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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

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The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn��t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them.

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

#I wrote something #oh gOD I actually wrote something #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #alwaysmarveling

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simmonsofshield · 4 years

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Broken, Mended

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppleganger?

Words: 1700+

Warnings: mentions of murder? it’s knives out, yall.

A/N: Y/N was engaged to Ransom. Spoilers for Knives Out in this first part. This is for @ussgallifreyfics 550 follower writing challenge! Congrats! And you’re already over 700? Way to go!! I chose the prompts home and roses. Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

Flashback Y/N sits in one of the many ornate chairs in the livingroom, tears streaming down her face. Joni tries to comfort her while Linda holds her now 3 year old, Rosemary. Ransom runs after her trying to stutter out an excuse, not that he could. Detective Benoit Blanc and Marta both figured out it was him who killed Harlan, there was nothing that he could do that would get her to forgive him.

“Y/N, baby, please just listen to me.”

“No, Hugh. This-This is-ugh! How could you do something like this when we have a child? Linda, would you-” Linda nods and walks out of the room with Rosemary still in her arms. Y/N continues, “How am I supposed to explain to her that Daddy’s in jail and never going to see him again?”

He gives her an exasperated look that said ‘you’re ridiculous,’ “Never? Babe, come on. I’m going to get the best lawyers on my case and I’ll probably get no jail time. I’ll be in and out of court in a matter of days.”

“You literally killed your grandfather, Hugh.”

“Don’t call me Hugh. Only the help calls me that.”

“The help? Are you serious? God, were you always this insufferable and I just didn’t see it? After all this you don’t deserve to be called Ransom. And you know, I love your whole family. They’ve been great helping you with Rosemary while I’ve been gone. Your mother I can clearly tell has enjoyed all the grandma time...”

He speaks through clenched teeth, “What are you saying?”

Y/N begins to take the beautiful ring that has been on her finger or around her neck for the last three years. “I’m saying that it’s over, Hugh.”

She takes it fully off and walks over to him, setting it on the entryway table beside him. Now in cuffs, he just stares at it and back at her. She can tell he’s upset, maybe a little heartbroken, but not a single tear falls from his face. Noticing this just breaks her more. She backs away as tears begin welling up in her eyes.

“I really did love you.”

And with that the cops take him out and put him in the back of their car.

The family has their own drama now having to deal with Harlan giving literally everything to Marta and nothing to them. In that sense, Y/N is relieved to not be tied to them anymore. Though she is still going to miss them.

She picks up her phone and calls one of the only people she would at a time like this. “Hello?” “Sergeant. How are you on this fine day?” “Better now that I’m talking to one of my favorite people.” She can hear the smile on his face. “How are you, Y/N?” “Fine, Sammy.” He knows what she really means when the nickname is used. “Y/N, what happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” “No. It’s okay, I have a car. Is that spare room still open though?” “Always for you.” A sad smile appears on her face. “Rosemary and I may need it for a few days.” “When will you be here?” “Later tonight. I’ll text when I’m close.” “Okay, see you then.” “Bye, Sammy. Thanks.” And with that she hangs up.

“Mama?”

She wipes away any remaining tears and turns with the best smile she can muster, looking down at the light of her life. “Yes, flower?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“An old army buddy. Do you remember Sam? You met him about a year and a half ago.”

“Mm-mm.” she shakes her little head.

“That’s okay. Would you like to meet him again?”

“Is he in Afstan?”

“Afghanistan?” Y/N chuckles, “No, he’s in DC. Just a car ride away.”

“Then yes! I want to remember him.”

“Okay! Well, there’s no time like the present, so why don’t we pack up our things and put them in the car?”

“What about Gramma, and daddy, and Marta, and Megan, and-”

She cuts off her daughter, “Whoa there. There’s a lot going on right now after Paba went to heaven. They have a lot to work out. We can help them by going on vacation to see Sam.”

That seems to satisfy the 3 year old. She runs up the stairs to her room to begin packing, “Okay! Let’s go then!”

Present day Three. That’s how many tours Y/N has been on now. Not that she doesn’t like it. She loves serving her country. But, it’s just too much time away from her daughter. Years she’s missed out on her daughter growing up. She explains as good as she can and hopes that her daughter understands. Mommy leaving a year at a time and having to stay with Uncle Sam is a lot for a toddler’s mind to take in, however.

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N stretches as good as she can in the cramped plane seating. She opens the small shade and looks out the plane window. Water, but she has a feeling they’re close. She slept for a while. Not a moment later, the flight attendant’s voice comes over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Virginia, Washington Dulles International Airport. We should land at approximately 5:50pm, which is just under an hour from now. Please turn off any electronics and stay seated and buckled up until we land and the seatbelt sign is turned off. Thank you for flying United and we welcome you to America and our Nation’s capital.”

The next hour is filled with nervous excitement as Y/N thinks about finally being home and seeing her Rosemary again. It had been a long, hard year in Iraq and she was ready to relax and have a fun summer with her and Sam.

They land and everyone files off the plane. As she walks through the airport, she gets a few salutes and ‘thanks for your service.’ She just smiles back as she looks for something to eat. After doing so, she beelines for baggage claim. Coming down the escalator, she sees many posters welcoming family members and other soldiers home. It doesn’t take long for her to find the one made for her. Bright blonde curls are holding it as best she can above her head and it makes Y/N laugh. It says Welcome Home Mommy! in gold glitter on bright pink paper. Not hard to miss. Little arms quickly bring it down as she trades the poster for what Sam was holding before running over to her.

Y/N crouches down, arms out as her little one barrels into her. Happy tears run down both their faces.

“Mommy, mommy, look!” she hands the flowers over so she can wipe her face. “They’re called roses. Aren’t they pretty?”

“They're beautiful, baby.”

“They have my name in it!”

She laughs, “They sure do.”

She stands up, carrying the bouquet in one hand, holding her daughter’s hand with the other as they walk to Sam. “Got anything for me?”

“Uh, no.”

She takes a sharp inhale, “Gotta step up your game, Wilson. You’re getting beat out by a four year old.”

He hangs his head in mock defeat but quickly brings it back up with his signature gap-toothed grin. She knocks shoulders with him as they continue their walk to baggage claim.

“So how has this year been with Sam, little one?” Y/N asks as they drive back to his place. “Was it so much fun?”

“Yeah! Did you know I turned four while you were gone?”

Y/N gasped, “No! I thought you looked taller.”

“Yeah! And on my birthday, Uncle Sam let my bestest best friends come to his house.”

“Ooh, I bet that was fun.” She side-eyes Sam who is smiling but shaking his head. She assumes having a bunch of kindergarteners is his house was not something he expected to ever happen.

“It was amazing!”

“How’s kindergarten going?”

“Good.” she answers with a shrug, “we’re learning letters and colors and shapes and how to count to a hundred.”

“Wow. You’re going to be smarter than me someday.”

She looks at her daughter in the rearview mirror who is just smiling. Only a few minutes pass before she’s out in her carseat. As if he was waiting for this moment, Sam speaks, “So, how was it?”

Y/N shrugs, “The usual, I guess. Nothing to report.”

“Okay.” he nods slightly “Can we talk about the other thing then?”

Y/N sighs, “Now?” she asks, trying to avoid the upcoming conversation.

“When else, Y/N? You avoid it by spending most of your time with Ro, and at night you don’t want to because you’re ‘too tired.’”

“I was just on a really long flight, Sam-”

“No. I don’t want to demand it out of you but don’t you think you owe me an explanation? I opened my house to you for five months, then I had to spend a year with your daughter and everyone thinking she’s mine, and having to explain that ‘no, mom’s in the army and i’m just looking after her.’”

“And you think that me telling you what happened in Boston is going to make your life easier? Sorry to be such an inconvenience.” Y/N asks, defensively.

He takes a deep breath, “You’re not. I’m sorry. It’s just, I let it go when you showed up because whatever happened was fresh. But then time kept going by and I thought you would bring it up on your own and you never did.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding and nods slowly, “Yeah, well it was a lot to process. I’m going to give you the short version because that’s all I have the energy for right now.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.”

She closes her eyes and takes another breath, “I’m sure you figured it out but I broke off the engagement with Ransom.”

“I did notice a lack of a ring when you first came. It must’ve been bad huh? You did love the guy.”

“Really bad.”

And he accepts that for now.

#gallifreys500 #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers series #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu ff #marvel ff #marvel #mcu

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Ridikulus Pt 27

…

All is found Lyrics used

…

Smiles lingered in your being helped off of Lipte in the stables and again the comments on the age of the forest and caves of glow in the dark butterflies and lizards with stones far older than the written word in your old world had you looking to the pair now freeing their undressed steeds. Unable to help it you looked over Thranduil’s face then asked, “15,000?”

His brow rose as he asked, “I do not follow.”

“How are you 15,000 years old?” Your question made him chuckle and Glorfindel smirk.

Thranduil, “Are you questioning the number or my surviving for so long?”

A passing group of guards off to their own patrols and Glorfindel said, “Let us get you off your feet, Dearest.”

The whole path you glanced between the two men with their hands across your back after the shake of your head freeing a butterfly from your bangs. Through the large double doors you joined the pair to the sitting room where Thranduil helped you into one of the arm chairs and set a foot rest in front of you as you eased off your boots and set them aside and smiled at Glorfindel when he eased your sore feet onto the stool he pushed closer to you. Button by button Thranduil undid his robe leaving it on a chair along with his circlet on his path to the kitchen while Glorfindel lit the fire and lamps for you then went to help Thranduil.

Leaning back you waited until the King had returned with a tray of snacks to go with the tea Glorfindel was carrying. With a grin Thranduil asked you in the hall, “You didn’t answer my question, is it my age or how I survived this long that puzzles you?”

The trays were set down as you stated, “It’s 15 thousand years. It’s just, so long.”

When he sat beside you his eyes trailed over your face in your glance at the cup Glorfindel had passed you, in a croak you started to ask, “How-,”

His brow raised at your pause before he asked, “How what?”

“I, I don’t-.”

His fingertips cradled your chin turning your head to look up at him and his soft smile, “Ask me anything.”

“How long were you married?” Steadily he drew in a breath then let it out as he turned his gaze away from you and rested his hand at his side counting mentally with taps of his finger on his thighs, “If you don’t-.”

He turned his eyes to you again, explaining, “It is a difficult question. There was three centuries of supervised courting until our arranged marriage was solidified at the middle of the second age.” He wet his lips, “There was another four centuries until our kingdom was finally sacked and we’d settled here. The official ceremony was after the new palace was formed, half a century later we had Legolas and she fell when we tried to aid those in the lands of Angmar to clear it of their Dragons on our way back from the wars at the first sight of their nests.”

“So, that, wow, seven centuries? What type of courting?”

He drew in a breath, “There certainly wasn’t any physical contact past the allowed three dances at celebrations, our, in arranged unions it is difficult to find a solid footing as partners. I went from a low standing to a Prince, requiring a marriage.”

“How, you said half a century, roughly, assume as an Elf, if I had a child, how old would that child be? How old are the twins, they’re the size of toddlers but they seem, older.. Dad said Estel is seven and they seem pretty even with Em.”

Thranduil chuckled, “Fifty would roughly be equated to, perhaps a ten year old mortal child.”

Glorfindel, “The Princes were seven when they were taken.”

Your brows rose, “So it’s going to take how long for them to get, your size?!”

They chuckled and Glorfindel stated, “Roughly a century. Though Estel is half mortal, so his aging would be closer to Em’s.”

Your hand reached up and your fingers traced the tip of your ear, “Now that we, that our ears are like this-.”

Thranduil, “There is no way of telling other than to wait it out. Due to their bond there is chance, as other Elven youth raised by mortals they might grow quite rapidly as to not be excluded from their kin.”

Glorfindel, “In the time our kin have fostered your young they have grown quite rapidly, I would assume your kin would continue to grow normally.” Making you nod again.

Thranduil scooted closer to you pulling the footrest closer to you in your next sip to prop his sideways bent leg upon to lean a bit more to your side placing his free hand on your knee. “Though, and I do mean this respectfully, if we, the three of us, were to have a child then it would be a waiting game to see how the child would grow.”

Little by little your questions flooded out only solidifying their believed unions with you were nearing at the topics you were discussing, the great test of it was when Thranduil asked, “I do have to ask, Glorfindel stated your relationship in school with a, Sebastian was innocent, however, your union with Charlie,”

You shook your head, “We were together for my first two years in school, it wasn’t a marriage. And barely were together a couple months before Riddle died.”

Thranduil, “There are certain levels our relationships take constituting a union.”

“You’re asking if we had sex?”

He nodded, “In not so, abrupt terms, but yes.”

Glorfindel eyed you in your inhale then added, “If you had, it would, there are two of us, leading to the questions of what you have experienced so we might know how our relationships would deepen together. Should it be to solidify first before anything physical were to happen with one or the both of us, separately of course.”

Thranduil nodded, “We would never demand or outright assume for us to share a bed together unless it were your wish.”

“We, did have sex, a handful of times. We were together in school only kissing. In the end of my second year he graduated, we split, he didn’t want to keep me away from anyone else if I’d found someone while at school. It was a few years then I met Sebastian, again, just kissing and he said we could take a year off to let me finish school and then see where we were in life and if we could work it out, but not long after he was engaged and having a baby with someone else.”

The admission making their jaws clench a moment only to relax seeing you weren’t troubled over it as they were. “After I had graduated and was working at the school was when Barty played my boyfriend. It was a few months before Tonks and Remus got married, with Charlie, we got back together for a bit. That’s when we slept together. Then, we fell out and I ended it. Barty played my fiancé and I had to fake my pregnancy. Then, I died, and, the world sort of fell apart we got sent into separate ends of it.”

Glorfindel, “Do you still care for one another?”

“I,” you wet your lips, “We grew up together, so, I don’t want you to misunderstand. I love him, I do have love for him, yes we do have a past, but that’s it, a past. He wasn’t interested in settling down, he loved racing off after dragons and I can’t be like that for him. He understands, if that’s what you’re worried about. Plus-,”

Thranduil, “Plus?” He asked while Glorfindel claimed your surprisingly empty cup.

After a soft sigh you answered, “It was sort of, confusing. I was,” the pair’s eyes narrowed slightly and their hands laid over yours fidgeting on your lap. “I was close to breaking, from the weight of it all. Dealing with Riddle, my aunt Bellatrix, Fenrir, and somehow Charlie had thought up that, Fenrir raped me,” Their lips parted and you continued, “The whole time he seemed, bottled up and just kept growing angrier and picking fights until he just shouted at me that I wasn’t being honest. That I was hiding things from him, and that I wasn’t trusting him with what had supposedly happened to me.”

Glorfindel, “Why would he assume-?”

“The night they killed Fenrir, they all hid their memories, took Swooping Evil venom to forget what they did. They figured he must have heard them talking about it before they wiped it all out. But they talked to him after,” you shook your head, “But I was done. It was too much. I don’t hate him, I could never hate him for wanting to be there for me.”

Glorfindel smiled folding his hand around yours, “I understand perfectly. He is part of your, I would say family, if that does not make you uncomfortable.”

You let out a weak chuckle, “It is an awkward little family we have. But we’ve settled into it. We’re all we’ve ever had.”

Thranduil claimed your free hand kissing your knuckles asking, “We have supplements, to hold off pregnancy, does your kin?”

You nodded, “Ya, all us girls take it when we’re old enough.”

Thranduil’s lips parted, “Your females take it?!”

You nodded then glanced at Glorfindel when he asked, “Why would you inhibit your abilities to be with child when it is the men who could handle that aspect much easier?”

You forced a smile, “Because not all men from our world could be trusted to protect us from, ‘surprises’ like me. Like Barty’s one nighter, he’s one of the rare exceptions actually wanting the child. Even Harry would have wanted Fin, or at least to help Sirius with him. If we want to control that aspect we have to take on that duty.”

Thranduil’s hand gave yours a gentle squeeze making you face him as he shifted to face you more, “I assure you, the pair of us will stick to our regimens. You will not be required to handle that duty as well. You are a teacher, a mother already, you have so many to look after, to protect. We are here for you, to protect you.”

At a loss for words you simply stated, “Thank you.” Making the pair smile and lean in to gently kiss you one at a time each grinning at your mint colored hair.

The opening of the door however brought a messenger into view, he bowed his head and handed off his message to the King when he had crossed the room. Beside you Thranduil read the note then sighed stating, “Thengel has inquired upon the status of your cousin wishing to hear if their friend, Ted, has found his family again.” He bowed his head to the messenger who hurried off after he added, “I suppose we shall have to write to him sharing their reunion.”

Peering at Glorfindel your fingers eased through the ponytail laying across your chest asking, “Have any of my relatives tried to hug you yet?”

Thranduil chuckled shifting to rest his arm on the back of the couch facing you to ease his fingers through the ponytail laying over your shoulder while Glorfindel scooted closer to you letting you lean against his chest so Thranduil could prop your legs up on his uncurled leg while the other laid flat under yours. “Past Em, no.”

Thranduil teased, “Well if they do we are to fake a sneeze to signal we are unwilling to accept.”

Glorfindel chuckled tilting your head to the side allowing him to steal a firm kiss on your lips, “I doubt any would try to hug me, and I hope that I would not have to use that trick.”

Slowly Thranduil’s hands moved to start rubbing your feet until another messenger arrived making him furrow his brows and nod then set it aside asking, “Are you tired?”

Your eyes shifted to the note then back to his eyes, “Is that your subtle way of asking me to leave?”

His lips parted and he shook his head, “What? No! Nothing more than my wishing for you to get enough rest.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully making him smirk in return with his own challenging gaze while Glorfindel’s lips met your cheek as you murmured, “Mhmm.”

Thranduil eased closer to you kissing your other cheek, “For that we are all going to bed.” A quick giggle came from you as they lifted you between them and carried you to the King’s bed and settled you down, removing their boots and scooting closer to you. Glorfindel stole the chance to lay his arm over your middle when they both laid down around you each claiming a lingering kiss before purring, “Off to sleep.” Making you giggle and settle between the pair drawing the covers higher over you while they slept on top of them draping their arms around you closing their eyes as you closed yours.

…

In the darkened room when the fire had burned out a furrow of your brows and withheld whimper from you had the duo around you lifting up to look you over in the faint moonlight. Deep in the dark fields around Rohan sitting up in the middle of the field outside of it your eyes widened in the rush of riders armed to the teeth halfway dressed to face off with the Trolls surrounding the city. Orcs and Wargs between the crude catapult pushing trolls raced forward and a distant scream jerking you into the main hall alerted you to your dreaming state. In the bed clearly belonging to Thengel in his race from the room his little girl had been brought by a servant and his cousin stood guard over his groaning pregnant wife in the bed Healers were trying to help stop her sudden bout of bleeding.

A sharp snap of your silver eyes flicking open alerted the men to your dream and as you sat up the purple shade melted back into place. Lifting your palms coated in white flames you whispered, “Meet me in Rohan,” sending a flaming message of yourself to Tonks.

Glorfindel, “You had a dream on Rohan?”

“Trolls and orcs are attacking them.”

Thranduil nodded stating, “We could send aid.” Mentally alerting a group of his guards to gather in one of the gardens while you leapt from the bed to find and tug your boots on again. “That was the whole dream?”

“Thengel’s wife’s in labor.”

Glorfindel asked in their jumping up to pull on their armored shirts and weapons along with their boots from their now shared weapons closet, “You wish to help her or guard her?”

“She’s bleeding and in pain, well, more pain than normal, something’s wrong.” That had their faces drop and they turned with hands on your back to guide you to join the waiting soldiers you guided through your doorway.

Into the central path in the heart of Rohan the Elves filed around you in your spinning stance seeing the Men scrambling after the night guard had caught the distant scent of warg who stole glances at Tonks popping up a few feet from you.

“Ted!!” A pair shouted as Thranduil ordered his soldiers to fan out around the city soon added by more through your doorway joining the Men as you neared Tonks at her chuckling greeting to the pair racing off as well.

Tonks locked her eyes on you, “City’s under attack?”

“Yes, but I need a familiar face, Queen’s in trouble,”

Tonk muttered, “The baby..” You nodded and she said, “We can’t help with the Trolls?” She asked hearing a shout about the creatures while Thengel raced off to join his men stealing a glance at the stream of Elves joining in with a simple grin spotting Tonks and Thranduil in the distance in the moonlight beside you and your enchanted doorway.

Waving your hand you summoned a handful of sunstone powder chunks you turned and offered to an Elf soldier, “When you reach the edge of the city throw this as high and far as you can.” He bowed his head accepting them and raced off as you said, “Baby time.”

A swish of hands from you and Tonks turned the giant boulders sailing for the city into seeds calming those waiting for impact in their flight to being battle ready. Up to the main fortified hall you raced taking the steps two at a time bursting through the open door with Thranduil and Glorfindel after you following the groans of pain leading you straight to the open King’s chambers. Around the Queen the Healers had gathered and your eyes shifted to Halmar, “Hey,” Through the edges of the shuttered windows a sudden burst of sunlight erupted lighting the now far from sneaky army between the stone turned Trolls easing the destruction of the cowering orcs and wargs.

With a bow of his head he replied, “Your Majesty.”

His eyes followed you in your path to the Queen’s side, who had shifted onto her back looking over you and the Elf Lords behind you nodding her head to the King she recognized, “Hi, I’m Jaqi, sorry to burst in but you’re in pain, may I?”

Your hands were extended a bit when you had knelt on the bed beside her and she nodded letting you touch her still stomach. Her eyes flinching over your face while Tonks named herself as the former Ted and that you were her cousin, calming the now whimpering Queen at another press of your fingers across her hard belly. The silence was broken as she stated, “My stones, I was told it was too late to try for a son, but we didn’t listen…Now we will have to bury-,”

Her eyes widened meeting yours as you said, “No burying, now I need you to trust me,” you looked to Halmar, “King’s Cousin, I need you to carry the Queen,”

Tonks, “Mungo’s?”

You nodded, “Mungo’s.”

She nodded and raced off, “I’ll get Thengel.” Darting out of the room while Halmar inched closer to the confused Queen.

She asked, “Carry me, why?”

“I’m taking you to our Doctors, your babies aren’t moving, we have to see why.”

Weakly she asked, “Ba-, babies? What could your Doctors do?”

“Right now we have to get you there or we could lose all of you.” That had Halmar lifting her and Glorfindel accepting hold of her concerned daughter asking to come too, a pair of Healers also joined your group to ensure her safety in the King’s absence. Through your doorway you took her into the bustling Mungo’s in the middle of a rough storm signaling what you felt to be an incoming awakening of Fin and Em bringing them to you. A Doctor approached eyeing the tall group behind you asking in Japanese knowing from prior visits you spoke it as well easing translation, “What is the problem?”

He guided you over to an empty exam room where she was laid on the bed, “Her belly isn’t moving, pain, and bleeding.”

With a nod he got to examining the Queen with her permission to expose her belly with the arrival of the confused and no longer argumentative King beside Tonks where he noticed a few telling blotches of yellow across her skin making him ask, “How long have you had these yellow blotches?”

She replied timidly, “Since I was a child, all women in my line have Stones.”

The Doctor nodded and said, “Well that would explain the problem, for now we need to ready you for a c-section to get baby out.”

Thengel asked in his step out, “Baby out? What is this section he speaks of? Will it be painful?”

“Don’t worsen things by worrying, it’s not painful they will numb her stomach for the incision,”

That had him inhaling making Thranduil grip his shoulder to keep him from shouting to say, “I assure you this is not dangerous. Queen Jaqi has delivered her daughter this way.”

The Queen muttered, “They wish to cut me? How could I bear the scars. My Stones already lesson my appeal as Queen…”

At that you raised your shirt to tap the small scar under your belly button, “This is my scar.” Parting her lips as she reached out to tap the barely noticeable scar also calming the King, “It is a bit of pressure, no pain, but something is wrong and to help this along for your safety and theirs you have to trust us.” She nodded and your head turned to the trio of Doctors returning spreading your group. Thranduil urged Thengel to the Queen’s head and you stepped aside to her belly alongside Tonks.

The Doctor said, “More Kerfuffles have had us busy, we might need your hands if my suspicions are true on how many we are facing.”

Thengel looked you over asking, “What did he say?” Watching the Doctor adding protective sleeves over his gloves up to his elbow over his smock.

You replied as a nurse began to rub the blood orange cleanser over the Queen’s belly, “Just explaining why it’s so crowded.”

The Doctor said, “Now, no need to be worried, just a tap and you will be numb, just lay back and babies will be here soon.”

The Nurse drew her wand she waved over the Queen’s belly parting her lips at the instant numbness and while you pulled on the gloves the second Doctor passed you after washing your hands you came back watching Thengel eyeing the scalpel in the Doctor’s hand. The shallow incision parting his lips while he held her hands nuzzling closer to her as her eyes shut and Glorfindel turned keeping their daughter distracted by talking with her between stolen glances of his own ensuring she didn’t look.

“There he is,” a snip of the chord on the purple baby boy who was laid belly down on your sleeve coated forearm and palm allowing you to rub his back while the nurse used the sucker to clear his airway for his first shrill cry at his sister being pulled out. Both having been positioned awkwardly, the after birth was next and her womb was sealed again while she smiled at the sound of the second Doctor lulling a cry from their daughter as well now joining her brother to be cleaned and weighed.

A glimpse around had a few moments to remove a cluster of small growths that had caused the trouble before her belly was closed fully and the Doctor said, “These Stones, you have gotten in your family line it is called Grop in our medical records. We have supplements we can send home with you to help reverse your symptoms within a month and your next pregnancy should be much easier.”

The Queen asked, “Next pregnancy? This will not be my last?”

He shook his head, “Not at all, you look young, from the look of your ovaries and womb you seem perfectly healthy aside from the Grop. Is that something that is common in your town?”

She answered, “A good portion of families have the Stones limiting bloodlines at impeding our carrying.”

“The supplements are easy to make, I am certain Jaqi could brew up a great supply for your town to distribute with those showing symptoms.” The first potion was given to her and she shivered and accepted the second that had her hands lower to her now flatter belly in the Doctor’s saying, “I assure you your belly has healed just fabulously and all your nursing abilities are in tact. Just rest and mind your diet, one pill a day and try to increase your fish intake,” he glanced at you, “I will fetch the supplements and we can get you home here in a little bit.” Lowly to you he asked, “I take it no insurance?”

“Just send me the bill.” Earning a nod from him in his path out of the room with congratulations removing his disposable layers with the other Doctors behind him while the Queen had taken hold of her daughter when her nightgown was fixed again. Stepping closer to Thengel you watched his misty eyed grin deepen at your offering his son, “Here’s your baby boy,” Into his arm he cradled the blonde haired blue eyed boy that squealed up at him earning a kiss from his father.

The Queen asked, “What was his comment meaning on increasing our fish?”

Tonks, “For Grop trying to eat fish at least once or twice a week would aid in alleviating the symptoms. See it all has to do with an imbalance of your diet, your bodies need more so the supplements help to kick that back into your bodies removing the spots and help your body to get rid of the stone clumps the imbalance makes.”

Nuzzling her child closer to her chest she asked, “I could carry again?”

Through an easy grin at Glorfindel bringing their older daughter to greet her siblings while your head turned again mumbling, “Two shakes.” Zapping off to Teddy’s crib in the growing storm shushing him to silence his pouting stance and bubbling tears. And Remus in the other room while he chased the next Kerfuffle loose in his home.

Remus shouted, “Ha! Got you!” His head turned seeing you holding Teddy, “How’s Rohan?”

Your head tilted, “Lotta Trolls, I’ll get him to Tonks.”

Remus nodded, “Good, think we’ve almost got it locked thanks to those journals you found. Another week or so. Will it take long?”

You hook your head, “No, not long now and Tonks’ll be back to snuggle.”

He nodded and turned to chase another shadowy stream, “Ha, there you are!”

Zapping off again you returned to pass Teddy to Tonks, who cradled him closely stirring a grin on Thengel’s face in her introducing him. All while you were off again gathering up Fin in his sling and Em before their fussing could explode into tears and in your return the Doctor was back handing the jar and giving the all clear for The Queen to return home. Halmar again lifted her and her daughter allowing Thengel to keep hold of their son walking through your doorway into the main hall now in the dark again at the fading of your sunlight charm.

Back into bed freshened up again from Tonks’ spell, she was settled with her children and Thengel, who smiled at the picture Tonks took for them. Right when you returned you had stepped out of the room as Fin started to cry at a loud crash of thunder when the storm had grown from Pumpernickel to Rohan. Em in a reach for Glorfindel now was in his arms curling up to sleep again at the start of a soft lullaby echoing through the walls when Thengel slipped out to check on his Men.

Where the north wind meets the sea

There's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

For in this river all is found

Against your chest in your song Fin calmed nestling into your chest luring the eyes of the returning Men to the main hall you were in. Pacing slowly your hand smoothed over the newborn’s back while even Teddy curled up in your song perking up the ears of the returning Elves at the clear fields for miles.

In her waters, deep and true

Lay the answers and a path for you

Dive down deep into her sound

But not too far or you'll be drowned

Out on the overlook Thengel watched his Men returning with lanterns used to signal the clear from the threat. In the front hall Tonks greeted her friends who had approached only to glance at the source of the voice that had drawn them here. Even Thranduil and Glorfindel were drawn into the hall granting the Queen her privacy after she had been instructed fully on when to take her supplements with her breakfast. The Men unable to help but grin at your gentle sway calming the boy shimmering softly as you were.

Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear

And in her song, all magic flows

But can you brave what you most fear?

Can you face what the river knows?

An all clear from the guards on watch came at Tonks dousing the flames of the portion of the field the orcs tried to light on fire. Mid song the eyes of the Men traveled upwards watching a barrier rise in a soft shimmer only to fade again from sight with the peridot band folded in your freehand now resting flat across Fin’s back.

Where the north wind meets the sea

There's a mother full of memory

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

Into the main hall you strolled with the Lords to find Thengel who looked you over and took a lingering glance at the boy in your arm and girl in Glorfindel’s near to the same size as his daughter now drifting off herself once again. Passing the ring to the King he inspected it fully then looked up at you, “The ring is bound to the barrier, only your allies may enter your lands.”

“I cannot thank you enough for all you have done, for my family and people.”

You shrugged, “It’s what we do. Look after our friends.”

Lowering his gaze again he stated, “King Thranduil stated you had a daughter,”

“Ah, yes, this is Fin, my baby brother. Bout a week old now, still getting used to storms.”

“Your mother is still recovering from the birth?”

You shook your head with an easy grin, “My Mother died when I was three. Fin is my cousin’s son, he died on the way here so my Dad adopted him.”

His grin faltered and he replied, “Oh,” watching you glance down at the boy and kiss his curled fist he tapped to your chin. “Your Adad is sleeping then?”

“No, we, um, have been having some trouble with our chimneys. Should be mended soon. Oh, and I do apologize for bursting in earlier, I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”

In a low chuckle he replied, “Queen Jaqi, you are welcome here any time.” With a parting hug from Tonks to her friends you were back through your doorway to Northern Greenwood with the ret of the Elven forces allowing Tonks to head home and laugh seeing the mess Remus had made catching the last of the Kerfuffles. Into the bedroom again you went laying out with Fin in a bassinette by the bed especially made for him. With Em to lay across your chest between the men to steal what few hours you had left until sunrise only to be joined by all three of the boys having been woken in the return of the soldiers sharing what had happened.

Pt 28

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac

Ridikulus- @long-cosmos-overhead, @partoftheminfamily, @alishlieb

#Glorfindel x Reader OC #Thranduil x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Thengel x wife

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

HI WOW TIME HAS SERIOUSLY FLOWN BY FOR ME - enjoy your fratty frat boy in all his angsty glory ;) Let me know what you guys think I miss you!!

“Down to watch Hocus Pocus and pass out candy to wee ones? My parents invited me down.”

Renny’s eyes softened, imagining the cuteness of last year when a toddler showed up dressed as a magnet with an attached note card saying “chick.”

“Okay, usually, yes, but the-”

“DG’s,” I groaned.

Midterms were creeping up and I was slowly dying between late night grading biology tests and the stress that’d been building up wondering about what in the fuck Harry had going on in his mind. He was hot, he was cold, and I wasn’t sure if this was all a massive game to him. It’d been relatively silent on the Harry front ever since the day of island paradise. The memory of his penetrating eyes examining me on the pier, and the twinge of electricity between us had inspired my wandering fingers more than once. I wouldn’t admit that to him, hell, I could barely admit that to myself.

I’d been too stubborn to text him, but not too stubborn enough to wear his sweatshirt out this morning. If we were friends, wearing his sweatshirt wouldn’t be weird. Technically he’d just invited me to meet his dad, which I admit, stung a bit, but a part of me couldn’t give up that he wasn’t into me. Could eyes lie so easily?

The ball was technically in my court to tell him whether or not I’d be going, so…

I slurped a scalding sip of tea, cringing at the inevitable. “Welp, if you’re going to ditch me for the DGs then I might as well go to Harry’s.”

She smirked, “I know.”

I smacked her arm. “Is that why you’re ditching me?!”

“Hey, I’m not ditching you. It’s a thing for new recruits. You were invited, too.”

My ear still ringed with my mom’s shrill scream on the other end of the line when I’d told her - though I’m not sure if she’d be more excited by the fact that her daughter was going to visit the Styles residence or a sorority party.

Renny continued, “And please, as if you’d really go hang out at your parent’s alone when you have an offer to play co-host with Mr. Hunky Mystery Man. We’re sad sometimes, but we’re not that sad. Actually…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m surprised Harry isn’t going to be at the frat’s party.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He said it was a family tradition.”

Renny’s brows rose at the F word.

“Okay, but their house is also huge, I doubt it’s going to be an intimate affair.” Truthfully, I was excited to see how their house would be decorated. When I told my mother I probably wouldn’t be coming home to pass out candy, she’d told me not to worry. The neighbors were coming over and they had a couple of cheap wine bottles to drain. I’m sure not telling her I was going to the Styles's house wasn’t going to be that big of a deal.

“Are you kidding me? If Harry hands out a grand to cabana men then I can’t imagine what they’re going to spend on this party. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

“Wait- what? He gave Ben a thousand dollars?”

“Is Ben the cabana man?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes. Or about a grand, I mean I didn’t count it myself but it was a thick. Stack.” Renny’s brows shot up. “You seriously didn’t see that?”

No wads of cash were in my memories. I was too busy retreating away to the golf cart to notice any grandiose money exchange. Ben’s words when he was saying goodbye to me at the golf cart suddenly flashed in my mind - tell him thank you for me.

Thank you.

I hadn’t even assumed the reason why. Probably because out of all things, I wouldn’t have guessed that.

Renny tapped on her lips, signalling to mine that I painted a nice neutral. “Like the shade. What’s it for?”

I looked to my watch. “Zayn. And I’m actually going to be late.”

“Ugh, not fair!! Why can’t I have an artist draw me?”

“Please, Felix was practically drooling over you last year, and he’s a graphic designer, right? I’m sure he has some sketches of you locked away in a cabinet somewhere.”

Something that resembled a blush spread on her cheeks.

“Oh my god. Does he?!”

“He probably got rid of it by now.”

I shook my head, scooping up my tea and 50 pound school bag with me. Leave it to Renny to have a collection of men up her sleeve at any given time. Even the beautiful brainy boy.

“Tell Niall to try drawing,” I called back. The mention of the frat star turned a few heads at the crowded campus coffee shop, and I bit my lip at the scene, skirting across campus to the art studios where people wishing to escape found their haven.

---

“A little to the left,” he murmured. His golden brown eyes peered over the white canvas, tirelessly scrupulous as they focused on each feature, and I felt my heart beat faster at the intensity of attention. “A little up.”

My head tilted to his command, my exposed neck feeling even more naked as I noticeably swallowed.

Did he hear that? Did the music need to be played louder?

“Beautiful.” He reached for another charcoal pencil in his kit. “Have you been in here before?” His voice gently rose over the Coldplay softly playing from the speaker system.

“No, not yet,” I admitted. “I was going to take a ceramics class, but I dropped it the first week. Not exactly the sculptor type.”

“So you’re not the artist, more the painting?”

My brows furrowed. “What?”

“I’m taking ceramics,” he said, not bothering to clarify.

“Yeah? You like it?”

He didn’t answer, sweeping his pencil across the page - the aesthetic lulling of the way it scratched along the paper making me realize that yes, he’d definitely heard me gulping earlier.

The soothing noise didn’t stop, and he didn’t answer for a time that seemed much longer than a minute. I wonder what Harry was doing right now? Was he in class? Practice? Not that I should even be thinking about him.

The little smug version of me was dancing in my brain, delighting in the fact that somebody else was paying attention to me, that there were other people who found me desirable besides Harry. Sure, this was solely for Zayn’s assignment, and yeah, Harry could easily have any number of women he merely glanced at - but me? I could get by without him just fine, and-

“Your face comes across so soft on paper. Gentle,” he said, glancing first at his work, then up to me, as if trying to see if the reality mirrored the copy.

I shifted nervously, but the swivel chair was more sensitive than I’d thought and I almost went flying off the other side. He laughed a bit, before taking his top lip between his fingers.

“Look, I’ve nearly got this one finished right. I’ve got your basic outline to finish the rest on my own, creative liberties ‘n that, but I’ll need a few more still lifes from you if that’s…”

“Yeah! That’s fine.”

“Might be a longshot with the holiday, but do you mind coming in this weekend?”

Plans of the Styles’ Halloween bash rang as a reminder, and it buzzed throughout my entire body. “I can’t, actually. I’m going to a party, I think.”

“Really!” he set down the pencil dramatically. “Am I going to see you in a plaid skirt up your bum again, missy?”

“Ouch, no! But fair. Cringeworthy, but fair.” I slid down the chair, crossing my arms. His eyes didn’t change in their intensity even if he wasn’t holding a pencil. “It’s the Styles’ Halloween bash Saturday. I’m guessing it’s a family-friendly affair so no, I will not be in anything showing any skin, anywhere. I guess they do it every year.”

Realization sunk in, but it seemed a bit of a show. “Harry, yeah, that’s right. Are you two…?”

I shook my head, thinking of what Harry must say when (or if) he got asked the same question. There was no doubt in my mind.

“No.”

It was some weird “in between” with us, but no was a much easier answer.

“Right, well, that’ll be interesting then.” He bit his cheek, mulling over something he wasn’t quite sure he should say.

“What?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a part of that family. It’s got a lot of history.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Let’s just say there aren’t that many British boys that get adopted by Americans.”

I tilted my head back, put off at the slight arrogance in his tone. There was a protective side of me that wanted to rear its head and bristle whenever somebody talked down to Harry, and I wasn’t sure how to put it away.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You can look up the story, but-”

A knock at the door, and a petite black-bobbed Asian girl peered her head in.

“Hi, I have the room at 5:30.”

I glanced to the clock on the wall, just a little past.

“We’re finishing up,” he said. She nodded, not budging. A little territorial over the studio space. Which, I completely get. Once midterm season hits, the library starts to resemble a refugee posting with people camped outside cubicles and “quiet rooms,” hoping for the prior group to leave a little earlier if they didn’t have reservations of their own.

“Yeah, we’re done.” I picked up my bag, and put my beanie over my head.

“Well, I’ll be in touch then. Sometime next week?” He followed me to the door, and placed a hand to my lower back. I stopped, trying to discern if there was something else behind his eyes. Maybe this hadn’t just been for a project.

But his hand was removed just as quickly, and with a little “See ya,” he closed the door behind me.

-----------

Lines of vintage cars parked outside the Styles’s home wasn’t what I’d been expecting when Harry had shot a text that it was a masquerade gala. Maybe it should’ve, but it wasn’t. I squinted my eyes at a woman in a neon vest waving around her flashlight to the approaching cars and signalling them to available spots along the street.

How was I meant to find him in this madness?

“Here is fine,” I told the Lyft driver. I’d bit the bullet (or rather, my wallet) to get a ride. I thought I’d bypass the embarrassing “car dying” scenario again and just play it safe. Not that I was expecting to spend the night again… the toothbrush I’d stuffed in my purse screamed otherwise, and seemed to burn a hole into my thigh.

But still, totally not expecting to spend the night.

Totally …. not ….

The sound of the Uber leaving made me realize I was doing this. Again. Willingly walking into the lion’s den simultaneously with at least ten other well-dressed individuals.

Expect me tonight, I’d sent. It was a little bold. I had to refrain from sending any emojis, but I’d done it. Played it cool.

Wear a mask, he’d replied. And I felt my stomach drop a little bit. He hadn’t said-

Cool! Gee, thanks for letting me know! Wow that’s so nice to hear! You made my day!

No.

Just a simple three word request. Actually, more like demand. I bristled the same moment my phone buzzed.

Please.

I sighed. I guess it was four words.

Of all the themes to pick though… I rolled my eyes at “masquerade.” Renny had done the opposite, and flew to her dresser, opening a drawer full of toys and masks and - oh my gosh was that a leash? She handed me one, black lace over the eyes that could lift up and over the cat headpiece. I didn’t ask any questions for why she had this so readily available, because guessing from the other contents in the drawer, I already knew the answer.

“You look-” Renny kissed her fingertips- “Bellissima.”

Older, sophisticated silver foxes arm-in-arm with their wives took the time to glance at the young woman approaching the estate.

I blamed it on the deep red dress Renny stole from the theater department (or borrowed as she insisted). It fanned out with dramatic flair like an 18th century production of Shakespeare would - or how our school’s production of Much Ado About Nothing would (which was now short one costume).

The doors opened to the tinkling of a piano.

Amidst cocktail waiters weaving between the masked strangers, someone was actually playing it. He had brown curly hair and I practically raced to his side to avoid standing in the foyer alone any longer.

“I didn’t know you could play.”

The man quirked his face, his hands not stopping.

Even with the mask I could tell it wasn’t Harry.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, stumbling back.

Hands gripped my shoulders, as lips went to my ear-

“Not well.”

Twisting in his grasp, the familiar curve of his smirk appeared. His green eyes were highlighted by golden flakes etched into a black mask, and my breath quite literally caught in my throat. Somehow, each time, I forgot the magnetism they held. And somehow, each time, I forgot that I was absolute putty in his hands.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Something flashed in his eyes and I knew it didn’t come out right. “The house looks… amazing.”

I was floundering, FLOUNDERING.

His nose crinkled the same time he placed a hand to the small of my back. “Too many cobwebs.”

And without a word, he started leading me through the crowded rooms. Cobwebs over the banister and scary paintings of haunted people replaced the usual art in their home - except for the centered family portrait, intimidatingly framed in gold. The cobwebs were a fitting touch. I wondered how many secrets these walls held, how many years things have been kept in the dark, or swept under the rug.

Every family had them, but something told me this place had enough storage in all its rooms to hold more than I could imagine.

We passed a room set-up with aisles of empty chairs and a projector screen that read “Jane Foundation.” Pamphlets and envelopes were lain on each of the chairs, but we walked too quickly for me to get a closer read.

“What’s that for?”

“Later. You don’t know?”

I shook my head. He slowed to a halt in the hallway.

“My parents put on a fundraiser every year for the children’s hospital. It’s how we end the evening.”

My mouth opened and again- floundering. He scratched behind his ear.

“Yeah, I thought.. I don’t know, I thought everyone knew. But I shouldn’t assume I guess.”

I just shrugged my shoulders, accepting that his family had the capacity to pull something like this off. That the were pulling this off. That I was even here. Clearly living ten minutes away was certifiably living under a rock.

He paused, a slight quirk in his lips. With the distraction of the music and the people, I hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. Or him, at me. If anyone ever asked, I’d call him shameless, but I wouldn’t even call it that as he drank me in. It didn’t seem as intentional as that. It was instinctive.

I drank him in as well, and even if it was just a brief moment facing each other in the hallway with masked strangers streaming through, it felt like it was just him and I. How long had we been like this? Broad shoulders in a nice suit, a tall frame that could cover and protect, brown curls that looked so soft to touch, and eyes that spoke of scary pasts and a soft heart that locked me still in place. He was walking poetry and as much as it made me sick, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him closer, to lean in closer...

“Come on,” he murmured, but this time he was in front of me.

I followed, straight to the dining room.

“Oh, you are trying to get me to not fit into this dress,” I said. It was full of catered food from the nicest restaurants in Coast Hills. Last time I’d been in this room, it hadn’t been the most comfortable encounter. Now that the corset was digging into my ribs and I was a little short of breath, I predicted I was in for Awkward Dinner Part II.

“You aren’t hungry?” He faltered, turning to face me.

I gave a coy smile. “Well I didn’t say that…”

“Hey! So good to see you.”

Gemma burst through a small cluster of people, Charlie right behind her. His navy suit matched her slip dress, tapering off at the ends like the foam from a wave.

She embraced me, Charlie soon after. But it was the same side-hug squeeze that made me remember him. Harry noticed my grimace. Charlie noticed Harry noticing me.

“All good?” Charlie pulled back.

“My brother did that all the time,” I said. Harry handed me a glass full of champagne, and I took it, happy to have something else occupy my mouth. I hadn’t expected to say that at all.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Harry said.

“You don’t know a lot of things.”

Gemma perked up. “That’s right, put him in his place.”

“He’s not around much so, I don’t think to talk about him much.” I left it at that, a slight offering to make Harry feel less offended. His expression was impossible to read, and I wasn’t sure if my words had actually helped or hurt.

“I have a sister like that. Moved to Lisbon with her boyfriend. We see her on holidays though.” Charlie jumped with a chill. “Jiminy- it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”

“Have more wine babes, it’ll cheer you up,” Gemma said. And just like me, a champagne flute was suddenly in his hands.

“Well we were just headed to get some food,” Harry mentioned, eyes slightly widening when they locked with mine - a silent plea to take his cue.

“Wait! Let me take a picture really quickly.”

“Gemma,” he sighed.

“Just a little one! Just a quick...second...” She dug in her purse, struggling to juggle the wine and the mini plate of couscous and falafel.

I took a step to the side as soon as she pulled the camera out.

“Hello? Where do you think you’re going? Get back in there.”

Harry raised his brows to me, both in annoyance and apology. I stood next to him, and he placed an arm around me. It was just for a moment, but I still felt him. Always.

Gemma smiled at her phone. “Aww, this is perfect. I’ll send it to mom, too. She’ll like it.” She said the last bit cautiously.

Harry’s face turned unreadable, his eyes complete stone.

“One for me now,” she said, reaching down for something else.

“I swear, she can hide an elephant in that bag and the only reason someone would know is because it’d trumpet during the previews.”

She pulled out a polaroid camera. Somehow, in the past five seconds, he’d gone from mildly annoyed and embarrassed to deadpanned over it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually growled.

She held up the camera so I smiled, but as the flash went off and I looked beside me - he was gone.

“Oh! Harry,” she scolded, but he’d already walked too far away. I saw him weave his way towards the windows of the house and look out.

“You shouldn’t have mentioned her.” Charlie kicked his shoe. He saw Harry too, looking vigilantly out the window. A second longer and he turned on his heel. He stood taller as he made his way back.

“Well, at least it’ll be a good picture of you. I’m creating a little collage of the evening.” Gemma put the camera away in her big bag. She reminded me of a mom on prom night and suddenly I felt like I should send that photo to someone, too.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure it’s going to look so… cute.” Through the crowd, Harry motioned to the food. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to say brief goodbyes to his sister.

“We won’t keep you. Get the pasta pops though. To die for,” Gemma said. “Charlie and I were going to take a stroll by the pool if you want to join us after.”

“Yes! Oh, and would you mind sending me the photo, too? My mom wants proof I’m alive tonight.”

“God, of course. Here.” She gave the champagne flute to Charlie, typed in my number, and sent it off.

“We’ll see you later,” Charlie said.

“The pasta poppers!” she exclaimed, flute in the air as they weasled their way out to the patio.

Before I could wonder where Harry was, he met me by the Sprinkles cupcakes stand.

“Going for dessert first?”

“Looking for the moon?” I picked one of the mini cupcakes and plopped it in my mouth to spite him. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away for a split second before looking back. His smile grew.

“Damn it.”

My heart picked up its pace.

“You caught me.”

He held another cupcake to my lips but I shook my head. “I’m hungry for real food right now.”

He nodded, and without me saying another word, he took my elbow to bring me to his side. It was comforting to have his hand at my back as we walked through the spread of food. Even if it was lightly placed, in a crowd full of people I didn’t know, at least I had a place with him. My eyes widened when I saw them. The glorious, innovative Pasta Pops. AKA rolled up ball of pesto pasta on chopsticks… I grabbed four.

“So, when am I seeing your dad?”

“What?” He piled more food on top of the mountain already growing on his plate.

“Your dad. The reason why you invited me.” I didn’t believe it. Not anymore. The host of the party wasn’t going to sit down and talk about a potential internship at his own full-fledged party.

I put a Pasta Pop in my mouth. His attention broke and he watched my lips go over the ball, puckering as I pulled it to the tip. It’s when my lips came off with a “pop” that he sucked in a cheek, smirking.

“You won’t be talking with Lionel long. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself in the meantime.”

But when I reached over someone’s arm to grab a slider, they stopped me.

“Hey, you.”

His eyes lit up and instantly I was drawn in for an awkward hug. Behind his back, I mouthed did you plan this?

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away with a sly look.

Lionel pulled away from our quick embrace and looked to my pile of food. It was my turn for the awkward shrug.

“No, it’s good! Keep going! We have enough food here to feed a small country. Are you still thinking about medicine?”

“Yeah, not much has changed in the past couple of weeks. Same old, same old.”

He paused, raising a finger. “I gave you my card, right?”

How could I forget the card that’s been burning a hole through my dresser…

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve been so busy studying with these midterms, and work, too...” I let my voice fade.

“What do you do for work?”

Harry slowed as he picked up a napkin, and I knew he was listening in even if he wouldn’t stop and join the conversation. I watched his eyes skirt across the table close to where my hand toyed with the serving spoon.

“Well, I’m a T.A. right now, but I’m also working in the physical therapy room on campus. It’s pretty easy for the most part, blood doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. You’ll need a strong stomach for most cases.” A man tapped him on the shoulder, stealing his attention. “Give me a call when you can, we’ll set something up at the practice.”

He leaned in behind Harry, both hands on his back. “Take care of her tonight.”

Harry stiffened. I’m not sure why. Lionel had such a warm look in his eyes, I automatically trusted him. As he left with his friend, he flashed us one white smile, and I felt loved.

What the heck was in this family. What kind of beauty steroids did they take?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The quip sounded weird coming from Harry, the Vogue Italia model, leaning against the table. But then again, I was looking after his father with a dazed look on my face that was screaming “I wish I was 40 and you weren’t married.” I snapped out of it and mimicked his pose, equally skeptical.

“If I hadn’t seen your dad here just now, I swear I wouldn’t have seen him at all. I barely recognize the place with so many…”

“People?”

I nodded.

“I promised that you’d talk to him.”

“Riiiight.”

“You don’t trust me?”

My brows rose. “That’s a loaded question.”

A spark of indignance puffed up his chest. “What? You actually have to think about that?”

“I’m just saying. Communication is usually the key to building that up. Just, you know, a friendly tip to help you with those future relationships.” I tapped his chest, and he reached for my wrist. A bold move, sober. He thought so, too, for he dropped it a second later. I was waiting for a, “You can trust me,” but instead he turned serious.

“Smart girl.”

He looked at me that way again. A little too deep, a little too long, and I cursed myself for not knowing what to do. He took a bit of his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I didn’t know you worked in the therapy room.”

“That’s because you never noticed me before.”

“Ah, ah,” he raised a finger like his father. “That’s because I’ve never been injured before.”

I let out a short laugh. “You’re an arrogant thing, aren’t you.”

“Just honest.”

Honest.

But would you answer if I asked, Harry? Would you answer if I asked you what in the heck we were doing? Did I even want to know the answer?

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said. And it looked like there was something more swimming behind those eyes.

“I am, too,” I said. “Much better than a sorority party...” My eyes narrowed. “What in the-”

“Y/N?”

Clearly, Viv was just as surprised to see me. Mary Styles was beside her, and she raised her glass to me in a distant hello before giving Viv a kiss on the cheek, excusing herself.

“What are you doing here?” The silver blue dress she wore was glued to her skinny frame like snakeskin. Harry shifted his feet as she came closer and I wonder if he noticed how tight it was.

“I followed the noise and traffic directors and decided to hop the gates,” I said.

“You didn’t get the initiate invite?”

An almost pitiful look befell Harry. “You had somewhere else to be?” His puppy dog eyes confused me.

“Technically, yes. I just, um” - I looked to Viv - “decided to spend my evening somewhere else. You didn’t care to go either?”

“Oh, I come every year. I practically live in the guest room anyways.”

I pictured Viv laying poolside during summer barbeques, coming around for Christmas parties, and waking up in her silk pajamas to Sven handing her delicious pastries.

“Well this’ll be fun anyways. We’ll have our own little sorority party here.” She turned to Harry. “Can I speak to you for a second?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at me apologetically, then back to him. “Alone.”

His eyes narrowed just the slightest, but he didn’t even have to think about it. He placed a hand at my back. “I’ll just be a second.”

Viv gave me a half-smile as she interlinked her arm through his, and they left, abandoning me in a swarming crowd with cold sliders. Without him beside me, I fought the ever-present urge that I didn’t belong, but wandering to the glass doors, I saw the red gown in the reflection, the black lace of my mask. I didn’t look like regular ‘ol me tonight. Nobody knew me tonight. A rush of confidence ran through me.

I was somebody. With, or without Harry.

A twinkling bell carried through the halls the same time I stood a little taller. The piano music died down and everyone quieted.

“I hope everyone is enjoying their evening,” the shrill voice of Mary Styles carried higher as she placed herself atop the spiral staircase. Some people clapped a little prematurely and she smiled at them graciously. “If everyone could please begin filing into the foundation room, we are about to begin the programme.”

I stole another flute of champagne. Programme.

The twinkling sound rang again and people began handing their plates over so they could grab their wallets. Several men apologized as they bumped into me, trying to move around the cocktail waiters. Wherever Harry was, he’d just have to find me later. I followed the crowd when my blood ran cold.

There was something sweet in the air.

The air around me seemed thinner. I looked around, quickly, but all I saw were masks. Even if they didn’t have them on, their faces were starting to blur in my mind.

But that too-sweet scent would never.

It was the man from Kean’s.

I inhaled again, but it was gone, carried away and overpowered by Dior perfume and Gucci cologne. Were they here? Were they watching me? Were they waiting to get me alone?

They’d done it before. Maybe it’d be easier this time...

My mind went to horrible places, and suddenly I was running against the sea.

I scanned as I ran, but it was futile. I burst through the kitchen doors and froze. There, Mary Styles was heaving over the trashcan spitting out strands of pesto pasta.

She looked up at me with the emptiest eyes I’d seen.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” I bumped into the counter, stumbling out the way I came. Her glossy eyes were haunting. Had I just seen Mrs. Styles eject the contents of her stomach?

Alone, I shook it off, trying to calm my breathing. They couldn’t do anything to me here. Hell, Mrs. Styles was on the other side of the door. I would scream. People would hear me.

“Hey, you okay?”

And even though I recognized the voice, when his hands were placed on my shoulders I flinched.

“I smelled them,” I said, looking over my shoulder to the kitchen.

“Who?” Harry’s eyes followed my gaze. He took a step toward the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t,” I said.

He stopped, confused. “I mean, you can, but I think your mom is sick,” I continued.

My tone wasn’t convincing. He bit his cheek. “Right.”

And even though we both knew that his mom didn’t have food poisoning, that was a conversation for another time.

“They’re here, Harry.”

“What are you talking about?” He paused. His eyes saw the panic in mine and he swallowed, hard.

“They can’t be. There’s security.”

“I walked through the door, no one searched me or checked my name off a list.”

“You’re a girl, it’s different. The security has a list of faces to watch out for, and trust me, they’d stand out.”

“No- Harry,” I stammered. He wasn’t get it. “Their cologne. I haven’t smelled it since Kean’s.” The name tasted bitter on my tongue. “I was there- and your mom was talking and I was following these people but I smelled them. And it was so crowded so I ran and she was in the kitchen, and I don’t- I don’t know how, but they’re here. I didn’t imagine that. And no one else would be wearing that. No one else could smell like that.”

I gasped for air, not realizing that I was on the verge of sobbing until Harry’s arms came around me.

“Hey,” he soothed. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

I let him hold me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Their living area was too empty now. Too quiet. And even in his arms, even knowing what he’d done to them before, I didn’t feel safe. What was the point of having a massive castle if you couldn’t defend it? Your wealth just made you a sitting duck. A giant target.

“Why would they be here?” I asked.

“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here,” he reassured me.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“No, don’t do that to yourself.” He pulled back just enough. “You’re not crazy.”

And with no one to see, he took my hand, leading me past the foundation room. A part of me actually wanted to see the auction, but my mounting paranoia was stronger. We passed by the bar on the way to his room. It’d been empty for my last visit, but now the caterers were taking full advantage of its liquor storage capacity.

“Let’s see,” his voice drawled as his fingers shifted through the bottles. He didn’t ask before pouring us two cocktails.

“After you,” he said, nodding towards his room. By the time I’d sat down at the foot of his bed, he shut the door behind us with both drinks, and the vodka handle in the crook of his arm.

“Is the foundation for your sister? Jane?”

Harry avoided eye contact as he set the bottle down, pushing his hair back, brows raised.

“Uh, kind of. I never knew her.” He turned to me finally, shrugging with an apathy that had taken years to perfect. “I mean it’s sad, we don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Is it ever a good time?”

He looked at me, giving me the chance to take back what I did. I didn’t.

“She died before I was adopted.”

“Oh.” My stomach dropped. There was so much I didn’t know, but I hadn’t been expecting this. His eyes didn’t hold any sadness, but guilt still pricked my heart. “I’m sorry.”

He looked out the window again, distracted.

“Again, I didn’t know her. It’s sad, but I don’t…” -he tried to find the right words, loosened his tie- “It’s not my grief.”

I nodded; that made sense. It was his parents. The Styles. But the legacy of that pain couldn’t have had zero repercussions on their second child. There was more to the story than he was sharing, but I didn’t press. I walked closer, slowly toying with my drink.

“So you find it hard to miss something you never had,” I clarified.

He took a deep breath. “Cheers.” He raised his glass to me and I mimicked him, cringing at the stiff drink.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Warm.”

He nudged me, growing serious. “You know what I mean.”

How was I feeling? The inner me cleared her throat and yelled from a soap box.

Jealous.

Scared.

Confused.

ANNOYED at how many windows this house had. I looked at Harry’s dark mask, the swirling madness in his emerald, the way the suit fit snug against his toned body… we were very much alone.

Add turned on to my emotional cocktail.

“I’m feeling a lot.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “I’m feeling a lot too.” And it was so quiet. So bizarre to hear him say something even remotely close to feelings that I stood completely still. Was his drink as strong as mine?

Our eyes were locked, but he didn’t turn away. I fought every fiber in my screaming to break the intense spell.

He leaned in closer, tilted his head lower. Our noses brushed.

Panic.

“Are you and Viv…?”

“I’m not up here with her am I.”

Relief.

But I didn’t have the courage to say she’d probably been up here before.

“You know” - he pulled me closer, waists closing in - “I’m going to need a lot of help with that midterm,” he mumbled.

Elation.

An almost laugh that just lasted for a moment, because school seemed so trivial for what was happening in this house. There seemed to be split parts of me - the one I’ve always known and the one with him. Which one was more real to me now? I wasn’t sure if I was the same person that I once was - happy alone, solely immersed in school or netflix nights in. I’d been fine. I’d been safe. Maybe a little bored, but I hadn’t known there was more. With him there was a chaos that burned off his shoulders, that simmered in his eyes, and I drank in the warmth like a person frozen from snow.

His hands squeezed my sides, and my eyes fluttered closed. “How are you feeling now?”

“Good.”

He didn’t say anything more, but our breath was now in sync. It didn’t matter what he couldn’t say. What mattered was him, and the fact that when he looked at me, I felt everything he couldn’t say.

Eyes couldn’t lie. Not like that.

So I lifted my lips, and he went in for the kiss.

It was like I’d been starved of oxygen when his soft lips encompassed my own. Oh God, I’d missed this buzz. I’d missed him.

His hands cradled my face as he backed me up to the edge of the bed, lips never parting. A greedy hand shifted lower and he gripped the curve of backside. I whimpered a little, lips parting to allow his tongue to sneak in as he marked what I was so willing to give. He wasn’t pulling away this time. He wasn’t telling me no.

I sat at the edge of the bed where he’d placed us, and leant back, his body falling atop mine. His delicious weight pinned me down, and he kissed down my neck, nibbling, biting. With a particularly hard suck, I moaned and when I looked down I saw him paused, hooded eyes looking up at me from the sound. His hands travelled down, slowly, from my waist to the ends of my dress. He was heavy but not crushing, deliberate but with respect. He waited for an answer.

I nodded.

He bit his lip in a smirk as he hitched up my dress. One hand clutching the soft skin of my hips, as the other supported him above me, Harry rolled his hips against me.

Oh.

Against the thin fabric of my underwear, I felt him harden between my folds. Gentle kisses were peppered along my chest and I pulled him closer.

“Harry,” I whispered, lifting my hips against his. He groaned into my ear, a playful bite at the lobe.

I shivered the same time his fingers travelled lower against my stomach. He stopped at the band of underwear, my breath catching when he cupped my sex.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

I nodded, hummed, as his hand slowly rubbed against me. I could feel him watch me intently, but mostly I could feel him. Up, down, up... the friction against my bundle of nerves made my lips part. Again, and again, my breathing deepened and soon I was rutting against his hand. The damp patch he created was evident as he took several fingers and ran them against it. He applied pressure at my center and I wanted him to do more.

He kissed my neck and a “please” stumbled out of my mouth. He smiled, letting out a small breath. He kissed my lips as his fingers pulled aside the lace. The cutest gesture of reassurance when there was nothing to reassure.

I’d dreamt about this too many times for me to back out. This time I wouldn’t shy away. I took his bottom lip between mine. Go.

But a glass shattering scream carried up the stairs.

The commotion from downstairs grew louder, and I didn’t need to say anything.

I’d already known.

His hand retracted, and as quickly as it started, he’d rolled off to his side, my comforting weight gone.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. He stood dead still at the edge of the bed but when he heard someone coming up the stairs, he lunged for the dresser, reached for the top drawer -

From outside, “Harry! Harry, are you up here?”

The door flew open.

His arm fell to his side.

Gemma stood at the doorway, slightly out of breath.

“You need to come downstairs. Now.”

I pulled my dress down, but Gemma wasn’t paying attention to me. There was a wild look in her eye only Harry could understand.

He didn’t look back to me as he barrelled past her, she followed suit. I sat at the edge of the bed; alone, dishevelled, disoriented. I was scared to follow.

Everything could change in a moment.

There were footsteps at the door again and I looked up just in time to see Harry striding across the floor to me.

“What are you-”

His lips crashed into mine, and my breath was suspended again. There was an urgency in the kiss that hadn’t been there before. Deep, hard, a hand tangled in my hair when another hitched up my skirt. His fingers swiped at my entrance once and before I could kiss him back he pulled away.

He let out an exasperated breath, and leant his forehead against mine.

“I have to take care of this.”

Unflinching, he drew the fingers that’d just pressed against my center up to his parted lips before swiping them against my own.

He stood tall as he walked away, broad shoulders subtly moving beneath the suit as he drew a key from his pocket and closed the door behind him.

There was no way in hell I was staying here.

I shot up, running to the door - but it was locked. I pounded against it.

“Harry? Harry let me out this isn’t funny!”

I jiggled the handle again. Nothing.

I wanted to scream, debated about screaming as I paced around the room. My eyes went to the top drawer of his dresser. I stopped. He’d reached for something there.

When I pulled it open it was just some old band t-shirts, but my hand hit something in the back. Pushing aside the shirts was a black box.

I quickly undid the clasp.

A black handgun.

I shoved the box to the back as quickly as I’d opened it.

Fuck no.

Frickity fracking fuck no.

He’d been reaching for a gun.

What kind of threats was he used to that he needed a gun?

I took a bobby pin from my hair, and with an expert skill that only growing up with a sibling could teach you, the lock was picked.

It took me at least five minutes, but the door opened. I booked it downstairs, a flounder of red dress heading into a quiet commotion.

I didn't see him when I made it down the stairs. There were too many confused bystanders huddled around their phones and switching social circles, whispering frantically about the scene before them.

I didn’t need to see anything in the crowd. For up on the wall, between collectors’ paintings was a vacant space.

The family portrait was gone.

And in its place was a snake that matched the one I’d seen tattooed on skin, the same snake that had been wrapped around my neck.

part 14

#posted a day after april 13 coiNCIDENCE I THINK NOT #harry styles #frat boy #Harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #fratboy!harry #one direction #onedirection #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #fratboy! harry #1direction #one direction imagine #one direction one shot #harry styles preference #harry styles blurb #harry fic

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bodytoflame-ao3 · 5 years

Text

falling from the start

did i write more wlw percabeth? you bet your ass i did!!!!!! i accidentally deleted the ask but for the anon who asked for fem!percy asking her mom for advice here it is :^) this takes place in the summer between botl and tlo. i absolutely want to write more in this same universe please give me more prompts omfg im begging this is so fun

Ao3 Link

“So how's Annabeth?”

Percy pushes the last few peas around her plate absentmindedly, “I don't know.” She doesn't, and she hates it. Ever since the end of summer, things had been so… weird. She didn't know what Annabeth's deal was. First off, for whatever reason, she hated Rachel. Percy didn't get it. Rachel was kind, and funny, and caring, and a really good friend to Percy (even if she was a mortal and didn’t understand some of the nuances of being a half-blood). It made her wonder what Rachel could've possibly done to upset her.

In any case, she didn’t know what she did to upset Annabeth either. Which brings her mind to the one thing she's been trying to push away since it happened: Annabeth kissing her. Because, right, Annabeth kissed her. It threatens to turn Percy's brain to mush every time she thinks about it. She daydreamed about kissing her, probably more than she should, so she should be crazy about it actually happening, but something in her gut just feels… wrong. For lack of a better description, Annabeth kissing her confuses the hell out of her. She loved Luke. She said so herself. She obviously didn't like Percy like that, so then why did she kiss her?

“I thought you were going to try to talk every weekend.”

Percy shrugs. That’s right. #2 on the list of weird things. They were. Annabeth wanted to know everything about her mom's wedding. But it’s been three weeks and she hasn’t made a single attempt to contact Percy; she’d worry she was in trouble if she didn’t know any better.

“Did you two get in a fight?”

“I don't know!” The fork clatters against the plate. She can’t stop her thoughts from spiraling out of control, and she hates herself for it.

“Percy,” her mom sits down next to her at the table and places a reassuring hand on her back.

“I don't know… I mean, there was the whole thing with the Labyrinth, and when I came back she just… she was so annoyed at me. Which, I mean, yeah that makes sense, it's totally like her to be annoyed that she thought I was dead, because that's exactly what she told me not to do, and since when do I ever listen to her?” She can't stop the flood of thoughts from coming out of her mouth. “I thought she would get over it, and she'd just tease me about it for a week like always and then everything would be fine, but then she was really mean to Rachel, even though she was just trying to help! She's never done anything to her, and I… I don't want my friends to fight. We're supposed to be fighting monsters, not each other.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“No but… she would’ve called if she wanted to talk to me.”

“I don’t know about that. You picked a stubborn one.”

Her mom decides movie night is the best way to mitigate her worries. Percy’s always loved The Little Mermaid (Sally’s always thought that was hilarious). Yeah, it’s ironic. You don’t need to tell her that twice, she’s been teased enough by her mom. To be perfectly fair, she always thought Ariel was stupid for leaving the ocean, because duh, it’s awesome, but she loved the music, and that was enough to make a toddler obsessed with something. By the time she realized how ridiculous it was for it to be the daughter of Poseidon’s favorite movie, it was already too big a part of her.

Usually, it’s easy for her to sit down and lose herself in it. She knows every scene almost word for word, and she loves every second of it, so there isn’t anywhere her mind wants to wander to. Nothing to analyze, nothing to be confused over. Tonight, however, she can’t concentrate. That is to say, even worse than usual. Her brain feels like the static of dead air on a TV. Fuzzy. Tingling? Buzzing. Just… stuck. As much as she wants to just lay down and have a normal, quiet movie night with her mom she doubts it’ll actually happen, because the only thing on her mind is Annabeth. She thinks about way she smirks when she has an idea, how her grey eyes shine against the moonlight, and the slight change in the cadence in her voice when she’s teasing Percy.

“Mom?” Percy needs to tell someone or she’s going to explode. Possibly literally. “I think I'm in love with Annabeth.”

“Mhm?”

Really? Percy glares at her, pouting. She’s not surprised, because she’s convinced her mom can practically read her mind, and she's teased her about it to no end.

“Do you want me to act like I didn't know?” She wonders if it would be easier that way. Sally furrows her eyebrows and sighs, “Percy…”

Percy almost whispers her response: “No… I want you to tell me everything’s gonna work out.” But it’s not. It won’t. “I want you to tell me she’s not going to hate me and I’m not going to lose one of the most important people in my life!” As her frustration builds, so does her voice, reaching a crescendo as her final words echo off the walls of the apartment.

“Come here,” she pats the couch cushion, and Percy drags herself off the chair to sit next to her. “I know it’s not easy.”

Percy’s not sure she knows what easy is.

“I had a crush on one of my best friends once.”

“It’s not the same! She’s—”

“A girl?” Sally offers quietly. Percy didn’t make it a habit to talk about these kinds of things, despite how close she was with her mom. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a bit at first; it’s not like the idea of liking girls was something she came to terms with easily. But it had been a whole hell of a lot easier than grappling with the fact that she liked Annabeth.

“No… I mean yes, but… I mean… she’s Annabeth.” She’s my best friend, and she’s smart, and wise, and tough, and she’s beautiful without even trying, and she doesn’t even know it, but her hair shines in the sun like it’s dusted with gold, and her eyes could stare into the depths of your soul and you’d ask her to do it again.

It happened slowly. Sure, her first thought when she woke up at Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth’s curls hanging down into her face, was, infact, ‘wow, she’s pretty.’ (She’s still not sure if that was the concussion talking or not, she digresses), but she was twelve, and wasn't thinking about things like that, not really. Soon, 'wow, she's pretty' turned into 'wow, she's tough' and 'maybe she can help me find my mom', and then they were a team, the three of them. By the time she realized she may have a teensy tiny crush on her, they were already bantering like old friends; and Annabeth was a clingy friend, so while Percy's heart would beat a little faster when she'd grab her hand, she knew Annabeth wouldn't fuss over something so simple. She finally had a friend, a girl (because there were just some things Grover didn’t need, or want to know) who she could talk to and share her secrets with (well, not all of them), and she wasn't about to ruin that by saying something stupid and fleeting.

Percy thought it would pass, after all it was just a stupid crush. She'd get over it. That's what always happened. But this time it didn't, and it just got worse. Now there was something different in the way her breath hitched when Annabeth would lean close to her; a change in the sense that her heart now fluttered when she called her Seaweed Brain.

She hated that her brain was betraying her like this. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her best friend. She was supposed to save the world, not complicate it with her messy relationship drama — not that you could even call it that.

“Oh, honey,” Sally wraps her arms around Percy, pulling her close, “She cares about you. And I know you care about her.”

“But what if she hates me?”

“Do you really think she could?”

She was right. She always was.

“She’ll come around. Give her some time. And give her a call — I’m sure she misses you.”

#percabeth #prompt fill #fic #~1k words #anon #annabeth chase #pjo #fem!percy jackson #fem!percy #wlw percabeth #made

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bifacialler · 5 years

Text

creativenicocorner replied to your post “Yesterday I tried to draw “The Knife” meme comic, but with Strickler,...”

There's a The Knife meme comic?? omg! OOF the idea of Strickler being Toby's to go weird guy is so /adorable/ to me! In the show there's hints that Toby was trying to learn magician tricks (like his gentleman's top hat that Aargh eats) How adorable would it be to have Strickler and Toby just sitting around and Strickler's showing Toby some slight of hand tricks, and talking about how rad Houdini was

...You know what, I raise you one. Let me crack my fingers.

It starts with Tobias - because very many things in Walter’s life now include Tobias - who stands in his doorway with a determined look, while Walter himself has one arm full of a sleeping toddler, another with a self-help infant related books and a lot of confusion, no hands required.

“What do you know about strange dudes with glowing eyes?” says his neighbour and Walter simply doesn’t know what to say to that.

So instead his eyes glow a bit brighter. His wings twitch.

“Are you serious right now, Mr Domzalski?”

“Not your kind of dudes with glowing eyes,” the child waves his plump hand. “The other kind.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

The boy looks around. “...if you let me in?”

And thus Tobias Dolzalski invades Walter Strickler’s Barbara’s their home.

When Walter rips himself away from the book it’s 30 minutes later, and is accompanied with a slight panic that it has been that long and he forgot about tiny human people who have a potential of bumping into corners and falling down and hurting themselves with every single thing they could find.

“Got anything?” his guest calls from somewhere in the living room.

“Yes, I-” starts the changeling, and then pauses, greeted with a view of Tobias, propped in front of the TV on the carpet, his back pressed against the coffee table, Walter Jr (name pending) sleeping on his lap, Otto’s head propped against his knee, and Nomura, as energetic as ever, wobbling to his side to present another “drawing”, and greeted with an excited “wow, this is amazing, you are so talented, I might take this home and put this on my own fridge”.

So instead, Walter Strickler says: “Do you babysit?”

Toby’s head turns and beady eyes narrow.

“Depends on how much you are paying.”

“I might be the owner of the biggest library of the the supernatural and troll lore in this State, Tobias. Consider your next words carefully.”

Domzalski considers. Nomura draws on his face.

“Throw in a burrito and we have a deal.”

The next one is Ms Scott and her wishes are far easier for Walter to work with.

“Toby says that you are bored and need babysitters, and I need a decent history teacher because the new guy sucks.”

Walter doesn’t know the new guy, but he is definitely far from being bored. In fact, boredom would be a welcome change. Or an excursion into high school history, for that matter.

“What makes you think you are qualified, Ms Scott.”

“Toby and I were the only ones not to murder our flour baby within week last year. Also you have-” she leans in and Stricklander, all six feet of stone and wings of him, stumble back. “-apple sauce on your face. You need all the help you can get.”

That he can’t argue with.

He also doesn’t understand what is with his students and burritos.

After that they just... appear.

Mary Wang and her math, for some reason.

Palchuk with Spanish and extra special girl problems (”because like Doc Lake is super fine and asking Coach would be embarrassing”).

Eli and his strange fascination with everything supernatural.

Shannon who just wants to help (it’s concerning, and Walter considers calling her parents, but then remembers that he is not, NOT, their homeroom teacher anymore and there might be questions).

Some new children Strickler has never met before, brother and sister, apparently, who come because “everyone is doing this” and they ask him what babysitting is and why would you sit on the baby, but are saved by Tobias and his bag of tricks, which turns his living room into a impromtu amature magic show (where Walter even shows a few things he picked up along the way, even if made difficult with a lack of sleeves).

“Tiny humans funny,” says Aaargh, a pile of very hard rocks in the hallway, all three of Strickler’s adopted children climbing all over him.

“Don’t you have-” Walter stars, and almost has a heart attack (can he have them? in his troll form?) when Otto slips, but is deftly caught by a hand the size of Otto himself. “-patrolling to do? Is that what you two do now?”

“Have time,” replies the fearsome general of Gunmar’s legion, and delicately trots like a megalithic pony from one entrance to another, in a choir of excited shrieking.

“Why is there a group of teenagers in the living room playing Uno?”

Barbara’s long fingers wrap around the mug, and she breathes away the rising steam.

“Babysitting,” Walter shrugs, and checks on the batch of burritos, slowly getting ready in the over.

“All of them?”

“Well, Tobias is definitely babysitting, not sure about the others.”

Barbara’s eyes search sharply into the congregation, finding all three infants tucked in amongst larger children.

[”Wow, Palchuk, No-No plays UNO better than you do. High five, sister. ...okay, ewww, now someone pass me a tissue.”]

“They miss Jim,” she mutters. Her eyes fill with something soft and quiet, and Walter’s wing, unconsciously, unfurls over her shoulders. His bony hand covers hers.

They stand, silently, in the kitchen light, until someone shouts “UNO” and the rest emit a combined groan.

Barbara rests her head against his chest.

“We need to rework out budget around all these burritos.”

#creativenicocorner #trollhunters #walter strickler #i wrote this shit #i've not written anything in 800 years #this is so rusty

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whatdoyouthinkmyjobis · 6 years

Text

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

TW: Discussions of rape and miscarriage. Major feels. Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials.

Chapter 39: The Walls Came Tumbling Down

Spike bit his fingernail down to the bed, spilling blood on his lips. He spit on the floor, repulsed by the memories.

Buffy had been missing for three hours. He’d tried to follow her immediately after she disappeared, but couldn’t get any further than singeing his shoes. The portal was Slayers only. To pass the time, he read the spell book Buffy had given him. It explained that “finding the path” wasn’t a vision quest, but a portal. The gibberish started to weave together a coherent story, though still not one that made sense. The Witch, it explained, had ousted the King, who by all accounts was a philandering, temperamental murderer. The Witch had help from the Huntress. Later the Huntress was struck with remorse for the King -- her father -- and tried to bring him home. For this act of betrayal, the Witch put the Huntress to sleep and locked her away.

“Fairy tales,” Spike snorted. But then, the shadow casters were only supposed to work for the Huntress, and they had worked for Buffy. If disappearing for hours counted as working. For all Spike knew she was being tortured, punished for the crossing the yellow tape. He started chewing the nails on his other hand and considered getting Dean.

There was a pop like air rushing into a vacuum. The writhing men comprising the shadow figures flew apart, leaving a soaked Buffy on the ground in their place. Spike gathered her into his lap, her wet hair and clothes seeping through his shirt and jeans. “Hey! Hey, Goldilocks. Did you find anythin’ you liked at the Bears’ house?”

Her eyes flew open and she punched him in the nose. Bone crunched and blood spewed from his face. Then she kicked him in the head. Everything went black.

After throwing Buffy out, Dawn and Willow had clutched each other and cried, using phrases like tough love and the right thing, though neither of them felt convinced. Now that it was morning, Dawn’s head still pounded, her empty eye socket raged.

She wanted to set the world on fire. She wanted to cry. She wanted her sister back.

Dawn stood at the top of the stairs listening. She listened to the Impala’s purr as Sam and Dean left at daybreak to look for bodies in the rubble of the winery. To Andrew worrying about Spike not coming in last night. To Xander and Anya arriving with more food and medical supplies. To the Potentials padding up and down the stairs to use the bathroom, and when they tried to talk to her, she pretended not to hear.

She couldn’t see them on that side of her anyway.

Downstairs, Dawn could hear the Potentials debating the veracity of what Dean had told them. The Potentials had insisted on knowing what was going on. (She couldn’t blame them for that; though she blamed them for everything else.) After watching Buffy ousted from her own home, Dean delivered a no-holds-barred, fire-in-the-belly speech including everything from angels trying to force God to return to what the demons did to Sam.

It seemed they were stuck on the part about alternate dimensions. Some believed in them. Some didn’t, despite Anya having explained about hell dimensions in her introduction to demons lecture. However, she had also told them demons were poor, misunderstood creatures.

Downstairs, a girl asked, “D-do you think Lucifer brought any h-hellhounds with him?”

Dawn closed her one good eye, rested her head against the wall, and let the voices of the girls downstairs mix into an unintelligible buzz. After a while, she sensed someone was sitting on the step by her. Peeking through her lashes, Dawn saw Wook staring into space.

“Did you tell her?” Dawn asked. “Did you ever tell Sophia how you felt?”

For a split second, horror took over Wook’s face. Then she shook her head. “Sophia...she was not like me.”

The crush had seemed obvious to Dawn and several other people. “You should talk to Willow. You could probably use a good cry and --” Dawn pointed at the bandage over her missing eye “-- I’m only up for half a cry right now. I hope it helps.”

Dawn slowly walked downstairs. As the Potentials noticed her, a wave of silence fell over the room. She curled up in a chair by the window, fixing her one good eye outside. When it was clear she didn't want to speak to them, the girls resumed their whispers.

“Maybe the angels?” asked Steph. “If they brought the Winchesters here, maybe they’ll come help us?”

Dark circles around her puffy eyes, Maya curled her lip in disgust. “Are you joking? They sound bloody terrifying, like cosmic toddlers throwing a fit for daddy.”

“The angels aren't coming to save us,” said Dani. “God is out of the game. No one is coming, but maybe we can move home field.”

“Move the fight off the Hellmouth?” asked Karen.

“Bigger,” said Dani. “Lucifer is only here because he followed the Winchesters, so let's move the Winchesters back where they belong.”

Dawn stifled a snicker. She couldn’t imagine any of these girls making the Winchesters do anything. When Dean returned, she’d share Dani’s plan.

“You have a magic portal in your pocket?” Betje asked, rolling her eyes.

“Well, no, but --”

Keisha held up her hand to stop Dani from continuing. “I can't even begin to tell you how upset I am about what Dean said. I'm a life-long church girl, and this is not my Heavenly Host. However, I am not about to sell out Sam for my own safety.”

Kate squeezed into the circle. “It's not about you or Sam; it's about saving everyone.”

“I think the people in their world would disagree with you,” Karen countered. “A Slayer’s duty is to save people, not pick and choose lives.”

Dani threw her pillow across the room and released a frustrated growl. “We’re out of options! Either everyone dies or half the people die.”

“It’s not like they’re real, not like us,” Kate added.

“Then we go down fighting!” said Keisha, matching Dani’s volume. “Maybe Buffy was right yesterday? Maybe we just have to attack as much as we can?”

The room disintegrated into bickering about Buffy’s leadership, the realness of unmet people, and the blame the Winchesters bore. Again, a hush fell over them. Someone hovered by her.

“Hmm, Dawn, you’re missing something.” Xander’s hands were shoved in his pockets as he casually inspected Dawn’s new face. “Rumor is, pirating requires a beard. Or a parrot. Both would be better, but you have to have at least one.”

Despite herself, Dawn felt a small smile trip across her lips.

“Good news though! No beard means it’s easier to eat this.” He handed her a candy bar, one of the good ones with chocolate and peanut butter.

It was ridiculous and exactly what she needed. She unwrapped it slowly. “Willow tells me I can get a glass eye. I could get something that totally matches my other one, and then, like, pop it out on Halloween to scare kids.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Not that we’ll see another Halloween with this bozo army.”

“And the spirit is gone.”

Dawn took a large bite and glanced out the window. “Shut up! Buffy’s outside.”

Xander and Willow’s hearts were heavy but happy as they crossed the street to talk with Buffy.

Buffy stood staring at the neighbor’s lilac bush as if she could set it on fire with her mind. She plucked a heavy bloom. “They love me. They love me not,” she said as she pulled the petals off.

“Buff, that’s not fair,” Xander blurted. Not the foot he’d wanted to start on. He was still uncertain if he hadn’t spoken up in her defense out of cowardice or agreement. The bruise on his cheek felt like the latter.

“We love you!” said Willow, reaching out to rub Buffy’s arm. “We just think you need a break. All the stress is affecting your judgement.”

“My judges are the guy who left his fiance at the altar and the woman who tried to burn the world? Both less than a year ago. What do you know about stress?” Buffy asked as she crushed the flower in her fist.

“A hell of a lot,” said Willow in a low voice.

“You’re not the characters I came to Disneyland for. Where’s Dean?”

“He and Sam went to deal with the bodies at the winery.”

“Then you two can Hi-Ho your butts back in the house, and I’ll wait here,” she said with coldness in her eyes.

“I know you’re mad and all, but come in for some --”

“I’m not here for you,” their friend snapped. Her eye twitched. “Not yet. Now go back inside or I’ll give you more than a bruise.”

To Dean’s surprise, other than missing doors and a blackened entrance, the winery was still standing. “Two cans of gas and a building full of alcohol.”

“Wine doesn’t have a high enough alcohol content to burn, so it probably put the fire out,” Sam explained.

“Wow, even the things you know about booze are nerdy.” Although, Buffy would be relieved to know his anger-move hadn’t been any more effective than her plan.

“We going in?”

The dark maw of the building stared him down. Less than a day before, that place had claimed five of them and incapacitated even more. A chill ran down Dean’s spine. “Can’t afford it. Let’s go.”

On the way back to the Impala, his phone rang. Xander wanted to warn him that an angry Buffy was waiting for him at the house. Angry. Crying. Dean didn’t care. He needed to see her.

Haloed by the purple flowers in the neighbor’s yard, Buffy looked stunning. Her hair was in loose, natural waves, and her face bare of makeup. It was her soft-with-sleep, content-in-his-arms beauty, though he doubted she wanted to be held.

When he gently called to her, her icy resolve melted away. “Dean!” A smile blossomed on her lips as she breathed out his name. "We need to talk.”

“Buffy, I'm so, so sorry for the shit I said.” He took her small hands in his; it was the first time he’d touched her in what felt like forever. Exhibiting no hesitation, she lightly squeezed his fingers. He’d never been so thrilled to hold a woman’s hand. “I hope you believe me when I say I didn't want any of this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She nodded, the light catching on the fan of her lashes. “It’s hard for people to see a bigger plan in the moment.” Looking up at him with curious eyes, she said, “Speaking of, do you have a plan for Lucifer?”

“It was a bitch of a night, sweetheart. Treading water as fast as we can, but look around you.” Every house on the block was empty. “The tide’s comin’ in.”

“Do we head for the hills with the girls?”

“Of course not. We’re the line between him and the rest of your world. We gotta hold it so the world doesn’t go all I Am Legend.”

Worry swelled in Buffy’s eyes. She opened her mouth several times, but said nothing. Finally, she swallowed and said, “What about Michael?”

“Michael? I don’t think that douche even knows we’re here.”

The worry washed away. She gazed into his eyes and appeared surprisingly happy for knowing it was the end of the world. “It’s like a burn one, get-one-free special.” She laid her head on his chest, her arms encircling his waist. Dean embraced her, content that if they were going to die at least they would die together.

She shifted, and he started to let her go. “No,” she said, “keep holding me, baby.”

A shout down their deserted block drew his attention. Blood streaming down his face, Spike ran at them yelling something. Confused, Dean looked down into Buffy’s black eyes.

He fell back in terror, numbness taking over his body. Everything seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. His brain screamed, No! No! No!

“Hey baby, surprised to see me?” the demon inside her cooed. She grabbed him by the arms and tossed him into a flower bed.

Spike jumped her, but she threw him over her shoulders.

“I thought I killed you.” Buffy pulled a knife from her boot. Spike blocked the blow to his chest, leaving a gash on his forearm.

Dean pulled her off, causing her to whirl back on him and slash his cheek. “Gonna cut your pretty face --”

Then she stopped. Stopped talking. Stopped moving. The black in her eyes swirled wildly. Buffy trembled, then collapsed in a heap. Behind her, Spike stood holding a bloody rock.

Buffy didn’t know where she was. It was so dark, she couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed. She tried to feel for a wall, a door, a light, but she couldn’t move her arms. It was like fighting off a deep sleep.

She wasn’t alone. Someone -- some thing -- was laughing. It sounded like broken glass, like a punch knocking teeth loose, like being lost and alone; yet somehow Buffy knew it was a laugh.

I like it in here, said a voice that was a cross between a bark and a hiss. So many toys.

Suddenly, Buffy was in bed. Angel’s hands slid from her breasts to her thighs as he kissed her neck with tantalizing slowness.

That laugh.

Buffy was at her high school. She was holding a gun. Angel stood before her, pleading. Shaking, she pulled the trigger.

That laugh again, like cold water running down her spine.

Now Buffy was struggling on the bathroom floor, tired and terrified, trying to push Spike off of her.

Fuck, this is fun.

Then Buffy could see. She could see Dean standing in front of her, saying something she couldn’t hear. Buffy tried to say something, anything -- he was right there -- but no words came out. Then he was holding her. It was bliss and torture all wrapped together.

The voice practically sang, Gonna kill your boyfriend. Gonna make you watch. Gonna snap his neck. Oh yes! Oh yes!

Whatever this thing was, Buffy wasn’t going to let it win. She managed to loosen her grip on Dean, but she heard her voice ask him to stay. For a brief second, she felt the thing look away, distracted by something Buffy couldn’t see. She seized the moment, and threw Dean away from her.

Blackness and laughter. A flash of Spike and blood. Buffy tried to move, tried to scream, but she could see her own arms lashing out with a knife. Now Dean was in front of her, blood on his cheek. Buffy focused on his eyes, those deep green eyes. She pulled up all the love inside of her, everything she had done and hope to do with this man, and shoved it to the front of her mind.

The laugh was cut short. Buffy’s body was holding still.

Then everything went black.

This was a nightmare. If Dean opened his eyes, he would see Buffy sound asleep with little pillow creases on her face. Instead, Spike, his face a sickly shade of purple, sat sprawled on a chair while Anya sewed up his arm. The mysterious book Spike had brought consumed Giles, who looked like he’d aged ten years.

The kitchen was packed with everyone who cared about Buffy. And the guilty, Dean thought, bitterly surveying their downcast faces.

“How’s Dawn?” Xander asked Willow when she returned to the kitchen.

“Sleeping.”

“You put her under?”

“I hate to use the word hysterical -- because sexist, but it applies. She was hysterical and crying, which isn’t helping her heal. She kept saying this wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t kicked Buffy out.”

The Potentials averted their eyes.

“She’s not wrong,” Dean grumbled under his breath.

Keisha started to apologize, “If I knew this could happen--”

“No,” said Betje, shaking her head. “What’s done is done. We have to fix this demon problem.”

Karen took a bloody towel from Spike and handed him a fresh one for his split lip and broken nose. With the power off, they had nothing cold for the swelling. “Recap for the new girl? My head was spinning too much to get all of that.��

“Kind of ‘urts to talk,” moaned Spike.

Anya sighed. “Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Kicked out of the house with her tail between her legs, Buffy thought she’d do a vision quest to learn more Slayer tricks. Only the vision was more of a touch-and-feel experience. Poof! Gone. Poof! Back with bonus gross demon parasite.”

“You’re grossed out?” huffed Willow.

Anya finished bandaging Spike’s arm and repacked the first aid kit. “Demons may maim and kill and sew chaos, but there are lines. Very few demons possess, and they’re social outcasts. This goes off the map into unknown heebee jeebee territory.”

“Okay, Robin, that was very helpful,” Sam said as he came in the back door and hung up his phone. “Unhelpful asshole. He doesn’t know anything.”

Sam handed Willow a small necklace. “You too, Giles,” he said.

“No anti-possession charms for the rest of us?” Xander asked.

Sam handed another to Spike. “The rest of you aren’t vessels. You can’t be possessed. Just witches, slayers and vampires.”

“And Potential Slayers,” Willow added as she slipped on the necklace. “But that got explody last time.”

After securing unconscious demon Buffy in a devil’s trap in the basement, they had moved most of the Potentials to the neighboring house for safety. Some were too injured to move. A few, wracked with guilt, refused to leave.

His nose buried once more in his book, Giles muttered to himself, “Where did Bernard find this? These were lost. They’re all dead.”

“Giles, mutter reassuring things or don’t mutter at all,” Anya snapped.

Giles snapped his head up, seemingly surprised the conversation had moved on without him. “In any other circumstance, holding this book would be a rare treat. Scholars thought they were lost when the Order of the Oracle was wiped out.”

“Order of the Oracle?” Sam said. “I have one of their books. I found it online.”

Giles glared at Sam over his glasses. “Could I see this book?”

“Yeah, it’s in the car.”

“It’s in your bloody--!” Giles took a deep breath and muttered into his book, “Let’s just keep rare texts in our cars next to our mixtapes. Heaven forbid we use bookshelves like civilized people.”

“We do an exorcism, right?” asked Karen. “Some pea soup, head spinning, and Buffy’s back?”

“No,” said Dean, tired of listening to them.

“No? It was good enough for me,” said Spike.

“That demon was making you a vampire. That’s the gig here. This one, I don’t know where Buffy found it, but it’s from our side of the tracks. I think it knows me. We need to find out how it got here and if more are coming.”

“If there are?” asked Xander.

Dean didn’t want to tell him it dropped their chances from zero to zilch.

Karen’s eyes darted from person to person in spinning confusion. “Can we go back to Spike being a vampire -- because what?”

The basement door burst open and Andrew collapsed on the ground wheezing. “Buff-- She-- It? Waking is happening.” Anya and Giles followed the Winchesters while everyone else hid their faces.

In the basement, Dani was standing dangerously close to the outer line of the demon trap inspecting Buffy, black eyes fluttering, with the curiosity of children taunting a lion at the zoo. “Doesn’t look so bad. She couldn’t be worse than a Serparvo or a Haxil Beast.”

Laying on her side, Buffy opened her eyes.

“Dani, step back!” barked Sam.

“Help me! I’m afraid!” whimpered the demon.

Dani leaned across the circle, her face close to Buffy’s. Before Dean got to the bottom of the stairs, the creature jerked toward the Potential and bit into her cheek. Dani reeled back screaming. Buffy smiled, a chunk of skin hanging from her teeth.

“No!” shouted Anya her finger wagging at the bloody-faced creature. “Bad demon! Naughty! You’re the kind of demon that gives demons a bad name. What kind of demon are you anyway?”

“The real kind.”

Anya looked at the Winchesters with fear and confusion as she lead Dani upstairs.

The demon spit the piece of cheek on the ground. For a brief moment, the edge melted from her glare as Buffy coughed and spit blood from her mouth. Then she grinned an awful, red grin. “Sam and Dean. I missed you boys! Haven’t seen you since I sicced my puppies on your last girlfriend.”

“Meg,” growled Sam.

“In the flesh -- or rather your girl’s flesh, huh, Dean?” A satisfied chuckle bubbled from her throat as Dean bit his tongue to keep from reacting. “I think of all the bodies I’ve possessed, this one is my favorite. No offense, Sammy.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” said Dean.

“Too late. I love exploring her nooks and crannies. All of her dark places. The secrets in here!” Meg shimmied with excitement. “For instance, Giles,” she said, directing her attention to librarian on the stairs, “do you remember telling her you would always support her? It’s one of those memories a girl with daddy issues goes back to when she's having a down day.”

“I remember,” whispered Giles, his eyebrows furrowed with agony as he beheld his only child strung up like a puppet.

“Until she fucks up, of course. Then she’s out on the street.” She still smiled her bloody smile, but her eyes were pleading.

Giles glared at her with steely resolve. “The consequences for my actions have been dire, and I won’t leave her now.”

“Enough!” Dean snapped. “How’d you get here, Meg?”

“Hard work and clean living?”

He crouched by the edge of the demon trap, so he could look into Meg’s black eyes. “You think I don’t know how to get information out of you?”

“I know for a fact you couldn’t hurt your Girly any more than you’d hurt your Sammy. She’s barely spoken to you for weeks, and you’re still jumping through hoops like a trained bitch to get her to notice you. You got it bad, Dean, and she’s ready to run away screaming.” Buffy slammed her body against the floor. Once. Twice. Three times. She rose to her knees slowly, awkwardly, Buffy’s long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and neck, a wry smile on her red lips.

“You know what pushed her away? It wasn't the Apocalypse or the Potentials or anything else you’ve blamed.” Her smile disappeared. Her mouth clamped shut. A twitch washed over her muscles like a personal earthquake. The smile returned. “It wasn’t any of that. It was the baby.”

The more Buffy focused, the more she could move. She beat her fists against the darkness and screamed, screamed to get out. She shut out the taunts, the memories, and focused. I’m near my house. Dean is here. Spike is here.

She tasted blood. Cold crept into her bones. Dean’s voice, far off and muffled, snapped the silence. Dean is here.

The laugh again.

Buffy threw herself against the blackness once more and felt a hard smack. The air rushed from her lungs. Pain was good. Pain was present.

Then she could see her basement. She was in the demon trap they’d painted for Spike. Dean and Sam stood outside of the circle; Giles on the stairs. Dean’s jaw twitched with rage.

Suddenly, there was a white hot stab in her gut. Buffy screamed in agony.

Oh yes, let’s share that, the voice growled.

Buffy tried to put her hands over her mouth, to bite her tongue. To keep it in. Still the word erupted into the air, plump and sad.

Baby.

Dean clenched his jaw. The ploy was low even for Meg. “You're lying.”

“Why? Because she would have told you?” she said in a mocking whine.

“Because you’re a sack-a-shit demon.”

“And this sack of shit is wearing your girlfriend. I have access to memories and thoughts you couldn’t imagine. She may let you rut around in this body, but it's not yours.” Quickly, Buffy slammed her body back into the wall with a gasp.

Then a laugh. “She never forgot your dream of starting a family together, Dean. Buffy battles monsters for a living, but the mere idea of spawning your green-eyed ankle-biters made her want to vomit. Then she got two little lines on the test.

“I know what you’re thinking. Wracking your brain counting back the days since she let you fuck her. Wondering if you always used a condom. Blaming her for messing up her pills,” Meg twisted Buffy’s lips into a smirk. “What’s funny is that you two morons with your supercharged bodies thought the conventional would be enough.”

Dean wasn’t thinking any of that. Instead, a cold grief crept into his bones that Buffy had carried the burden alone. Another person he loved was too scared to tell him the truth. He shook his head and whispered, “You can shut up.”

“Or what? You’ll make me?” She grinned from ear to ear, her tongue caught between her teeth. “Already called that bluff, dickwad. Besides, if you want the truth, you can ask Giles.”

Giles’ eyes flitted between Dean and the demon. The unasked question seemed to press him smaller. “Awhile ago, Buffy wanted to come when I drove to Los Angeles to pick up two Potentials at the airport. I thought it was odd, but I was happy for the company. She was distant, quiet. We had a strained conversation. As soon as we arrived in LA, she got a ride into town, leaving us at the airport for a couple hours. She never said what she was doing. I...I had assumed she went to see Angel.”

“Is she pregnant?” Dean whispered, trying to keep the shattered feeling from his voice.

Meg laughed, made all the crueler in Buffy’s voice. “Not now, baby daddy. I took care of that before I came. Bad enough I have all the memories of fucking you; didn’t want any part of you sharing my meatsuit too. Took a lot of poking around in there. In fact, I made sure that if you exorcise me, she’s going to bleed out.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled. Sam whispered in his ear, “Go upstairs, and let me handle this.”

The holy water and salt Buffy could handle, but that wouldn’t break Meg. Ruby’s knife tucked into Sam’s belt worried him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re white as a sheet,” said Sam, concerned.

Upstairs, people started to scream.

“You pretty much had to chain me to fight me,” Buffy shouted into the blackness.

This isn’t fighting, Firework. This is subjugation. Humans belong under a boot.

“You forgot something.” Buffy smiled, confident she could end this. “I’m the Slayer.”

The laugh. I don’t care if you’re the Pope. You’re still my puppet until I break you and toss you.

Buffy closed her eyes. It wasn’t just her and this thing trapped in here. Buffy was full of memories and love, of joys and comforts this monster couldn’t imagine. She dug down deep. She filled her mind with bright memories of her sister and mother. Of Dean’s tender kisses. Of her friends fighting by her side. She dug down into the parts of her that were warm and soft, the instinctive, protective parts.

That’s where Buffy found her.

At the first scream, Giles bolted upstairs. Sam took the stairs in twos.

Dean wasn’t sure if it was a trick -- another demon, maybe Caleb -- but he knew that he had to stay. He had to get Meg out of Buffy if they were going to win.

In the demon trap, Meg looked at the ceiling in wide-eyed horror. Buffy’s began to glow as if she’d swallowed a small sun. She fell to the ground, shaking and flailing. Then the room flared white.

Through the spots in his eyes, Dean could see a black cloud swirling above Buffy’s body. He pulled her free from the demon trap and held her in his arms. Small beads of sweat formed on her pale skin. Her eye fluttered for a moment before settling on him. “Dean.” Her voice was weak and fading.

It sounded like goodbye.

Willow’s sleep spell hadn’t worked as long as she’d hoped. She sat on the living room floor with Dawn sobbing into her shoulder.

Xander rubbed Dawn’s back. He’d known her since she was nine -- plucky, needy and already showing signs of teenage resentment. “Dean once told me a friend of theirs was possessed but managed to overpower the demon. Buffy’s gotta be stronger than that guy. You’ll see.”

“It’s my fault,” Dawn repeated. “We’re made for each other, and I pushed her out.”

“Maybe we should take her over to the neighbor’s with the rest of the girls,” Anya suggested.

Dawn sat up and glared at her with her one good eye. “No! I’m staying with my sister. I want to see her!”

The Potentials observed their domestic scene from the dining room, the bandage on Dani’s maimed cheek already red. Heading upstairs, Willow said, “I’m going to get more bandages and painkillers.”

Without warning, Dani was consumed by a blue light. She screamed, but other than lending their voices, everyone flattened themselves against the wall. The blue light floated off of her, toward the living room.

Another blue light appeared, but it quickly faded, leaving a short man with a small pursed mouth and golden eyes.

The first light surrounded Xander and Dawn. It was warm and tingly with occasional jolts of fire running through it. The man tapped the light, and it too became a man, with dark messy hair and piercing blue eyes. He pulled the bandage from Dawn’s eye, revealing a blue eye where there had been an empty socket. Frenzied, Dani yanked the bandage from her healed face.

“Keep doing that and you’re going to blow your vessel, Castiel.”

Castiel turned his head to the side like a dog trying to understand. His eyes darted between Spike and Rachel before choosing the girl. “People are hurt from our war, Gabriel. What else should I do?”

Sam and Giles burst into the room. “You!” Sam shouted, lunging at Gabriel. Gabriel flicked away, reappearing at the other end of the room with lightning arcing from his back.

“Lucy! I’m home!” he said with a grin. “Miss me?”

“Cas, we need your help.”

Gabriel laughed but was unamused. “Surprise, surprise. Heard you screwed things up with my brother. Grab Dean; I’ll take you home.”

“What? No, we have a situation in the basement.”

“I’m sure it’s dire, drama queen, but do you remember the little Apocalypse you left behind? There are still two Horsemen riding around in Satan’s saddle. Get your brother. We have to go.”

“You owe me, you son of a bitch!”

A darkness washed over Gabriel’s face before Castiel clamped his hand on his shoulder. “You promised you’d help. You promised you wouldn’t hurt them. Take me to the basement.”

Sam lead the two men and most of the curious group downstairs, where a black cloud swirled inside the devil’s trap, and Dean, his face wet with tears, cradled Buffy, pale and still in his arms. “Cas?” he said, his voice small and broken.

“Check on the girl. I’ll deal with the demon,” said Gabriel. He plunged his hands into the cloud.

Once more, lightning began to shoot from his back. The Potentials, Anya, and Andrew bolted back upstairs. In a second, the demon was gone.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. He put his hand on Buffy’s head and furrowed his brow. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“What do you --”

“I mean, I could wake her up, but she probably needs the rest. Did she expel the demon on her own?”

Shocked, Dean could only muster a nod.

“Fascinating.”

Buffy wiggled her head like she was fighting an early morning dream. She gazed at Dean through half-open eyes, leaned her head against his chest, and fell back into a dead sleep.

Dean didn’t know or care why angels were in Sunnydale. He didn’t care about what trick Gabriel was there to play. All that mattered was that the woman he loved, the woman who he thought had just died in his arms, was breathing against his neck. The Scoobies and Potentials pressed themselves against the wall as he carried Buffy upstairs.

He laid her on the bathroom floor and drew a bath. Dean felt gutted, his insides shoved back in every which way, sewn up with dental floss. He worried it wouldn't hold, one wrong move and his guts would spill out on the floor.

Dawn burst into the room, Willow right behind her. “She's okay?”

“Good as new. Just tired. I see your pirate career is in shambles.”

Dawn smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled. “Those guys downstairs, they're angels aren't they? Your friend Castiel?”

“Yeah.” While he was thrilled to see Castiel, he knew this wasn't a casual visit. “Willow, you mind?” he asked gesturing at the bath. Buffy needed rest, but he knew she usually liked to clean the blood off first Willow, who seemed unusually pale and skittish, grabbed towels.

He heard a whimper as he started to get up. Buffy was reaching out to him, her voice crackling and raw. “It wasn't true. She lied.”

“I know,” he lied.

Downstairs Sam and Gabriel were already in a tense argument, the rest of house looking on in confusion and fear.

Everyone but Spike. “Come on! Get with the healing! Starting to feel like the only girl at the prom without a corsage.”

Castiel stepped toe-to-toe with Spike, their faces inches apart. “What sort of creature are you?” the angel asked.

“Lately, punching bag.”

“Good to see you, buddy,” said Dean, embracing the angel who believed he was worth saving.

“And how the hell do you think we can kill Death?” Sam shouted.

“I can get you the weapon. I need you to do it,” Gabriel said as Sam towered over him.

“What's going on?” Dean asked.

“This asshole--”

“Have some respect, Sasquatch.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Supreme Asshole wants to take us back home to kill Pestilence and Death, because he's too scared to do it himself.”

“This isn't a matter of fear, boy. Someone is going to have to keep the demons off of you.”

“Pestilence and Death? Why?”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Something about rings and a quest and a cage. It sounds like it should have swords and its own Hans Zimmer score.”

“You have the rings of Famine and War,” Gabriel explained. “Collect all four, you got yourself a door back to the cage.”

“Cage is open. Big freakin’ deal,” said Dean. “Lucifer's not going to walk in there on his own.”

“We are still working on an alternative to Sam's possession,” said Castiel.

“What, you got mine sorted?” said Dean.

The angels exchanged quick glances. “Zachariah found another.”

It was the Winchesters’ turn to look confused. That didn't make any sense. Dean was the result of years of cupid interference, breeding vessel with vessel. He was Michael’s only hope.

“They raised Adam,” Castiel explained. “They promised him that if he said yes, they would bring back his mother.”

“Adam? There's an Adam now?” asked Anya.

“We had a half-brother,” Sam said. “He was killed before we met him.”

“Oh goody. More Winchesters,” she grumbled. “Only good can come of this.”

“Granted, this is not my area of expertise,” Giles began, “but Dean is Michael’s true vessel. Wouldn’t possessing anyone else be playing with a handicap?”

“Ten points to Gryffindor.” Gabriel shrugged. “He couldn't wait on you forever, Dean. Especially when he didn't know where I hid you.”

“You?” asked the brothers in unison.

“Lemme guess, you thought Cas had the juice to get you here? Please. He didn’t even know about this place.”

Someone tapped Dean’s shoulder. It was one of the Potentials, looking not at all eager to meet angels. “Willow sent me. Buffy wants to see you.”

“Come back tomorrow,” he told Gabriel.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to even get here?” the angel asked.

“Been a bitch of a day, Feathers. Come back tomorrow.” Dean raced up the stairs to find the bathroom empty. Wrapped in a towel, Buffy sat on her bed, her wet hair dripping on her sister, who looked like she had no intention of ever letting her go.

Buffy smiled at him softly when he entered the room. “Dean, would you take me home?”

next chapter

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angelschoices · 7 years

Text

Five Years Later

An Endless Summer fanfic.

Pairing: Jake x MC Word count: 1557

It took four years, but Jake McKenzie made his way back to the U.S. with one goal in mind... his Princess. But he never would have thought he’d find her here...

Jake McKenzie couldn’t believe it. After five years, there she was, right in front of him, sitting on a bench in a park in his hometown of Shreveport, Louisiana… his Princess.

He had come back to the States four years after the experience in La Huerta. It had taken him time to figure out how to get back home, settle out all the issues he had lingering from his time as a Navy pilot. He had to pull every connection he had, sweet talk a lot of people, make deals with some unsavory types… but he had finally made it home.

After meeting back up with his family, he focused his energies in trying to find his Princess. He had gone to Hartfeld, only to find out that she wasn’t there anymore. He was surprised to learn that she had left Hartfeld the semester after they returned from La Huerta. There wasn’t any forwarding contact information that the university could give him.

He had tracked down Sean easily enough, his football fame making him easier to find, and he figured that Sean had been pretty close with her as well. Sean had been recruited to a professional football team, and was training with them as their backup quarterback when Jake found him. But Sean just repeated what the school had told Jake, that the semester after they returned, she had left Hartfeld, without a word to anyone from their group. Sean did offer a new nugget of information… that Diego had left with her.

Jake knew that his next best chance lay with Diego. He remembered the night that his Princess had cried in his arms, telling him about her best friend. How much he meant to her. There was no way he wouldn’t know where she was, if they weren’t together.

But Diego proved difficult to locate. Each lead he had turned into a dead end. He searched for months before deciding to return home to Shreveport to regroup.

And there she was. She looked a little different. Her dark hair was longer, reaching past her shoulders now, and her body fuller than the last time he had seen her. But she was still absolutely beautiful in Jake’s eyes.

“Princess?” he asked, astonished. She whipped her head to face him, her brows raised, eyes wide, her mouth a small ‘o.’

There was a moment in which they stared at each other like that, time frozen.

“Top Gun,” she finally said with a shaky smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well this is my hometown,” he smirked lightly. “Fancier finding you here though.” He paused, confused as he saw a hint of anxiety in her dark brown eyes. “Heard you fell off the grid a bit with the old gang.”

She shrugged noncommittally, “Life happens. After everything, I just couldn’t go back to normal college life.” She paused, a longing look in her eyes. “I thought you’d be living it up in Costa Rica.”

“Well, after all that time in La Huerta, I had my fill of beaches and ocean,” Jake said cautiously. “Worked my way back home. Been back Stateside for about a year now.”

“Well welcome home, pilot,” she smiled. And in that instant when she smiled at him, Jake’s emotions hit him full force. The memories not only of their time together in La Huerta, but all his efforts to get back home, to get back to his Princess…

“Now that we’re done with the pleasantries, Princess, I wanted to talk to you about…” Jake was cut off, as a toddler ran towards them.

“Mama, I was on the swings and I went up high, I could fly!”

Jake blinked, the meaning of the child’s words sinking in as he jumped into his Princess’s arms, and she laughed with him.

“Wow, did you now!” she exclaimed, hugging him tight. “My brave little boy!”

“Wow,” Jake said, voice tight, “Handsome kiddo you got there, Princess.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. She turned to the child, “Sweetie, this is my friend. Can you say hi?”

“Hi, mister,” he greeted confidently.

“Hi there,” Jake said.

“You little rascal, you’re so fast!” a familiar face called. Jake turned and wasn’t overly surprised to see Diego running to join them. He slowed, and his smile faltered when he noticed Jake.

“Hey, long time no see,” he greeted warmly. His gaze flickered to her with a concerned expression, and she gave him a small smile in response.

“Yeah, small world,” Jake commented, noting this odd interaction.

“Hey, buddy, let’s go clean up and let Mama catch up with her friend, alright?”

“Okay! Up?” the little boy asked excitedly, and he erupted into giggles as Diego easily lifted the boy onto his shoulders as they walked away.

“So you and Diego huh?” Jake asked casually, trying to mask his emotions, though not succeeding. “So was that all bullshit that you were telling me that night in La Huerta when we left him behind?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused.

“Was I just some fling while we were in La Huerta, something for you and Diego to laugh about, and then forget about once you got back home to your perfect little lives?”

She looked at him with furrowed brows, trying to follow his thought process. After a moment, she began to laugh.

“What the hell, Princess?!” he exclaimed, face red with anger and embarrassment. “I fail to see what’s so funny about you and Pop Culture Petey messing with my feelings,” he seethed. “I thought our time in La Huerta together meant something to you.”

“Oh Top Gun,” she said, wiping away a tear from her eye. “You think… Diego and I?!”

Jake flushed. “Well… isn’t he your kid’s dad?”

“That’s what you think?!” she laughed. She stepped towards him, and his breath hitched, as she raised a hand to his face gently. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Top Gun.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Jake said reflexively.

“Diego can handle the little monster for a little longer, come walk with me,” she said, grabbing his hand in hers.

Jake let her lead him, more confused than when he first saw her sitting on that bench.

“Why did you really leave Costa Rica?” she asked him, getting straight to the point.

Jake wanted to answer sarcastically, but she always had the ability to get him to open up about his feelings, even back in La Huerta.

“Thought I had better things waiting for me back in the States,” he said finally. He glanced at her. He gulped before continuing. “Was I right?”

She looked at him and smiled. “It depends.”

“On what?”

She looked at him silently, before focusing on the path before them again.

“You know, I thought nothing could ever turn my world around the way our time in La Huerta did,” she smiled wryly. “But I never thought I’d be a single mother at twenty-two, just a year shy of graduating college.”

Jake said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“Diego was my rock through the whole ordeal. When it got to be too much, and I decided to leave Hartfeld, Diego decided to come with me without hesitation. He dropped out, and transferred schools to Louisiana State University so he could be with me.”

“Why did you choose to come to Shreveport, Princess?” Jake asked softly, though he had a feeling he knew what she was trying to tell him.

“I was four months pregnant when I left Hartfeld. Diego was the only one I told. I couldn’t face anyone else. I thought about an abortion,” she paused. “But I couldn’t.” Her words echoing in Jake’s mind. “I didn’t have much tying me down anywhere, so I figured I would raise my baby in his father’s home town.”

Jake gulped. “What’s your kid’s name, Princess?”

She smiled, almost a smirk. “Michael Jacob McKenzie. I call him Mikey.”

Jake felt like his world was spinning. His face must have reflected this, as she looked at him with concern, and a tinge of regret.

“Jake, are you okay?”

“I… I have a son?” he finally sputtered out.

“Well, technically we have a son,” she corrected smartly. She bit her lip, noting Jake’s paling face. “But if you don’t want to deal with all the responsibility, I get it…”

“Does he hate me?” Jake asked suddenly. “Or who he thinks I am? Does he even know who I am? Does he think Diego is…”

“Jake,” she interrupted him, taking his face in both her hands. “I love you.”

Tears he didn’t even realize had formed slipped down his face. They had never said those words to each other before, even as they said their goodbyes. Without thinking, their mouths found each other’s in a searing, sensual kiss. When they pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other.

“I know I just dropped a huge bomb on you,” she told him softly, a tear falling down her cheek. “And I am so sorry for everything. I didn’t know how to find you. If you even wanted to be found. And I was scared.” He made soothing sounds and wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” he said simply.

“But first, I need to formally introduce you to someone,” she smiled. “Let’s go meet our son.”

FIN

#choices fanfiction #fanfiction #playchoices #pixelberry #endless summer #Jake x MC #JakexMC #Jake McKenzie #choices the stories you play #choices

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hellsbellssinclub · 7 years

Text

Two-Face as Tim’s dad au. Part 3.

Part 1/ Part 2 / Part 3 AO3

This is a god damned monster chapter. There just wasn’t anywhere I could stop. 4000+ words which is wow.

Tim plans to manipulate Bruce and Dick into looking into the corruption at Arkham. It doesn’t go to plan.

Wayne Manor will always be an imposing and beautiful sight, no matter what time of day that it is. It was a grand, old Manor that has stood on these lands for hundreds of years, passed down through the generations of Wayne’s. The grounds that the Manor sat upon always looked endless and vast from the slopes of the driveway and the gates made the Manor grounds look larger than life.

The thick iron gates that lead to the grand driveway to the Manor doors looked heavy and burdened with age. Tim didn’t dare try and touch them, fearing that Bruce Wayne with his Batman paranoia would have placed some type of trap on them to keep unwanted guests from climbing over the gate and trying to get to the main house.

Tim had spent hours getting ready for this moment. Everything from the way his hair was parted to how his clothes sat on his body, even how his shoes were tied. He made himself look both like average Timothy Drake and child genius Timmy Dent. He has not seen Bruce face to face in years, not since just before he became Tim Drake. He needed for the older man to see the new him and remember the old him. Both personas would through the man off guard and make it easier for him to make his case.

Speaking of making his case; Tim looked through the papers he had in his hands one last time, checking again that he had everything he needed. It had taken Tim over an hour to find all of the papers that he wanted in his room. In the last month and a bit, he had become slack on his cleaning and everything was a mess. He was less than pleased with himself and was now ten minutes behind schedule because he had spent the time cleaning up his messes. At least Mrs. Mac does not go near his room, the family house keeper would have scolded him for leaving everything on the floor and not taking out his dirty dishes when he was done with them. Her anger is not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Taking a slow, calming breath to try and settle his nerves and slow his racing heart beating franticly in his chest, Tim walked over to the small pad on the side of the brick wall of the gate and pressed the big red button and waited. He remembered pressing the button many times as a very, very young child. A toddler really. His father would hold him up and he would press the button and squeal with joy. The memory made him want to smile but he didn’t. He needed his game face on and everything from now on must be acted out perfectly if this is to hopefully work.

He waited patiently for either the gates to be open or for the small screen on the pad to light up and someone to greet him. For five minutes there was nothing but silence and the rapid beating of his heart in his chest to keep him company before the screen on the pad lit up and an image of his own face appeared on screen. He made himself look shy and sheepish at the camera, feeling confident that the look appeared natural.

“Wayne Manor. Whom may I be speaking to?” The rich, calm and British voice spoke clearly through the speaker and Tim allowed himself to smile softly. He had always liked Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s butler and father figure.

“Hello Mister Pennyworth.” Tim kept his voice soft, praying that it wouldn’t break just yet. “Um, I am not sure if you remember me or not, but it’s Tim. Tim Dent. Well… Err, not Dent anymore but um…” He trailed his voice off and looked down at his shoes, kicking them lightly. “Is… Is Mister Wayne home by chance?” Tim was quite proud at how he managed to keep his voice awkward and soft.

“Tim Dent?” There was a slight hint of confusion in the older man’s voice but there was also a hint of joy. “Master Tim it has been years! I did not recognise you at all you have grown so much over the years. Come through the gates, Master Bruce is home, I will let him and Master Dick know that you are coming.” The screen went black and the heavy gates creaked open beside him, granting him access to the grounds.

If there was one thing he could say that he did not like about Wayne Manor, it was the fact it took over seven minutes for him to walk from the gates to the Manor doors. By car the trip would only take a minute or so, but by foot for a small twelve-year-old boy? It took way too long. At least Tim could say that him playing baseball and doing martial arts for the past four years means that at least he is not out of breath or looking silly. At least the walk was nice, given that he got to see the beautiful gardens that the Manor holds.

As he walked up the grand steps to the Manor, Tim forced away all the self- doubts and worries that were floating in the back of his mind. He could do this. He had planned this out perfectly. The worse that could happen here is that Bruce Wayne might ignore what he says and send him on his way. And Tim would have to initiate plan two but that was fine. He could live with that.

Tim raised his hand to knock on the handcrafted and stunning wood door when the said door swung open and there stood Alfred Pennyworth, the man who was the backbone behind Batman and Bruce Wayne. He looked older than Tim remembered, but even with the new lines around his eyes and whiteness of his hair, Alfred Pennyworth look as sharp and as fit as ever.

“Mister Pennyworth.” Tim gave a genuine smile up at the older man as he lowered his hand. He had missed the older man. Whenever his father would come and see Bruce, Tim would end up playing with Alfred. Usually chess or the older man would read him classic books. When he had been a young boy, Tim had seen Alfred as a surrogate grandfather.

“Master Timothy. You have grown.” The butler smiled slightly. “You look strikingly like your mother.”

Tim snorted quietly and shrugged. It was true. Tim had inherited his mother’s small figure and structure. It was likely he would not be much taller than her at all. “So, I have been told.” His martial arts teacher, Nyssa, says that his slight figure that he inherited from his mother was a good thing as it means that people will always underestimate him if he gets into a fight. Tim just wants to have a growth spurt already because he still looked like he was ten. Which you know, is not exactly the most fun thing in the world.

The old butler gave him a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. “I am sure you will hit a growth spurt soon enough.” He said, reading into what was not spoken. Tim gave another shrug and smiled softly without saying anything. There was a slight worry in the back of his mind that the old butler would figure out that he was trying to manipulate Bruce and Dick, but Tim dismissed it.

Even if Alfred suspected him of manipulation, it would not matter seeing as nothing of what Tim wanted was actually bad and that the information he had on him was just the bare bones of what you could find on the internet. No one in their right minds would suspect that he was trying to free his father, which he wasn’t, or that he was trying to do something that would harm Gotham.

He was just a scared young boy worried about his father. Who would fault him for that?

“Come, Master Bruce and Master Dick are waiting for you. They were both quite surprised when I told then you were at the gate.” Alfred stepped to the side and allowed Tim in. The grand entryway was just as large and beautiful as he remembered, though it had been renovated several times by the looks of it.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Tim bit his bottom lip slightly as he fell in step behind the older man as he was lead through the Manor’s labyrinth of corridors. There were areas of the Manor that looked lived in and well used. There were pictures on the wall of Dick and Jason with Bruce at different places. There were pictures of Bruce and his parents and things were perfectly placed at all. But there were other places that looked too perfect, too well presented. Like they were from a magazine of fancy homes.

It was a strange mix if Tim was to be honest. Back when they were living in the city and when his father was still a lawyer and not a super villain, Tim’s house had been full of pictures and little bits and pieces that made the whole place feel like home. Drake Manor was a stark contrast to that. The Manor was like a show home, nothing was out of place and there were barely any pictures at all, least someone realise that Tim does not look like Jack at all.

“Oh no, you are not interrupting at all, young Master.” Alfred was saying as they turned down another corridor. “They are free for the next few hours and are more than eager to see you.”

Tim felt a small blush rise up onto his cheeks and he ducked his head shyly. While he knew that the reason for why Bruce and Dick were probably eager to see him was because he wasn’t technically supposed to go and see anyone who knew his father and him before Tim’s identity was changed, it was still very nice to hear that someone was eager to see him. No one is eager to see him. He was average Tim Drake with a handful of people he could call friends and parents who were away most of the time.

But he should not let the warm feeling that swelled in his chest at the thought of someone wanting to see him distract him from his goal. Yes, it really was a nice feel and oh he was definitely going to need to think over and examine these emotions later. When he is not trying to manipulate Batman and Nightwing into investigating corruption in Arkham Asylum.

The room that he was led to was a large study with an entire wall taken up by a celling tall book case filled with large books, most of which looked like they had never been open before. There were several comfortable looking chairs around a small coffee table that looked like it had never had a drink ever rest upon it. The room was perfectly placed and everything looked staged. Even Bruce and Dick who were both sitting on the chairs looked like they were models waiting to be photographed.

Both Bruce and Dick stood as he entered the room with Alfred, their ‘Brucie Wayne’ and ‘Richard Grayson’ personas shining through as they both gave him model perfect smiles. Eager to see him, but not eager enough to be themselves. Or as themselves as they allow themselves to be with people who don’t know their night-time activates. Tim felt his lip twitch slightly at the perfect smiles, wondering if he was offended or not that they would chose to use them on him. It may have been a few years since he last saw both of them but he did not expect to see the public personas of the two men before him.

Well there was nothing he could do about that. Just because they were using those personas did not mean that he could not do what he came to do. Tim gave a small, shy smile and ducked his head as Alfred introduced him.

“Master Bruce, Master Dick, this is Timothy err Well…” The old butler paused. “This is Master Timothy Drake. I am sure you both remember him correct?” Tim was not surprised that Alfred knew that he was Timothy Drake. Tim was sure that Bruce had a hand in helping Tim’s mother change their identities.

Tim looked up and gave both men a small nod while fidgeting with his papers. “It is nice to see you both again.” He spoke politely, not meeting either man’s eyes just yet.

“It is good to see you again Tim.” ‘Brucie’ grinned as he gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit, sit! Come and tell us what brings you here to visit!”

Tim gave a small smile up at Alfred before shuffling over to the chair and sitting down. Dick’s smile had gone from ‘super attractive model smile’ to a more softer and kinder one. Tim could remember seeing the older man give such a smile to young kids and scared civilians as Nightwing. He gave a timid smile back at the older man and twisted the papers in his hand a little bit more.

“So, Timmy, what brings you here? Is everything alright? Your identity is still good and safe?” Dick asked, his voice very smooth and calm. If Tim was not used to hearing it while out taking photos of Batman and Nightwing, he would have found it very relaxing. Right now, though it put him slightly on guard because Nightwing normally uses that voice when he needs to get information out of scared individuals.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “Mum and I safe. Our identities haven’t been found out at all. Um…” He looked down at the papers. “I’m here because of my dad. Not Jack… but dad.” He did not look up to see their reactions even though he wanted to.

“Tim… is there something wrong? Has your… has Harvey sent you anything threatening? Or have you been threatened by someone because of him?” Bruce asked, losing the ‘Brucie’ persona all together and becoming more… was ‘real’ the right word to use? He wasn’t sure how to put it but Bruce’s voice wasn’t Batman’s but it wasn’t ‘Brucie’s’ either.

Tim looked up now and shook his head. Bruce Wayne looked tired. There were large shadows under his eyes and the older man looked pale and pinched. Tim was not sure if Batman had been injured in the last week or not because he had not been out Batman spotting at all, but he knows that Bruce would not get much sleep with his caped persona out all night and then going into work to be a CEO.

“No… No one has threatened me.” Tim said quietly, fiddling with the papers. “When… When we changed our name and stuff, Detective Bullock set up a drop box in the city so that dad could keep writing to us without knowing where or who we now are. And some of dad’s letters in the last few months have been… off.”

Bruce frowned at his choice of wording. “Is he deteriorating?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “He was put back in Arkham several months, back right? Could he just be having a bad couple of months?”

Tim shook his head again. “That’s the thing Mister Wayne, dad has been coherent and hasn’t relapsed like he has in the past.” Tim held out the letters that he had in his hands. “The one on the left is how dad writes when he is relapsing or having a bad month. He sent me that last year before he broke out of Arkham and tried to burn down the Mayor’s office.” The writing in that letter was barely legible was written in crayon. There were words and whole paragraphs crossed out and it was very obvious that when his father was not in his right mind when he was writing that letter.

Tim held out another piece of paper. “This is how he normally writes to me. This was what he wrote at the start of the year.” The letter he passed to Dick was well written, neatly spaced and written in pen. There were only one or two words crossed out but there was no violence in this letter like there was in the other.

Bruce and Dick looked over both letters together, their heads bent down close to each other as they examined the words and the paper they were written on. At some point Alfred had left the room and had not returned. Tim was not sure if he was giving them privacy or if he was getting them drinks but he could not honestly say when the older man had left.

“Do you have the letters that he has been sending you lately, Timmy?” Dick finally asked, handing both letters to Bruce. The former Boy Wonder’s eyes were sharp as he looked Tim over.

Tim nodded and held out the recent letter. On the surface, this letter looked like the one he had just given them. Well written, coherent and written in pen. It was what was written that was the concern. His father mentioned the unauthorised testing of drugs on inmates. The unethical electroshock therapy that Gotham banned after some inmate decades ago had experimented on staff members for hours before the guards stopped it. The letter also mentioned the constant changing of medication, a new drug every week and how none of the inmates were allowed to even know what they were taking. There was also a few mentions the poor conditions that the inmates dealt with and that funding to the Asylum was not regulated and that money was going straight to the Doctors and guards, not to fixing the Asylum.

He knows that it is technically not enough to warrant any type of investigation through any real legal means. Even if he had gone to Jim Gordon, there was a good chance he would not be able to do much other than give the information to Batman. He hoped that going to Bruce would be able to get both Bruce Wayne and Batman to look into it.

“Timmy, there isn’t much anyone can do with this.” Dick sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. “Harvey… Harvey is legally insane, as much as I hate to say it. Even with how coherent this letter is there is no proof to what he is claiming. There isn’t much we can do.”

Tim hated how sad and apologetic Dick sounded. That was not what he wanted to hear. He held out the other papers that were still in is hands. “But there is proof!” He said almost desperately. “Arkham Asylum is a government funded public criminal asylum. All of the practices used on patients must be logged. As well as all of the medications and therapies used. There also has to be clear and direct links to where the funding is going. The numbers aren’t adding up to the equipment used and to the medication. Something is wrong. Wayne Enterprises gives thousands of dollars every year to help keep Arkham up and running. Where is that money going? What is happening in there? Please.”

The more he spoke the more Dick’s face became uncomfortable and heartbroken. There was pity in his bright blue eyes and Tim felt nauseous looking into them. Bruce’s face was not much better. The older man had all but gone blank and his eyes were cold and unemotional. Neither man said anything for a few moments after he finished speaking. There was just awkward and heavy silence before Bruce spoke, his voice tired and strained.

“Tim, there isn’t anything we can do to help you.” The older man looked down at Tim as he stood up. “Arkham is corrupt yes, but it is where your father belongs. He is getting the help he needs there, no matter what his letters may say. You need to stop accepting his letters, Tim. It puts you and your mother at risk when you receive them. And no amount of planning and safe keeping will keep your new identities safe if even just one person finds out that you are now Tim Drake because of these letters.” Bruce rubbed a hand over his face. “Your father was a good friend of mine, Tim. But you can’t put much stock into what he says to you. Your father is sick and the Asylum is where he can get the help he needs. It was nice seeing you again, Tim.”

And with that Bruce Wayne just left the room, leaving the letters on the table and the door open behind him. Tim shook slightly as he gathered the papers, his hands trembling as he put them all neatly in a pile. He heard Dick stand and looked up at the older man, there was still pity on his face.

“Come on Timmy, I will take you home.” He said, voice soft and gentle. Tim was repulsed by it. He wasn’t some child who needed to be comforted. He had a setback but that doesn’t mean anything. He will get his father the help he needs. Tim will.

Shaking his head Tim said nothing, just walked towards the door. He heard Dick sigh and then suddenly there was an arm wrapped around his shoulders and he was being pulled into Dick’s hard chest.

“Timmy.” Came the muffled voice above his head. “Don’t let Bruce get you down okay? He has a lot on his plate right now and I will talk to him later for you. But Timmy, your dad isn’t in a good place, you need to take anything he tells you with a grain of salt.” The arm around him tightened and pulled him closer to Dick. Tim did not hug the older man back, even though the feeling of being hugged was great and being hugged by Dick Grayson was even better. He did rest his head on Dick’s chest and let the older man hold him though.

“Come on, I will show you out then.” Dick sighed after a minute or so of holding an unresponsive Tim.

The walk out of the Manor was quiet. Neither Alfred or Bruce were to be seen at all and Dick did not seem to have anything else to say to Tim. But Dick did keep his hand on Tim shoulder the whole way out of the Manor and down the drive way. The older man keyed in a code, that Tim did not see, onto a small pad by the gate that opened them. They stood there for a moment before Dick pulled him into another quick hug before pulling back.

“Take care, Timmy. I will talk to Bruce for you alright? But don’t let this consume you. You can’t live your life dictated by your father. You have a new life and you need to live it. Don’t get swallowed by the past. Live, Timmy.” Dick smiled down at him and pushed his hair back from Tim’s face. “I will see you around.”

And with that Dick turned and began walking back to the Manor. Tim held onto the papers he had tightly and walked out the open gates. It was not until he was half way back to Drake Manor that the tears he had been holding back began to fall from his eyes.

This was just a setback. This was just a setback. This was just a setback.

It’s okay. It will be okay. Tim knew there was a chance this would happen. He knew that Bruce might have reacted like this. He planned for this. But planning and experiencing was two very different things. Tim could not help but feel a burning disappointment for his favourite hero. He expected more from Bruce Wayne. He expected more from the man who claims to be Gotham’s hero. He expected more from his father’s former best friend.

He would give Bruce Wayne a month to do something about the information that Tim had presented him. If Bruce does nothing, not as Batman or Bruce Wayne then Tim would take matters into his own hands and initiate plan two.

He won’t give up. He won’t.

#Two-Face as Tim's dad AU #hellsbells wrote something!!!#Tim Drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Alfred Pennyworth #harvey dent #two-face #batman #nightwing #batman fic

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thisislizheather · 5 years

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Navigating November 2019

I love being in the middle of the holiday season. So many get togethers, fat-ass blankets are on the bed, the snow is on its way, presents are coming, I love it all. It’s finally time for reflection and to celebrate the entire year that has come and gone. It’s the best time of the damn year. So excited for December to start. Here’s what happened last month:

Chrissy Teigen started her own website and though I haven’t tried any of her recipes on it yet, I intend to soon. I’ll likely start with this Lemon & Walnut Pasta since it’s been pretty popular. One thing I do like so far about the site? The newsletter that she emails out. She gives restaurant recommendations in them, which I happen to love.

I rewatched The Game and it’s still as great as I remembered. Michael Douglas can do no wrong.

Quick question: does anyone ever change up their makeup routine? I want to and don’t know how. I’m thinking maybe I’ll go the YouTube-tutorials route, but they can be so boring. Any suggestions welcome. I do not want to watch James Charles. His face bothers me.

I tried the Hard Kombucha from Trader Joe’s and it’s absolutely nothing special at all. The regular non-alcoholic stuff is way tastier.

I rewatched Rosemary’s Baby (I first saw it as a teenager and did. not. enjoy. it.) and surprise surprise: adult-me didn’t enjoy it either. It’s just really frustrating to watch. Mia Farrow makes all these terrible decisions and her husband has sex with her when she’s unconscious (???) and it’s just a lot. Must remember to never watch again.

We bought a new couch! It’s been a very big deal.

The TWA Hotel just keeps getting cooler: they’re going to have an ice skating rink this winter.

Love this cartoon:

Above Photo: Elilis Rosen, The New Yorker

I tried the Staten Island-style pizza at Joe & Pat’s in the East Village and it was good, but nothing to write home about. Skinny pizza is skinny pizza.

We haven’t watched any old Twilight Zone episodes in forever, probably because we forgot about it but also maybe because I think we’ve already seen all the good ones. But we recently watched The Long Morrow episode (mainly because it’s mentioned in a Gilmore Girls episode where it’s noted how romantic this episode is supposed to be) and WOOF. It fucking blew! I was pissed. I should’ve known it would suck though because it was “Logan’s favourite episode.” Serves me right.

I tried these cauliflower crackers from ALDI and whoa. Greatest cracker. This was also the first time I’ve ever been to an ALDI and I was expecting a bit more, to be honest. It’s just a dumpy grocery store? Why all the caps?

I’ve been following this woman Arielle for a few years now and I like her a lot. She used to work for Buzzfeed and that’s where I’d first heard of her (don’t judge me) and now I just sort of like to keep up with her life and what she’s doing. Very sweet, likable person to follow. This sounds vague as hell, but I’m really just mentioning it here because I feel like it’s hard to come across good people to follow who don’t make you feel bad about your own life and are sort of inspiring.

You know how you’ll buy something that’s supposed to change your life and you use it for a week and then never again? Yeah, that’s me with every single thing on my dresser. ANYWAY, I’ve actually started to use the Origins GinZing Eye Cream every night for the past little while and it really works, I think. (God, this just reminded me that I need to start remembering to put on neck cream. I can’t remember where I heard someone say that no one cares about their neck when they’re young and then WHAM one day your neck looks like that of an elderly turkey.)

I really thought I wanted to buy this new Frozen Colourpop palette but then I realized that I actually only want that colour in the middle, soooo I might just get this Huda palette in Topaz instead. (Yeah, I just bought it.) I’m very in the mood to do holiday makeup this year.

I think I’ve decided that there are way better eyeliners out there than Fenty’s Flyliner. It sticks to your eyelashes so that a coat of mascara can’t go on smoothly! It sucks. There! I’ve said it! Still love the sponge, though.

I rewatched The Day After Tomorrow and I’ve gotta say… I love movies like these. Dante’s Peak. Twister. This one. Love watching the world get all fucked up. But really, did climate change WRITE this movie? It’s great.

I have been watching so much Living Single and maaaaaaaan, this show’s perfect. It’s funny, it’s got heart, it’s not a typical kind of sitcom, there are minimal white people, it’s got it all! Love it so much. Wish reruns were easier to find on TV.

Hulu is having a sale right now where it’s $2/per month for a year. Yeah, that can’t be right. Check it out, might be worth it. Sale ends Monday December 2nd.

I am in love with these socks I got from Express. Love a smooth, soft sock in the wintertime.

I posted about my trip to New Orleans last month.

I made this Melt In Your Mouth Chicken and it was actually pretty good. Never would’ve even thought about coating chicken in yogurt.

I rewatched Big and of course I love this movie, it’s got a wish-granting robot machine in it. I should’ve wrote this damn movie!

Words can’t fully describe how much I love the Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas themed episodes of Bob’s Burgers. They’re always the best.

I watched Rumble in the Bronx and wow. Just a fun movie. Best part is by far the moment he launches a toddler out of harm’s way.

I went to Mister Paradise in the East Village and I’m sorry, it’s too expensive to drink in public these days. It’s nuts. One drink should never cost more than $15, have we all gone insane to silently agree to these parameters? And if you’re advertising “fancy sauce” for your fries, it better not be fucking ketchup mixed with mayo. That is some bullshit.

I finished Lindy West’s new book The Witches Are Coming and wrote a post about my favourite parts from it.

I watched True Lies and holy shit, a lot happens in this movie. In a good way. Fun watch.

I tried a sample of this Belief cream and it is luxurious as hell. Feels like it might be the perfect neck cream, too. You know, if you’re looking for that kind of thing (YOU SHOULD BE).

So I watched the Mr. Rogers movie with Tom Hanks and it’s just an unnecessary movie. I’m not hating on Tom Hanks, he’s fine in it (although he looks nothing like the man, it isn’t a good impersonation, the story doesn’t need to be told, ETC.) but it really just didn’t need to be made. A great Mr. Rogers movie already exists. They already did it! That being said, I teared up whenever any of the Mr. Rogers songs were sung. I can’t NOT cry at those songs, I’ve got a beating heart, don’t I?

So when I did Nathan’s podcast earlier this month, we talked briefly about going vegan for a week (we watched The Game Changers documentary) and we did it and now our lives are changed. Hahah, no no no, but that’d be wild. It was a hard week to do (mostly to cut out the dairy) but it did feel really good, so we’re going to try to limit meat and dairy much more strictly and see where that takes us. I promise not to talk about this for the rest of time.

I tried Trader Joe’s Vegan Mozzarella and holy hell, it was bad. Tasted like cooked plastic. Returned it immediately.

In contrast, their vegan butter was really, really good and a great substitution for regular butter.

I will forever love and miss In Living Color.

In true November fashion, I had my Thanksgiving croissant from Momofuku Milk Bar and I got it at their new flagship store in the city that is huge. They also had (vegan) apple pie soft serve that was insanely good and the seasonal pumpkin dulce de leche truffles they have right now are amazing. And the flagship location accepts cash! This better be the start of all the damn locations accepting cash. Don’t GET ME STARTED on places not accepting human cash.

Some thoughts on how to have a cheaper Christmas.

Some things that I’m looking forward to this month: I’m going to attempt to make (rather than buy) some of the Christmas gifts I’ve giving this year but we’ll see if this actually pans out, I’m awaiting Jenny Slate’s new book from the library, I definitely have to find time to watch Krampus, putting up the (real) Christmas tree since this is the first year we’re getting a normal, adult sized one, the first day of snow is apparently tomorrow (in NYC) and I’m in looooove with the fact that it’ll also be December 1st when this happens, taking the family Christmas card, I have an obligation to make these Nutella cookies, and I will definitely watch a few of these. Santa, get your ass over here!

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in October over here!

#monthly post #monthly roundup #this is liz heather #Liz Heather

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fallen029 · 7 years

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Remember Me: Learning

Natsu learned a lot from having a kid. Stuff that he kinda already knew, but it was just driven home for him all the more afterwards.

Like how you didn't really need sleep. Want was more the word. And just because something smells bad, like say, a certain baby, you can't just throw it out. Unfortunately.

"Lucy! The baby threw up on my scarf!"

Oh, and he learned that nothing was safe. Nothing.

The kid threw up on everything. And, later, tried to eat everything. Anything. It was horrible.

But…there were moments when it was just…so cool! Especially the longer time went on. The baby learned how to do all sorts of cool things. Like sit up on her own and roll around on the ground. And when she learned to crawl, well, gah!

It was just so cool.

"I'm pretty sure that our baby's, like, twenty times as great as all other babies, Hap."

"Aye, sir!"

He and Happy did all kinda stuff with the baby. Like they took her for walks and they taught her to talk. Never before had he been so pumped to not be out on a job. Before, those were the best moments of his life, getting to go out on all sorts of adventures and stuff.

That was before Navi though. She had to be hands down the best baby ever!

"She did it again!"

Except for when she did that.

"Natsu," Lucy would complain. "Babies spit up sometimes. It's just what they do."

"But on my scarf? Now I have to wash it!"

Lucy would only give the garment a disapproving look. "It probably needs it anyhow."

Bleh.

"You gotta stop that," he told her once, around her first birthday. He had her sitting down on his and Lucy's bed, some of her toys scattered about. "It's really icky and me and Happy don't like it much."

Happy, who was with him up there, nodded his head. "Not at all."

The baby only giggled, grinning at them as she waved her little hands in the air. "Ah!"

"You say that all the time," Natsu complained. "But then you never follow through. Gajeel and Laxus' kids don't puke on them! Not that I've asked around or anything, but, Navi, come on. Do you not like my scarf?"

He took it off then, holding it in front of her.

"Natsu," Happy warned, but he only shook his head.

"She can hold it," he said, watching as the baby reached out to grab it. She was still rather unbalanced at times though and fell back then, landing gently on the pillows behind her. Clutching the scarf in her hands, she giggled as Natsu only shifted to lay on his side next to her, smiling. "See? She- Ah, Navi! No!"

Apparently, the kid could also snot on his stuff without fear of reprimanding.

His scarf had never gone through such treatment before on a regular basis. And Lucy would only shrug, like it didn't matter.

Of course it mattered! It was all that mattered!

But what could he do? The baby sure liked the scarf. And he sure liked giving her things she liked. But she also seemed to enjoy messing things up.

A lot.

Like sometimes, he'd play blocks with her. And, being the guy who he was, he'd get real intense about his tower. Trying to build it higher and higher and-

Oh, wow, and there Navi was once again knocking it down with a devious giggle.

She was pure evil!

But…she was still his baby.

Yet another thing he learned from her was that that you had tons of hair. So if, say, a young child decided to tug strands of it out, you'd be fine. No, really.

Expect it would hurt like hell.

"Why does she only pull my hair?" Natsu complained.

"Maybe she thinks it's pretty," Lucy would always be quick to offer.

"Well, it's not, Navi," he'd tell her. "So knock it off."

But she wouldn't. And he couldn't yell at her. Not really. She was so tiny and needy and loads of fun.

And the older she got, the more she ate. Just like him! To a lesser extent.

"You shouldn't feed her so much," Lucy would scold whenever he came home with sweets for her.

"Why not?" Quite honestly, he just used her desire for food to fuel his own. "She's about the size of Happy now. Shouldn't she eat as much as him?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Hey," Happy complained. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No," Lucy said with a roll of her eyes. "But I am saying that a two year old shouldn't eat all the things you give her."

"C'mon, Luce. I waited a whole two years to be able to share everything with her," Natsu insisted. "First I couldn't feed her anything but milk, which, by the way, stunk. Then she could hardly chew. Now she can, but I still can't just feed her whatever? I mean, look at her. You like it, huh, Navi?"

That was another thing he learned. The kid was always on his side.

"Yes," was her answer to all of his questions. That's how come he always phrased them to where that was the correct answer. It was her favorite word, after all. "Yes!"

He used that against Lucy all the time. Like when he just got home from a job and didn't feel like doing something, he'd just use Navi.

"I can't cook dinner tonight, Luce," he'd say. "Navi likes it better when you cook. Don't you, Navi?"

"Yes!"

Or,

"Lucy, I'm training. I can't watch her. Just take her to the market with you. You'll behave, won't you, Navi?"

"Yes!"

She was pretty awesome when it came to stuff like that.

Gah! And Natsu realized just how much fun it was to teach the baby to talk. The older she got, the more words he taught her. It reminded him of Happy, who, by the way, helped out a lot.

"She's kinda like your little sister, Hap," Natsu told him once.

That didn't go over well.

"Gross," he said. "That would make you my dad."

"And what's wrong with that?"

Happy snickered then. "And then Lucy would be my mom."

"Oh, no, I agree with you now. Gross. Poor Navi."

"Poor me!"

"Trust me," Lucy told them as Happy hid behind Natsu for protection. "Lisanna can definitely take the honor as your mother, Happy."

"Why? I'm not good enough for you?"

"You just said you didn't want me anyways!"

"Sheesh. You know, I'm a lot nicer to you than you are to me."

"You are not. You say horrible things about me all the time."

"You gave my room away!"

"It wasn't your room to begin with. It was going to be Navi's from the start. That's why we moved into this place when I got pregnant. You're the one that started sleeping in there."

"You sure are a rotten stepmother."

"Shut up, you stupid cat."

Natsu only grinned at Navi though who giggled at the facing he was making.

"They argue because they love each other, huh?" He patted her on the head gently. "So don't worry none. Be more scared when they stop arguing."

Oh, no, by that point Navi was all used to their yelling. Lucy yelled a lot. From Natsu and Happy's point of view at least. Of course, it would be neglectful to not mention that it was usually their faults that she was yelling, but hey, they were messy. She knew that going in.

Natsu and Happy though, they made a lot of noise too. It was kinda problematic at the start. Natsu had to learn to tone down his excitement over things. He had a tendency to yell for no reason which, those first few months, could send Navi into hysterics. Especially if she was in the middle of a nap.

And poor Happy, he had to learn too not to blurt out, "Aye, sir!" at the top of his lungs whenever Lucy asked him to do something.

She was sensitive to noise back then.

Not anymore though. Nope. The kid made more noise than all of them at times. Especially when she was happy. She would yell and scream when Natsu tickled her or when she was riding up on his shoulders, shouting out to everything.

They were just loud people, he guessed. And it was great…when she wasn't throwing a tantrum.

Which, slowly, became the daily norm.

"My ears are precious, kid. They hear everything," he told her once as he and Happy tried to bribe her with toys and the such to calm her down. "And this isn't helping anything."

"Why does she cry though if there's nothing wrong?" Happy didn't rather like her fits either. "Maybe we should just leave quietly and go on a mission. Let Lucy deal with her."

"Luce ain't home. And we can't leave the baby by herself. Believe me, I thought about it."

Happy took off for the window then. "Maybe you can't leave her, but I can."

"Happy!"

"You're the father. Not me. I'mma go see if Carla's down at the guildhall."

"How could you, little buddy?"

"Like this," he said, jumping out of the window, wings giving him flight immediately. "Bye, Natsu. Bye, Navi."

"Sometimes he's the worst," Natsu complained, giving up on calming the little girl down and taking to just laying on his stomach. Navi was still sitting on the floor, whining loudly.

"And you're not much better right now," he grumbled to his daughter. "When are you gonna grow out of this, huh? Or at least go back to being a baby who slept all day and only cried when I had nothing important to do."

Apparently, there was no reasoning with the child. For another ten straight minutes, she practically screamed her lungs out. Honestly, Natsu was more impressed than anything else.

"You've got some roar," he complimented to no avail.

Sigh.

If Lucy got home and saw, once more, that he'd been unable to stop the baby from crying, she'd tell him once again that he wasn't ready to be left alone with her.

Which wasn't fair, by the way. The baby cried around Lucy too. So what if she was able to figure out her needs easier? Sometimes the kid didn't need anything. She just wanted to scream. Throw a fit.

How was that his fault?

As he laid there that day though, listening to her whine and waiting for Lucy to come back so that he could go track down Happy and then train, he started to get a little sleepy.

He was hoping that Navi was too, but she just wasn't letting up.

It was when he shut his eyes though and stopped responding to her that it happened.

Not immediately, but rather gradually, her cries tapered off. He was drifting away then too though and didn't notice at first.

"Daddy?" Navi was over next to him then, poking at his cheek. "Daddy?"

"Mmmm," he groaned. "You done cryin'?"

She poked at his face some more. "Nigh-nigh?"

"Naptime."

"Na-me."

"Mmmhmm."

Moving further down then, the toddler went to snuggle up against his side. Naptime.

Oh, and that was the most important thing Natsu learned. One of those ones that he didn't think he was ever missing. And maybe he wasn't, before, but since she was born, he'd come to realize it.

He never felt more whole than when she was snoozing next to him. And if she took after him in energy and gluttony, her ability to sleep the day away was high too.

Chuckling slightly as he reached down with one hand to pat her on the head, he knew there would never be another feeling like it. He'd give up everything for Navi. Even when she was annoying, she was still his favorite person in the world.

"Maybe no trainin' today," he mumbled as Navi yawned, snuggling closer. "After our nap, we can go to the park, huh? You wanna go to the park, Navi?"

"Yes," she mumbled tiredly. It was hard, throwing a tantrum for that long. "Pa'k."

"Mmmm. And we gotta find Happy. That traitor. He'd like to go to the park too, I'm sure."

"Happy."

"Mmmhmm."

"Mommy?"

Rolling onto his side, Natsu scooped her up so that she could rest closer to his face.

"She can come too. When she gets home. Not too soon though," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her head. "I hope."

Full Series on Archive

#Nalu #Natsu #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #Happy Fairy Tail #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction #Team Natsu

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jo-the-schmo · 7 years

Text

Breaking... Ch. 16

Masterlist

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

A/N: This chapter was gonna be much longer but I relaized I should make it two parts because there is a lot going on. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 3510

Warnings: Uh cursing I think is the only one…wow maybe bad french since I don’t speak it, I just take it sooooo

Tags!!: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7@littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment@unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple@ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate@superwholockbooknerd526@frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr@sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space@iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2(lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!) @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism

If anyone else wants to be tagged just send me an ask!

Breaking Pace

You poked at the fire, it’s just as cold this winter as it had been the last. But that only meant one things for you, Philip Hamilton’s coming home. The Christmas season has come upon everyone, this is actually the first Christmas you’ll spend with them and you’re realizing how different things are with the holiday in this era. However, some things are still the same, like the singing. You Eliza walked through town together, which was the first time you’d actually walked through the city. You didn’t do much, just picked up some things for the upcoming dinner. While you were out you saw countless numbers of people singing and you were honestly amazed at the sheer amount. New York City was still New York City, no matter what time period. You missed it, the kids kept you busy sure but you never did get used to how quiet it was so far from the hustle and bustle of city life. If you closed your eyes and listened to everything around you, you felt like you were back home. Sitting by your window sill in your third floor apartment that you shared with Anna. You always felt conflicted over whether you wanted to go back to that or not. All of your friends and family were back in the twenty-first century but…the love of your life was here. Not only him but all the new friends you’d made. There was no win, no matter what happened you’d lose something and every time you thought about that you’d stop and listen. In the city you had the best of both worlds. You liked it up there and the singing wasn’t the only thing you noticed. Presents. Oh, the bane of this world, giving people gifts. It’s always fun to do it but the process of finding them is extremely frustrating most of the time. And you were in a different position than most. Alex and Eliza always asked if you’d like compensation for working but you always turned them down. They were already giving you more than enough so there was never a need for that. Now though, you were starting to see the appeal of it. You had nothing to give, at least physically you didn’t. Which is why you made a little deal with Eliza and Angie, but that comes in to play later. You heard a stampede of footsteps trot down the stairs and looked up to find all the children rushing down them. You quickly got up and went over to them.

“Hey, hey, hey now! No running down the stairs! You guys could get hurt!” AJ had a huge grin on his face.

“I’ll go get Father and Mother! They’ll be so happy!” AJ turned to run down the hall toward the study. What the hell’s going on? Johnny noticed your confused expression and explained.

“There’s a carriage…Philip is here early!” He said joyfully. WHAT?! He’s here! He wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow morning! Oh God, do I look okay? Do I have ashes on my apron? Oh, why do I fucking care?! I’m a maid! You smoothed out your dress and saw Eliza and Alex rushing into the main room, AJ close behind.

“My son is back from working hard! I’m so excited!” Alex chimed in while Eliza simply jumped around happily. Everyone crowded around the door as the sound of carriage wheels got louder and louder until they stopped out front. Ugh, I love that sound! You stayed in the middle of the room. I’ll write a letter to Philip every day. I’ve kept his room clean while he was away. Wait for him. The door finally opened, you hear him but you couldn’t see him, everyone was standing in the way but you heard it, among all the words buzzing around you heard it.

“I missed you all so much!” He still sounded as chipper as ever, it made your heart skip a beat. I’m willing to wait for him… The kids parted from him, Eliza and Alex moved to stand by his side. There he was. My Philip Hamilton… He was wearing an extra jacket because of the cold and he was wearing a hat, that was new at least. What is up with that feather though?! He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and you could almost swear time itself stopped with him. He didn’t move but a smile creeped up onto his face. You weren’t ashamed to admit that a few stray tears escaped your eyes. You took a cautious step forward, your hand reaching out, he did the same. You shook your hesitation away and busted out into a full sprint towards him. He met you halfway. You slammed into him and hugged him with all your strength.

“Come on Star, I’ve only been gone for a few months!” He joked.

“Shut up, Sunny. Let me have this!” He laid his hand on the back of your head and the other on the middle of your back.

“I’ve missed you…so much.” He whispered, you nodded into his shoulder.

“How do you think I feel?” You laughed. The two of you stood there for a moment, not moving, just taking in the pleasure of being close, which you haven’t been for almost five months. When you did pull away you looked up at his ridiculous hat and plucked it off his head.

“Are we in France now? Why on Earth would you wear this?” You tried to joke to stop yourself from crying so much, he looked at you with the same fake offense that you loved.

“Excuse you, I look wonderful in this hat! What? Do you have a thing against France now?”

“I’m not against France, I’m just no Thomas Jefferson. I swear Philly, if you do that thing we are-“

“Ah, mais Mademoiselle! Te yeux, elles avaient faire mal moi! Mon coeur, il vais te amour! Ma petite chou, s’il vous plait, qu’est que je dois te dire?”

“Philip, I have no idea what you just said to me but I think you called me a cabbage at some point and I am honestly very offended by this!”

“Your lack of culture offends me! I’ll have you know that my uncle gave this to me, so yes it is from France!”

“You have an uncle in France?” You asked.

“Well, he’s a kind of uncle. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette…we just call him uncle Laf!” OMG I’M TAKING THIS HORSE BY THE REINS! MAKING REDCOATS REDDER WITH BLOOD STAINS LAFAYETTE!! Alexander laughed at the name.

“His name is too long; the children call him ‘Laf’ because when Philip was a toddler he couldn’t even pronounce Lafayette!” Eliza smiled nostalgically.

“Aww, I remember that!” Philip shook his head disapprovingly.

“Anyways, I look great in this hat.”

“I think it’s a little too big; you need a few more months!” You handed it back to him. Your face is too nice to hide it under a hat, how else am I supposed to count your freckles? Philip raised an eyebrow to match his sly smile.

“Oh? So I have a nice face? And what was that? You count my freckles?” Damn it! I need to stop saying my thoughts out loud!

“Um, no?” You tried to deny.

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.” He chuckled.

“Ugh, I have to help prepare for dinner!”

“You can deny it all you want but I’m not the only one who sees it!” He jabbed, you rolled your eyes and started to walk towards the kitchen. You always felt weird around the other maids since none of them lived on the property, since they had their own families, and they were all much older than you. The oldest one looked like she was in her mid to late fifties but you thought it would be rude to ask. Just as you approached the door, Alex called out to you. You turned to see him jogging over to you, holding some sort of envelope in his hand. He stopped and held it to you. You took it and realized it was a letter it looked off to you, most likely because you couldn’t tell who it was from.

“I just checked the mail, it might from Philip before he left.” He chuckled before leaving to back and talk with his son. You looked back at it and you were sure it wasn’t from Philip. You popped off the seal and looked at the letter inside.

Dear Y/N,

Hello, it’s been a while. I haven’t been able to send letters due to how busy I have been. If you could not tell already, this is Rachel. Cato and I are doing wonderful, busy but wonderful nonetheless. We have set ourselves up a home close to New Jersey, I hope to see you soon but as I said I have been far too busy to do much of anything. But with that in mind, I have good news! I’ve recently given birth to two wonderful little boys. John Hercules Spencer and Alexander Titan Spencer. My surname is Sky because of my being a bastard but I went by Spencer for years to hide that. My children will have to do the same in order to thrive in this judgmental world but I am hopeful. Someday, things will be easier for them. Cato has lovingly dubbed them Herc and Titan, they’ll be wonderful no matter who the end up being. Did you catch the name? Titan, it’s you my dear friend! Titania, Titan, sounds quite nice don’t you think? I believe so. They are truly beautiful; they have their father’s skin but my eyes. Actually, oddly enough they both have a mess of freckles across their faces. They remind me very much of Philip and Angie because of that. I remember Alexander, Mr. Hamilton, told me that my father had those freckles. I do not remember him much but that I do. I’m glad my children share something with him because I know my father would be very proud of me. Not a single time did Alexander talk about my father and not mention his thoughts on me. He truly did love my mother; he was married because of his family. Even though my father only knew me for a short time, he adored me. I feel as though somehow he knew; he knew I would be the one to carry out his legacy. And I shall, I plan to speak out against slavery, for the sake of my love and my children. I will do anything for them and these atrocities need to be put to rest. I’d prefer it done peacefully but that does not seem to be an option, although I will try. I wish you could write back to me, do not fear though, I will try to see you as soon as I can. That probably will not be for some time though with how troublesome my children already seem to be. They don’t seem to cry but they never sleep and like to keep their poor mother up all night. They are so happy to be in this world; I shall always be here for them. My mother couldn’t be around so I swear I shall be for them. I’ll do whatever it takes, probably make a million mistakes. But I’ll make the world safe and sound for them. They will come of age with this young nation. I’ll bleed and fight for them, make it right for them. I will lay a strong enough foundation, I’ll pass it onto them and give the world to them. And let me tell you now, they will blow us all away someday. I cannot wait for you to meet them. Until time allows us to meet once more.

Your friend, R.S

You were incredibly happy; you were so glad that she was well. And she has children now! The idea that those kids will face hardship made you sad but you knew it would work out for the best. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and you couldn’t have asked for a better gift than that. You wondered what these next few days will bring.

…

This is it! Oh god I’m nervous! Alex and Eliza called you all down on Christmas morning. You, Eliza and Angie have been practicing for a whole month, you were so glad that they wanted to help you with this. All the children ran into the main room, holding cushions and using them to sit on the floor. Eliza decided to have all the children be given their presents first. Your favorite reaction was Johnny’s when he got new sheet music. He literally cried. You thought you should go next but Alex stopped you.

“Actually Titania, Eliza and I have something for you, the children do as well. Do you mind if we all go first?” He asked.

“Oh, you all didn’t have to get me anything! Oh that’s so sweet!” You couldn’t help but give a sheepish smile. They really didn’t have to do that! Johnny was the first to stand up. He hid his face in his cravat and made his words muffled.

“I…um, mama told me what your gift is so I have an idea for that…” He sat back down and you were already intrigued, so was everyone else. Before you could question him about what that meant Jamie stood and handed a large sheet of paper.

“Turn it around.” He instructed and you did so, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You saw a black and white sketch, your own face staring back at you. It was a beautifully done portrait, it must’ve taken him days to do.

“Oh, Jamie! I love it! It’s beautiful! I’m so proud of you!” You pulled him into a hug and ruffled his hair. He snorted and once you pulled away, AJ was standing with a proud smile on his face.

“I have to go grab mine! I’ll be right back!” He ran out of the room and into the dining room. You raised an eyebrow and you could Eliza holding back a giggle. He soon came running back into the room, holding some kind of tray. He approached you and you finally saw what it was. It was a small cake; you’ve only seen it once or twice in this era but not had it. Although Alex did say that John Adams probably won the election with cake bribery. “Cooking is science so I thought it would be the best decision to make this for you! I’m proud of the whipped cream myself!” He smiled widely.

“You…you used your talents for good instead of evil! AJ this is the best gift you could ever give me! I love it!” He handed you the tray and told you to try it later. Angie walked over to her parents and put her hands on her hips.

“I helped with this last year! So I hope you like it!” Both her and Eliza went over to you and locked arms with you.

“What’s going?” You asked nervously.

“You’ll have to come with us to get it! We’ll be right back boys!” Eliza cooed. They lead you down the hallway and into Alex and Eliza’s room, they closed the door behind you. Eliza walked over to her wardrobe and opened the door, quickly pulling some things out of it. Your eyes widened. “Mulligan said he took your measurements last year and decided to make something for you. Alexander, Angie and I all helped with the design. We think you’ll like it!”

“Put it on, put it on!” Angie jumped excitedly.

“Yes, undress please. I am very eager to see how this looks! I shall help you put it on.”

“Eliza, you don’t have to do that! I’m the maid here!” You interjected, she waved your comment off.

“Nonsense! You are a very dear friend and I consider you my own daughter so I will help you with this!” She insisted, you eventually gave in and undressed, allowing Eliza to help you with an actual corset.

‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” You let out as she tightened the laces to the back.

“You haven’t gotten the chance to wear a proper dress in a long time, don’t worry you’ll get used to it again.” I’ve never actually worn a real corset Eliza! She finished putting all the garments on you and helped you step into the cover. You pulled your arms through the sleeves and Eliza buttoned the back for you. You could feel the weight from the ruffling gathered up around your lower back.

“Okay, are you ready to see it?” Angie asked sweetly. You nodded and the led you over to Eliza’s full length mirror, once you saw yourself, you froze.

“Originally, it was meant to be a ball gown, but Alexander said that it might suit you better to wear something more casual.” Eliza informed. The dress was, as Eliza said, very casual. You could see someone wearing this to go visit a friend or to have tea, but it was nothing short of beautiful.

“I picked out the color! It’s the same color I wore when we first met!” Angie said proudly. It was a soothing lavender color with black and dark purple floral patterns along the trim, fading out into the actual skirt and bodice. The dress stopped at your ankles so you could see your old, dark boots peeking out from under it. The sleeves stopped at your elbows and the neckline was a little low but not so much that you felt uncomfortable. The actual heavy ruffles were the most intricate part, the fabric started at your stomach but draped down to your knees and came up to sit on your lower back, a waterfall of purple falling out of it.

“You look gorgeous, TT!” Angie exclaimed.

“I might want to keep this dress under lock and key, don’t want any boys trying to pester you now do we? Oh, what am I saying? You’re always beautiful! This dress just shows you what we all see!” Eliza commented. Beautiful? You certainly felt it, you felt like you could dazzle a room full of people. “Oh! Let me take that head cloth, that will really complete this!” She untied the cloth keeping your hair out of your face and handed it to Angie. There was a collective silence for a moment as Eliza and Angie nodded in approval.

“Come on! We have to show everyone!” Angie tugged on your arms, before you could even get a word in, they were already pushing out of the room.

“Alright, I shall go out first and introduce the two of you!” Eliza skipped down the hall and into the main you room while Angie and yourself stopped at the archway, hiding behind the wall so no one would see you. From in the room you heard Eliza. “Everyone! I have something I would like all of you to see!”

“What exactly is going on here mother?” You heard Philip ask. Angie held in a squeal.

“Patience Philip! Now everyone, give it up for the Hamilton girls! Titania and Angie!” You heard Alex and give a short ‘woohoo!’ and some applause. The Hamilton girls? Before you could think about that any more, Angie was leading you out, strutting into the room. You saw everyone look at the two of you and they cheered, everyone except Philip. For a second you worried that he might not like the dress but as got closer to him, you saw the look in his eyes. He was star-struck. By the time you made it back to where you were in the group originally, Philip was staring up at you from his seat, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. “These girls are the most beautiful roses this family could ever hope to see!” Eliza smiled.

“Yeah! We’re beautiful but if anyone tries to mess with us, they get the thorns!” Angie stuck out her tongue. You couldn’t help but giggle at the statement paired with her enthusiasm. AJ leaned over toward Philip and snapped his fingers in his face, brining Philip out of his dreamlike state. He shook his head and blinked a few times.

“What happened? Where am I? What year is it?” Philip joked, a blush spreading across his face. He stood up stepped in front of you, scratching his cheek nervously. “You…you um, you look really…Wow…” He said passionately.

“Wow? Is that the proper adjective?” You asked, trying to ignore how hot your face felt with him staring at you. Why does he have to be so adorable?

“It is now…Because wow, you look incredible… Although I do have a complaint.” He crossed his arms and you raised an eyebrow

“Oh you do now?” You asked sarcastically.

“Yes, I don’t like your hair in your face. It makes it hard to see your eyes!”

#hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton fanfic #hamilton an american musical #hamilton au #time travel au #alexander hamilton #eliza schuyler #angelica schuyler #mulligan #lafayette #John Laurens #thomas jefferson #james madison #Philip Hamilton #philip x reader #Philip is a sweet bean #CAN WE GET BACK TO POLITICS

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dramallamadingdang · 7 years

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Ermahgerd, somanyreplies...

Mostly because I haven’t had time to sit and answer ‘em.

So! For @mrningbrd, @simblrkersil, @emeraldfalconsims, @simper-fi, @holleyberry, @vampireacademysims, @penig, @serabiet, @kayleigh-83, @getmygameon, @stinkyunicorn, @alexbgd, @fuzzyspork, @crystaldollhouse, and last, but certainly not least, @strangetomato...

mrningbrd replied to your post “Well, this is a pain in the booty...”

Im also having ACR issues even though i 100% finished the story. Same exact issues too

mrningbrd replied to your post “So I had a bit of a think...”

I think i fixed my acr problem. Did u try taking it out and then redownloading it and putting it back in? That fixed it for me

Yeah, I did try taking it out/redownloading/reinstalling. Multiple times. And nada. It’s so frustrating! I was kinda disheartened when you said it didn’t work with having played the story, but reassured when you got it working. :) I mean, I know it works because it worked just fine in my initial install, once the story was played. So, I’m hoping that’s the key. I think it must be, because there are some fundamental changes with how the story neighborhood works once the story is completed. If that’s the case, I’m hoping it’ll still work even though I started the freeplay scenario before doing the story.

So, I’m about halfway through the story. Hoping to finish it tonight with enough time to experiment in the other neighborhood. I’m encouraged by the fact that I peeked in the freeplay hood and the story rewards I’ve unlocked in the story so far were also available there. So *fingers crossed*.

simblrkersil replied to your post “So I had a bit of a think...”

Melissa Fancey, maybe? (IDK how you feel about her, but I love her XD horrifying flame pants and all)

It was between her and the adult Ivy Copur, actually! But in the end I went with Ivy because I’ve never had her as a playable before. :) I’m sure she’s thrilled to go through this torture.

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing?”

I think the next time someone asks me what my aesthetic is, I'll just direct them to this post. :P

It’s tough when you don’t fall into one box or another but instead cherrypick bits and bobs from all the available boxes in order to build your own wacky box. :) I think henceforth I’m going to call my game aesthetic “Mutant Hybrid FrankenSHTEEN.” *nods sagely*

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “So you’re stranded with seven other complete strangers on what may or...”

So I see overlay boxes work? Was not expecting that.

They do! At least the ones I installed do! (Male and female body hair and two tattoo boxes.) It’s likely because the game has the “heatstroke” overlay from Seasons. (And maybe the frozen one, too, but it’s sort of hard to freeze on a tropical island... :) ) Many things work, in fact, but some only after you’ve completed the story.

I’m still trying to figure out the game engine the thing uses because knowing that will make it easier to predict whether or not a TS2 mod will work and/or which version of a mod to try first. It’s either Seasons’s or OFB’s or maybe a hybrid of the two. But it also has some stuff from BV, like the pirate ship. Those are all just objects, though; the beach lots don’t have surf like BV beaches do. (Which is a shame because it’d be fun to have @maybesomethingdunno‘s surfing mod in it, but I’m 99.8% certain that won’t work. :) And even if it did, it’d look weird without surf. :) )

simper-fi replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

BABY CORRAL! I love it!

holleyberry replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

Haha! That is awesome.

Heh. It was one of those ideas “born” out of desperation. I had seven babies at the time, couldn’t afford cribs (But I decided early on that rock “fences” would be free, in order to create “rooms” on the lot, if needed), and no one could sleep on the lot with a baby laying on the ground. (Which is SOOOOOOO stupid and needs to be modded out.) Hence, baby corral. It works. For babies, anyway. :)

vampireacademysims replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

Lmaaao! Wow I'd go crazy, I cursed my life each time I got quadruplets, now imagine this XD

Well, it helps that there are 8 adults to share the load. :) Nine babies isn’t so bad with 8 adults around, as it’s almost a 1:1 ratio, so long as no one slacks. *side-eyes Orlando Centowski* It’s just that they can’t do much else besides baby/toddler care other than occasionally shoving something edible in their face and maybe taking a nap here and there. :) In a normal two-parent household where at least one has a job, I pull my hair out with just twins. Maybe I won’t, so much, after doing this, though...

penig replied to your post “Preggo Ben!”

At the volume there's about to be, it hardly matters anyhow - nearest person deals with whoever's howling.

Ah, but the problem is that they’re ALL howling at once. :) Basically, they all have to cry themselves to sleep, since there are no cribs to put them in. Well, I do have ONE crib now, actually. One crib for nine toddlers. They get rotated in and out of it. I could buy more now, but the toddlers are all going to age up soon -- and there’s no “selling back” according to the rules I’m using for this scenario -- so I think I might want to save the resources for other things. Like more leaf beds. Hopefully children can use those.... And maybe some hammocks for the adults. I think they’ve earned them. I shudder to think of the hell it must’ve been hell to sleep on the ground in the third trimester...

serabiet replied to your post “In this Castaway scenario I’m playing, the castaway’d townies must use...”

why am i getting incoming village of the damned vibes off this development

It is kind of like that, actually... *laugh* Thankfully the lots in the game are big. Lots of a room for a tribe of the damned children.

kayleigh-83 replied to your photoset “When you spend hours on stuff that’s purely, uselessly decorative....”

Ahh you to so much more trouble than I do! I wish I had the patience to plan it out and apply it. My strategy for making my neighbourhood look better is essentially MOAR TREES!!!

More trees is my go-to, too! :) But actually, I don’t plan this sort of thing. It’s more like, “Hey, that lot opened the Athletic career! Now they need someplace to play.” *plops down baseball diamond in random spot* Then it’s, “Hmmmm, that looks really out of context. *moves baseball diamond close to lot that unlocked the career* Then it’s, “If people are gonna come see the game, they’ll need some place to park their car.” *builds adjacent completely useless deco parking lot* Then it’s, “I’m envisioning cracked windshields. Plus, how’re they gonna tell if it’s a home run?” *plots strategy to put lots under baseball diamond just so that fences can be built.* And on and on.

It’d be so much easier if I could just plop down the hood deco and be done with it, but I...just...can’t....

getmygameon replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

Very neat :) you're really making that game your bitch aren't you? LOL jk XD

I’m tryin’! Although lately, it’s more like I’m the game’s bitch, jumping through hoops trying to make things work the way I want. :)

stinkyunicorn replied to your photoset “Komei has a “job” as a hunter, so he’s off the lot for a chunk of...”

"Hard row to hoe in this scenario"... You're a poet and didn't know it. I'm enjoying all your Castaway posts!

I’m glad you’re enjoying them! :) I’m having a blast playing it. It’s a great change-of-pace for when I get in one of those “I don’t feel like loading TS2″ moods. And it’s like instant gratification because the game loads instantly, so I can go in and out of the game to screw around with things and test out bizarre, wild hair ideas really easily.

And it was totally accidental poetry; I didn’t even realize it rhymed beyond “row to hoe” until you pointed it out. :)

alexbgd replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

a zoo with sims..

Preeeeeety much, yes. :)

holleyberry replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

Come on Goopy. Sandy's there too. Go after her man.

I totally thought he would! They double-bolt! They’re the only possible pairing with more than one bolt, I think. But.... Sandy goes for Ben Long and Goopy seems to like Andrea Hogan best. Go figure. They seem to be each other’s second-faves, though. And it’s not like it really matters since it’s basically one big polyamorous clan. Which is exactly what I wanted.

fuzzyspork replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

At least those sand mites he just acquired in his nether crevisce will keep him company. XD

Poor Goopy. Only the lice and the stink bugs love him. :) Well, OK, that’s not true. Everyone loves him except Marisa Bendett; those two are oil and water, apparently.

crystaldollhouse replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

This looks so fun :D

It’s realllllllllllllly fun. Very addictive, too. And beyond being fun to play, it’s really fun to experiment with it, too, to see what’ll work and what won’t.

strangetomato replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

I agree with Fuzzy. this makes me want to play Castaway again too. Maybe I'll start loading that up again as a "just for fun" game.

DO EEEEET! You know you want to. Come to the dark side...

fuzzyspork replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

You make me want to track down a copy of Castaway! I'll forever kick myself for not buying the one I saw at a thrift store last year. D;

*cough*games4theworld*cough* I pirated mine, and that site is nice. (No creepy porn ads, at least! :) ) The game’s not legitimately for sale new and unused anymore, so unless you can find a used copy, pirating is actually more ethical than paying more than retail to some shady online “store” that doesn’t have the right to sell it for those prices. *gets very irked at “stores” who ignore retail agreements* Either way, EA doesn’t get any money out of it, so...eh. :)

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “Drat! Dang! DOUBLE DRAT!”

This is probably not helpful at all, but I just discovered that in TS2 there's a settings option to add the Pets unlocks from codes shared with friends. I suppose it's too much to hope that they've done that for CS as well.

Not that I know of. I searched around a lot and read lots of “game strategy/hint” websites, and didn’t find anything about it. Buuuuuut, as it turns out I’m playing the story, anyway. In the end, you’re kind of forced to, at least if you ever want to use any of the electricity-dependent items in it. I’m just kind of blitzing through it to collect up all the story rewards, including some I missed on my first play-through.

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “corruptuslocus: Also ACR 1 vs ACR 2 I know ACR 2 has more features...”

I only use V.1, and the only thing I know of to miss is autonomous proposals and go steadys. Have you seen this much with V.2, Icad?

Last I heard, twojeffs never got the auto proposals/go-steadys working in V.2, anyway. V.2′s kind of an eternal beta, as I understand it. The biggest differences between the two is that in v.2 you have far more control over the settings on a Sim level, so it’s much MUCH more customizable than v.1 is. It also has some settings that I really like, like setting a Sim’s “ideal family size” which further moderates whether or not a pair will try for baby. That being said, you have to fiddle with those settings manually on a Sim-by-Sim basis to get the full effect, which can be tedious unless you’re a person like me who gets off on tedium. So, like I said, which version is “better” really depends on how much control you want to have and how much effort you’re willing to put into it. I like v.2 a lot better, personally, but it requires AL/M&G, so I can’t use it in Castaway.

#mrningbrd #simblrkersil #emeraldfalconsims #simper-fi #holleyberry #vampireacademysims #penig #serabiet #kayleigh-83 #getmygameon #stinkyunicorn #alexbgd #fuzzyspork #crystaldollhouse #strangetomato #replies #lots and lots of replies #because i like doing them :)

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