exercises." Vision said, now standing before both his wife's. "It should go like this." He added before demonstrating the breathing pattern.

Both women copied his breathing a couple of times, but it didn't work.

"I can still feel it," Wanda told him.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh!" Y/N gasped, her hand clutching onto the counter tightly as the room began to heat up.

"Honey, turning it up a bit too high," Wanda said, fanning herself at the sudden temperature rise.

"I'm sorry, I just got so warm all of a sudden," Y/N said, wiping her forehead.

"Many women experience a change in temperature during pregnancy." Vision said before Wanda let out a loud grunt.

And that was the chaos began.

The kitchen tap began to run on high, the lights flickered, the fridge rattled, and the washing machine shook. All the while, the temperature remained ungodly warm.

"What the Dickens?"

"Oh, it's so warm."

"What is going on?"

"I think we should perhaps abandon the kitchen." Vision suggested, grabbing both women's hands and pulling them out of the moving kitchen.

The three made it into the dining room when the lights began to get brighter and brighter until they all burst.

The three were now standing back to back, hands raised and ready to defend themselves when everything got quiet.

"It stopped," Wanda whispered, afraid if she spoke too loudly, it would start again.

"Good," Y/N said as her body temperature and the room got cooler.

"I'll go check on the neighbors." Vision volunteered before rushing from the house.

As it turns out, the neighborhood did experience the after-effects of the women's contractions.

The weather had changed from a spring day to what felt more like a summer's day.

And many homes had lost their power.

"It appears the whole block is out." Vision informed the two as he reentered the house. "Oh, and be prepared to hear about the abnormal weather change."

"And all that was just from fake contractions." Wanda shook her head.

"Who knows what damage we'll cause when the show really gets rolling?" Y/N asked rhetorically.

"Do you think they know it's our fault?" Wanda asked Vision.

"Our neighbors?" Vision confirmed.

"Well, yes. With all the close calls we've been having, it seems the people of Westview are always on the verge of discovering our secret." Wanda explained, causing both her partners to stop.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured.

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Y/N wondered as she and Vision sat beside Wanda on the couch.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hart with dinner. Outside with Herb." Vision mused.

"The thing with Dottie," Y/N added.

"I think there's something wrong here, darlings," Vision told his wives.

"I don't think you're wrong." Y/N agreed while Wanda stared between the two.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured. "The truth is, we are in uncharted waters." He said as he and Y/N sat beside Wanda on the couch. "And you know what? I am as anxious as you both."

"We just don't know what to expect," Wanda said, getting nods from both her partners.

"Nope." Vision agreed.

"Will they be human or come out red and gold?" Y/N asked, causing Wanda to smile. "Or will they be a bit of both?"

"If they're anything like their mothers Luna and Billy will be perfect." Vision promised.

"You mean Tommy." Wanda corrected with a smirk.

"Maybe."

Before the argument over baby names could continue, Wanda let out a loud gasp, causing Vision and Y/N to jump to their feet.

"Oh no, darling, are you all right?" Vision gasped, staring at Wanda with panic in his eyes.

"This is a real one!" Wanda exclaimed, leaning back on the couch.

"What?"

"I thought you said Friday afternoon!" Wanda demanded as Y/N kneeled in front of her placed a hand on Wanda's bump.

"Well, I didn't consider that the timings between developmental benchmarks could be quite random!" Vision defended himself as he began to float in the middle of the living room.

"Both of you need to calm down!" Y/N snapped, rubbing Wanda's stomach gently. "Breathe, both of you." She added before demonstrating the breathing techniques Vision had taught them.

Wanda began to follow along, and when both women turned to face him, Vision copied them.

As he centered himself, Vision was able to control his flight and stand on his own two feet. Wanda and Y/N, who needed help up, moved to stand in front of their husband took one of his hands each.

"Better?" Wanda asked, pressing Vision's hand to her stomach.

"Yes, darling, thank you, it's passing." Vision nodded as lightning cracked, and it began to pour in the living room.

"Oh, that's me." Y/N gasped, looking down. "I think my water broke."

"What?" Wanda and Vision gasped, now both soaked from head to toe.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling contractions?" Vision demanded as he pulled both women under a table.

"I wasn't!" Y/N exclaimed before letting out a whine, hand flying to her stomach. "I was fine until I touched Wanda's stomach!" She cried as Wanda took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Do you think the babies are connected?" Wanda asked as Vision gently placed his hand on Y/N's stomach.

"There is a great possibility." Vision nodded. "It would explain why both pregnancies have been moving at the same rate." He said. "I'm sorry, but is there any chance you could stop the rain, please, darling?"

"I think I'm the one causing this now," Wanda said. "My waters broke."

"Well, I was just reading about the advantages of water birth." Vision joked.

Y/N crawled from under the table, and while knelt on the floor, she flicked her wrists and stopped the water flow.

"Oh, thank goodness." Wanda sighed.

"Let me help you up, dears." Vision said, crawling out of the table and helping both women to stand. "There we are."

"Oh, what a mess." Wanda gasped at the ruined furniture.

Wanda caused the sliding doors to fling open, and Y/N created a wind to dry off the three and their home.

"That's much better." Vision commented. Before he could say another word, both Y/N and Wanda were letting out groans and curling over, causing him to rush forward.

"Sweetheart, do you think it's time to,"

"Call the doctor." Vision nodded, rushing into the kitchen while Y/N pushed Wanda into a chair and sat herself.

"Yeah."

"Yes, I do, dear." Vision said, picking up the phone before slamming it down in anger. "Damn, the phones are down, too. I better run." He said, rushing towards the dining room. "Except he might have already left for vacation."

"What now?"

"At a time like this?"

"Well, in fairness, darlings, the babies are approximately nine months early." Vision tried to soothe the women. "I better leg it. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Wanda nodded, breathing heavily through her nose.

"Y/N?"

"We'll look after each," Y/N said with a nod.

"I will be back as soon as I can." Vision promised, pressing a kiss to both women's temples before speeding out of the house.

"Disguise!" Y/N and Wanda called, but Vision was already gone.

"You two really know how to make an entrance, huh?" Y/N joked before a chittering sound caused her to freeze.

"That's coming from the nursery," Wanda whispered, slowly rising to her feet and beginning to make her way to the room.

"Why are you going towards the scary noise?" Y/N quietly asked as she followed after her wife.

The two were slowly tiptoeing towards the room, barely breathing, as they tried to catch sight of the noisemaker.

DING DONG!

The doorbell rang loudly, causing both Y/N and Wanda to jump.

"Don't!" Y/N stopped her wife from getting the door. "No-one knows about this." She said quietly, gesturing to their bumps.

"Oh shoot!" Wanda sighed, rushing to the coat closest and causing two overcoats to float out.

When both women's bumps were significantly covered, Wanda opened the door to reveal Geraldine standing there with a smile.

"Wanda, Y/N, what's up?" She asked, looking the two up and down. "It's one hundred and ten degrees out. Are you making a fashion statement? Didn't you feel the temperature rise?" Geraldine asked, making her way into the house.

"Hi, Geraldine. You know, now is not really a good time." Wanda said apologetically.

"No, no, no, they're foxy. You'll have to let me borrow it sometime. Both of 'em." Geraldine said, talking about the coats both women were wearing. "But first, I gotta borrow a bucket."

"A bucket?" Y/N asked, cocking her head.

"Not to wear, to use." She clarified. "Somehow, all the pipes in my ceiling burst at once, and I gotta bail myself out," Geraldine told the two.

"I think you'll need more than one," Y/N commented.

"Just stay right here," Wanda told the woman. "We might have a couple in the kitchen. Y/N a little help?"

"Of course." Y/N nodded before the two ran off into the kitchen.

"I think they're just under the sink!" Wanda called before letting out a little scream at a painful contraction.

"Guys?"

"Everything's fine!" Y/N called out as Wanda's and her coat changed. "Just stay there!"

"Are you alright in there?" Geraldine asked.

"Yes! Everything's fine!" Wanda called.

"We're just looking!" Y/N added before letting out a loud grunt at her own contraction.

"I'll come help!" Geraldine offered, and Y/N and Wanda could hear her footsteps rushing towards them.

"No!" The two exclaimed.

"No, thank you." Wanda corrected, pulling off her coat, urging Y/N to do the same, and covering her stomach with a fruit bowl.

Geraldine entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the supply cupboard while Y/N grabbed a book from the counter and hid her stomach.

"Would you look at that?" Geraldine asked, turning to face the married women.

"What?"

"Fruit." Geraldine grinned, walking towards Wanda's fruit bowl. "Thank you!" She said, taking an apple and throwing it to herself.

"Well, good luck with the leak," Wanda said as she and Y/N attempted to usher Geraldine out of the house.

"Oh, thank, oh! Say girls, I have got a question for you two!" Geraldine said, moving to the couch. "You know how I've been working that temp job, right?" She wondered, taking a seat. "Well, my boss, Mr. Haddox, he was going crazy yesterday." She began to recount, but neither woman could focus on her words.

Neither woman could focus on Geraldine because right behind her, a stork was stalking around the room.

"Oh, look at me going on and on like you got all the time in the world." Geraldine sighed as she rose to her feet. "Let me go on and get out,"

"Wait, no!" Wanda exclaimed before Geraldine could turn around.

"Tell us all about the temp job!" Y/N demanded.

"There's my girls!" Geraldine smiled, sitting back down. "So yesterday, my boss, Mr. Haddox, was going crazy working on the new slogan for that new breakfast cereal. You know, the one with the little marshmallow moon men?"

"Yeah, of course." Y/N absent-mindedly agreed as she stared at the stork, walking around the living room.

"Right, so it's about ten minutes before the big presentation, and Mr. Haddox has got nothin'. Nothin', that is, except the worst case of hiccups I ever did see." Geraldine continued her story as Wanda tried to vanish the stork.

But nothing happened. The stork didn't disappear in the cloud of red smoke. Instead, the bird flapped its wings almost angrily at the attempt.

"I'm telling you he couldn't get one word out, let a whole pitch." Geraldine laughed. "So I'm trying every trick in the book to help this poor man. I'm hidin' behind filing cabinets and jumpin' out when he least expects it, like, boo!" She exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump and Wanda to scream as she threw an orange at the stork.

"Jesus, you two." Geraldine sighed, clapping a hand to her chest.

The stork had run away after Wanda threw fruit at it, but it was now making loud chipering noises, causing Geraldine to jump to her feet.

"What was that?" Geraldine demanded, looking around the room fearfully.

"What was what?" Y/N deflected, tilting her head to the side.

"Did you not hear that?"

"I don't think I heard anything. Did you, Wanda?"

"No."

"It was like a chattering sound, like, um," Geraldine tried to explain.

"Oh, like a" Wanda made a chittering sound herself. "That was our new icemaker built right into the fridge." She lied.

Geraldine turned to face the kitchen before turning back with a smile.

"Oh! You're fancy." Geraldine complimented, settling back into her seat as Wanda and Y/N chuckled nervously. "Let me get back to this story." She said before launching back into her recount.

It was getter harder for Y/N and Wanda to hide the fact they were in labor. Both women were stifling grunts and whimpers, only managing to do so by clutching the other's hand tightly.

Vision had to be back soon, right?

"So now, at this point, I am helping Mr. Haddox do a handstand under the water cooler because you know why not try a little upside-down action. Drink those hiccups away. And wouldn't you know it, at that moment, in walks the client?"

"Oh no." Y/N gasped as the stork reentered the room.

"Oh yes. Oh yes." Geraldine nodded, oblivious to the bird beside her. "But you know me, girls, I keep my cool no matter what's goin' down. And I look at the client, and I look at Mr. Haddox's feet floating in the air next to me, and I look back to the client, and I say, "Gravity Os, launch into your day, the right way." Geraldine explains with a cackle, not noticing the stork pecking at her fish pants. At her loud laugh and her shifting her legs, the stork runs away, back into the nursery.

"Oh, thank you!" Wanda laughs in relief as Y/N sank back into her chair with a sigh.

"Yeah, and that's what Mr. Haddox said right before he told me to clean out my desk," Geraldine said, taking a bite of her apple.

"Oh, Geraldine." Wanda gasped.

"Surely he didn't fire you?" Y/N asked, shaking her head at the idea.

Despite neither woman really listening to Geraldine's story, she was still their friend. And they would hate for her to be disappointed like that.

"Oh, sugars." Geraldine sighed before a grin fought its way onto her face. "He hired me!" She exclaimed.

"Oh!"

"Congratulations!"

"I landed a promotion!" Geraldine reiterated, standing with a wide smile. "And now that I've gone all corporate, I need some office supplies. Which brings me to my question. Do ya'll still keep those in your spare room?" She asked, moving towards the old spare room, now nursery.

As Geraldine moved towards the open room, Y/N and Wanda jumped to their feet, Wanda putting her fruit bowl down and Y/N dropping her book.

"Because I was hoping you wouldn't mind sharing with your good friend," Geraldine said, entering the nursery. The nursery where the stork had hidden.

"Is that what I think it is?" The woman asked, staring around the room with wide eyes.

"A stork, yes, we can explain," Wanda said but came up blank with an explanation.

"No, the cribs!" Geraldine exclaimed, looking at the two cribs with a smile.

But she never got her answer. Not that she really needed one as Y/N and Wanda let out loud grunts of pain.

"Oh shoot! I think it's time!" Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her bump as she hyperventilated.

"The babies are coming." Wanda panted.

"You're pregnant? You're both pregnant?" Geraldine asked, staring at her friend's now exposed stomachs in shock.

"Oh God, where's Vis?"

Vision was still running around town. One thing he'd forgotten to do before having left home was to check for Dr. Neilson's address.

Dr. Neilson was still at home, dressed for his vacation but under the hood of his car.

"Ow!" Neilson grunted after he hit his head on the bonnet. "Bermuda awaits, and my car decides to poop out right at this moment." He sighed before slamming the bonnet down.

Before the doctor could further complain about the situation, the man jumped into the air as Vision appeared before him.

"Mr. Vision!" He gasped. "Is everything okay with the wives?"

"Yes. Yes, very much so. So long as we hurry." Vision said, grabbing Neilson's arm and hoisting him onto his back.

Without another word, Vision was running home, Neilson secured on his back, not noticing the fact that Dr. Neilson's wife had been sitting in the car.

"But Stan! What about my brand new two-piece?" His wife yelled. But she was talking to no-one.

Vision was already rushing her husband to his home, a home where he would soon be able to meet his children.

Back at said home, Geraldine was panicking. She had had no idea that her friends were pregnant, and now they were about to give birth.

"Okay, Wanda, I'm gonna get you to the living room. Y/N, I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, taking Wanda's arm and pulling it around her shoulders.

"No worries, I'll be fine. I'll just try not to pop the kid out in here." Y/N grunted, sinking down onto the floor as her wife was pulled out of the room.

"Let's get you comfortable," Geraldine said, grabbing pillow's on the couch and attempting to set it up as Wanda sunk onto the floor.

"I think I'm just going to lay down right here." Wanda panted, making herself comfortable on the floor. "Where's Y/N?" Wanda gasped.

"I'm getting her now. I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, propping pillows under Wanda's head before rushing back into the nursery. "Let's get you up, Y/N." She said, gently pulling Y/N to her feet as the woman groaned.

"With Wanda. I need to be next to Wanda." Y/N said through gritted teeth.

Geraldine didn't question Y/N's request as she laid Y/N next to her wife, assuming both women were feeling quite frightened at the moment.

And while that was true, there was something else drawing them together.

The babies in their wombs seemed to be drawn to one another. The babies were connected. And even now, as they were so close to entering the world, they wanted to be near each other.

They needed to be near each other.

"Where's Vision?" Geraldine demanded as she grabbed pillows for Y/N.

"He ran to get the doctor," Wanda explained as the vacuum began to run in the background.

"He'll be here soon," Y/N added with a grunt.

"There's not enough time for that!" Geraldine denied. "You know the breathing, right?" She asked as she began to run around the house. "Girls, I can't hear you!"

But neither woman could respond as the pain was becoming blinding. And it wasn't like Geraldine would be able to hear over the chaos happening around them.

Photo frames were spinning, the fire was roaring, a violent wind was making its way through the house, and both women were screaming.

Geraldine hadn't noticed any of the noise until she was rushing back into the living room and a light fixture crashed onto the table.

"I may be late to the party, but I imagine there is a logical explanation for this," Geraldine said, sitting before the women with a bucket and blankets.

"Oh, it's all perfectly natural!"

"Just like this! Everything's fine!"

"Hey, hey, hey. You are doing great." Geraldine assured. "You are doing great. The two of you are doing amazing. Look at me. Look at me." She demanded before demonstrating the breathing techniques.

"Wanda, I can't do this," Y/N grunted.

"What? No, because if you can't do this, I can't do this. And we're too close to turn back now." Wanda said, reaching over and blindly taking Y/N's hand.

"I'll say it's too late because it's time to start pushing," Geraldine said.

"What?" Both women gasped.

"Wanda, you're crowning," Geraldine informed her. "Are you ready? You're ready. Push. Push, Wanda, push." She cheered as Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand tightly and screamed.

The house was alive as Wanda pushed, and her screams seemed to drown out the chaos in the house as everything reached its craziest.

And when Wanda stopped screaming, and the house went quiet, a new set of cries permeated the walls.

"It's a boy," Geraldine informed the woman as she wrapped the baby up.

"Oh, hi." Wanda cooed as the baby was placed in her arms.

"Oh, Wanda, he's perfect." Y/n smiled, reaching over to grab his little hand.

Before either of you could say another word, the front door was slammed open, and Vision was now standing in the living room with Neilson behind him.

"Did I miss it all?" Vision asked, staring at his wives.

"Nope, you're just in time," Y/N grunted. "Please, someone tell me it's time." She begged.

"I think you're ready to push." Geraldine checked, causing Vision to rush to kneel between his wives and the doctor to move into action.

Y/N's labor was much less chaotic than Wanda's. The only side effect that happened was the wind that rushed through the house before their daughter was born.

"She's gorgeous." Wanda smiled as the baby was bundled up and placed in Y/N's arms.

"Hey, Doc, why don't you help me out in the kitchen there?" Geraldine suggested, wanting to give the three a moment of privacy.

"Everything's happened so fast today. It's like I've been flying." The doctor said as he followed the woman out of the room.

"Well done, girls." Vision said, brushing hair off both women's faces.

"Don't you want to meet your children as yourself?" Wanda suggested. Vision quickly looked around before dropping his disguise.

"You're so strong." Wanda cooed as she handed Vision the boy.

"Do you want to hold her?" Y/N offered their daughter to her wife.

"I'd love to hold, Luna," Wanda said, causing Y/N to smile.

"Hello there, little Tommy." Vision cooed at the little boy in his arms.

"Tommy?"

"Yes, Tommy." Vision smiled, causing both Wanda and Y/N to smile at him before Wanda let out another scream.

"What?" Y/N and Vision exclaimed, staring at Wanda in shock.

Vision handed Tommy to Y/N and rushed to lift Wanda's skirt.

"Oh! Good heavens! There's another baby coming!" Vision cried.

"Billy?" Wanda exclaimed as she handed Luna over to Y/N and began to grunt as the urge to push grew stronger.

"Push, sweetheart, push!"

"Thirty fingers and thirty toes." Nielson commended thirty minutes after the birth of the three children.

Because of Billy's surprise entrance, Neilson had had to triple check that both women were okay and that there would be no more surprises that day.

He had made sure there were no more children on their way any time soon, that Y/N and Wanda could both feed all three babies and that they were both recovering well.

Now Wanda, Vision, and Neilson were each holding one of the babies ea while Y/N lay on the couch, exhausted after the day.

"You've got two healthy baby boys and one healthy little girl on your hands." Neilson complimented.

"Thank you, doctor." Wanda smiled, rocking Tommy in her arms.

"And thank you, young lady," Neilson said, turning to Geraldine with a smile. "I think you might have what it takes to be a nurse."

"Allow me to walk you out, doctor." Vision murmured, putting Luna into her bassinet and taking Billy from the doctor's arms and putting in the bassinet beside her.

"Oh, all right. As long as we actually walk this time." He said, causing a sleepy smile to appear on Y/N's face.

"We do owe you a debt of gratitude," Wanda said as she neared the bassinets.

"Big-time," Y/N murmured.

Well, doctor Neilson, I hope you're still able to make your trip." Vision said, leading the doctor out of his home.

"Ah yes, my trip. I don't we'll get away after all." Neilson admitted with a sigh. "Small towns, you know. So hard to... escape." He said, more to himself, before leaving Vision standing alone.

"Yeah." Vision shook his head before turning back to his home. He was about to reenter the house when he overheard Herb and Agnes hissing to each other.

"What is she doing in there?"

"I don't know."

"Howdy neighbors!" Vision called, causing both people to turn and wave quickly.

"Hey!"

"Howdy!" Agnes called before turning back to Herb. "Did you see her go in?"

"She just went right in."

Vision's curiosity was peaked. Which she were his neighbors talking about?

"Remarkable day we're having, no?" Vision asked, walking over to the two. "Did you lose power too?" He questioned Agnes.

"Oh, sure did." Agnes nodded with a sigh before plastering on a grin. "But, Ralph looks better in the dark, so I'm not complaining."

"Hi, Herb." Vision said, looking at the man strangely.

"Hey, buddy." Herb nodded quickly, lowering his hand just as fast. Both Agnes and Herb were looking at him nervously, and it was unsettling Vision.

"Well, I'll just get back to the girls." He excused himself, turning away.

"Vision!" Agnes called, forcing him to turn back. "Is Geraldine inside your house?" She asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes. Why?"

"Why are you not tired?" Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into the couch cushions.

"I must just be special," Wanda said, hinting at her powers.

"Not fair."

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," Wanda said, brushing hair off Y/N's face.

"No, I want to stay up."

"You're exhausted, Y/N. Go to sleep. I'll wake you if the babies cry." Wanda promised.

"Okay. I'll just rest my eyes." Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. Wanda gently pressed her fingertips to Y/N's temple and helped her to sleep. Ensuring that she only had good dreams as she slept.

"I gotta say, you two are such strong ladies." Geraldine complimented as Wanda moved back to the bassinets.

"Oh." Wanda tutted, waving the compliment off.

"Can you believe it? Twin boys and a little girl! You know they're going to be the most overprotective brothers when they're older." Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze.

Distant memories, memories Wanda had forced to the back of her mind, were resurfacing. Memories of her own twin.

Her own overprotective twin.

"I'm a twin," Wanda mentioned, eyes glazed over. "I had a brother. His name was Pietro." Wanda said, her accent slipping on his name. Wanda turned to stare back at her children with a smile before she began to sing a familiar lullaby. A lullaby her mother had sung to her and Pietro.

"He was killed by Ultron," Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze. "Wasn't he?"

"What did you say?" Wanda demanded as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"She's new to town. Brand new." Herb told Vision.

"There's no family. No husband." Agnes added.

"There's nothing wrong with that." Vision said with a shrug.

"No home," Agnes told him.

"What?"

"What did you just say?" Wanda asked, staring at Geraldine blankly.

"I said, you're such strong ladies," Geraldine repeated. "Should I say it one more time for good measure?" She asked, moving towards the couch. Where Y/N was still sleeping, unbeknownst to what was happening.

"Don't go near her." Wanda snapped, stopping Geraldine in her tracks. "What did you say about Pietro?"

"Pietro?" Geraldine questioned, tilting her head in confusion. "Hey, I'll take a shift rocking the babies." She offered, beginning to move closer to the bassinets when the babies started to cry.

"No, I think you should leave." Wanda shook her head, blocking the bassinets from her view.

"Oh, Wanda, don't be like that," Geraldine said, staring at Wanda as if she were the crazy one.

"What do you mean she has no home?" Vision demanded, moving towards his neighbors.

"She came here because." Herb tried to say but couldn't finish his own sentence. "She came here because we're all,"

"She came here because we're all what? What're you trying to tell me?" Vision asked, staring at the two in confusion.

"What is that?" Wanda asked, staring at the pendant around Geraldine's neck.

"What?"

"That," Wanda said as Geraldine held the pendant between her fingers. "That symbol."

"I uh, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, looking towards Y/N, hoping the woman would help her.

"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, moving to block her wife from Geraldine's gaze.

"I don't,"

"She came here because we're all," Herb began to say but stopped when Agnes spun to face him.

"Stop it!" She hissed, staring at him with scared eyes.

"Who are you?" Wanda repeated, staring at the woman in anger.

"Wanda." Geraldine shook her head as she began to take a step back. "I'm. Wanda, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, unable to tell her.

"Well, I better get going. That macrame's not gonna hitch itself!" Agnes said with a smile as she grabbed her bike. She gave Vision a wink as she rang the bell before rushing away.

"Herb?" Vision asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vision wasn't going to back down. He needed answers, but Herb wasn't willing to give them.

"Catch you on the flip side, Vision," Herb said, grabbing his trimmers and rushing back into his home.

Without a second thought, Vision rushed back into his house, his disguise dropping when the door shut behind him.

"Wanda? Where's Geraldine?" Vision asked, rounding the couch to stand beside a sleeping Y/N.

"Oh, she left, honey," Wanda told him, not turning around to face him. "She had to rush home." She added, continuing to rock the babies with a blank face.

Miles away from the Vision home, on the outskirts of Westview, there was a loud crackling that ripped through the air.

The crackling continued until Geraldine was thrown through the electric barrier, and she landed on the ground with a crash.

Within seconds Geraldine's prone body was surrounded by loud noises, and a light covered her form.

She was surrounded.

Taglist is open throughout the entirety of the series.

@x-uglyprincess-x @imthedoctorlove @loveinnoya @unknownalien3388 @bindythedemon @summersimmerus @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @natasharomanoffismywife @mcsteamy4ever @monxpeet @amywinehouseisgod @milleniumloki @buckybarnesplumwhore @kennedywxlsh @drpepperobsessed @madamevirgo @superbsccissorsdeanexpert @itty-bitty-witch @essenceproxima @severusminerva @okkulta @mrscasnovak @niki-is-a-thing @sunshinepower17 @pinkninja200 @el-writes-and-reblogs-stuff @iflostreturntoflynnrider

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wandavision #wandavision x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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harrysweasleys · 5 years ago

Text

Legacy

Summary: Slytherin Reader is married to Fred and the two have a daughter. When she goes off to Hogwarts and gets sorted into Slytherin, it’s a tough pill for Fred to swallow.

Warnings: angst, language

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: So I really enjoyed writing this one. It starts off a little slow but it picks up, I promise!! I’m just soft for dad Fred. he deserved better.

The pairing of Fred Weasley and Y/N Y/L/N was unlikely to say the least. The two, who had been in the same year, didn’t find themselves in each others’ company during their time at Hogwarts. But, Y/N, who was loyal to the school, had saved him from a terrible fate during the Battle of Hogwarts, and the two found their way together after that.

She had known of the Gryffindor prankster, he was not exactly subtle in their years together at Hogwarts. On multiple occasions, the tall ginger twin had set of Dungbombs and Fireworks in their classrooms. Y/N never admitted it, but she always found the twins’ pranks quite amusing. She would silently laugh behind her hand as McGonagall or Flitwick, or sometimes even Snape would glare at them and remove points from Gryffindor. But, that never dampened the spirits of the brothers, who always found a way to keep people on their toes.

Y/N, on the other hand, tried not to bring too much attention to herself in her time at the school. She was placed in Slytherin, much to her parents’ utter thrill, and kept her circle of friends small. She only really had two friends — a dark-haired boy named Stellan and a blonde girl named Alice. The two had been her go-to companions practically the whole time she was there. They had been some of the only non-pureblood-fanatics she had met. Sure, she prided herself in being a pureblood with well-respected parents, but found no understanding in why some people in her house — particularly Draco Malfoy — found pleasure in bringing down those who weren’t.

After graduating, Y/N took time off and debated coming back to Hogwarts as a professor — the late Professor Snape always told her she had a talent for Potions — but with the looming threat of the Dark Lord’s return, she decided to stay on the down-low and get a job in Diagon Alley at Quality Quidditch Supplies.

She spent five years being a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, she really did love the sport. She also found herself wandering into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes during her breaks, admiring the new products on the shelf and having a laugh at those who tried some of their infamous sweets. How the twins managed to keep people smiling in such a dark time, she had no idea.

When the Battle of Hogwarts came to be, Y/N found herself on the frontline, ready to defend the school that her heart belonged to. Which is how she found Fred, cornered in by a Death Eater, who looked ready to kill. She had sent him a curse — ‘levicorpus!’ — and Fred knew right there in that moment that she was the one.

The two found each other one day in Diagon Alley, and they were both done for. Falling in love didn’t come hard for these two. Five years later, they were married, and two years after that, their first child — a daughter — was born.

Ariella Weasley took after her father. She had long, curly ginger hair and freckles scattered across her pale cheeks. The older she got, the more she resembled him. She also did take after her mother, though, because she had Fred wrapped around her little finger. She also had her mother’s pale Y/E/C eyes and her honest smile.

“I’d die for the two of you, y’know?” Fred mumbled to Y/N one night as the two put their baby girl to sleep. Y/N knew, she’d die for the both of them too. They were her entire world.

As Ariella grew older, she started to have fun pranking her cousins with her dad. The two were like partners in crime, and Y/N felt like the luckiest woman alive to be surrounded by two of the liveliest people in the universe.

When Ariella was 11, her Hogwarts letter came in the mail.

“Now, Ari, you’ve got a reputation to live up to. A legacy if you will,” Fred told her, sitting her on the couch, “Uncle Georgie and I really left our mark on Hogwarts, yeah? So keep in mind that you’ve got to live up to it.”

Arielle looked to her mum, eyes wide.

“He’s kidding, love,” Y/N rubbed her back soothingly, “Your dad had a reputation of getting into trouble. If you chose not to go down that same path, you won’t hear me complaining.”

Fred rolled his eyes at his wife, “You know that I made sure things were never boring. Life is supposed to be fun!”

“Fun, yes,” Y/N chuckled, “But education is also important, especially for a young witch. Your dad caused many distractions.” Ariella looked between her two parents and shot them both a toothy grin.

“Trouble and learning go well together!”

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face as well.

Fred grinned at the two of them, “That’s my girl! When you get sorted into Gryffindor, tell McGonagall I say hi.”

“If she gets sorted into Gryffindor,” Y/N reminded him, “Any house is fine, darling. They’ve all got their strengths.”

Fred was proud of his time in the scarlet and gold house, and he made sure people knew. Everyone in the Weasley family had been placed there and they had each been treated with respect every time they stepped foot back in the school. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George had been on the Quidditch team, Bill and Percy had been Head Boy — there was no shortage of love for the Gryffindor house in the Weasley family.

“But what if she gets placed in Slytherin?” Fred grimaced, “Goodness.”

Y/N thought he was joking, so she shrugged him off and faced her daughter, “I was a Slytherin, and I think I turned out fine.”

“You did, not everyone did. I mean, most Death Eaters came out of there,” Fred pressed on, arms crossed. Ariella looked between her parents, trying to figure out what she’d do if she wasn’t in Gryffindor.

“There are no more Death Eaters, Freddie,” Y/N was a little more stern, “Besides, I knew loads of people in Slytherin who didn’t end up working for the Dark Lord. You just gotta pick your battles.”

Fred dropped the subject and continued telling his daughter about all the things she has to look forward to in her upcoming years.

---

The day Y/N and Fred dropped her off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters was sad day indeed. Y/N shed a few tears, and Fred felt his heart crack slightly as he watched the red steam engine barrel out of sight.

The two made their way back, stopping by to have tea in London before taking their sweet time coming home, and when they got through the front doors a little after sunset, Fred threw his body down on the couch and dragged Y/N down with him. He wrapped her up in his arms and nuzzled his head into her neck.

“What are we gonna do with all this alone time, huh?” he smirked against her neck, placing a light kiss before abruptly pulling away, “Pillow fight!”

He caught her completely off guard and smacked a couch pillow across her face. She held back a gasp, grabbing the one behind her and smacking him right back.

The two battled it out until they were red in the face and panting, both slightly sore from toppling over furniture to avoid getting hit in the face.

“What should we do for dinner, love?” Fred wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her cheek, “First dinner without Ariella in a long time.”

“I know,” Y/N replied, the hollow feeling in her chest growing as she missed her daughter, “It’s weird. But I know she’s off to go have the best seven years of her life.”

“Yeah,” Fred responded, “Maybe she can even bring home the House Cup!”

“Maybe she can,” Y/N twirled around, placing a light kiss to her husband’s lips and trailing off into the kitchen.

---

The next morning, Y/N and Fred Weasley were awoken by a large owl knocking at their window, a letter attached to its scrawny leg.

“Oh, it’s from Hogwarts,” Y/N grinned as she opened the window, plucking the letter off of the owl, tipping it with a quick snack, and letting it fly back to where it came from.

She opened the letter and read it aloud;

‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

We are thrilled to inform you that as of last night at 7:03pm, your daughter Ariella Weasley has been sorted into Slytherin House. Headmistress McGonagall would like to send her well-wishes and hopes this letter finds you well.

Forms will be going out next month to students who wish to come home for the Christmas and New Year holidays.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’

Y/N placed the letter down with a smile, her heart thumping loudly, “Hey, she takes after her mother after all! She’s in Slytherin!”

“What?” Fred muttered, his face paler than usual. His hands gripped the bedsheets, “She’s in Slytherin?”

Y/N clutched the letter in her hand and made her way over to the bed, sitting next to him with a smile on her face, oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm.

“That’s great, I’m happy for her. I wonder if I should tell her about the secret passageway next to the fireplace—”

“She’s in Slytherin? Why?” Fred placed his head in his hands as if searching his brain for the answer. Y/N dropped the letter and held onto his wrists, forcing him to look up at her.

“What’s the issue? Why are you so upset she’s in Slytherin?” she tried to hide the hurt in her voice at how lowly he thought of her house. Yes, Slytherin had a reputation, but that was in the past. Y/N had a lot of emerald pride.

“Because — Slytherin, Y/N,” he shook his head, “I mean, come on. Voldemort was Slytherin, Malfoy, Snape, Crabbe and Goyle—”

“So was I,” she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, “First off, Voldemort was fifty years before us. Snape’s dead, may he rest in peace, so are Crabbe and Goyle. They made mistakes and paid for them. Not everyone in the house ended up being awful. Every house in Hogwarts has had their share of... troubled wizards. Slytherin happens to have had more, sure, but that’s not the house’s fault. It’s the wizard’s fault.”

Fred didn’t seem calmed by her words, not bothering to hide his distaste for Salazar Slytherin’s house.

“But they’re wicked. They’d cheat at Quidditch, they’d taunt first years, they’d always think they were better than everyone else.”

Y/N didn’t stop glaring at him, “Fred, you can’t be serious. I was a Slytherin and I saved your ass. Alice was Slytherin and she’s now an Auror, Stellan owns a store in Diagon Alley — which may I remind you, you do too.”

“That’s different,” he muttered, turning to face away from her and getting out of bed, “You were good. You’ve always been good. You should have been in Ravenclaw or something.”

“What?” she got up as well, forgetting about the letter on the bed, “What is your problem? Just suck it up and accept the fact that two of the women in your life are Slytherins.”

Without another word, she stormed out of the room and down the stairs, anger fuming from her ears. She knew Fred still held distaste for her house, but she thought that after all these years, he’d be way over it.

She stormed into the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea and grabbing the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered at their doorstep that morning, sitting down at the table and sipping her tea. She looked over the announcements from the Ministry, seeing a few familiar names, and didn’t bother looking up from the newspaper when she noticed Fred begrudgingly walking down the stairs, his feet dragging across the floor as he sat across from her at the dining table.

“Love, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to look at her over the newspaper, “I shouldn’t have said what I did, I was just shocked, I guess.”

“Shocked? Is that what you call shock? Sounds like a grudge, if you ask me,” she replied cooly, still not looking at him.

He sighed, “I overreacted, I know. I don’t know why, I just can’t help but think of them the same way that I did when I was in school.”

“Freddie, you can’t do that,” she finally lowered the paper and placed it aside, “Firstly, it hurts me. Secondly, it’ll hurt Ari as well if you start dissing Slytherin. She was really nervous, she doesn’t want to disappoint you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reached across the table and held her hands gently, “And I don’t want Ari to think I’m disappointed in her. I just — I’ll get over it, I promise.”

---

Over the next few months, Ariella wrote to the two of them, expressing how excited she was to be making friends. She also ranted on for two pages about her love for Transfigurations and Herbology. Her Professor, Neville Longbottom, had been a friend of Fred’s when he was at school.

Fred had grown more used to the fact that his daughter was a Slytherin, and the conversations involving her house were usually pretty short between him and Y/N.

As the Christmas holidays rolled around, Fred and Y/N had decorated the house in preparation to finally have their daughter home. Although they never really lost contact, it had been a long few months for her parents.

“The train’s arriving at two o’clock, Fred! You need to get going!” Y/N whisked him out the door, placing a quick kiss on his lips before returning to the kitchen and continuing the cookies she had been making. It was rare she did them the muggle way, but she had time to spare and thought baking would be fun.

Within the hour, Fred and Ariella arrived through the door, both grinning and red-nosed. Y/N rushed over to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms and squeezing her.

“Mum, ouch,” Ariella giggled, “At least let me take my shoes off.”

Y/N placed her daughter down and started removing her apron, rushing into the kitchen to place the fresh batch of cookies in front of them both. Fred grinned, shoving three of them in his mouth and smiling at Y/N, crumbs falling all over the table.

Ariella grabbed her trunk that Fred brought in and excused herself, rushing upstairs to her room to put it away.

“These are good, they taste like Christmas,” Fred spoke through another mouthful of cookie.

“Fred, don’t eat them all,” Y/N chuckled, moving the plate out of his reach with a smirk, “I haven’t got all holiday to keep making more.”

He sagged his shoulders and sighed dramatically, “Fiiiine.” He walked around the table, pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Ariella came tumbling down the stairs in a mess of green.

“You good?” Y/N asked her daughter, holding back a laugh as Ariella stood up, brushing herself off as if no one noticed her fall.

“Yep, totally,” she walked it off, placing a mess of fabric down on the table, “Anyways, I wanted to show you guys my stuff! Here’s my Slytherin scarf, I usually only wear it to Quidditch games — oh, we beat Hufflepuff real good — and here’s my tie. Getting used to it was weird but I quite like it now. And here’s my sweater that a girl in my house gave to me as a Christmas gift.”

She lifted up the bulky green sweater, showing off the giant Slytherin house crest on the front, “It’ll be my new go-to during matches in the springtime. Slughorn — he’s head of my house — says I’ve got unmatched Slytherin pride! He also says hi, mum.”

Y/N smiled, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “This is all lovely, darling. I’m glad you’re so proud of your house. And tell Professor Slughorn I say hi back.”

Ariella grinned, picking up the scarf and wrapping it around her neck, tossing her ginger hair over her shoulder and posing, “Doesn’t green just suit me?”

“Of course —”

“We get it, you like Slytherin,” Fred snapped from next to the fridge. He was leaning against it, arms crossed as he watched his daughter flaunt her Slytherin clothing items, a proud grin on her face.

“Fred...” Y/N dropped her head, taking her hand off of her daughter’s shoulder, “Come on, we’ve been over this.”

“Over what?” Ariella piped up, slowly removing her scarf as if she was offending him, “Dad... were you... ashamed that I was placed in Slytherin?”

Fred sighed, avoiding eye contact with her and looking out the window at the slow snowfall. Ariella seemed to take this as a yes, and she dropped the scarf on the table with a defeated sigh.

“Ari, honey, it’s not —”

“It’s fine, I get it,” she scoffed, taking off upstairs with loud footsteps. Y/N flinched as the door slammed shut loudly, rattling the walls of the house. She picked up the scarf on the table, remembering how proud she was when she brought all of her stuff home to show her parents for the first time as well.

“Fred, you need to let this go,” Y/N said softly, not taking her eyes off of the scarf, “You can’t keep denying that she’s not in Gryffindor. I get it, every Weasley has been in that house, but she’s not just a Weasley. She’s a part of me too, and she’s taken after you in every other aspect — her hair, her attitude, her freckles, her laugh — why can’t you accept the fact that for once, she’s taken after me for something?”

Fred seemed to ponder her words. He had never thought about it that way. People always told him about how much she resembled him in every aspect, but it wasn’t often that people said that to Y/N. And now, she watched with pride as her daughter was placed in her old house. It was almost like she could finally see herself in her.

“You’re right,” Fred mumbled, “You’re completely right. Merlin’s beard, I’ve been an idiot.” He wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her into him, hugging her as if his action was louder than his words.

“You have to go tell her that, she’s the one who thinks you’re ashamed.”

Fred pulled away and sighed, running his hand down his face and nodding, “You’re... you’re right. I need to go talk to her. She needs to know that I am proud of her. I always will be. And... that her mum was the most badass Slytherin ever. She’ll take after you there.”

Y/N giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Go tell her that, Freddie.”

“Can you come with me?” his voice was barely above a whisper and Y/N nearly swooned at how desperate he was. Ariella was, no doubt, a daddy’s girl, so having her dad come around and reassure her would mean the world her.

“Of course, love,” Y/N placed a kiss on his cheek and the two of them walked upstairs. She knocked slowly on her door and once a quite ‘come in’ was heard, she opened it and looked down at her daughter. Ariella was sitting on her bed, reading ‘Hogwarts: A History.’

When she saw her parents walk in, both looking apologetic, she placed the book down and sat crosslegged, turning to face them.

“Your dad has something he wants to say,” Y/N nudged Fred forwards. He gave her a grateful nod and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was ashamed,” he started, “I was shocked when we got the letter saying you were in Slytherin, I won’t deny it. When I was at school, the Slytherin students were always cunning, mean, rushing around the halls looking for any reason to torment the people they saw. They cheated, they lied, and eventually, a lot of them ended up working for the Dark Lord. I guess that now, twenty years after my time, I’m still thinking about that side of Slytherin. But then, after I left school, I met your mum. And she changed my opinion completely.”

Y/N sat there in awe, listening to what he had to say.

“She was caring, smart, loyal, funny — everything I wouldn’t expect from a Slytherin. I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though you take after me in every aspect of your physical appearance, I’m glad that your heart is like your mother’s. I’m proud of you.”

Ariella was close to tears, and so was Y/N. She watcher her daughter flail her arms around her dad’s neck and hug him like her life depended on it. Y/N sat by the door, her hand over her heart, and a loving smile on her lips.

She watched the smile spread across Fred’s face as he hugged his daughter back, relieved she wasn’t mad at him.

Later that evening, after Ariella had gone to sleep, Y/N and Fred sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets and watching the fire crackle in the fireplace. Her head was leaning against his shoulder, and his head leaning against hers. His hand was on her thigh, rubbing slow circles.

“I love you,” he muttered quietly, “I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve really been an idiot.”

“You have, but it’s fine,” she giggled, leaning up to face him, “I still love you.”

And she really did, with all her heart.

Who knew these two were so perfect for each other?

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shots

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madamewriterofwrongs · 4 years ago

Note

ooh for the july prompt list can you do 28 + buddie

For you, darling, anything!

July Prompt List

28. “Just by existing and by letting me speak to you, you give me an immense amount.”

Without Question

“No, no, I’m serious, Eddie.” Buck let his beer slosh over the coffee table as he emphatically pointed at his best friend. He could clean up later; there were more important things happening at the moment. “You, need to get laid.”

On the carpet across from him, Eddie threw his head back in a groan of frustration. “Not this again, Buck, I told you.” He had, in fact, told Buck three times since arriving and subsequently leaving the bar with their friends, but it bared repeating. “I am not interested in hook-ups. I need a relationship – with someone Christopher would approve of.” At least, Eddie hoped that’s what he said (words were a bit fuzzy in his head at the moment). “I don’t need to get laid; I need to get married.”

That seemed to sober Buck just a little, his mouth drooping downwards. “You’re ready to get married again?”

Eddie found himself doing his best impression of that singing bass (weren’t brains funny at 3am?), thinking of the right answer. “No. Yes? Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it but yeah” he eventually decided. “If I’m going to put myself out there again, it’s going to be with someone I can see a future with.”

“How are you supposed to know that on a first date?” Very good question, Buck. Eddie’s face scrunched in on itself as he sought the answer.

“I don’t know that I know what it would look like to meet that person.” Buck’s eyes were really blue when his face was red from too much alcohol. They were like an ocean in a storm. What?

“Okay.” Buck slammed his bottle onto the coffee table with so much force, it shattered their eardrums but he was already crawling to his feet.

He was halfway into the kitchen when Eddie finally realized that Buck was gone and called out “where did you go?”

Suddenly Buck was back where he started (had he even left?) throwing himself to the ground, now with a pen and a piece of what looked like old mail. “That looks important.”

“This is important-er” Buck insisted, leaning his weight against the edge of the table, giving his full attention to the paper stuffed under his forearm. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

Buck rolled his eyes and nearly hit his head on the table in the process. Should they really be doing this now? Well, if not now, then when?

“We’re going to figure out the perfect person for you” he declared with the confidence of a man who would have a splitting headache and a few bruises in the morning.

“You have a rolodex of every person on the planet that we can go through?” Eddie scoffed, taking another ill-advised drink.

Buck stared at Eddie too long for either of them to properly see straight, eyes forced wide before he inevitably fell asleep. “A rolodex? What are you, fifty?” Before he could process Buck’s words, they were moving on. “No, we’re going to write down exactly what you’re looking for in a partner, so that when you do meet someone, you’ll know they’re the one.”

Seemed reasonable enough. Buck was so smart sometimes, but sometimes he was an idiot (like that time he tried to pet a dog after they found it covered in – what they thought at the time was – blood. It turned out to be ketchup from where his owner had collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of making lunch). Buck was probably the dumbest smart person he knew. But in a really smart way.

“Okay.” Eddie leaned forward to match his friend’s position across the coffee table. “What’s first?”

Buck squinted at the paper, waiting for it to reveal its secrets. Just as quickly, he perked up and began to scribble.

“Number one: good looking.”

Eddie scoffed, wiping his spit from the table with his sleeve. “Why is that the first thing on the list?”

“Because” Buck drew out emphatically. “The whole goal is to get you laid. If you don’t find them attractive, then this whole experiment is for not.”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes so hard he felt dizzy. “Now who’s fifty?”

In lieu of a response, Buck went back to his scribbling. “Number two: they have to love Christopher.”

“That is an absolute must.” Anyone he was with had to love Christopher the way Buck did – with his whole heart. He really was a great person.

“Three: someone who understands your schedule. Being a firefighter is not a 9-5 thing; they have to be prepared for late nights and crazy danger.” Buck’s face twisted as he wrote, into something Eddie recognized as hurt. It took him a little longer to realize why that sadness was marring that pretty face. He slowly reached out a hand to touch his wrist. Buck shouldn’t feel like he was alone, or that Ali leaving was his fault. He deserved to know that there was someone who wanted to be with him – despite the schedules and the dangers. His eyes really were so perfectly blue; even when they were starring at him hopefully. Especially then.

Eddie opened his mouth but nothing came out so he closed it again, hoping the lack of oxygen would help him remember. He didn’t remove his hand right away.

Buck spent the next forty minutes emphatically telling Eddie exactly what his ideal person would be, with Eddie adding commentary here and there to make sure Buck got the wording right (maybe, things were still a bit hazy).

At the end of everything, there were ten items on the list. Ten items for the perfect partner for Eddie. Now all he had to do was find that person. He stared at Buck, proudly handing Eddie the paper for him to tuck into his back pocket, and something of a smile rose to his lips. Finding that person would be the easy part, thought Drunk Eddie. All he had to do was remember the list and even his sober counter-part (as obtuse as he was – excellent word choice, Drunk Eddie) would able to figure it out.

Just to be sure, Eddie waited until Buck stumbled towards the bathroom for the third time, before he retrieved the list from his back pocket and added an eleventh item.

There. Easy as pie.

Thoughts of delicious, sugar-filled pastries, had Eddie stumbling up the stairs to the master bathroom. Why did he think getting drunk at Hen’s birthday party was a good idea? He was not in his twenties anymore. This shit had consequences.

Of course, he expected those consequences to be a massive hangover and some second-hand embarrassment (which he did have). What he wasn’t expecting, was to wake up with his arm around the waist of a half-naked Buck.

Well that was new.

The soft smile on his face as he watched Buck’s even breathing, so calm and safe, was also…not that new. Certainly not one he’d ever experienced while sleeping shirtless in his best friend’s bed, obviously; but being happy that Buck was peaceful and all right was something Eddie experienced on a daily basis.

He carefully pulled his arm away from that – surprisingly soft – abdomen, and rolled onto his back as naturally as he could without waking the other man. If Buck woke up to them cuddling like that, there might need to be a discussion about why he felt so comfortable like that; and morning afters were not the time for existential wanderings.

Not that this was a ‘morning after’. It was the morning after a night of heavy drinking and clearly neither of them were fit to drive, let alone sleep on the couch without hurting themselves. Buck’s bed was big enough for two grown men to rest comfortably (not that they seemed to be using half of the space) so it made sense that they would share.

Yup, perfectly reasonable. Anything else – like his heart beating out of his chest with longing – was just an aftershock of the abhorrent amount of alcohol they’d consumed.

Who thought any of that was a good idea?

Oh right. Christopher was away at camp and Buck had dragged him to Hen’s birthday party; where she’d loudly declared that for one damn night, she wanted to celebrate everything she’d accomplished with her closest friends, consequences be damned. Which, of course, meant that several rounds of tequila shots were ordered in honor of the birthday girl. He vaguely recalled Karen getting exasperatedly drunk beside her wife, which encouraged Eddie to drink his loneliness away. Which seemed to have led back to Buck’s apartment.

There were definitely some dots missing there.

Namely, why he’d let himself sleep in his jeans but not his shirt (in Buck’s bed!).

Before he could even attempt to make connections, the body beside him began to stir, and the peaceful rest on Buck’s face soured into disgruntled pain.

“What died in my mouth?” He chewed on the words as they left his lips, leaving Eddie to dodge a few flailing limbs as Buck returned to the living. A few more scrapes of his tongue against his teeth seemingly had Buck satisfied that he wouldn’t get the taste out of his mouth without help, so he rolled over to check the time on his phone, only to find a body in the way.

“Eddie?” he groaned against the morning light through his window. “What are you doing here?”

The firefighter tried to shake his head but found it only made his stomach protest harder than it had been already. “We are too old to be drinking this much” he hoarsely declared.

Buck’s reply was swallowed by his retreating form as he stumbled towards the bathroom to empty the contents of his bad decision. Eddie let his head fall back against the pillow, the only sounds in the apartment becoming Buck’s retching, and Eddie’s painful decision to forget everything about last night.

Stumbling through the door of his bedroom a few hours later (Buck had insisted on taking him out for a greasy breakfast before dropping him off at home), Eddie had just enough mental energy to toss his clothes vaguely near the hamper before jumping in the shower and then straight to bed. He had never been so grateful for a day off in his life.

Much like the night before, Eddie remembered very little of the day he slept away; those 24 hours became a blip in the string of time that carried no real significance in his life and was happily forgotten.

When doing laundry a few days later, he did find a piece of Buck’s mail folded into the back pocket of his jeans. So, he tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of things on his dining room table colloquially called ‘things that need to be returned to Buck’s eventually’, and thought nothing of it.

It would be another month before Eddie thought about the letter or the night that time forgot.

Hosting random get-togethers for the firefighters and paramedics of the 118 (along with their families, of course) was practically a bi-weekly tradition at this point. Whoever was available would offer their space, and everyone was welcomed in, bringing food and drinks and games. It was one of Eddie’s favourite things about being a part of the 118: the inherent companionship. He had never been a part of anything where it was just assumed that he would have a babysitter, or someone to barbeque for two dozen people in his backyard, or drive him to the hospital when his grandmother broke her hip. No matter what was going on, they could always rely on each other.

He loved the family he’d built at the 118.

So what if he was a little lonely sometimes; he was never alone and that was just as good. Still, maybe it was time for him to put himself out there again. The idea of dating – of random hookups and dead-end dinners – felt exhausting (and not at all what he needed). What else could he do, though?

Luckily, it was his turn to host, so no matter how he was feeling, it would soon be replaced with joy and contentment and laughter. But first, he needed to clean up.

As was tradition, Eddie grabbed the pile of things on his table lovingly titled ‘things that should get back to Buck’s but likely never will’ and shoved them onto his bed until their guests had left for the evening. One of these days, he would remember to tell Buck about all the things of his that had accumulated at the Diaz house over the years (a spare charger, a hat, a few bits of mail he would bring over when he was helping Eddie with tax season – or Eddie was helping him, they weren’t really sure). Small things that might not be missed, but also a spare tooth brush, a pair of sweatpants, and a book he’d only ever seen Buck read at his dining room table while Christopher did his homework.

Maybe he should just get Buck a drawer for his things and then he wouldn’t have to lug it around every time he had company over.

The doorbell rang, sending Eddie sprinting to throw everything onto his bed so he could answer the door in a timely manner.

He loved having a full house. It made everything feel lived in. Sure, he strived to ensure that Christopher’s room (and any room his son spent a lot of time in) was warm and inviting. But there was something about 20 people crammed into the small sections of his house, filling the air with love, that made his house feel like home.

It also meant that there was a mess everywhere. He really didn’t mind it – part of having a big family was accepting that there would be a mess sometimes. With so many little ones running around, however (especially one who wasn’t so steady on his feet), it was best to keep the floors and corners tidy as much as possible.

That was when Eddie noticed a folded-up piece of paper on the floor of the hallway leading to his bedroom. It must have been a some of Buck’s mail that fell when he ran to get the door. An easy enough fix. Curiously, he unfolded the paper for the first time, just to see if it was something important.

Just a flier for some new gym Buck was on the mailing list for. Nothing special.

He turned it over to see the writing on the back, expecting contact info for a trainer or something equally relevant.

1. Someone good looking (you have to want to bone them or it’s all for not don’t make fun of me for using that phrase it’s rude)

He recognized Buck’s messy handwriting straight away. What he couldn’t remember was why he’d written some sort of list on the back.

2. Someone who loves Christopher (obviously that kid is your whole world so he has to be theirs too)

Okay, so this had something to do with Christopher, it probably had something to do with Eddie, too.

3. Someone who understands your schedule/lifestyle (your job is important to you and you need someone who gets that)

Eddie stared at the page, memories of too much tequila and not enough inhibitions flooded back to him.

4. Someone who will make you a priority (you need to make you a priority too you know)

Buck had written him a list of things he should be looking for in a partner, that much he remembered now. The commentary scrawled beside the list, however, was new.

5. Someone kind (you’re so kind you need someone whose just as kind and appreciates your kindness because you’re so kind)

Eddie found himself dragging his feet towards the sounds of people, eyes still glued to the page.

6. Someone smart (not like a doctor or anything but you have to be able to hold a conversation obviously)

He’d laid it out so simply that night; told Eddie exactly the type of person who would make him happy. How could Buck know that?

7. Someone loyal (you deserve someone as loyal as you Eddie you stick by people even when they’re awful jerks who almost screwed up the best thing they ever had)

Eddie couldn’t breathe, head buzzing with the sincerity in Buck’s words, even sloppily written on the back of a flier.

8. Someone who makes you laugh (I wish you could laugh more I like your laugh)

Someone called out to him – maybe the real Buck – but he was trapped in the memories of this world of possibilities.

9. Someone who can read you (not read to you idiot you need someone who knows what your face means because you don’t always say things out loud but you do say a lot)

The new voice was in front of him now, reaching out to him, trying to pull him to the present, but he refused to leave.

10. Someone who makes you feel safe (you make me feel safe)

And there it was; the list of qualities for Eddie’s perfect partner. The person who he could marry – because he remembered telling Buck that he wanted someone he could marry (that’s where the list had originated). It seemed an impossible task to find someone who fit all ten items on the list.

And yet.

Underneath it all, Eddie recognized his own handwriting, as messy as it was. The note he’d written himself so Sober Eddie would remember who it was that fit every criterion.

11. Someone who’ll stay

When he finally found the strength to raise his eyes to meet the real Buck’s, he was breathless all over again. The concern, the absolute care on his face, tipped Eddie over the edge.

“It’s you.”

Buck ducked his head but didn’t physically retreat; he was still so close, all-encompassing – the same way he’d ingratiated himself into the Diaz family long ago.

“What’s me?”

Wordless, Eddie presented the list for Buck to read. He watched the journey of emotions play through like a slideshow from confusion, to embarrassment, to realization, to confusion once again, mixed with painfully unending hope.

“I didn’t mean me when I wrote this.”

How had he not seen it before? How could Eddie have been so blind?

“But I do.” His eyes really were like the ocean, weren’t they. Even sober, he could stare into them forever.

“Marry me?”

Buck’s chest expanded with the weight of Eddie’s question, eyes wide in a disbelief that made him feel giddy; knowing Buck was just as stunned by these turn of events as he was. The fact that neither of them had run away screaming in horror, had to be a good sign.

“What the hell is going on?”

In hindsight, Eddie should have known better than to have his earth-shattering realization in front of their friends and family. Everyone was too nosey for their own good. Just because he’d suddenly proposed to Buck despite the fact that they were not dating.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating.

Athena called out to the boys again when neither answered. “Does someone want to clue me in?”

Buck turned back to Eddie, a calm smile on his face – the same peace that he’d had when they were lying in bed together (visions of memorizing his sleeping face filled his hope to the brim).

“Eddie and I are getting married.” Buck spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, but his announcement was just for Eddie. The only word he had left to describe his beating heart was ‘disbelief’.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating. And he’d said yes.

He should be more panicked. He should run away screaming. Ask to take it all back. What the hell was he thinking? Asking his best friend to marry him because of a list that seemed too good to be true. Just because Buck ticked every box that said they were perfect for each other. Just because Buck wanted him back, just as deliriously.

How could he not embrace it all?

The noises that erupted from their family was drowned out by the thrumming of his heart when Buck pulled him in for a kiss punctuated by the infectious laughter bubbling in his chest.

The list floated to the floor as Eddie wrapped both arms around his fiancé (holy shit, he had a fiancé), to be retrieved after everyone had gone home. Buck and Eddie would talk about everything – sit Christopher down with them to make sure he was as happy as he seemed as well – and the list would eventually make its way to their bedside table.

On their first anniversary, Eddie would present it to Buck in a frame, and they would hang it in their bedroom as a reminder of the night their drunken selves figured out what it took them years to discover.

Their perfect partner.

#cj writes things #cj answers things #prompt fill #buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #911 fic #love allie #getting together #love confession #maysgrant

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avaford2009 · 1 month ago

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✨A Bug's Life (Rewrite)✨ - Chapter 2 - Hopper's Secret -

INT. HOOPER'S HIDEOUT, STUDY – NIGHT

The camera then zooms out to Hopper's Hideout at the top of his castle. Hopper stares up longingly at the star through his skylight. Floating across his study are hundreds of glowing blue orbs, all of Ant Island's wishes left ungranted.

HOPPER

I feel your pull. My heart rumbles with such...hunger.

Hopper's face drops in annoyance as he turns to his wasp wife, mixing together some kind of potion.

HOPPER

Zing, darling! Did you hear me? I am impatient!

ZING

I heard you. I'm coming.

Zing drops a single speck of gold powder into a bottle, making it turn from bright blue into a sickly, glowing green.

ZING

And luckily for you, I'm devilishly good with a pair of tweezers.

HOPPER

Is that a brag?

The two of them chuckle briefly.

HOPPER

It's rather weak but alright.

ZING

Fifty grains. No more, no less.

Zing hands Hopper the potion and he looks at it more admirably.

HOPPER

Oh, I take that back. You are impressive.

ZING

As I shine in your light.

HOPPER

Tonight's the night, my dear Zing. Glory will be mine!

Hopper looks up to the star before walking towards a pedestal in the middle of his study. He places the bottle delicately on the pedestal's center and rests his hand right next to it. He exhales briefly as he chants arcane words while magic swirls around him.

HOPPER

(WHISPERS) Lucum. Noctis. Terrum.

The sigils on the pedestal and the floor of his study glow with green, ethereal energy. Zing looks to her in concern before staring at her husband confidently.

HOPPER

(WHISPERS) Nefulio.

As he finishes, a beam of green energy shoots from the bottle and bursts out through the skylight until it hits the star Hopper was talking to. As the bottle's energy surges throughout the room, Zing, meanwhile, looks up at the night sky in awe and triumph.

HOPPER

(Shouting) Aurereum Caelum! Astra perenta reum!

Surging with power, Hopper grabs onto the beam, which is now working as a tether between our world and the star and using it to try and pull the star towards him. As Hopper tugs, the star inches closer and closer. Zing look on in amazement, almost as certain that absolute victory was in their hands as Hopper was.

HOPPER

Yes! YES!!! YE–

But just then, the tether breaks and the star returns to where it once was in the sky

HOPPER

NO!

The surge of energy knocks Hopper onto his back. When he gets back up, he sees that the bottle's contents have turned pitch-black. Zing gasps while Hopper's expression changes from shock to utter fury. He takes the bottle and throws it to the floor, yelling in rage. Zing tries her best to calm her husband's temper.

ZING

Hopper! Hopper!

Hopper ignores her as he runs around his study, knocking everything he can find onto the floor.

HOPPER

No! No! No, I had it! I felt it!

ZING

I-it's okay. It's okay-careful! My love, you need those.

Hopper throws another bottle of potion at the wall before taking deep breaths as his wife soothes him.

ZING

Calm. Calm. Good boy.

Zing places her hands on Hopper's chest approvingly before he turns and walks away.

HOPPER

No! I can't take this-this wanting that is never satisfied!

Hopper looks up at the sky and notices all the wishes floating around him. He reaches out and pulls three of them towards him with a wave of his hand.

ZING

W-What are you doing? Hopper! My love. Darling. Sweetheart. Baby. Pookie.

Hopper ignores her as he grabs one of the wishes and almost pops it into his mouth. Zing stops him, placing her hands on the wish and taking it away from him.

ZING

Please, do not devour those wishes.

HOPPER

(EXASPERATED) Just three small wishes. Who would notice?

ZING

The cook who prepares your favorite venison, for one. That's his wish.

HOPPER

There are other cooks.

Zing plucks up the second wish Hopper was about to eat.

ZING

And your best guard.

She picks up the third.

ZING

And please, that one's my mother's.

HOPPER

In that case.

ZING

Be serious. Hmm, how would you like the wishes of Ant Island?

HOPPER

You found the traitors?

ZING

You may fortify yourself with as many of their wishes as you want. No one will notice.

The camera cuts to Zing unfurling a map of Ant Island on one of the tables.

ZING

There's a young ant who takes his basket every month to collect seeds.

Zing takes a figurine of a ant holding a leaf and moves it across the map as visual aid.

ZING

He goes to the anthole all alone, riding through the night. It is said; he always returns with a lighter load.

HOPPER

So wicked. He's taking supplies to the hidden Ant Island.

ZING

We'll find them. And everyone knows that traitors deserve to lose their wishes entirely and forever.

HOPPER

From the moment I met you and saw your wish, I knew you were the only woman worthy to be my former queen.

Hopper suddenly grabs Zing and dips her.

ZING

Oh! (GIGGLES) My love!

HOPPER

Let's go catch some traitors.

Hopper dips Zing again before laughing devilishly.

ZING

You dip magnificently!

HOPPER

Don't I?

Hopper continues to dip Zing all around the study.

ZING

Oh! Such control!

HOPPER

It's all in the arm and the bent knee.

He dips her one more time.

HOPPER

How's that?

ZING

Dizzying.

The two exchange one last loving smile.

#a bugs life #a bug's life #a bug's life rewrite #hopper #zing #wish au #disney #pixar #rewrite

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blushing-starker · 4 years ago

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Another holiday one: Peter and Pepper going caroling together and they visit Tony in the workshop. The bots are wearing Santa hats

"Peter, darling, you know you can get him anything and he'll be over the moon, right? He loves you and it'd kill Tony to know this is causing you so much stress. We could always do a joint gift if that helps? After caroling, the night is ours and so is the mall."

God, what did he do to deserve Miss Potts? She has a solution for all the problems in the world, never hesitates to take what she wants and could probably kick his ass twenty different ways without breaking a sweat. Just last night, she'd cocked her head, put on a disappointed face and Peter was done, defeated, tore himself away from Tony's side at the lab to devour some freshly baked pie Rhodey had dropped by. They'd been working for hours, basically a hair's breadth away from a breakthrough, but Miss Potts didn't like her boys tinkering too long without eating.

Now she's holding his hand like it isn't serious, like it doesn't set Peter's heart aflame because this is Pepper Potts, kind and strong and witty and amazing, showing affection in a public place without shame or fear. And yeah, Tony would never be cold to him outside, but the man's a koala when you earn his trust. Peter has to practically pry the billionaire off from Pepper when the CEO has a meeting to conquer (he's dating a CEO, he's dating a billionaire, he's dating a CEO, he's dating a-

"Sweetheart, I see the gears turning in that head of yours, same as Tony. What is it, Peter?" The snow starts to fall a bit harder and they quicken their pace, catch up with Nat, Bucky and Bruce as they line themselves up before the next porch, ready to start caroling their hearts out. Who'd have thought they enjoyed the season this much?

The others didn't come because decorating the tower and baking dessert for 20 plus people took a team effort. Peter had wrapped an arm around Miss Potts' waist and swung them to the car before they were snatched up by Steve to help in the kitchen. They'd been pressed pretty close, Peter not wanting to risk hurting his, what, lover? Girlfriend? His lover's wife? Either way, he had curled around the tall woman, tried to not jostle her too much in case she got sick. It had been nice. Very nice, really.

The whole thing had lasted maybe thirty seconds so yeah. Technically, this is the first time they've had physical contact for a relatively long period of time. He's eighteen now, not supposed to be getting so hyped and nervous over something as simple as holding hands and going caroling along a snow covered neighborhood adorned with a thousand Christmas lights. But, but he's always been a romantic at heart and the neon glow is reflected off of shiny snowflakes that taste like something pure and special, his teammates are joyous, look decades younger, Bucky's cat Alpine has stubbornly decided to crisscross his ankles and Miss Potts ' is just really fucking pretty, ok?

"Peter?" He gets why Tony can submit so easily to the force of nature that is Pepper Potts ; is rather sure it has something to do with honest eyes and a gentle way of loving broken men.

"Um, you're very pretty, Miss Potts," way to go, Peter. It's a wonder he and Tony even got together when they share one brain cell and it's mainly dedicated to superhero work. Or to Miss Potts.

She softens, tugs at him until they wrap around each other and then kisses him. Light, barely there kisses on pale cheeks, his eyelids, the curve of a red nose, under an unhinged jaw. Nat shoves the team forward, says the next house will probably give them candy while winking at Peter, grins when he turns scarlet. Bucky grumbles, "it's not exactly Halloween," but she yanks the supersoldier away from them so there's some semblance of privacy present.

Miss Potts sighs, sets her chin on his head and Peter short circuits right there, is delighted by the fact that she's taller than him, vows to buy her as many heels and high boots as possible because this is extremely nice and being tucked under her is a dream come true.

"You're so nice, Pete. I don't think Tony's gonna last a month before he says he loves you, not with someone so considerate and amazing. Nat bet it'd take me three months, but right now? Tony would take one look at me and say three weeks. We've been outside for a while, how about we head back home? See if our ridiculous baby got away with sneaking to the lab?"

Oh. Oh, is he supposed to speak after that? Function when she just sent his world tumbling down in a second or two? He inhales slowly, presses his frost bitten lips to a long neck and shivers when Miss Potts laughs, sound as pure and lovely as the freshly fallen snow around them.

---:---------:----------:---------:-----------:---------:--------:---------:---

On the way back home (HomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHome), he catches sight of a pretzel stand and nearly slams them into the side of a building. Miss Potts does that thing where she chuckles almost silently and maybe it'll take her three weeks but Peter's ready to declare his love for her right then, absolutely smitten and aware of it. He wonders if this is what Tony felt when he fell for Miss Potts. Wonders if his boyfriend would tell him all about it soon enough.

Miss Potts strokes his cheek, smile this side of sharp and mischievous. "Does my boy want something?" It's a soft question with a soft touch with a not so soft look in eyes that could tear him apart any day of the week. His web snaps and they tumble down to the street, are saved by the fact there's three feet of snow by the building's back entrance and they weren't that high up.

Peter gets a pretzel from Miss Potts.

------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:-------:-

Their lover (loverloverloverlover) is, in fact, hiding in the lab. There's a neon glow here, too, wrapped around Tony as he reassembles holograms, sketches new designs for the spider suit, revises old architecture plans with the gaze of a hawk.

"Anthony Potts, you put down that hologram right now! You were supposed to help out and decorate; not adjust Peter's suit. Again." Tony jolts back, clicks his fingers and everything disappears from the lab table as if Jarvis had never brought several of the genius' secret files to life. He looks like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Peter isn't gonna let him forget this for as long as they live.

There's plenty of space on the table now so he settles there, swings his legs up and down, grins up at a fidgeting Tony. "Anthony Potts is new." A cookie tray is tucked away behind a pile of papers and it's too tempting not to snack on one even if he just inhaled a pretzel.

"I can call you Peter Potts, too, you know. Don't tease him, I know you would've been here helping Tony out if we hadn't gone caroling."

It's Tony's turn to grin and Peter's turn to flush now. Two more cookies are snatched, shoved into his face. "I kind of like that. The Potts thing. It's nice."

Miss Potts crosses over to them, wraps a finger around the one curl he can never tame and pulls on it until he's leaning on her palm with the sudden urge to never leave the lab. "I'm glad you like it, Peter. Anthony here has to go clean the dining table, but we can cuddle on the couch to warm up before seeing what's already cooked. How's that sound?"

"It sounds like your husband is being punished for upgrading your boyfriend's suit and making sure he doesn't die fighting some weird alien dog." Tony huffs, steals Dum-E's Santa hat with a pout before dragging himself up the stairs to the kitchen. "I'm saving everyone's lives, but no. I gotta see Steve butcher a Christmas tradition."

"There's nothing wrong with how Steve cooks the meal."

"Tell that to my grandmother and nanny. Even Jarvis could cook better and he doesn't have any hands." Said A. I hums in a suspiciously noncommittal way as his creator starts yelling about blood being spilled if a single stain is found in his prized kitchen.

The bots all seem to sigh in relief, roll over to bump Peter's knee or shoulder as affectionately as Alpine. He patiently fixes their elf ears and hats, rubs a few bells clean from grease and motor oil because Tony probably hadn't noticed and wouldn't notice until they accidentally stained something. Don't ask him or Miss Potts how, but Tony's children could ruin a fifty thousand dollar couch with purple paint without there necessarily being a can of paint around the lab.

Miss Potts' plan of cuddling on the couch is derailed when they hear screeching and curses pertaining to five different languages coming from above. She sighs, takes Peter's hand and he already knows she'll come up with a solution. She always did.

(Maybe it was time to explain he'd already found their gifts, twin silver rings with all their initials engraved hidden in his coat pocket.)

(And then Tony starts shouting something in Italian, Steve might be reverting to an Irish accent, Alpine hops on the dining table to pounce on the chicken, Miss Potts has to yank her husband away from the oven, Bucky's hair nearly catches on fire and yeah, he'll just show them on New Year's.)

#peter parker #tony stark #pepper potts #ironspider #starker #peter x tony #peter parker x tony stark #i am sleepy #i forgot #once again #the ot3 name #my writing #thank you darling katie #katie bug #🐞#pepper x peter #pepper x tony

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invaderlynx · 4 years ago

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Booker and La Campagne de Russie

I just watched The Old Guard and honestly, it was one of the best movies I’ve seen in a VERY long time. Of course, now I’m having all sorts of thoughts about the whole thing and particularly about Booker because his backstory intersects perfectly with my historical interests. I know that all the immortals in The Old Guard have experienced all sorts of terrible trauma, but because I am a history major with an affinity for the Napoleonic period, especially the Russian Campaign (and because Booker is my favorite character), I’d like to give you guys an idea of just what sort of torture he faced even before the pain of losing his family (also for fair warning, I have not read the comics):

Please place yourself in Booker’s shoes. You are one of over 600,000 men mustered to march into Russia. You’re serving in an army you never wanted to join, taking up arms for the glory of an empire that’s never done anything for you. You’ve been separated from your three beloved sons and your wife whom you love more than life itself, and have been sent off to fight in a foreign land that’s nothing like the home you’ve left behind. That much becomes evident immediately.

The invasion starts in the summer of 1812 and it is hot, unseasonably hot. You feel it, laboring as you are under the thick heavy materials of your sweat-soaked uniform. Each step is its own torture in the heat as you struggle through mud left behind by hard summer rains. More than a few men kill themselves at this point and although this is just the beginning, you can hardly blame them. Some of your comrades get the bright idea to start discarding some of their extra layers of clothing—underthings and the like. Perhaps you join them, anything to lighten the load. You can’t be expected to carry all this over the long miles ahead. You’ll live to regret that decision.

The fighting itself is worse than the conditions. You never quite get used to the violence. No matter how many times you’re thrust into battle, your mouth still goes dry, your heart still thunders as loud as the military drums’ tattoo, you still choke on that thick gunpowder smoke. You nearly threw up the first time you killed with a bayonet. You remember sticking the man in between the ribs, a swift stab and he is bleeding out. It is only then that you see his face and realize just how young he is. He is a boy, maybe a few precious years older than your eldest. He cries as he falls. You didn’t speak Russian at the time but you didn’t need to to recognize the word “Мама”.

The only thing that makes it possible to keep putting one foot in front of the other (besides your family, of course) is your comrades-in-arms. Against all odds, you’ve found friendship here, men with whom you can share stories and jokes and drinks. You find a few men of around your own age with families, wives and children that they lovingly speak of, but many of these soldiers are young, young enough to be your sons, far too young to be out here slaughtering and being slaughtered. Over your meager meals you tell stories of home and it is enough to hold off the impending horror, at least for a moment. When that doesn’t work, you turn to drink. You drink an awful lot.

The conditions of this foreign land are mercurial at best and your woes are only compounded by your lack of proper supplies. The Russians have been scorching nearly everything in the wake of their retreat, making it difficult for you to forage for food. Your search parties turn up very little by way of provisions and your food supply continues to fall in tandem with the temperature.

Borodino is hell. You see the man to the right of you receive a cannonball to the chest and fall in a spray of red, you see the man to the left crumple as a shot rips through his handsome, hard-lined face. One of your friends, one of those boys that you’d come to regard as a surrogate son who was barely old enough to grow hair on his chin, catches a bullet in the leg. He dies in agony four days later, one of the thousands of casualties of that damned battle. In your lowest moments, you wish you would have joined him.

You were never a particularly happy man, even before the war. Prone to fits of melancholia, they would have said back then. Your darling wife and your three sons certainly helped to alleviate that heavy, aching emptiness that resided in your chest, but it never went away, not fully. It resurfaces with a vengeance now. Sitting with your gun in your hands and far too much liquor in your belly, you think about ending it all. How easy it would be to put a bullet in your brain and finally die. In the end, it’s your family that saves you again. You may not want to live for yourself, but for them- for them you can keep fighting. Besides, Moscow is only 70 miles away and once you take the ancient capital, Russia will have no choice but to surrender. That’s what everyone is saying and you force yourself to believe that it’s true.

Moscow was a lie. You took the capital but there was no peace. There was no food either. The Russians took it all when they abandoned the place, leaving almost nothing for your starving army. Nothing but liquor, which you are very grateful for at least. Your superiors probably aren’t, you think wryly as you raise the bottle to your lips and drink, drink, drink.

Moscow passes in a drunken haze for you. You drown yourself in Russian booze, drinking yourself absolutely insensate. There are entire days you spend propped up against the wall of some ramshackle Russian establishment, surrounded by empty bottles, too drunk to even stand. You remember bits and pieces, shattered memories drifting in and out of the fog. The looting and the things you took (a fine scarf, a silver flask, maybe more), a ladies’ fur shawl wrapped about your shoulders to keep out the chill, the burning heat of a terrible fire and the screams in French and Russian, the acrid taste of bile in your mouth as you splutter sick all over yourself only to raise the bottle to your lips again for another drink. In the end, you’re forced to leave Moscow as the position becomes untenable, the abandoned city burned to a shell of its former self. You never do learn who first started the fire, even years after the fact.

The retreat is hell on Earth, worse than anything else that came before. La Grande Armée is hardly an army any longer, you’ve lost practically all discipline. By now, you’re just a bunch of exhausted, cold, starving men who want nothing more than to just make it home alive. Most of them won’t. The temperatures have dropped to below freezing at this point and you are wishing more than anything that you still had those infernal layers that caused you so much pain in the summer months. The clothing you and your comrades drunkenly plundered in Moscow—silken scarves stolen from abandoned trunks, heavy furs pilfered from store inventories, ladies’ shoes that hurt your feet but do a better job of keeping out the slush than your tattered boots—help, but not enough. Your fingers stiffen to near icicles in the cold as you try your damnedest to massage even a little warmth back into them, your face is wind-chapped and scabbed. You feel as though your very marrow has frozen, and you are one of the lucky ones. Men freeze to death in their sleep in less than an hour. Fifty men will sit down at a fire and only the twenty or so closest will ever get back up again. You all begin to loot the bodies of the dead and—as you grow more desperate—the dying as well. Corpses are stripped naked and left in the snow as the survivors squabble over their threadbare uniform pieces. Sometimes the corpses still twitch and moan but you try to ignore that.

There’s no food either. In addition to freezing, you’re starving too. The lot of you fight and quarrel over moldy crusts of bread, and in some cases even kill each other for them. The more clever turn to other sources to fill their writhing, empty stomachs. Some eat their boots, but there isn’t much leather left in any case. Some carve their meals off the horses as they walk, tearing bits of bleeding flesh off of the warm, moving flanks in a short-sighted attempt to get even a few morsels of meat in their bellies. Others, in mad desperation as the march (if you can even call it that any longer) wears on, turn to each other.

Perhaps you take part in this, perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you sidle a man out of the way to get closer to the fire, perhaps you take a coat off a corpse that you don’t know for sure is dead yet, perhaps you accept a piece of meat that you do not quite know the origin of. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

In the end it doesn’t matter. You die anyway. You don’t really remember how it happened the first time. Maybe you were finally picked off by the advancing Russians, maybe it was exposure, exhaustion, starvation, sickness, any of the hundred ways that you could die in this frozen wasteland. All you know is that one moment you were on your feet, shambling mutely forward, the next you were lying on the icy ground, gasping air back into lungs that had fallen completely still. Four faces are burned into your memory and from one you can still hear the gurgling, watery screams.

That’s when the dreams start, after that first death. Though, you wouldn’t classify them as dreams, they’re far more alike to nightmares. You see that screaming, drowning woman often. You feel her fear as she slams her body against her metal coffin. Even awake you can’t get the sound of her choking out of your head. Sometimes there are soft moments interspersed with the horror. You see a woman with short hair (it reminds you of a coiffure à la victime) laughing, you see two men resting in each others’ arms, foreheads pressed together gently, blissfully happy. To be quite honest, these ones hurt worst of all because they make you regret ever waking up.

You die a few more times before you finally decide to desert. You can’t take it anymore. That tyrant Bonaparte has abandoned this army, why can’t you? You take flight under the cold cover of night, trying to get to the Russian border. You don’t make it very far. You are dragged back—aching, tired, and hungry—and are hanged by the road as a deserter. Perhaps there still is a little discipline left in these ranks, at least enough to allow these soldiers to kill their comrades in the name of orders. You have to wait three days for the road to clear before you can finally run. In that time your body is almost entirely picked clean by looters. You continue your desperate trek back home in spite of it all and die many more times in the weeks (or was it months?) that follow. It never gets any easier.

It’s near the border into Prussia that you finally meet one of the figures from your dreams. Perhaps it is the woman with the short hair who offers you a drink and a coat to put around your shoulders, and tells you bluntly but not unkindly that you’re immortal. Perhaps it is the curly-haired man who helps hold you upright when you stumble and is careful and caring with his words as he gently explains the situation. Perhaps it is his lighter-haired lover who catches you when you fold in on yourself from the weight of his words and offers you affirmations and condolences in a voice reminiscent of a priest. Whoever it is, they ask you to come with them and explain that there are others like them- like you out there.

“What about my family?” you stutter out, almost unconscious of the words as the tumble from your mouth “My wife? What about them?”

They favor you with a sad smile and try to explain, but you will hear none of it. They do not stop you when you tell them that you are going home, and you are glad for it.

With the supplies they give to you, you manage to hobble your way back home. You’ve been taken for a dead man, you realize, everyone you pass seems to think you’re a ghost. You don’t care. You only have one person on your mind.

Your wife answers the door dressed in black. She starts to cry when she sees you and throws her arms around your neck. You nearly crumple, weak as you are. “Bastien, Bastien,” she sobs against your shoulder “What happened?”

That question fills you with icy dread. Your stomach drops as you realize you cannot explain to her what you’ve been through, not in a way that she’ll understand. Even if you explain the immortality and she believes you, she won’t understand the horrors you’ve seen. No one will. A soldier’s burden.

You stay silent and instead cradle her closer as your boys appear in the doorway. You have them and, for now, that is enough. You won’t forget, you will never forget, but for now at least you have this.

#there we go #i made myself sad #you see what this poor bastard had to go through #it does not excuse what he did #not in the slightest #but it explains why he wants to die at least #there are very few things that i would want to go through less than the russian campagne #the old guard #tog #sebastien le livre #booker #andromache the scythian #yusef al kaysani #niccolo di genova #quynh

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technicolor--dreams · 4 years ago

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The object of her affection: chapter 1

Plot summary: Summer 1937. Flighty heiress Susan (Merle Oberon) has been in love for years with her father’s business partner Joseph (Fredric March), and will stop at nothing to get the obejct of her affection, even if it means involving a wise cracking cab driver named Connor (Joel Mccrea) who has little patience for her silly antics.

p.s. i put the actors name and screencaps because that’s how i write, picturing a movie with actors. i hope it’s alright. also if there’s some spelling mistakes english is not my first language so bear with it.

If you had asked Susan Holbrook if she was a sore loser, she would've denied it vehemently, but that was only, of course, because she did not contemplate losing as an option altogether. Since she was born eighteen years before, life had bestowed every blessing upon her. The only daughter of Russ Holbrook, heir to the famed railway dynasty which settled in the United States a century before, she acquired money from her father, beauty from her mother, and her intelligence from both. Since she was an infant, she had been spoiled and pampered, not only by her parents, but also from nannies, servants, and family acquaintances who never failed to stop by the Holbrooks bearing gifts for the littlest one. Her life had been an easy one for most part, as anything she wanted was at her disposal, be it a toy or a pet, or a new shiny pair of shoe handcrafted in Paris. That was, until a fateful spring day on her fifteenth year of life, where she fell upon the only thing her parents couldn’t buy her – love.

She'd first met Joseph about two years prior at her father's annual company picnic. As the boss' daughter, she was required to attend, but in all frankness, she didn't care much for the event. Everyone in attendance was either too young or too old to keep her company, as most of her peers had been sent to boarding school abroad by their parents once they became of age. Those who had once been her childhood friends were now across the ocean, while she had been left behind to be home schooled, her parents far too sentimental to send the only daughter a continent away.

That year's picnic hadn't seemed remarkable in any way. The weather had been considerably favorable, and the park adjacent to Susan's family's country estate provided the perfect scenery for relaxing and playing around. Conversation with her parents had been pleasurable, as much as it can be for any sixteen year-old girl, that is, and she indulged their friends in small chit-chat whenever they stopped by their table. Food and drinks had been good and plenty, and by the time two p.m. rolled round, she was ready to settle on a blanket with a book and doze off in the sun for a couple of hours.

It was during a particularly enthralling passage of Wuthering Heights, that a handsome stranger approaching her father caught her attention by standing in her light. When she put her book down and turned around he was already gone, immersed in chatter with her father a few feet away from her. From where she was standing she could only see his back, but she admired his tall, slender figure and his broad shoulders. She noted that his left finger was bare, not to mention he had a whole head full of hair, which was not something to underestimate in her limited opinion. How many times had she met perfectly handsome men who from the front sported luxurious locks, only to find out when she turned around that God had not been as generous in the back!

The man appeared beside her, after ending his conversation with Mr. Holbrook. "Do you mind If I sit here?"

"Not at all." she replied, scooting aside to make room for him.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Joseph Westley." he extended his hand, "I just started working for your father a month ago."

"I'm Susan." she shook his hand in turn, "But you probably already knew that."

"Firm grip." he observed.

"Father says it's the mark of a great man."

"But you're not a man."

"Who says a woman can't be as great as any man?"

"True. Say, how old are you? Fifteen?"

"I'll be sixteen next month."

"Hm." Joseph picked a grape from a nearby container and popped it into his mouth. "You got moxy for your age. I like that. I bet you could convince someone you were a tree if you talked to them long enough."

"Perhaps. I've never tried. How old are you?"

"Thirty last month." He replied, looking far away pensively. "You know, it's nice to talk to someone young for a change. Everyone here's either five or fifty."

"Tell me about. I had to go to these things since I was a baby. You know, you should bring someone to keep you company at this sort of boring engagements ... “ Susan said coyly, trying to suss things out. “a girlfriend, or a wife."

"I don’t have any. Maybe someday. What about you? No one to keep you company?"

"Oh, no. I'm just there to play good little daughter and be the belle of the ball."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why should it? I'm not one in a position to complain. Besides, once I'm eighteeen, everything's gonna change. I'll do what I want."

"Now, you sound exactly your age." Joseph laughed.

As they continued talking, Susan's fascination with Joseph only grew stronger. It was so different from any other male she'd met. He actually listened to her when she talked, never breaking eye contact and keeping her engaged with questions born out of genuine curiosity rather than mere duty. He treated her like a peer instead of fragile china doll, or a puppy that you pat on the head condescendingly after giving them a little treat.

Susan hadn't been the only person impressed with Joseph, though, as Susan's father himself had nothing but praise for the young man. His arrival to the company had improved business tremendously, and he found him to be a shrewd businessman, not to mention a trustworthy employee. He saw a great future for him in their company, and soon he was a staple in their household, coming to dinner twice a month, much to Susan's delight. In a matter of months, he had become not only a close associate, but a close friend of the family and everyone could only say that the day they had met Joseph Westley had been a blessed one.

* * *

Months flew by, and they soon became years. Susan’s eighteenth birthday rolled around, and with that, her certainty that Joseph would finally reciprocate her love.

"Happy birthday to youuu, Happy birthday to youuu. Happy Birthday, dear Susan, Happy birthday to youuuuuuu."

The crowd surrounding Susan concluded their off-key rendition, clapping and cheering as the maid hauled a white sheet cake with an emblazoned gold eighteen on the table.

"Come on, darling, make a wish." Mrs. Holbrook urged her, patting her shoulder with her lacquered hand.

Susan leaned down on the table and rested her index on her chin, pretending to think it over. In truth, she knew all too well what she wanted, or rather who. In fact, she had been trying to get the object of her affection for years, to no avail. Her eyes glanced across the room where Joseph stood, his dark hair peeking over in the middle of the crowd, and before darting back on the cake she could’ve sworn she was him winking in her direction. She smiled, then blew on the burning candles with all her might. She was gonna get her wish this year, she swore to herself, If that was the last thing she'd do.

* * *

Susan walked towards the balcony, where Joseph leaned over the railing, smoking a cigarette.

"Here," she said, putting a slice of cake on the marble in front of him. "I saved you a corner piece. Those are the best ones."

"Thanks" he replied, putting out the cigarette on a nearby ashtray. "There was so many people trying to get a piece, I figured I'd never get close anyway."

"Consider this one the perks of being close friends with the birthday girl."

"So, how does eighteen feel?" He asked, digging with his fork into the white frosting.

"Don't you remember?"

"It's been a while," he chuckled, "You're gonna have to refresh my memory."

"Exactly the same, and completely different at the same time. There is so much I couldn't do yesterday that I could do now. For example, getting married ... I could just run off to Vegas with anyone and be done in a few hours. I'd be set for life, and no one could object." she said casually, hoping Joseph would catch the hint.

"Except voting, or drinking." he quipped.

"Oh, well. What's three years, anyway?"

"Three years is a lot of time at your age. Anything could change."

Susan waved her hand dismissively. "Why must you always be so practical?"

"Occupational hazard." he polished off the last bit of cake left on the plate, leaving a light smearing of frosting over his upper lip. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you a-”

Susan giggled, unable to contain herself at the sight of Joseph’s serious frown next to his sugary moustache.

"What's so funny?"

"You got a bit of -" she giggled some more, coming closer to reach for his face, then ran her thumb over his mouth.

"Susan." he said firmly, but not without a hint of fondness in his voice, retracting as gently as possible.

“All gone.” She reclined back on the railing, and licked the frosting from her fingers. "You know, I think a moustache would suit you. Look at Clark Gable. Before he had one he was nobody, then boom, he won an academy award. You should think about it."

"Maybe. That's a big change in a man's life." he said, averting her gaze and picking up his empty plate. "I think we'd better go back inside, it's getting chilly out here. Everyone is probably wondering where you are."

* * *

If there wasn’t one thing Susan couldn’t resist, it was a good piece of gossip. Mind you, she was not one to engage directly in the activity, but in her opinion, there was no harm done in being a passive listener. If wasn’t her fault if other people couldn’t keep their tongues tied, after all, and if she happened to be in earshot, she certainly couldn’t help what she ended up hearing.

So, of course, that monday, when she ran into some of her mother’s friends sitting poolside at the Country club after her weekly tennis practice, and found them immersed in deep hushed chatter, she couldn’t help but stopping by - not because she wanted to eavesdrop, of course. It would have just been quite impolite not to say hello, that was all. Etiquette and whatnot.

“Good morning, ladies.”

The small group immediately stopped their chatter, turning their attention to Susan.

“Susan! Come, come sit, darling. You must be parched.” Mrs. Vance, one of her mother’s fellow member of the daughters of the American revolution said, before pouring her her a glass of iced tea.

Susan thanked her and sipped on her drink, as the woman kept talking.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come to your birthday party last week. It’s my Benjamin. The flu, you see. He’s always been sensitive to temperatures, but now I’m afraid age is catching up with him. He’s all bones and his skin, all wrinkles.”

“Poor thing.” Susan said, sympathetically. “Send him my regards, and tell him I wish him a quick recovery.”

Mrs. Vance furrowed her brows, uncertain what to say. “I will, If he can understand what I’m saying.”

Susan put a hand on her heart. “Oh, gosh, I didn’t know his health that bad.”

Mrs. Hoover, a little octogenarian with fiery red hair sitting on Susan’s right side, leaned into her. ”Benjamin is her sphinx cat.” she whispered.

“Oh.”

“Anyway,” Mrs. Vance continued, “We’ll have occasion to see each other soon. Your family is coming to Martha’s Vineyard this fourth of July, right?”

“Oh, yeah, we wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.”

Every year during the days leading to the fourth of July, Susan and her parents flew to their Martha’s Vineyard property, alongside some of their close friends who also happened to have properties in the same area. It was a full on extravaganza filled with music, food, and games, leading up to the big party the night of the fourth, which the families took turns in hosting.

“You better not.” Mrs. Vance replied, “I heard this year it’s gonna be quite the event.”

Her dark eyes closed into slits, her mouth thinning into an enigmatic smile, giving her the appearance of an elder Mona Lisa.

“Really?” Susan asked, perking up.

“Yes, but I shan’t say more.” the woman mimed zipping her mouth.

Mrs. Hanson, a plump blonde woman around her mother's age, jumped in from her seat across the table. “An engagement is gonna be announced on the fourth, or so they say.”

“Oh, how fascinating!” Susan sighed, dreamily. “Whose?”

“Phyllis, I said no talking!” Mrs. Vance objected.

“No, dear, you said you would say nothing. I’ll talk as much as I please!” Mrs. Hanson replied, before turning back to Susan.

“So, I was at the hairdresser yesterday, and who I run into if not Louella.”

Louise Carson, neè Wilson, was known to her family members by her birth name. But to everyone else who mattered she was known as “Louella”, due to her more than average-sized mouth.

“Her sister-in law lives right next door to the brother of the widow of the younger Wilson. You know, the short one, not the tall one.”

“And?” Susan pressed on.

“She says the daughter of the other Wilson brother is announcing her engagement at the party.”

“Which Wilson? the short one?”

“The middle one.”

“Age or height?”

“Both.” Mrs. Hanson replied, before turning to Mrs. Hoover. “Martha, what’s his daughter’s name?”

“Helen.” her friend supplied.

“Yes!” Mrs. Hanson exclaimed. “She’s the one getting engaged. Do you know her, Susan?”

“Not really. We only met a few times. Wasn’t she studying in London?”

“She graduated a couple of months ago and came back home.”

“You left out the most important part, Phyllis!” Mrs. Hoover urged her friend. “The boy!”

“Oh, right. Who is she marrying?”

Mrs. Hoover smiled wickedly through her wrinkles, eager to share such a juicy piece of information.

“You know him. It’s that nice young fellow who works for your father,” she thought it over for a second, ”Joseph.”

All color drained out of Susan’s face as the grip around the cold glass in her hand tightened, her heart beating a hundred miles an hour under her white tennis outfit. She didn’t dare move a muscle, or reply for that matter, fearing her feelings could have transpired in her reaction. If her shock was evident, she couldn’t tell either way, since the ladies around her seemed much more concerned with the sound of their own voices than anyone else's, buzzing like bees.

“Now, you have to promise to keep this hush-hush. It’s supposed to a surprise.” Mrs. Vance said.

“Hmm-hmm.” Susan agreed, nodding, before gulping down the remaining of her tea, her mind barely registering what was happening around her.

The ladies continued talking, engaging Susan in polite chatter, but the whole ordeal had clearly lost all of its appeal to her. What was the fun of gossip when you were at the offending end, albeit indirectly?

So, she got up on unsteady feet and excused herself, leaving Mrs. Vance with the promise of coming over soon with her mother to visit Benjamin and share a cup of tea.

She checked her wristwatch on the way to the wooden building housing the changing rooms. It was only eleven in the morning, but she already couldn't wait for the day to be over.

#novella #original fiction #the object of her affection

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

Vacuo’s Rainman Chapter One

AN: I’ve had this laying around in my google docs for like a year. I don’t know if I’ll post a second chapter or not, I have a plot line, but I don’t know if I can follow up on, because this writes some different from me now. But I’ll try eventually. Now onto the story!

In the living room of the Arc family's house sat a three-year-old Jaune Arc dressed in blue overalls with a yellow undershirt playing with a toy dump truck rolling over some plastic Beowolves while the tv sounded in the background. His father, Nicholas Arc, sat there contently watching his only child play while making aggressive and nearly disturbing sounds of Beowolves meeting their demise. He thought to himself, while slightly worried but happy nonetheless, "He'll make a fine Hunter one day," He paused in thought as the love of his life came down the stairs with something behind her back. "If his mother ever lets him go... Not like I'm any better, though." His mind remembering his extensive measures taken for his son.

The sound of snapping and hysterical giggles brought Nicholas Arc out of his memories, and he turned to look at his beloved with his most confident and dashing smile, saying, "Yes, my Dearest?"

She stared at him for a good 4 seconds saying nothing before bursting out laughing, driving a flush onto the veteran hunters face while getting a chilling sense of nostalgia of his first encounter with Juniper.

Still laughing, his wife spoke to him. "Puh-please, don't do those goofy smiles of yours; they tear me up inside!" Face again flushing the Arc said with embarrassment and a little annoyance that his wife still found his dashing good looks laughable. "Whatever just tell me what's up, Jaunes playing, and I want to watch."

The toddler in question was still playing but giving the occasional over the shoulder glance at his parents over what had his mom cracking up; he hoped it was his dad making funny faces again.

Juniper looked over humming merrily before looking back. "Weell, let's just say that after today Jaune won't be the only one you'll be watching play..." She said playfully letting the sentence stop.

The older Arc looked nonplussed and asked: "What did you find Jaune a playmate or something?"

She hummed some more. "Well, I guess you could say that, but they'll be much younger."

"Ok, then." The Hunter said. "Good for Jaune then, he needs more friends." His wife looked at him for some reason he couldn't figure out.

His wife spoke again: "They'll be here every day, and you'll be looking after them too..." His wife once again trailed off.

‘Why does she keep doing that?’ Nicholas thought to himself, "Alright then, did we get new neighbors or did you meet someone that has a kid around Jaunes age?" The man of the house questioned.

"No." His wife deadpanned.

"Then, where on Remnant did you find a playmate for Jaune? Did my sister finally get pregnant? Oh, was it your brother? I always thought he'd make a great father!" Her annoyingly dense at times husband said confused and then excitedly.

"No! Right here!" She shouted, grabbing his hand and putting it on her stomach and showing him a pregnancy test.

He flushed and looked at Jaune sitting mere feet away and blushed harder.

"H-Honey, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but Jaune's right there! He's too young to learn, and I haven't had time to wash up, I mean-" The man started to stammer. Many things the Arc Patriarch is good at, but reading in between the lines was not one of those things.

"Ugg," The woman groaned, and then looked at the pregnancy test and realized it was backward and groaned much, much harder.

"Honey, please! The boy's right there; this is something I rather tell him than show him!" The man said, stammering harder.

She quickly flipped the test around and showed him the positive results, and said: "You're going to be a freaking father again, Nicholaus!"

"Oh, why didn't you just say so; Wait, what?" The man said, doing a double take.

A goofy grin reminiscent of a specific future goofy blonde appeared on his beautiful wife's face. "I said you're going to be a father again." She said tears began well in her eyes.

Nicholas's face went blank briefly before returning with the biggest smiles his wife had ever seen. Picking her up and grabbing her, he brought her into a tight, but gentle hug.

Juniper could only blush at her husband's sudden explosive affection, wanting to dwell at that moment forever.

Her husband drew her into a kiss before he put her down, only to stop once they heard a childish "Ew, Gross!" from behind them, seeing the young Jaune Arc looking at them like they were insane.

Juniper blushed a bit, while Nicholas just got down on a knee and called his son over. "Jaune! Come over here; we've got something important to tell you!"

Jaune listened, as that excited tone from his father always meant something good was about to happen.

Wiggling his way over to his father, he asked. "What is it, daddy?" Jaune said, knowing his dad like to be called that, and making his dad happy usually meant more goodies.

Under any other circumstances, his father would have internally squealed at being called daddy, but today was different. He took Jaune by the hands and picked him up.

"Jauney..." His father said, trailing off. "Today everything changes; you're going to be a brother!" His father practically squealed, making his mom nearly double over laughing.

Little Jaune could only look at his father, "What's a bra-thar?" The child said, trying to sound out the word.

His father tossed him up a little into the air, eliciting a squeal of joy from Jaune, before adjusting him to a more comfortable position.

"Well, Jauney a brother is kind of like... Well... Um? Juniper help?" His father said to his mother, not quite able to explain to his son what he was about to be.

"Bring him here, Nicholas," His mother said, sitting down.

He did and put Jaune down his mother's lap. "Jaune, give me your hand, please." He did, and his mother put his hand on her stomach.

"Jaune, what do you feel?"

"Warm, tired." He said with a yawn, starting to drift his head back and forth.

"Well, inside of me is something warm, and it's tired too, asleep actually."

"Is it your heart? Why's your heart asleep?" He asked full of childish innocence.

His mom laughs. "No, Jauney it's not mamas heart, no it's a little person like you. They're asleep inside of mama, and in a couple of months they'll come out, they going to live with us, and daddy and mama are going to take care of them like you, and you Jauney... Are going to be their big brother."

They're that word again; what did it mean? The child thought to himself, "Ok, but what's a brother."

His mom looked little tense, herself not quite knowing how to answer, before sighing and just decided to wing it and go from the heart. "You're... They're protector!"

Jaune's eyes widened. "Protector? Like a hero!?" he squealed excitedly.

His mom nodded her head, seeing an easy way out. "Yes, Jauney, you're going to protect them like a hero! You're going to love them, protect them, and guide them when mommy and daddy aren't here. That's what being a brother means."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "That's... So awesome!" Jaune said with blind excitement, still not fully realizing what being a brother meant, but happy for it.

Jaune hopped off his mother's lap and went back over to his toys, picking them up to take back to his room.

"Jaune, what are you doing?" His father called out.

"I got to start training now if I want to be a good protector by the time they're here!" He said, taking his toys up the stairs.

His mother and father could only smile at each other before making eye contact, an unspoken conversation happening, both agreeing.

Juniper Green Arc rose up and kissed her husband's cheek, saying "Go, go and help him. You know how you Arc's are when you get motivated."

He nuzzled his nose against hers. "Well, you would too. It's how I got you to love me." Nicholas said sweetly to his darling wife.

She lets out a dry laugh. "Ha, that or the fifty times you asked me out, and I finally realized how cute your pout is. Oh, there it is right now." She said with a laugh.

Nicholas, definitely not pouting, said with a huff. "Couldn't say it was my dashing good looks, could you?" She merely laughed again. "Alright, fine. I'm going to go teach Jauney the basics of footwork." He said with a flush face but moved with excitement.

"Make sure you don't hurt yourselves!" Juniper called out to her husband moving up the stairs, watching the other things that drew her to her husband, from that tight body and cute butt to the confident way he carried himself when he was happy, oh, how she loathed seeing him down, it was like watching a puppy die. Oh, and who could forget those beautiful blue eyes, and that luscious blonde hair. Gods, the Arc genes just had it all; it was downright unfair to the competition.

She chuckled at the memories of having to scare off more than a few would be seductress, not that her husband knew either too love blind or dense to notice, more than likely the latter as according to one of his former teammate from Beacon, he had more than one girl after him at the time and he never noticed too focus on being a hunter, only realizing years later on a mission. His teammate still laughed at the memory of him screaming wildly into the night, and she did too after she saw the video.

Juniper mentally then began preparing herself for going back to Atlas, as Nicholas Arc had sworn an Arc promise to see her safely through any pregnancies, and an Arc never goes back on their word.

Ha, at least she wouldn't be alone this time. Little Jaune would be there with her, and that's all that mattered, no doubt the Fervent Hunter of Ansel would be making a reappearance soon.

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My parents were acting weird, the first thing after teaching me how to move funny, and making a promise to practice every day, dad made me and mom go live in the hospital far away from home, and I knew it was far away cause he saw the land go bye bye from the plane.

Then mom started to get fat, like real fat, but just on her belly and then got sick like every morning. I guess that's why she in the hospital, not sure why I'm here, I miss dad, but he comes by sometimes.

Mom says it helps that I'm here, I don't get why though. But as long as mom is happy, I'm happy.

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Juniper holding her baby in her arms felt more than saw her husband enter the building, the constant shaking on the floor was a dead give away.

The shaking got louder as she felt her husband's presence down the hallway, all that stood between them was a dusteel electronically locked, bomb proof door.

The poor door never stood a chance as it was in between her and him.

The door flew off with a thunderous clap and got stuck in the wall, never had she been gladder that she had sent Jaune, and the employees away, she did not want another incident like her last pregnancy, that unfortunate man to get in the way was still recovering.

"Is it true?" Her husband said with nary, a huff, presumably running from wherever he was to her after the nurse called him to tell him that his wife had gone into labor.

Holding up her newest addition to the family as evidence, Juniper said, "Yes." With tears in her eyes.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, looking with awe at his child. "Is the baby a," Nicholas began to ask, "A girl, a beautiful baby girl." His wife answered.

The man nearly began to break down, crying there as he moved over to his wife.

"Have you thought of a name for her yet?" He asked in between sob, never thinking he'd make it this far again after their first experience.

"No," His wife answered back, "I was... Thinking Jaune should try and think of a name for her." Juniper said sheepishly.

Bewildered, her husband looked up from their child and at her. "Wha?" Was the only thing to come to mind for the papa arc.

"Now, Nicholas, it's just Jaune's been cooped up in here with me for the last nine months, I thought that he should at least have a say-" Juniper began to stammer, till Nicholas took her hand and looked her in the eyes.

"It's fine Juniper, if you think it's a good idea, I believe you... And we can regret it after you get off this pain medication." He said with complete seriousness.

They stared each other in the eyes before lapsing into laughter, barely managing to keep from waking their daughter.

Recovering from the joke, Juniper grabbed her husband's shoulder "Go find the nurses and get Jaune in here, please."

He smiles at her, "Sure thing, honey." Giving her a quick kiss before he left.

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Jaune was with the nurses thinking to himself that now it wasn't just his parent acting weird. The nice ladies were all acting weird too, making him leave mom when she started screaming, saying something like how children aren't meant to see this. Why? Mom's in pain, he needs to be there so he can kiss the boo-boo and so it can get better. That's what mom and dad would do for him.

That's when the nice ladies told him his dad was here, and that they were taking him to see him, and someone special. But, who's special? Everybody he cares about is here, well besides that white-haired girl he met a couple of days ago. She was mean but made him feel funny, like not sick or laughing, but more like his heart was happy. He wishes he knew her name.

Maybe it's Uncle Toe or Aunt Sissy? But they already left a couple of hours ago when they started letting people say hi to mom again, but they still won't let me see her yet.

Seeing his dad though made all those thoughts drop out of his mind, Jaunes face lighting up like the sun crossing over the horizon, seeing his father for the first time in weeks. Nicholas was no different from his son giving a smile that could warm even the iciest of hearts and more valuable than gold, also unwittingly distracting several passing nurses and one white-haired woman with an almost stunned expression.

Jaune shouted out to his father as he ran to him. "Dad!" Accidentally crushing the hearts of the nurses watching, and also warming them at the same time. The ivory-haired woman didn't seem to mind, though, taking a photo of the scene.

"Jauney!" His father said back as he caught him and spun him around, before showering him in kisses acrosses the forehead and cheeks. Eliciting several coos and daws from the peanut gallery, unaware of being filmed by a snow-hair woman.

"Jaune, I've got something significant to show you. Ready?" His father asked to which the only response was nodding his head.

The pair walked away, letting the nurses disperse while the white-haired woman stayed and watched them leave only stopping when a small, regal little girl called out behind her.

"Mother? What are you watching?" The white-haired child asked.

"Oh, nothing, Winter, just... Nothing." She said, walking the other way, her daughter following her. Replaying the natural sight of warmth in her head over and over again, a view the woman had not seen since her childhood.

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The pair entered his mother's room, and Jaune was let down to see his mom.

"So, where is the important person? Where? Where?" The boy asked impatiently.

His mother giggled and shifted her body to show the baby breathing lightly in her arms. "This is her Jaune, your little sister."

Jaune squinted his eyes looking at her, trying to figure out what had everyone so worked up over her. "Hmm, is she sick?"

His parents gasped at that. "What?! No, Jaune, she is perfectly healthy!" His mother said to him.

"Ok, but then why is everyone so interested in her?" Jaune asked with all the logic his young brain could muster.

"Because she's your little sister; that's why!" His dad said, hoping he wouldn't have to explain what a sister is. Luckily enough, though, his mother covered that.

"Oh, ok, then." The boy responded, looking a little disinterested trying for the life of him to figure out why the baby was getting so much attention.

"Well?" His mom asked him.

"Well, what?" The boy answered.

"Do you want to hold your baby sister?" His mother asked excitedly.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before accepting her, his father and mother carefully setting him down between them and instructing him on how to hold her.

His baby sister felt heavy, but also not heavy in arms, Jaune thought, like he suddenly had all the weight of his toys in hand but scared that if he dropped one, they all would fall and break. Too important to let go of, was a good short version of the feeling. The feeling was weird, like his parents.

"What's her name?" The little boy asked, unflinchingly staring at the baby.

His mom put on a wide grin at the question, and his father merely smiled happily.

"Well, Jaune, I hoping you might come up with one." Juniper Arc said warmly.

The boys head almost shot up, but scared to hurt the baby he merely looked to his mom and asked: "Why?"

His mother drew him into her embrace and told him. "Jaune, you've been here with me for nine months, helping me when I need it and being with me, you've been just as important to making sure she got here safely as dad and me," His mother said with some exaggeration.

The boy's eyes widened, "Really?"

His mother nodded, and so did his father.

"Jaune, remember you're going to be her protector, her brother, you're going to take care of her as much as Dad and I, so go ahead and think of a name for her," Juniper said to her nearly four-year-old son. Which reminded her his birthday was in two months. Nicholas though already remembered and bought a present in advance.

It was at this moment everything began to change for young Jaune Arc, no longer was he just Jaune Arc, son of Juniper and Nicholas Arc, only child and friendless, but from this day forward, big brother and protector of his sister.

The boy nodded to his parents with fire in his eyes, seeming to shine a brilliant sapphire to his parents at that moment.

The protector looked to his new charge and staring at the pale creature in swaddling blankets. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing softly, he could barely make out her heart as he held her close. He could scarcely see any hair on the creatures head, but what he could see was bright and shiny like his.

Staring at his sister for what felt like hours, till the right name came to mine and finally answered, "Rayonner! I think she should be Rayonner!" The boy said to his parents, who had fallen asleep behind him, cuddle together.

He looked to the window, no light. He had been thinking for hours.

He looked down at the baby as it started to move, and he adjusted the child so that it would see him when she awoke.

The child stirred for minutes at a time till she finally awoke and saw him.

She didn't scream; she didn't cry, nor did she whine.

No all she did was a yawn and stared at him with the most brilliantly green eyes he has ever seen — the same color as moms. The boy thought to himself.

He waved a hand in front of Rayonner, "Hi, Rayonner, I'm your brother, it's nice to meet you finally. I've been hearing about how'd you be here for months now, and your finally here! It's awesome to have you here."

The baby looked it's green into his blues, and then with its newborn arms reached up grabbing his hand, giggling and falling back to sleep comfortably.

The boy then at the moment finally got what was so important about this baby, and then once again everything changed. His heart swelled and found himself looking around the room, worry seeping into his soul.

The boy finally understood fear, fear for someone other than yourself.

It was at that moment his dad woke up to see his son pacing around the dark room looking around for... Brother's know what, while keeping a solid hold on his newborn sister.

"Jaune? What are you doing?" His father asked sleepily.

The boy shot around to look at his father before rushing over. "Dad! Good, you can keep Rayonner safe, while I make sure there's no monster under the bed!"

The father had no words for how confused he was. His son already under the bed and then out the other side looking in the closet, making just enough sound to wake his mother.

"Wha?" His mother said sleepily.

The father merely shrugged and waited for his son to tire himself out.

The mother tried to go back to sleep.

Their child didn't stop though, and he kept patrolling and looking, armed with nothing but butter knife, looking for any danger that might harm his baby sister.

It was around an hour late that they put a stop to it and asked what was wrong.

"Jaune, come here." His mother commanded.

The boy complied but stuck his butter knife in his pants.

"Did you ever think of a name for your sister?" His mom asked.

"Yes, it's Rayonner! I already told dad," He looked at his dad. "Why didn't you tell her dad?"

Nicholas Arc shrugged. "I thought I was still asleep." A valid answer as any.

Juniper Arc stared at her husband, before realizing she was too tired, but couldn't sleep till she found out what was wrong with her boy.

"That's a good name, Jaune, but what's got you scared? You're usually so brave, what's wrong honey?" She asked as nicely as she could after only getting four hours of sleep after giving birth to a nine-pound baby.

"I'm scared there might be a monster in here that wants to eat Rayonnner!" The boy said with fear in his tone.

The mother looked at the father, the father looked at the mother and shrugged, holding his baby to his chest.

"Why do you think that, Jaune?" Nicholas said tiredly.

"I-I don't know, and it's just ever since I named her, It's like the only thing I can think of. Like if I put her down for a moment that she'd disappear or someone will hurt her!" The boy shouted out worriedly.

The father looked increasingly worried for his son until his wife then burst out laughing, realizing what her son was doing. Like father like son.

Juniper whispered to her husband, a smile crept over the man's face, and he nodded.

He put a hand down on his son's shoulders, who was still looking for monsters.

"Jaune, do you want to protect your sister?"

"Yes! What do you think I've been trying to do for the last hour!"

"Well if you want to protect your sister from monsters, then swear on your Arc name that you won't let any monster hurt her." His dad said proudly. Unaware of the drastic consequences that would come from this.

"Yeah! That's a great idea, daddy! If I say that I'm protecting her, then the monsters will have to come after me first! Lets do it!" The boy said excitedly.

"Alright, Jaune, all you have to is swear on the Arc name." His father said, both well aware of the meaning of the act.

"Ok. I, Jaune Arc, swear on my name as an Arc to protect my sister from the darkness, and the light, from the worse of man and faunuskind, from the Grimm and the monsters. That should they bring harm upon her that I will use the full extent of my power to destroy anything that would hurt her, I solemnly swear on my name as an Arc!" The boy said with a level of confidence and power that shocked both parents.

His father, a faint trail of tears, going down his face, and his mother squealed and picked up him up and crushed him against her chest. "My little boy is growing up!"

"Yeah, he is." The father said, wiping his tears away, noticing how dark it is. "It's also time we get to sleep, and this bed isn't big enough for all of us, so say goodnight to mom and Rayonner."

"I can't stay here?" The boy asked, sadly.

His father shook his head. "No, you might get them sick, if you're around Rayonner too much right now, but don't worry, Rayonner, and mom will be home with us tomorrow."

That brought a smile to the steadily growing, tired boy. "Alright, night, mom, night, Rayonner love you." He said, giving a kiss to both on the cheek and forehead.

He gestured for his dad to pick him up, which he did, and they walked out.

"Hey, dad," Jaune said to his father as they walked out of the hospital.

"Yes, Jauney?"

"I mean it. I am going to keep Rayonner safe, no matter what." The child said with all of his might, which sounded suspiciously like a yawn.

"I know Jauney, I know, and I'll keep you safe till you can keep yourself and her safe."

"Thank dad; I love you." The little boy said, drifting off to sleep in his father's warm, safe embrace.

"I love you too Jaune, so much that you cannot even imagine what I'd do to keep you safe." The boy's father said in barely a whisper to his sounds sleeping form.

#Toddler!Jaune #Nicholas Arc #Juniper Arc #Arc Family #Light-hearted #Fluffy

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