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steddiewithachance · 1 year

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"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

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angel-of-the-moons · 5 months

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Small Surprises

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader

TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff

A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)

Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho

EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!

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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.

And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.

But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.

That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.

Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.

She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...

This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.

"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."

Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."

Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.

"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.

"They don't look right!" She complained.

"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.

The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.

He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.

But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.

"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"

Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"

"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.

"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."

'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.

"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"

Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.

"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.

"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."

"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.

Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.

"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.

"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.

"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.

"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"

The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.

Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.

He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.

Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.

"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.

"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.

"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."

The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"

"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.

The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.

You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.

Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...

Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.

Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.

"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"

Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!

"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.

"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.

"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.

"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"

Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.

You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.

"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.

"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.

Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...

"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.

"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."

You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.

"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.

"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.

His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."

"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.

"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"

"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.

"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.

"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.

"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.

"Hippo Lady?"

"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"

"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.

"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."

"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.

"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!

What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.

That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.

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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.

You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.

And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.

Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.

You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"

You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.

One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.

His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.

He did make out the name "Steven".

"Uh--" He said awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".

"Uh..."

"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.

"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.

"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.

"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.

"You..."

'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.

"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.

"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.

"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.

Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.

"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."

"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.

Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.

Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.

"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."

"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.

"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"

Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.

'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.

"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.

Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.

"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."

"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."

"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.

"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.

"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.

"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."

"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.

He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.

"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.

Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."

"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.

Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"

"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.

"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."

'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.

Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.

'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.

'Pot, meet kettle...'

'Touché...'

"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.

"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."

"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."

"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.

"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...

'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'

Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...

"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.

"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."

"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."

The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.

'Wow...'

'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.

Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.

"You okay?" You ask him.

"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."

You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.

"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.

"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.

'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.

'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'

Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.

Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.

And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.

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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.

One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.

He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.

But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.

And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.

He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...

All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.

And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.

You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.

He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.

Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--

Jake's hands stopped knitting.

Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.

When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...

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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.

She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.

"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"

"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.

"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"

You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.

And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.

In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.

He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?

And wow! So close by, too!

Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.

"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.

But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.

Then, he looked up.

You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.

You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.

"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.

"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:

Hi :)

The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.

Hello

You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.

You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.

Steven or Marc?

He smiled at you and scribbled back.

Jake

Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!

They've told me a lot about you, too.

"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.

"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".

You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.

You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.

"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.

You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.

That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.

Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.

He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.

He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".

That was how you met Jake Lockley.

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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.

But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?

It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)

You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.

You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.

It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.

The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.

For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...

They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...

But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.

Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.

That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.

You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...

"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.

You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...

But you decided to call instead.

That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...

♫"Lonely is a man,

Without looove~"♫

'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.

'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.

Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...

Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.

"H-Hello..."

"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.

'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.

'Busted.' Jake almost sang.

You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?

And then there's the phone!

Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.

You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.

Would this make you both the bad and good cop?

You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.

"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."

Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.

"Okay..." He peeped.

'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.

'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.

"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.

You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"

Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...

"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.

Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.

"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"

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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?

Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.

That would shut him up for a little while, surely.

Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).

You hesitated, at first... But...

They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.

Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.

Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.

But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.

Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.

As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.

You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.

"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.

"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."

"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.

Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.

"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"

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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.

Yeah, you knew how that story ended.

But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.

Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.

After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.

He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.

You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.

God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.

And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?

Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.

"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.

Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."

You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.

Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.

Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.

"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.

"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.

She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."

Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.

He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.

"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.

"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"

"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.

"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.

"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."

As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.

"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.

When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.

The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...

But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.

You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.

Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.

"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"

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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.

They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.

You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.

Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.

It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.

Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.

But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.

"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.

"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.

"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"

He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.

Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.

Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.

"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"

He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.

"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.

His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.

"G'night daddy."

He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.

He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.

You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.

"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I..." He said, his voice breaking.

You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.

It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...

"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."

Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...

He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.

He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.

'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.

'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.

"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.

"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.

"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."

Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.

"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."

"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.

You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.

"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.

"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.

Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.

"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."

"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.

Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.

You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"

She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.

"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.

"There's a bird-man in my room."

#moon knight #moon boys #moon boys x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector x reader #marc spector #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley

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ur-fav-inactive-writer · 1 year

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 ____'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...

(A/N: Does not include Five)

𝑵𝒐. 1 , 𝑳𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 , 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒚

girl next door trope

knew you ever since childhood

loves you to death

so soft with you

he's such a gentlemen

pulls out chairs for you and holds doors for you

butttttt you have to deal with his daddy issues

he always comes to you crying whenever something happens

a sweetheart with you though

he's very awkward at comforting you

he likes to cook for you

he's such a good chef ngl

he loves cuddling

he literally is always cuddling you

likes to be big spoon, don't get me wrong he needs comfort

but

the idea of being able to protect you by being big spoon is so validating to him

he's too big to be little spoon anyway

that is literally his one purpose

if he found you during the 60s or something and he had to leave you he'd never stop talking about you

"I miss (Y/N)..."

"(Y/N) would've liked this.."

"Luther, they're gone."

fml sobbing why did I write that

anyway his one purpose is to love and protect you

𝑵𝒐. 2 , 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒈𝒐 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏

very jealous

if he sees you with some guy who is flirting with you he will literally glare daggers into him

he will then proceed to walk over to you, sling an arm around your waist and pull you in for a kiss

he doesn't give a shit if anyone's watching

he talks shit about him siblings to you

"Luther thinks he's so much better than all of us-"

"Diego chill out."

oh my god when Viktor wrote that book

was

SEETHING

(no hate to viktor , viktor is baby)

the shit talk increased so much

he would not shut up about it

help diego would be such a simp for you

like I'm not joking

pure simp

in his eyes you are sweet innocent summer child who can do absolutely no wrong

stabbed someone?

pfft it was probably just an accident

he brings you to visit grace

omg it would be so cute

grace absolutely adores you

she always makes sly comments about how you and diego should get married

he goes redder than the colour red

he wouldn't tell anyone but he secretly loves the idea

he loves kissing your forehead

it's literally his favourite place

you and klaus are besties

he has to deal with you when klaus gets you drunk

"oh. my. god. im upside down."

"(Y/N), you're standing upright. we need to go home.

"... no"

he never gets drunk

fun squasher

he says his body's a temple

boring

youre his nurse

he always comes home injured and gets you to patch him up

he finds it hot

yes, he's bleeding out. yes, he finds you playing nurse to him hot.

priorities ig

he's so soft with you

would kill for you

he probably has

𝑵𝒐. 3 , 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓

(refuse to make her evil so s3 allison will not be mentioned)

definitely gets you an acting job in one of her films

she buys you the fanciest stuff

literally you two have the best closet

and you have your own personal stylist

bc why not

you do interviews with her all the time

fans absolutely adore you

there's so many paparazzi pictures of you two together and they eat it up

especially if they include you being doting to claire even though she's not biologically your kid

omg her fans would absolutely love that

so would allison though

if she saw you reading claire a story or smth

her heart would just melt

she might cry ngl

her two favourite ppl in the world just being adorable

you're the cool parent to claire

both of you go to fancy parties and are the hottest couple

"Allison! (Y/N)! How does it feel knowing you're America's favourite couple!"

you're so flattered

allisons just like: yeah ik lmao

she kisses you a lot in public

she knows damn well people are gonna get pictures of it but she loves it

you watch her films with her a lot

if its a particularly old one, you make fun of it with her

"oh my god allison. why do you look like that."

"IT WAS THE STYLE."

she then proceeds to also make fun of it

you, her and claire go on lots of fancy days out

you may as well considering you're RICH

luther gets a bit jealous sometimes

you help her with her therapy

you comforted her when she custody of claire

you also fought alongside her to get her back

as soon as you do you're happier than ever

you are literally just the cutest family ahdhahfhaj

but then she loses you again when she goes to the 60's

she made it her life's purpose to get back to 2019 with the love of her life and claire

as soon as she accepts that it could take years upon years to reunite with you and claire she finds ray

she knew you'd be happy

but she also knew

she'd never truly move on

omg help I'm gonna start sobbing why do I do this to myself

𝑵𝒐. 4 , 𝑲𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒔 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆́𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

you help get him off of drugs

ben adores you

he likes that you're there to help klaus

and that you don't ever drop to his level and just do drugs with him

he also likes how you never shit talk him when klaus starts ranting about how annoying he is

klaus is a huge fan of PDA

he is obsessed with the idea of holding your hands

he is constantly touching you in one way or the other

whether it be holding your hand

or simply having a hand on your leg

it matters to him

and that's why you love it

sweet baby boi has so much love to give

he likes being little spoon

he just loves being in your arms

it helps with his nightmares

diego also approves of you

you've saved him from having to go out and look for klaus in the middle of the night in fear he's high or smth

klaus rants to you every so often

quite often you have to help him through panic attacks

he loves you sm

like he is so lovesick

if anyone were to ever ask about you

oh boy

he gets this lovesick look in his eyes

and then starts rambling about how enamored he is with you and how great you are

it's adorable

he's very clingy but in the best way possible

he matches outfits with you

never a dull moment with you two

often it's you trying to solve whatever problem klaus has somehow managed to conjure up

and klaus just being a devious little shit

but it doesn't matter cause you love him

sometimes he questions why you love him

it makes you cry whenever he asks

"(Y/N/N)..."

you hum in response

"why do you love me...?"

sobbing and you start listing all the reasons

and then he's sobbing

and then you're both sobbing

but anyway

he loves dancing with you

he doesn't care what song

it could be some crappy pop song that's somehow in the top hits

or some classical music that's centuries old

he really doesn't care

he likes spinning you around

he loves seeing how happy it makes you

klaus asks you the most random stuff at 3am

"... (Y/N"

"yeah"

"lawyers hope you get sued, doctors hope you get sick, cops hope you're criminal, mechanics hope you have car trouble, but only a thief wishes prosperity for you."

"... go to bed"

"never"

you poor thing

you never get any sleep because of how chatty he is at night

he hates being away from you

if he isn't near you he will start whining to ben

𝑵𝒐. 6 , 𝑩𝒆𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓

omg it took him ages to admit his crush on you

he's been crushing on you since you were like 12

when did he admit it?

when he was 18.

he likes reading to you

he loves seeing you get all relaxed at the sound of his voice

it makes him fall even more in love with you

he likes PDA but not that much

just a simple touch is enough for him

this boy blushes so easily

you'll brush his hand and he'll turn so pink

sometimes you'll just be sitting there doing nothing of note

and he'll be staring at you in adoration

he's in absolute awe of you

thinks you're the most adorable thing ever

much like diego

thinks you can do no wrong

you're his sweet, precious girl

he knows everything about you off by heart

from your favourite colour

to your mums favourite song

you thinks it's endearing

he loves holding your hand

playing with your hair is one of his favourite things to do

don't get me wrong he likes when you do it to him

but he much prefers when he does it to you

he finds it really relaxing

he's usually pretty closed off about his childhood but he trusts you

sometimes when something that triggers a bad memory happens he goes to you to rant

he doesn't know what he'd do without you

you're literally his life

omg

when you kiss his nose

he just melts

it's the most adorable thing

he's so good at cheering you up

no matter if its something minor or major

he's always amazing at getting you back to your usual self

he loves taking you on cute little dates

he reads you poetry he wrote

omg he deffo writes a piece of poetry about how much he loves you

omg help this is so cute

overall he's a simp

and it suits him

𝑵𝒐. 7 , 𝑽𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒓 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑽𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏

viktors a sweetheart

he gives you private violin shows

he also rehearses in front of you to see what you think

he tries to get you to critique him

if you don't play violin, you probably just say its all perfect

if you do, you probably give him little tips on areas to work on

you go on little dates to watch the sunset

he has to be little spoon

he just needs some comfort

just needs to be wrapped in your arms and feel safe

poor guy has been through so much

sometimes he gets mad memories of the incident with allison and you have to calm him down

he wouldn't get jealous

he'd just get rlly insecure :(

if he saw someone flirting with you he'd just get a bit sad

he would think the worst and think that you would want to leave him for them :(((

poor bby

opens up to you about how bad his childhood was

sometimes he regrets writing the book

you have to reassure him that it's okay and they don't hate him for it

sure, they did, but not anymore

klaus thinks you two are adorable together

you've got quite a few polaroids of the two of you together

he has them on those little string lights above your bed

he keeps at least one in his pocket at all times

he does that thing where you check if you still have something valuable and it's so cute for some reason

and when he checks and its still there it puts this small little smile on his face

omg it's just shfjsjfjsjf

you take care of him when he's sick

he hates it bc he feels bad that you have to take care of him

but deep down he loves it and will treasure those memories forever

but he'd do the exact same thing if you were sick

whenever you buy him something he always feels bad if he didn't get you something

"Vik it's okay! you didn't have to get me anything,"

"NO ITS NOT I NEED TO GO GET YOU SOMETHING RIGHT NOW."

it's absolutely adorable

Taglist: @book-place

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sanakimohara · 5 months

Text

“Pretty When You Cry” B.C.

“Although she is alone…she knows the truth.” + “If you think I’m pretty lay your hands on me…”

Summary: Chan as a yandere. Borderline stalking type of yandere to be exact.

WARNING: MDNI, cursing, smut obviously, mentions of kidnapping, and cnc…among other things.

A/N: this was a request and it caught my interest so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did while thinking/writing about it.

—————————————————————

A knife could slice right through the thick tension between you and Chan right now.

Not because his eyes were glaring daggers straight into your Bambi like stare or that you were purposely keeping your distance from him by sticking close to the nearest exit. No, the reason was much more complicated.

You. More specifically, you assuming Chan wouldn’t be jealous or possessive of you.

Now, he had you all alone to ‘talk’ but you knew that just meant your night was about to riddled with consequences from him. So, planted yourself near the door -a useless precaution you took to feel safer.

Little did you know, he’d locked it the moment you wandered into his room. You came to him under the impression he just wanted to show you something he’d been working on and was only slightly aware of his true intentions.

Now, you wished more than ever that you’d paid more attention to your small suspicions, but it was too late for you to leave without having to go through him. Chan made sure of that by pocketing his hotel room key card.

“Chan, please..” you started to reason with him, voice trembling slightly as you spoke, and your body involuntarily pressing against the locked door as he stood up abruptly. His face was unnervingly expressionless but his eyes were piercing, swirling with all the intensity of emotions you’d become familiar with.

Jealousy, lust, and possessiveness. Anger was present too -steadily growing the longer he replayed the image of you flirting with some random staff member during their concert.

“Let me ask you something,” Chan was now inches from you, his entire body dwarfing yours in comparison, and his voice shallow with simmering rage. He really was terrifying when upset and with envy added into the mix he was downright evil sometimes.

Shamefully, it turned you on more than anything else. Being afraid of him, what he might do you, and how he’d take his anger out on you. It was so wrong for you to be wet already, merely in Chan’s presence, and forced to stay there until he decided to let you go.

Which was never, in his opinion.

“Do you like pissing me off?,” he nearly growls the question and your tummy does several slips hearing the rasp carry through to his accent. “N-no, I don’t Chan-“ you answer him carefully, face heating up as your fear amps up to new heights when he grabs your jaw with one hand and places the other above your head to lean forward on. “Yes, you fucking do. Why else would you go around whoring yourself out to other men then?” Chan taunts you with a faux smile, raising his brows slightly to add to his condescending tone, and you huff softly in return.

“Channie, I promise we were just-“ you’re cut off again as his hand on your face falls to your throat, gripping it tight until you have to hiss in a breath, and cling to his wrist with both of your small hands. Chan holds you there, counting the seconds until he sees tears prick your lidded eyes, and only then does he loosen his hold on you.

“I don’t care what you were doing, little one. This is the last time you’ll ever try me, understood?” You could barely hear him over your heart drumming your ears from being choked so ruthlessly seconds ago, and when you don’t answer him immediately Chan takes that as a sign of defiance on your end.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, dark eyes filling with a new emotion as he watched you struggle to breathe with his hand still putting pressure on your throat. You already looked so broken in for him, probably bound to drop to your knees if he let you go, and your pathetic attempts to wriggle out of his grasp never failed to amuse him.

Chan would never let you go, you knew that, but still tried with all your might to fight him off -even if you’d been craving his affection the whole time.

It was part of your dynamic. Chan could drag you through hell and back, you’d insist on running away, but ultimately fail and let him do whatever he wanted to you.

“I think you need a little reminder of who you belong to,” Chan hums lowly, passing his thumb over the fullness of your bottom lip before slowly pushing it into your warm mouth. “Suck,” he commands, pressing down on your tongue slightly as you start to do exactly that. Quiet whimpers vibrate through your throat as you lick and suck on his thumb, doe eyes sparkling with need as he watched you obey his every word.

You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans, the length of it pressed right against your pelvis and lower stomach, and you were tempted to reach down and palm him just for the hell of it. Unfortunately, he’d quickly pull your hand away, reminding you that “you’re not allowed to touch daddy until I say you can…”

You hated that rule but knew the consequences for breaking it would only leave you edged to the brink of delirium and his cum plowed deep into your sore womb.

Chan was certainly not the man to tease -unless you were prepared to endure the corresponding punishment.

So, you took pleasure in sucking on his fingers, imagining it was cock instead, and continuously drooling on his digits until he removed them. You coughed softly as he did, chest heaving, and eyes still watering as they refocused on his face.

Chan couldn’t help but chuckle at your disoriented expression, always so neat and sweet in public, but behind closed doors and in his view you just looked like a love sick pup waiting to be used.

You half expected him to push you down to your knees, already accepting your fate of him using your throat as his personal cock sleeve, but Chan had other ideas.

He closed the distance between you two, ducking his head to capture your spit slick lips with his plump ones. You moaned as he pushed his tongue past yours, taking his time to explore your mouth, and swallowing the short and desperate noises you let out in between each kiss.

Your hold on his veiny wrist and arm traced up to his neck, gently massaging the muscle there before your fingers tangled through the hair at the back of his head. Chan grunted into your mouth when lightly pulled on his dark hair, “I should’ve fucked you in front of him,” he mumbles harshly against your lips, hands gripping your hips to turn you around in one quick motion.

A small yelp flies from your chest as your frontside meets the cold surface, Chan’s body weighing down on yours as his hands slid from your waist to the closure of your black high waisted shorts. He started to undo the tedious buttons and zipper while tracing his lips down the right side your neck. You whined as he littered mark after mark on your unblemished skin, his hands now hooked on the sides of your shorts to pull them off, and his heavy breaths causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“You would’ve liked that, yeah? Daddy fucking you in front of everyone so they’ll never forget who you belong to?” His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, tone bordering on desperation as you whined and reached a hand up to caress one side of his face. “Yes,” you moan loudly, finally shedding your usual timid nature to fully enjoy the moment, and Chan smirked against skin hearing your delicate voice reach a new octave.

“You’re such a slut, and you’re all mine too,” he muses, slipping one hand right between your shaking thighs, and delving past the fabric of your underwear to cup your mound. “Ahm…stop! No..!” You half moan and half whimper as he takes in the soaking expanse of your cunt.

It was embarrassing. You were definitely more than eager to have him touch you and now he knew it.

Chan laughed dryly at your pathetic attempt to refuse him, fingers sliding up and down your folds to collect as much of your cum as possible before swirling those same fingers around your clit. “You want me to stop? That’s not what your body wants, now is it, baby?” He didn’t need you to answer, your broken cries were enough for him, and the dazed look in your eyes only intensified as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“…s-stop p-please….ill be good…just-just let me go…” you try again to win your freedom, voice cracking as a few tears began to trickle down your flushed cheeks. His attention to your clit had migrated to your entrance, prodding it open with two thick fingers before he shoved them into you as deep as possible. “Fuck ..,” Chan inhaled sharply from how tight your cunt was, already clenching around his fingers like you’d break if he put anymore in.

He might’ve came right then and there if he hadn’t already built his stamina up but his cock still twitched just from the constant pulsing of your wet core.

“Daddy, s’ too much....” you weakly called for his attention, panting as he curled, pumped, and twirled his fingers inside you. He reached every spot that made you see stars and even had you circling your hips to the pace of his hand. “I don’t care,” Chan responded gruffly, back to marking your neck and shoulder as he sped the pace of his fingers up.

You choked on a string of moans, face contrasting into a mindless picture of pleasure as he abused your cunt. “Nooo.. ah!” You tried your best to keep protesting, yet he only added to your torture by slowly circling his thumb on your clit . Now, you were at a loss for words, head emptying of any thoughts besides cumming on his hand.

You were incredibly close to the edge and Chan noticed from just one look at your beautifully lost and delirious stare. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, eyes rolling slightly as he brought you to your climax with precise pumps into your dripping cunt. “Cumming…” you whimper into the crook of his neck, letting the smell of his cologne fill your head as the knot in your tummy snapped. He groaned as you gushed on his hand, making a mess in your lacey underwear as well, and watched you rock your hips to ride your high out.

Chan smiled at the sight, in love with how messy and careless you could be when he touched you. “You’re gonna cum like this on my cock next, princess…” he announced it like a command and all you could muster was a shaky exhale followed with a lazy smile as you felt him drag his fingers out of your sticky entrance.

“You’ll never forget what it means to be owned by me again, baby girl..”

—————————————————————

Should I make a PT2? I kind of already did hehehe….we will see how PT1 goes first, yeah? 🖤

BONUS CONTENT +

(Sorry not sorry for this…🖤)

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #bang chan #bang chris #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #chan skz #christopher bang #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #chan x female reader #SoundCloud #Spotify

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sunlighthroughthe-ashes · 26 days

Text

wow, this episode was wild from start to finish — the makgeolli scene was ludicrous, sol's elder brother is annoying, and HOW DARE they end it on such a cliffhanger!!!

that said, i LOVED the parallels of sol switching the fan on for sunjae while he was sleeping just like he did for her in previous episodes (it was such a lovely, subtle bit of cuteness) — him unconsciously covering her hand with his own was an added bonus.

that boy is aware of her EVEN IN HIS SLEEP.

i think it's a testament to byeon woo-seok's acting that he's able to communicate the tenderness of his feelings for sol so well with just his eyes — i keep mentioning this, but there's a literal reverence in his gaze when he looks at sol that's simply uncanny. his whole face just softens when he looks at her!!!

kim hye-yoon matches this well with the way her face lights up when she's watching sun-jae — her smile is pure RADIANCE when she's looking at him.

there's such genuine respect and adoration in her expression that it just warms my heart.

sunjae confessing his feelings all in a rush was such a bittersweet experience for me — first love is often so sweet but also overpowering and bewildering — you can see from the beginning of the story how helpless sunjae is in the wake of his emotions for sol.

he put her into music and made her memory eternal!

having said that, i was NOT a fan of the way sol rejected sunjae at the hospital. i understand her reasons (since she's uncertain over her fate after the day of her accident / her having to return to the future) but she didn't have to be that harsh.

the poor boy even said "don't be so cold" 🥺

and the fact that she realized she was his first love and the song was about her — only to get kidnapped right after: EVIL move on the writers' part.

i think she'll manage to get out of this without getting paralyzed again (maybe with sunjae's help) — that's why the promo showed her walking in the future.

i know a little about the webtoon, so i'm pretty sure sunjae DOES remember her, he's just behaving coldly because she rejected him / or because after the accident past!sol returned and didn't remember him and he distanced himself ever since then.

either of those reasons would also explain his refusing not to do the movie that sol's presumably directing.

as far as sol trying to stop him from coming to the bridge — she probably realized something to do with his death. it might be related to her (and the taxi-driver) so she's trying to stop sunjae from meeting her and putting everything into motion again.

i think the first time she went into the past, it was to remember sunjae, the second was to prevent her accident, and the third will be her finally stopping sunjae's death.

hate to say it, but i think sol will have to go through sunjae dying again before she goes back into the past for the third and final time (probably when they're in university) and saves him at last.

she better save him and make sure they have a happy ending, otherwise this viewer is going to become a LOVELY HATER. XD

NOW HOW WILL I SURVIVE UNTIL NEXT MONDAY??? 😭

#lovely runner #tvn lovely runner #byeon woo seok #kim hye yoon #tvn drama #tvn #kdrama #kdrama lover #rom com kdrama #fantasy kdrama

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theredofoctober · 4 months

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RUMPLESTILTSKIN— An Oliver Quick/Reader Saltburn DarkFic

Pairing: Oliver Quick/You, Oliver Quick/Reader (no gender specified, terms like pretty are used though just to mention)

Synopsis: Oliver finds You, the awkward guest at his birthday party, and takes what his dark heart desires.

Trigger Warnings (PLEASE READ): noncon, blood play, Oliver just being evil

Fic under the cut, keep reading

"Who are you, then?"

It was the small man that said it, the one with the slurring Nothern accent and eyes like ice picks, palely sharp.

You'd seen him swaying on the outer edge of the party, seeming both drunk and far too sober, all at once.

His face was odd, flat, and sleek, like a trickster in a German folk story: thief of children, bringer of gold.

You hated the boy in a moment, drawing back from him against a trellis, your hands wrapped fast through the slats. His eyes made you wish you'd drunk rather less than you had done, silver as scissor blades in the swelling night.

"I'm one of Venetia's friends," you said, though you knew Felix more, and Farleigh rather better than you liked to. "You don't know me. Who are you?"

The boy stepped around a plant pot, his balance the measure of sobriety. He wore deer antlers with an open-chested white suit, embroidered with leaves, the dress of a more handsome man. Only the slopes of his cheekbones, the soft mouth were beautiful.

His eyes made an autopsy of you. There was nothing in them but wanting, a starving colour. An absence of it.

You would have turned to run, only there was nothing then to fly from that made sense.

"I'm Oliver," said the young man. "It's my birthday party. Felix's family arranged it all for me."

"Happy birthday," you said, at once, a reflex.

You wished that he'd go away, that he would edge into the maze like a shadow thrown by the sun, and meld with the dark of the leaves beyond. Anything but approach as he did then, his compact form eating of the air between you with carnivorous haste.

He was slight enough that you thought you might push him down or aside with little effort, but the poise of him, as delicate as a barber's blade, gave you pause. He'd cut you if you touched him, you thought. Something would happen, and you would run crying as you had from a dozen birthday celebrations as a child, unwanted.

He brought that old vulnerability up out of you, somehow, though he hadn't yet done much but broach the most innocent of smalltalk.

"How come you're over here, on your own?" asked Oliver, his head at a sympathetic incline. "You're too pretty for that. You know that, don't you?"

His voice was a sing-song croon, then, all silken menace. He was trying to charm you, you knew that, yet you saw as though through the beads of a brothel doorway the hunger in him, the appetite of worlds.

You glanced right and left, realising, with an awful start, how very drunk you were, swaying and stupid with it.

"I needed some fresh air," you said, with a high, braying laugh— Oliver half-smirked at the sound of it, knowing its falseness, knowing your fear. "All that bloody champagne went right to my head."

"You'll need someone to look after you, then," said Oliver, and then he uttered your name, making a baleful ditty of its syllables.

How had he known it? Had he known it all along?

You'd glimpsed him watching you, before, an empty glass in hand, attaching himself to your heels like a stoat after a rabbit, all lithe cunning on the hunt. Likely he'd heard your name then, as Felix had bent down to kiss your cheek, all affable golden looks. Heard it, and slipped it into the pocketbook of his mind to tear free, when it was needed.

Your name was pretty on Oliver's tongue, sugar, and ribbon, and stained glass, as apt to break. Happily you'd have taken the pieces and cast them all out into the riverbed, have gone nameless rather than hear him speak it again.

"You don't know anyone else here, do you?" asked Oliver, and there was the word again, no longer ribbon, but rough as a noose, strangling as he came closer still. "Just the Catton family. Something in common, me and you."

You lurched vaguely to the right, and Oliver's arm came up against the trellis, gently, a tender trap.

"You're lonely," he said. "Haven't you always been, though?"

His face was close enough for you to note the punctuation of a mole on his right cheek, the lines at his brow, the riddled literature of him. What he saw in yours was a portal to the past, all features from the nervous mouth to the twitching eyelids telling of a once bullied child, an outcast brought in through charity from the cold.

"Go away, Oliver," you said, bravely. "I want to be alone. I can't breathe."

That was true enough. You were stifled in your plastic wings and ill-fitting garments, sweating and airless, almost wanting to be sick.

Oliver drew his face nearer, and your throat closed to the breadth of a lock in your dread of him, of those ink spill eyes.

"I don't want you to breathe," he said. "Not right now."

Then he darned his lips to yours, their heat, their softness like the death of summer blooms, and you pressed back into the trellis so hard that you thought the wood might break, so brittle did it seem.

You brought up your hands to battle his shoulders, only for them to be joined with his, your fingers tangling, a torsion of slick skin and bone.

There were no thoughts that survived the cruelty of Oliver's embrace, the insistence of his compact strength, the length of tongue, of arousal under clothing, at your thigh. You wanted to snap free of him like a spell, but he kissed you until your fight withdrew in sight of its fair winner.

No one came close enough to see you, or if they did they thought you drunken lovers, poised to consummate your pash against the fence.

At last Oliver moved back his head, the reflection of the night's obsidian in his mortuary eyes.

"Let me go," you whispered. "I don't want to do this. I don't want you."

"Well, I want you, though," said Oliver, with an authority that frightened you in its unshifting weight. "And since nobody else here does, what's the point in saying no?"

His hands, little and wicked, wore their way under clammy layers of clothes. In all the heat they were almost cold, dragging from you a series of ragged gasps that were lost in the revelling darkness.

You wished the wings at your back were feathered, those of swans; they'd have broken the bones in his arm and you out of this, far lovelier a transportation than the sticky taxi that would bear you home in the hours to come.

Yet had such pretty things hung from your back this beast named Oliver would have bitten them off and flossed their quills through his teeth, you knew it.

He touched you until his findings were of stolen treasure, watching your every tendon solidify to strands of stone through the art of such fell grief.

"You weren't what I came looking for tonight, you know," he said. "But you're mine, anyway."

You didn't answer, imagined any word drowned like a cat in the depths of him.

Oliver stepped into you with a dancing softness and kissed you again, sucking a plum welt into your lower lip, breaking it between his teeth to blood. Again you struck your hands against him, but Oliver, with liquid instinct, pushed your arms back through the apertures in the trellis, caring little for the splinters in your wrists, if at all.

Crucifixion could not be so painful, so martyring as your capture beneath him.

"Oliver," you said, and he smiled.

"That's me. The birthday boy. And what does the birthday boy get?"

He opened your costume with the hook of four fingers, touched the bruised rose of princely lips to your ear.

His breath was smoke, and champagne, and stolen blood.

"I get what I want," he said, and then his cock was an arrow at the heart of your waiting horror, his slight hips a harp played against you, moving in the strum of entry, into the gold he made of your pain.

You screamed, and the sound was devoured by the bacchanal night. Oliver took you slowly, with patient intelligence, feeling each trembling agony of your body and twisting it, by sorcery, into something else. His eyes were a witch's orbs through which he knew you, psychic, solipsistic—

You were ivy about the wand of him, a thing that would poison the man, were he not immune to its effects. He fucked you as though he thought it romantic, somehow, this violence in a friend's pungent garden, the scent of flowers and trodden grass and arousal a perfume to woo.

There was blood on both of your faces, on his bare chest, under the blazer. It frightened you, suddenly, a tarot spread of death in the summer night—

Your panic, the heaviness of lingering champagne, the attack like Zeus upon a swan; all of it made you limp, in Oliver's grip.

He paused in his taking of you to hold you upright, studying your face under the Midas yellow of a nearby lamp.

"Stand up straight for me, now," he said. "And look at me. Look at me."

He tapped your cheek— not a slap, far too soft for that, as though the concern in the vicious gossamer in his voice was real.

"You want me to make you feel good about yourself. Need me. Don't you?"

"No," you said, but as Oliver kissed you again, and a firework shrieked somewhere against your eardrum, you lost what temporary power you'd had to resist him.

Like a spindled sleeper you endured his lovemaking, swallowed his tongue like a precious key. Your body was a pulse in deep water, stirred by hands and cock into a dripping arc.

Oliver moaned against your tattered lips, his arms about you in embrace. The heat of him would follow you, afterwards, the haunting of his lust's smoke from dream to dream.

He moved away from you, aided you in pulling your arms back through the trellis. For a moment he tried to hold you, his murmuring at your hair, its comfort indistinct.

Then, as you ripped him from you like the segment of a rotten apple he wiped himself clean of your blood; the rag he used was something torn from your garments in the fury of his love, a token of it. A thread from the maze.

You sat down in the grass and stared up at Oliver, seeking some answer. Assistance from the breaker of will.

"Go home," he said, at last. "Felix doesn't want you. And now—"

Oliver shook his head, and the peat fire of his eyes was of the underworld, then, of sapphire death gone to ash.

"I don't want you either. Not anymore."

Then he turned from you, and walked away, towards the house, his fey shape a shadow puppet on the wall.

#saltburn fic #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick #saltburn #dead dove do not eat #darkfic #tw noncon #tw assault #tw blood #oliver quick x you

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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 8 months

Text

Unbearable- Lesso X Never!Reader

Synopsis: It’s the final battle, and it all seems to go according to plan, but plans change.

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, reader can see/communicate with the dead, mentions of death/dying, talks of slaughter though no descriptions really used.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/n: This may not be the saddest most heart wrenching H/NC, but I can guarantee some of y’all will still be mad at me lol, I love you guys! And if this does well I might do a part two with a better/alternative ending.?

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

"And I shall slaughter you, just as I did her." You saw red whenever this man spoke, and you knew he was just trying to get under your skin.

Rafal had his arms outstretched, a wicked smile on his face.

As a Never, you adored the thought of Evil winning. But the way he treated your friends and your love, you'd do everything in your power to be sure that he doesn't walk the Earth.

But you knew something he didn't, you had the Excalibur. You smiled inwardly at the way his aggravating smirk faded as you revealed the sword.

It took everything within you to defeat Rafal. You had nearly collapsed from his strength, but you needed to prevail. Not for you, but you needed to win for Lesso. You needed her to know that love fights for you, not with you.

Ironically, you felt as if you could finally breathe once Rafal was lying on the floor, abdomen sliced open all thanks to you.

You were hunched over, the pain from your wounds and the absence of breath in your lungs was almost overwhelming. But you noticed something, something that helped you ignore it all.

You looked up to see the redhead, the amazing fierce Dean of Evil, looking around the disarrayed room before her eyes finally landed on you.

"We did it." Your words did nothing to hide the breathlessness and exhaustion you were feeling.

"No, you did it." She clarified.

You stood up and began walking to her as she made no attempts to walk towards you, "I'm so glad to see you. Everything I do, I do for you."

She smiled softly, "I wish there was a way to thank you for all you've done for me."

You looked in her eyes, "I just want to leave with you, to go anywhere but here."

"Darling-"

"We can now, we can do it! We can go and live our lives together."

"No, we can't."

You were beyond confused, to say the least, "What? Why not?"

"Darling, I'm not... I'm not here."

"No... NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME. Where- where are you?" You stuttered as the realization hit you.

You knew your power was to be able to see and communicate with the dead, but you never thought it would be as cruel as it was to play this trick on you.

"I'm just in the corridor, I was on my way to you-"

You didn't let her finish as you ran out to her. You kept running, not caring that you still hadn't caught your breath and certainly not caring about your sore body.

You kept running until you saw a familiar figure, lifeless on the corridor floor. Your lip instantly quivered as tears silently fell down your face.

You slowly crept closer, afraid of the reality laid before you. But then she reappeared next to you.

You desperately wanted to face her, to see her as you remembered her but that's not fair. You knew that wasn't how things would get to be.

"I never wanted to leave you like this."

You couldn't believe that Rafal had actually spoken the truth, the cruel truth that you never wanted to face.

You were frozen in your spot, only just a few steps away, staring at what was once your lover. Her spirit beside you, broken at seeing how destroyed you currently are.

"Please, say something," Lesso pleaded, never has she seen you so defeated, so hurt, so lost at what to do.

But you knew just what had to be done.

"I have no other choice."

Lesso was confused but remained silent to watch you continue.

You hesitantly kneeled beside her, your heart breaking all over again as you saw her pale face even paler than you've seen before. No emotions to be found on her face, at this moment, your decision was solidified.

You pushed a strand of hair out of her face, placing it gingerly behind her ear.

Her spirit watched on, knowing she couldn't do anything to console you. She tried with words, but she knew that hearing her words while seeing her in the way she was, meant nothing.

You placed one of your hands on her head, and the other on her chest above her heart. The spirit's confusion only grew.

"What, what are you doing?" Lesso started to feel funny, watching as your eyes closed to stay focused.

"I never told you the extent of my powers." You spoke in just a whisper, knowing she'd vehemently disapprove of your move.

"Okay? You can tell me."

"I can not only communicate and see the dead..." You started to feel woozy, though you weren't in perfect health at the beginning of this you still knew it would work. "I can bring someone back from the dead as well."

"There's-" Lessos spirit felt woozy as well, almost as if she were glitching, and that's when she saw her body twitch the slightest bit. "There's something you're not telling me."

You sighed, not stopping this ritual, "I can only bring back one."

"W-why would you only be able to bring back one?" Though her spirit was fading, her body was getting stronger, it was clear to you both.

Just as it was clear to her that you were fading even more, more than her spirit was and faster than she seemed to.

"Because," Your breathing was labored and your body was feeling heavy. "It's your life, for mine."

Lesso's spirit kept fading and fading fast. But you didn't mind as you saw her body grow stronger.

"Then stop! Don't, please don't do this. It's not worth it!" If Lesso's spirit could cry, it would be balling.

"I don't want to live if I don't get to live a life with you."

Just as you collapsed on the ground beside your lover, her Spirit vanished and her eyes opened.

It all happened so fast, yet it's as if it were in slow motion.

Just as Lesso finally had the strength to sit up and take probably the deepest breath she'll ever manage, she looked over to you, her freshly beating heartbreaking at the sight of you.

Now, you were the lifeless one. Body limp on the ground with flushed features. Your heart no longer pumping, lungs no longer breathing.

"That was so stupid! Why, why would you do that for me?!" Lesso wanted to be angry with you, wanted to be mad at your decision. But she also knew that if she could, she would've done the same thing for you.

Lesso moved closer to you, her heartbreaking down to dust while feeling how rapidly your body was going cold. Though she was still weak, she still found the strength to pull you up on her lap.

"No... you can't leave me too. I can't do this without you. I don't know how..." She's holding your lifeless body, frozen in time.

She mimicked the same move you did, brushing some loose strands of hair from your face. She felt shattered, so broken her body couldn't bring itself to make tears, to make a sound. She wasn't only broken, she was frozen. She didn't look away from your face, not once.

Not when she felt residual pain from her injuries. Not when people came in to see the damage done. Not when Dovey came in to count the survivors and gasped upon seeing her friend entirely a shell of who she once was.

Nothing could take her attention from you.

Nothing else matters.

Not now, not without you.

She is but a bird without a nest, without you. Without you, she has no place, no home, and nowhere she truly belongs anymore.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @bigolgay @hxzxrdous @pebbleswritessometimes @i-like-reading @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing

#hurt/no comfort #character death #fanfic #oneshot #charlize theron #lady lesso #lady lesso x reader #sapphic #leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #soft lady lesso #lesso x reader #lesso x dovey #lady leonora lesso

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crazyk-imagine · 9 months

Text

Life of the Party

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!reader

Characters: Sirius Black, Fem!reader, James Potter, Lily Potter nee Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadows, Nymphadora Tonks (briefly mentioned), Harry Potter (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, this is random, during the first war, has bits of the sceond war involved, this probably doesn't track with the timeline, but certainly kept me entertained, not all information is accurate but that's to be expected, I had no idea where this was going, the last line makes me cry on the inside

Word Count: 2,601

A/N: Was I watching "Only Murders in the building" while writing this, giving it the murder mystery vibe, I feel it has? Maybe. No regrets though.

James took his time proposing

Voldemort slowly started getting stronger and then Peter joined him.

There are no known reactions to the bloodroot poison... I made up my own, hence the murder mystery vibe.

This is partially inspired by "Life of the Party" by Shawn Mendes

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you to take your shot, it might be scary.” You shrug, "maybe she's ready for you two to take the next step." You're just hoping that if you push him a little more, they can be even happier.

And maybe, James can finally shut up about wanting to have the same last name, whatever comes first.

James nods, taking in every word you’re saying.

“We don’t have the time to be sorry," you tell him.

The faint whispers of evil lurking around every corner are slowly becoming louder in your mind.

You hold your breath for a second.

“She’s right,” Marlene shrugs.

Dorcas shakes her head, not liking it when the two of you agree with one another.

The blonde shares a look with the girl closest to her. “Why doesn’t he just man up and ask her?”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, “I don’t know. You’re asking the wrong person.”

Sirius leans against you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "am I hearing that Prongs is going to be an idiot again? Still don't know how to pop the question, do you?"

James rolls his eyes. "Thank you," he says to you before running off. "Look at that, we're alone now."

“Are we invisible to you, you dolt?” Dorcas grabs Marlene’s wrist and hauls her out of your home.

“I think he's going to do it now.”

“He’s not.”

“You want to bet?”

The blonde nods, “I do. Ten pounds.”

“And a butter beer.”

Marlene scowls, “fine.”

They shake hands.

“You’re on.”

He sneaks around your home, making sure no one can see him. You shake your head. "Nice try, Sirius."

"What?" He pouts, following you after you brush him away from you.

"Don't push me away. I know you love me." He flutters his lashes as if that will further prove his case.

"I would love some peace and quiet. Besides, shouldn't you be checking on Remus right now? It's almost his time."

He sighs, "yeah. I just... wanted to see you before."

"Well, you did and now it's time to say goodbye."

"Fine, fine," he lets out a deep sigh, as if you've done something to him. "Promise me one thing?"

You stare into his eyes.

“You’ll tell me if you’ve been seeing things when I get back.”

You nod, gulping because you know what’s going to happen before then.

The corner of his lips curls upwards, thinking about being alone with you and hopefully asking you something he should have had a long time ago. "I'll be off now, little miss “life of the party”. I'll see you later?"

You rest your hands against the counter, preventing yourself from falling. You nod, "of course, Pads."

He smirks, shaking his head to rid him of his thoughts although he’s always fond when you call him by his nickname. "Alright, I'm off."

"Bye," you whisper, listening to his motorbike get farther from your home. You groan, raising one hand to your head. It's worse.

'The whispers get louder when the ticking stops.'

You want to forget it, but you can't.

His screams haunt you; you can't see his face, you don’t know who it is but it's more than enough to ruin your sleep, invading your mind at the most inconvenient times.

Your family's large grandfather clock chimes.

Nothing's going to work now, you know it. You don't know why you’re going in here but it’s the one place you believe to be in your best interest to reside in during this time.

You grab your wand from your boot and wave it.

The bookshelf moves out of the way.

A heavy breath escapes you.

No one but you know of your meek at home potions room. It's better this way, none of them will ask any questions or throw themselves into research.

By the time your clock chimes again, James and Lily will be the next future couple followed by a sweet little baby boy who will help carry on their family line.

Remus will be trying to finish his potion for the upcoming full moon.

Sirius will be the last of his siblings but not of his family's pureblood status.

And Peter-

“Come out tonight. Come out tonight,” you mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, waiting. "You found me."

"I never wanted this to happen."

"If you didn't want it to happen, you wouldn't have joined him. You wouldn’t have cowered into his grasp because you think he’s getting stronger."

"I- I'm sorry."

"Are you? Because I think you don’t have the time to be sorry. Or are you just saying that because of the bloodroot poison you put in my drink last week?"

Peter pauses in the doorway. "When did you know?"

"It's obvious when somethings not right with your body and you're stupid to think I wouldn't notice."

"You really want to fight with the person who could kill you?"

"You already have."

"It wasn't my choice."

"You didn't know whether you should have stayed on this side and when they found you, you chose to put that damned mark on your arm. You made a decision long ago. I'm just," you hold your breath, finding it hard to take a simple breath now. "Wondering what made you change?"

"Nothing," he mumbles.

"That's such a lie and you know it!"

His head snaps in your direction. "Everyone made me this way!"

You struggle to gulp down the saliva that filled your mouth.

"I was tired of being the joke of it all," he sniffs.

You don't know whether to feel bad for him or help him.

"I wanted the jokes to stop. I thought they would when we grew up, but they barely did."

"What jokes?" You whisper, now losing your voice.

"It doesn't matter now, what's done is done."

"Soon to be done. You're here to report to him that I'm dead, right?"

"N- no."

"You're distracting me, waiting until the end."

"Stop it."

"I hope you feel better."

"Better?"

"Thinking you chose the right side-" You take a step closer towards the table, your hand reaching out for it until you lose your balance and begin tumbling forward.

Peter reaches for you and holds you.

This is the last time he'll ever see you. And it hits him, what he's done to his friend.

There are no changing things now.

He adjusts you, cradling you in his arms as he sits behind you; the way a friend should comfort another one in need.

"Are you happy?"

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, staring at your side profile. "What?"

There's no more fight left in you and there's one thing you want someone to know, your last fighting words were something that will haunt your murderer. "Knowing you chose the wrong side."

"I-"

You close your eyes, not wanting your last sight to be of the secret you kept from your friends.

The grandfather clocks chimes once more and the whispers of his mind fill the silence.

Peter throws his head back, tears trickling down the sides of his face.

Nothing will ever be the same and no one will ever know what he's done.

Not until the end of the first war.

He carefully moves away from you and places you against the desk making it look as if you were sitting against the desk when you pass.

He kept it quiet of how you passed until the night he purposefully let Sirius take the blame for everything.

No one was able to truly move on after, most of all he and-

“She called herself the “life of the party” forever making a fool of herself,” he chuckles to himself.

"Pads, are you telling Harry the same story?"

The man in question turned around with his precious godson bundled in his arms. "No."

"Why lie when we all know it, Sirius?" Lily asks, holding her son's bottle as she tries to take the boy from him. "It's time for his bottle, Sirius."

"I can do it."

"No."

"Come on," he whines, with his bottom lip quivering.

It takes her back to every time when he would beg for your attention. She purses her lips, adjusting Harry in her arms. "It's almost nap time."

"Fine. James, sleep fort?"

"Of course, how else does one take a nap?"

She shakes her head at the two, knowing you would have something to say about it. "James."

"Coming, dear."

"I'll be here while you go help the man of the house."

"Hey."

Sirius raises his arms, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding."

He's left alone with his thoughts, something that's become more dangerous than before.

He thinks back to the story he was telling his godson, which was the night before your guys' seventh year when you decided to do some digging and found the bottle of fire whisky he had hidden, saving for a special occasion and ended up giving yourself a nickname.

You were so, so... drunk.

You smile and raise your hands, not at all careful to hide the bottle of fire whiskey. “It's time to be the life of the party.”

Everyone was confused as to why you did this, why you’d lost yourself.

"Someone needs to get her down from that table before she trips and breaks something," Lily hisses.

"We can use magic to heal her."

"Now is not the time to sass me, Sirius."

"Uh- nope, that one was me," Remus raises his hands.

"Someone please, help me get her down."

The three boys take a step forward at the same time.

"Come on, darling. It's time to come down."

You pout, holding the bottle close to your chest. "I don't wanna."

James snorts. "Can it, Prongs."

"I didn't say anything, Padfoot."

"Boys, please. Let's just get close to the table and then Pads can try and ease her down while we help?" The werewolf adds.

"Siri, come up and join me."

"Join you?"

"Become the life of the party with me."

“Sweetheart, I already am.” He holds his hand out for you to take. “Come and party with me down here.”

“No,” you tell him.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Prongs, Moony,” he jerks his head to the side. “Over here.”

They follow, leaving the red head to deal with you.

“Alright, boys. Moons, you grab the bottle while Prongs my boy,” he smacks the bespectacled boy’s shoulder. “You distract, pull her in with that odd charm that drew your rosy, red head in.”

“I feel like I should be offended.”

Sirius raises a brow, “are you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine. Ready boys. On three.”

“Please don’t try to use sports analogies,” Remus interrupts.

“Rude.”

“Hey,” James calls out for you. “Look at me.”

This gives Remus enough time to remove the bottle from your hands and for Sirius to pull you down.

“What made you want to get up on a table?” He asked, holding you in his arms.

“I wanted to get away.”

He glances up, knowing you probably don’t want the others to hear. “Get away from what?”

“The images in my mind.”

“Do you-”

“She needs to have something other than that damned whiskey in her system. Bring her over to the couch,” Lily tells him.

He never knew what you saw before that night and didn’t ask when you didn’t remember anything that happened.

This was one of the first few sights that haunted his mind, followed by his best friend and his wife a year after.

That’s why when he saw you for the first time, he was going through so many emotions.

His voice calling out to you wasn’t out of the norm but seeing him when you turned around after the light taps on your shoulder was certainly a surprise.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. “Sirius?”

He throws himself forward, almost squeezing you with his might. “It’s been too long, darling.”

Your hands shake as you fist handfuls of his shirt tightly, wrinkling his shirt in the process. “I- you,” you push him back. “You shouldn’t be here. You- you- Sirius you can’t be here,” you whisper.

“You shouldn’t be either but here we are. Just focus on this.” He cups your cheek.

“What?”

His thumb brushes across your cheek. “We’re together again.”

“You should be out there, living your life and- and teaching Harry so much more.”

“I am right where I need to be.” He smiles at you, staring into your eyes. “I’m back with you.”

You gulp, “you’re still an idiot.”

“No, I’m Sirius.”

You shake your head and pull him in for another hug… until an echoing voice causes you to furrow your brows.

“Pads! Pads!”

“Oh no,” you mumble.

“What?”

“Pads turn your stupid head around.”

“Who’s calling me stupid?”

You’re happy you let go of him when you did otherwise, you’d be on the ground with the two idiots you find yourself lucky enough to call friends.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you.”

“I know,” you assure Lily. “It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you guys again.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Me too.”

“Don’t forget about us,” Marlene calls out.

You two spin around, finding her and Dorcas running towards you guys.

“Took him long enough.”

“Marlene,” you hiss.

“What? I can’t pretend like you haven’t been depressed since that night. Everyone missed you and then when the first war came and we came here, you were so relieved that he wasn’t here but longing for him to come to you and you know it. You can’t hide it.”

You roll your eyes.

“So, you did miss me?” He says, staring up at you with a stargazed look in his eyes.

You turn away, avoiding his gaze. “No.”

“Someone’s lying, and it isn’t Sirius,” he says, attempting to egg you on.

“Come on, girls.”

“Wait- no.” He chases after you.

All of you stop, staring around the cemetery.

“What do we do now?”

“We wander around in true spirit fashion.”

“I vote we leave James behind,” you say, raising your hand.

“I second that vote,” Lily and Marlene add.

“Lily pad,” James gasps.

“Dorcas, come on. Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m with the side that doesn’t whine and complain.”

“But I’m nothing without whining and complaining. I was the only male here till Pads decided to join us.”

“I can see why they didn’t want you around.”

“Pads! I’m offended now!”

“Oh, well.” Sirius shrugs.

“You two haven’t changed a bit,” you comment. “It’s nice. I’ve missed seeing all of us being like this.”

“Like what?” Lily asks.

“Being young, not worried about a war coming our way.”

“I think we can all agree on that.”

“Did you all hear Moons has begun to pursue Tonks?” Sirius says.

“No."

"No way.”

You lead the others towards Diagon’s Alley, feeling a butter beer kind of night is something you all need.

“Don’t give her any fire whiskey. Otherwise, her “life of the party” personality will come out.” Marlene teases.

“That was one time,” you defend yourself.

“Lies,” Dorcas says, coughing into her hand.

“You all suck.” You pout.

Sirius leans in, “how’s it feel?”

“Don’t be like that, Sirius.”

“What? So, Sirius? I can’t, that’s who I am.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

You stare into his eyes. ‘I missed you more than anything, Siri.’

“I do.”

His smile widens, “I knew it.”

You close your eyes, wanting this to fill the blocks you made in your memory.

Everyone needs a little happy scene they can think back to.

Taglist

@twinkletwinklenotastar

#harry potter #mauraders #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfi #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius orion black #sirius black imagines #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #crazyk-imagine

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gumnut-logic · 2 months

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Sweetapple Slice 9

Alexander Sweetapple series

This isn't much because I'm tired and it's nearly midnight after a very long day, so don't expect much.

Inspired by the slightly evil @womble1 How dare they dangle a concept in front of me like that. Things like this happen - though honestly, I don't think it is as good as it could have been if I had half a brain, but eh, it be fic.

Sometime in the future, I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Alex walked across the room and opened the huge window, letting in the tropical breeze.

The scents of Tracy Island were heady and he found himself breathing in deep. It helped calm his heart.

A bird squawked somewhere nearby and the ocean hissed beyond the dense pōhutukawa trees.

“Thank you, love.”

Alex turned back to Virgil, sitting up in bed, still pale, but so much better than he had been.

His partner must have seen something in Alex’s expression, because he gestured with one hand for Alex to return to him.

Alex didn’t hesitate, crawling across the bed to carefully slide in beside him, avoiding the healing injury in Virgil’s left thigh. He tried to ignore the yellowing bruises and healing abrasions scattered across Virgil’s bare chest, still hesitant to touch, afraid he might hurt him.

Virgil being Virgil, grabbed him with his right arm and drew him in close, kissing his hair. “You’re not going to hurt me. Stop worrying.”

Alex grunted, not willing to admit how much Virgil’s sudden injury and following illness had scared him.

One day they were planning a relaxing dinner in Sydney, of all places. Planning to watch the sun go down over the Harbour Bridge. Then half way through the afternoon, John had called, his voice parched.

Thunderbird One hit Māhia at speed and Alex had been airborne, halfway to London before he could knock two neurons together.

He’d never been to London before.

He still hadn’t really. He’d only been to that hospital, that room, with his seriously ill lover surrounded by family, not knowing if he would ever see those beautiful chocolate eyes ever again.

Scott was a man possessed.

Virgil had mentioned his big brother’s passion for his family. Through Alex’s own terror, he saw the man go from the calm professional to the desperate big brother.

Their father did his best to see to the eldest, but whatever he tried never seemed to be enough.

As for Alex…the days were filled with fear.

“I’m getting better, love. Please stop thinking about it.” Virgil drew Alex’s head down to his shoulder, stroking his hair gently.

Alex leant up and kissed his jawline.

He, too, was shirtless and Virgil’s warmth, both physical and spiritual, seeped in through Alex’s skin.

“What do you want to do today?” They had recently finished breakfast. Alex was ever so happy to see Virgil’s appetite return. He truly was getting better.

“I was thinking of doing a little knitting. Two’s stocks are getting low.” Virgil shifted a little where he sat.

Alex frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Another shift. “Could you do me a favour?”

Alex sat up. “Of course.”

“There’s a bag, green, in that cupboard, second shelf.”

Sliding off the bed once again, Alex did as Virgil asked and found the bag. It was obviously a knitting bag. Metal needles clicked together as he picked it up and several balls of yarn peeked up through its drawstring top. Alex brought it back to the bed. “You never mentioned you knit.”

A half-smile. “It’s a thing.” Out came scarlet needles and a bright gold yarn. “Bit of a tradition.”

As he was speaking, Virgil started expertly casting on stitches.

Alex crawled back onto the bed, ever fascinated by what his love was capable of. “You are so much.”

Virgil stopped mid-motion, frowning just a little. “In what way?”

“Every time I think I know all your interests, you pop up with another one, and to top it all off, you’re proficient in all of them.”

A snort. “You can talk.”

“Yes, I’m an engineer, but that is all I am, Virgil. You? You are an engineer, a bloody brilliant one, mind you. A musician, an artist, a rescue operative and medic. You are so talented and skilled in so many professions…how are you possible?”

An arched eyebrow was pointed in his direction. “You are most certainly much more than just an engineer, Alex.” He reached up and stroked Alex’s arm. “So much more.”

Alex gave him the side eye, ever sceptical. “So what are you making?”

Virgil stared at him a moment before giving in and looking down at the mess of gold yarn in his lap. “Fish for a fish.”

“You’re making goldfish for Gordon? Why?”

“Because this time I was the one who was injured.”

“What?”

Virgil sighed. “We have a thing.”

Alex waited.

And waited. “A thing?”

“Gordon was seriously injured once. He needed some…motivation. So I taught him to knit.”

Blink.

Virgil obviously took that as a question. “He told me it was my turn to make fish.”

This was obviously another one of those Tracy-things Alex was never quite going to understand. The five brothers were a very closely knit bunch, pun intended, and sometimes they did things that defied explanation.

And this was likely one of them.

Alex sighed and curled up beside Virgil, prepared to sit beside him no matter what the man wanted to do. The last week had been hell and he thought that he had lost the one he loved. If that man now wanted to knit random gold fish for his quirky brother, he could knit as much as he liked.

Alex was just happy to have him safe.

As Virgil began to hum, relaxing into what he was doing, Alex let himself smile.

It truly was a beautiful sound.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alexander sweetapple #nuttyfic #virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple #romance #virgil whump

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deconstructthesoup · 6 months

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Analyzing "The Web I Spin For You"

Okay, so... THIS FUCKING SONG is one of the most interesting and compelling songs in the Nightmare Time saga, and nobody ever talks about it---unless they're praising Mariah's voice, which is something you should be doing regardless. Outside of "The Summoning," this is the only song sung by one of the gods of the Black & White, and unlike "The Summoning," which is just vibes, villain chaos, and dealing out some Faustian bargains with the NPMD gang, this song actually provides lore. It shows us a deeper look into Webby's psyche and motivations, something that the Lords in Black have yet to be gifted. It gives us a hint as to how brothers and sister split apart... and I think it might be our very first---and so far, only---look into the parent of these eldritch beings.

Okay, let's start.

"Why do you haunt me like a ghost? / You're supposed to love me the most"

Right off the bat, we have emotional depth. Webby is singing about someone who has hurt her, someone who was supposed to love her but instead used her and continues to haunt her life. Who is this person, and what did they do?

"Got me in the spell you cast / The iris of your eye is black / Weren't you the one to watch my back / Unlike the witches you summon?"

This is where it ties into the episode, with "witches you summon." You get the clear sense that Webby is talking about a family member---maybe her brothers, but it has to be one in particular, and it doesn't really feel like she's talking about Wiggly... if nothing more than the fact that his irises are very clearly not black, at least if the doll is anything to go by.

"Have you noticed that my trust has turned / You may have taught me, but now I've learned / Gotta catch you before I'm burned / In the web I spin for you"

Now, here is where it starts to make sense. I think this song is about the father of the Lords in Black and Webby---someone who taught them how to be gods of chaos. Maybe once upon a time, Webby believed in what her father was teaching her, maybe he even kept the truth secret from her, but she grew up, saw through it, decided that she didn't want to participate in the evil, and left.

At this point in the song, the phrase "the web I spin for you" seems to refer to something Webby made for her family's benefit, and based on the lyrics, it eventually became a curse for her. I saw someone mention the theory that Webby created the split timeline... and you know what? Maybe that is the web she made. A blessing, because nothing is ever permanent and nobody ever truly dies, but a curse, because she watches her brothers succeed again and again, and even when she wins, there's no guarantee that the people she helped will be happy. In fact, the episode this comes from has the only ending in the Hatchetfield universe---nobody dies, Hannah makes it out with Miss Holloway's help, Lex and Ethan get out of jail. And honestly... it hits harder that way, because I think there's enough evidence to suggest that The Witch In The Web is in the same timeline as Nightmare Time 2. And we all know how that ended.

"You used to keep me at your side / (Have you given that up? Have you given that up? Have you given that up?) / I suppose you'd have me empathize"

The way I'm interpreting it now, this could add fuel to the fire as to why the LiB resent Webby. Maybe back when she still believed in her family, she was her father's favorite. But something happened---maybe nothing more than the fact that she was kind---that changed all that. In the very next line, she says that the person she's singing about stabbed her in the back. Maybe she was lied to, maybe she was betrayed---whatever the reason, this could be why she left.

"Have you noticed that my trust has turned / You may have taught me, but now I've learned / I'll enjoy it as I watch you squirm / In the web I spin for you"

Here is where "the web I spin for you" shifts from being something Webby made to help to something she made to trap. The web she made---maybe it's the timeline, maybe it's something else---benefits nobody, but especially not the people who hurt her. She doesn't trust them anymore, so she's turned her web into something that can hurt them back.

"What's the point of giving love and trust for / I thought it something that was worth the fight for / And now I wonder what I worked so hard for / I even thought that I could give my life for you"

God. Damn. There's so much I can say, but the first thing that comes to mind is... poor Webby. Based on these lyrics alone, she has been hurt, she's been betrayed, she's likely been lied to or mislead about the purpose of what she was doing, and it's a miracle that she's still her loving and caring self. And speaking of which...

"I was the only one that loved and cared for / Have you noticed that I have it in for / As I grew older that I have no need for / The web I spin for you"

This one is actually pretty straightforward, and it lends credence to the theory that Webby truly is the only Queen in White---the only good entity in her family. The next line could either indicate that she's grown to the point where she's too powerful for the web she made, or she's outright rejecting her family and the purpose they gave her---either way, it's still cool.

"If I'm-a trust, I'm gonna trust in me / You may have taught me, but I'm now learning / All this time, I've been untangling / The web I spin for you"

And THIS RIGHT HERE is where the "gotta take it back, take it back" refrain all throughout the song makes sense. Webby is now attempting to undo her actions, now that she knows that she can't trust her family and that she's learning on her own. She's untangling the web she made, and in doing so, turning the tide.

"No doubt that if I drop dead / You'll find me tangled up / In the web I spin for you"

Full disclosure---I always have to look up those last two lyrics to know what they are, and they're very bone-chilling. My only thought to what this might mean is that... Webby's saying that the web she made might kill her. And she's either trying to guilt the person she's singing to, or she's furious at the fact that they made her create such a thing, and... yeah. I don't know what's more hard-hitting.

ANYWAYS, this song is supremely underrated

#starkid #hatchetfield #webby hatchetfield #nightmare time #hatchetverse #the lords in black #queen in white #the web i spin for you #the witch in the web #song analysis

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affectionatecorpse · 1 month

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Alright so I replayed Shadow of the Colossus and I'm being totally normal about Dormin /s sooo I'm gonna say my opinion on the "if they are evil or not" argument.

Now before I get into my interpretation, I just wanna say, I respect everyone's opinion on the matter. That's the point of a story, to read between the lines and come to your own conclusion, to form your own thoughts on it. However you see Dormin as a character is valid. But let's keep things nice and peaceful, yeah?

Right off the bat, I don't believe Dormin is evil. Morally gray, perhaps, but they don't really do anything significantly EVIL. The most evil thing they probably do in game is order the extermination of the Colossi, which yeah, okay, fair enough, is kinda unfair. But people seem to forget that these Colossi ARE Dormin. They are all pieces of them left behind after their downfall. By killing the Colossi, you're simply returning the fragments back to where they came from; the very person who wants them back.

We don't know why Dormin was sealed away, but a common theme in human history is fearing the things that are stronger than us. From what it seems regarding Dormin's powers in life and death, Wander is not the first person to approach them for help playing with mortality. It's very likely Dormin was sealed away because of their power, or perhaps because of a bad side effect that they probably warned about beforehand.

Which brings me onto the fact Wander suffered greatly for what he did. But Dormin DID warn him. They warned him several times in fact. He chose to do it anyway, and Dormin let him make that mistake himself. After all, mistakes are important, they help us learn. But Dormin never disrespects his decision. They're sympathetic to his motivation, whereas most entities might not care about 'just another mortal'. But Dormin very clearly shows empathy towards the predicament Wander is going through, and honours that wish through and through.

In fact, they go above and beyond for Wander's efforts. The deal was to bring Mono back to life when back at full strength. But assuming the theory that the eagle is Dormin is actually true, they also keep a close eye on Wander. They watch over him. It may also be safe to assume that Dormin is the one to bring Wander back every time he collapses, as that magic is in fact theirs, which is not something they were ever obligated to do. They could've just let him find his own way back after waking up, but he's never left out in the open for too long.

Let's not forget, they also took responsibility for Wander getting hurt in the final battle. They claimed to 'borrow' his body in order to fight a fair battle, perhaps to avoid the unfair advantage they had against a group of humans. When Wander got caught up in their resealing, they could've let him die, as they go back to their life of solitude and wait for someone else to free them again. But they don't. They spend whatever power they have left to bring Wander back, something they really didn't have to do. And that's probably why he came back a baby, because they didn't have alot of time (or power) left to heal him fully.

Which is also the case with Agro. Let's be honest here, nothing could survive that fall. Not a human, and definitely not a horse. These things get all their bones broken if you so much as look at them wrong, do we seriously thing Agro just got up and walked away after that drop? Even if there was water at the bottom, that height would destroy her, or at the very least knock her out, which would again mean she drowned. Not to mention how she got back up to the top remarkably fast despite there being no clear path. So with all that in mind, it's highly likely it was actually Dormin who helped Agro. Which again, they wouldn't be obligated to do by any means.

Dormin is by no means a golden character. But I don't think they were evil. There is so, so much to take into consideration, and so many incidents that simply could not be solved without them acting selflessly. They never even blame Wander for being sealed away again, they never get mad about it at all. Any energy that could be spent on frustration, they instead use to keep Wander, Mono and Agro alive in the end.

Though don't get me wrong, I don't think there's any villain in that story. Not Wander, not Dormin, and not Lord Emon. Each person was simply doing what they felt they had to, and unfortunately, this resulted in an unresolved yet hopeful end to the story.

TL;DR: Dormin is an incredible character to read between the lines of, but any interpretation of them is valid nonetheless.

#sorry about the rambling #shadow of the colossus #sotc #dormin #wander #lord emon #team ico

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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 year

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Five-and-a-Half

Based on the Phic Phight prompt: Danny gets de-aged and Sam and Tucker have to take care of him til he's back to normal without anyone noticing. (from @yellow-rhymes-with-dna)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for mentions of past trauma]

Tucker had gotten used to a lot of strange things over the years, especially with a best friend like Danny. Giant robots controlled by a technologically controlled ghost he could deal with. A blob ghost hunter in a heavily armed mech suit was a piece of cake. An evil ghost king sucking their town into another dimension was more than Tucker alone could take care of, but he could at least keep his cool. Sam Manson showing up at their apartment with a five-year-old Danny was a bit much, even for him.

"Sam, I love you, but what the hell?"

"For the record, this was not my fault," Sam said immediately. "Danny was the one who pissed off Clockwork and got himself kidified. I told him to shut up twice, and we've both told him that the clock tower is not the place to hide from his royal duties."

"Who's this, Miss Sam?" Danny asked, looking up at the goth girl with wide, curious blue eyes. He was so small now that he had to reach his arm almost above his head in order to hold her hand.

"God, your cute," Sam said through gritted teeth, then sighed. "This is Tucker. You remember him, don't you?"

"Tucker?" Danny looked back at his oldest friend, shock written all over his baby-face. The two of them had met in preschool when they were three, and had been together ever since, first as best friends, and now in their little triad with Sam, So even de-aged as he was, Danny should know Tucker. "No way! He's way too big to be Tucker! He's old!"

"I'm not old! I'm only eighteen!"

"That's so old!"

"How come he calls you 'Miss Sam', all polite like, and he calls me old?" Tucker demanded with a pout.

"Can you let us in already?" Sam said, rolling her eyes at the question as she pushed past Tucker into the apartment the three of them got together when they started at the local community college. Sam and Danny had both desperately wanted to move out of their parents' houses, and Tucker wasn't about to be left out.

Danny had been so understanding and kind, insisting that they not hold themselves back just because he had to stay near the portal after high school. Of course, Sam and Tucker had completely ignored him and applied to Amity Park community anyway, even though either of them could've gone to a much better college.

"I take it he doesn't have his memories?" Tucker asked, closing the door behind them and going to sit on the couch.

"Nope," Sam confirmed. "He doesn't have his powers either. His body and mind have been completely reverted to his five-year-old self."

"I'm five-and-a-half!" Danny piped up.

"Right," Sam obliged, "his five-and-a-half-year-old self. I figure we'll wait for Clockwork to cool off, finish whatever work Danny interrupted, and then bring him a gift basket of time-pieces or something to butter him up and ask him to put Danny back to normal."

"I'm normal!" little Danny insisted. "I'm totally normal! My sister says so!"

"Of course you are Danny," Tucker agreed. "She didn't mean it like that."

"Until then, we have to make sure nobody sees him like this," Sam continued, "which means we have to keep him here and watch over him, at least for a few hours."

"Do you have any crayons?" Danny asked. "I wanna draw."

"Uh... I think Sam has some markers she might let you use if you ask really nicely," Tucker said, and Sam immediately gave him that look she gave him when she wanted to punch him but wouldn't because she loved him even if he was an idiot.

"Miss Sam, can I pretty please use your markers to draw?" Danny asked, very sweetly, batting his eyelashes the way Jazz used to to get whatever she wanted from grown ups when she was a kid. Sam clenched her fists and her jaw, but, much to Tucker's amusement, she seemed incapable of saying no.

"How did you live like this?" she shouted. Her combat boots pounded on the floor as she trudged to the studio/lab they'd converted the spare bedroom into. "Thank the Ancients I didn't meet him until we were in middle school. He's too damn cute—it's unbearable!"

"Is Miss Sam always such a pushover?" Danny whispered to Tucker.

"Believe it or not, she's usually pretty strict and bossy," Tucker whispered back. "She's just soft on little kids."

"Oh." Danny looked up at him, blue eyes strangely piercing, as if looking right through him.

It was strange. These days, Danny had gotten very good at masking his expressions to hide how he was really fearing. It was a skill he'd learned to hide his fear, to reassure civilians, and to show his enemies he wasn't intimidated, no matter the danger. But over time, that mask had edged into his personal life too. Danny put on a brave face, a reassuring smile, a too-wide grin, but his partners could never be certain what he was truly feeling. It sent a pang through Tucker's heart to see Danny's feelings so openly in his expression.

"Are you really Tucker?" the kid asked. "My best friend Tucker?"

"Yeah," Tucker confirmed. "Actually, I'm your boyfriend Tucker, and Sam's your girlfriend. A few hours ago, you were the same age as us, and then you got turned into a little kid."

"So I get a girlfriend and a boyfriend when I grow up?" Danny asked excitedly. "That's so cool! I must be pretty awesome to get both of them!"

"Tucker!" Sam chided as she came back into the room with her box of expensive, artsy markers. "Don't tell him that!"

"Why not?" Tucker asked. "What's it gonna hurt? It's not like this is his past self, it's his age regressed present self. I'm not changing the past, and if we lie, he'll be upset at us when he turns back." Sam's lips pressed together in a thin line as she considered his argument.

"Fine, I guess it won't do any harm," she relented after a moment. She put a stack of papers on the coffee table, but before she put down the markers she knelt down to look Danny sternly in the eyes. "Now Danny, these are very expensive, and very special markers, and they were a gift from my grandmother. You have to be careful with them and use them gently so you don't mess up the tips because if you do, I'll be sad. Do you understand?"

Danny nodded, brows set in determination. "I got it, Miss Sam! I'll be very careful with your special markers so I don't make you sad, I promise!"

Tucker could almost see Sam biting her tongue to stop from cooing as she put the box of markers on the coffee table and opened it up. She plopped down in front of the couch while Danny knelt next to the coffee table and uncapped a blue marker. "He's... such an earnest kid," she muttered as she leaned into Tucker's side. "It's different."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed softly. "He used to wear his heart on his sleeve. I never thought about it much, but it sucks that he can't really do that anymore."

"We've been by his side for so long, sometimes I forget how much more he's been through than we have." Her brows pulled together in a frown. "Why does he always go where we can't follow?"

For a long moment, Tucker didn't respond. He felt the same way she did. As much as they'd all gone through together, as much as they tried to stay by Danny's side, there always came a point where Danny had to forge ahead without them. "Because somebody has to."

Sam sighed and slipped a little further into Tucker's body, letting him wrap an arm around her. She was undoubtedly thinking of something melancholy that she'd eventually share at a goth poetry slam, but didn't want to talk about with him. Aside from physical reassurance, there wasn't much he could to about it, but he could do that much, and maybe offer a distraction.

"What are you drawing, Danny?" he asked the kid.

"I'm drawing a rocket ship!" Danny chirped, turning his head to grin at Tucker. Then he scrunched up his face. "You can't look yet! It's not done!"

"A rocket ship, huh?" Tucker asked. "Are you gonna draw yourself on the rocket ship?"

"Duh! I'm gonna be an astronaut!" Sam and Tucker wore the same sad smiles when he said that, both remembering the time they had to console him in the aftermath of his first physical exam after the portal accident. He'd discovered that because of his altered physiology, he would never be accepted into any space program, and he'd been utterly distraught. Now he was studying engineering, because he said if he couldn't go to space, at least something he'd built could.

"Can me and Sam be on the space ship with you?" Tucker asked.

"Sure!" Danny agreed cheerfully, his expression back to that beaming smile. "You guys can come with me!"

Tucker's heart ached. How many times had they heard Danny say, "You guys can't come with me. It's too dangerous for you." A dozen times? A hundred? Easily too many to bear, but they bore it anyway.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked. "Is the rocket going to the moon?"

"Nuh-uh," Danny shook his head. "We're going to 51 Pegasi b! They just discovered it a little while ago and it was super exciting! I read in my mom's science magazine that the guys who discovered it got nominated for a Nobel Prize because it's the first planet anyone's found orbiting a star like our sun! Its orbit is just four days long, and they think it might be the core of a decomposed star!"

"That's so interesting, Danny, tell me more," Sam encouraged, and Danny gasped in excitement at the invitation. He hunched over his drawing as he continued enthusiastically babbling about the planet his imaginary rocket was going to. Sam lifted her head to ask quietly in Tucker's ear, "Did he do this a lot as a kid?"

"Yeah," Tucker confirmed. "It's kinda why we got along so well. He would talk a lot about space, and I would talk a lot about computers, and we would go back and forth like it was a conversation, except we were just taking turns talking about completely different topics. Children of STEM parents with highly specific interests gotta stick together, y'know."

After a while, Danny interrupted his rant about space to show them that he'd finished his drawing. Despite being drawn by the unsteady hands of a five-year-old, they could tell clearly enough what it was. The rocket was gray, and each one of their faces smiled out from one of the three round windows.

"Look, that's me at the front because I'm the one flying the rocket, and Tucker in the middle, and Miss Sam in the back!" he said.

"Wow, Danny, that looks great!" Sam complimented.

"Yeah, I think this one goes up on the fridge," Tucker suggested, eyeing Sam with a devious look. "What do you think, Sam?" She looked back at him with a matching expression.

"Oh definitely," she agreed. Danny was going to be so embarrassed when he was back to normal, and the two of them could practically see their boyfriend's tomato-red face already. Danny grinned and let Sam take the picture from him to stick up on their fridge with one of the little ghost-shaped magnets Sam had bought for them. "Since we're in the kitchen, are you hungry, Danny?"

"I'm hungry!" Tucker said.

"How about some sandwiches," Sam suggested. "What kind do you want, Danny?" She already knew Tucker's favorite sandwich, Turkey, roast beef, and Swiss on rye bread. Since they'd all started dating, she'd even coaxed him into liking some vegetables, though she'd given up on convincing him or Danny to go vegan like her. Her own preferred sandwich was all vegetables, of course. Tucker liked to call it a salad on toast.

"Peanut butter and blackberry jam please!" he asked.

It was kind of funny. The Danny they now knew was so different from the five-year-old awkwardly climbing up onto one of the kitchen stools, but despite all that he'd been through and all that he'd changed, he still liked space and blackberry jam.

"Do you want the crusts cut off?"

"Yes, please!"

Tucker handed her three plates and cleared his half-finished homework off the kitchen island for them to eat at. He'd been working on it when Sam knocked—she'd forgotten her key and Danny couldn't phase them through the door—and then the situation with Danny had distracted him from going back to it. It was just calculus; he'd finish it later.

Sitting around the island, eating sandwiches, Danny asked them questions about his future.

"Are you guys astronauts?"

"No," Tucker said. "We're in college now. We'd have to finish to become astronauts. I'm studying computer programming."

"That makes sense." Danny nodded. "I remember you like computers and stuff. I'm studying to be an astronaut, right? What's Miss Sam studying?"

"Actually, you're studying engineering," Sam corrected, but when she saw the confusion on Danny's face she backtracked, not wanting to tell the child that he'd never achieve his dream. Once was more than enough. "But engineering is one path to becoming an astronaut." It wasn't a lie, even though she wasn't telling the whole truth. She changed the subject. "I'm studying ecology, with a minor in political science."

"And we all go to the same school?" Danny asked.

"Yup!" Tucker said. "We go to Amity Park Community College."

"A community college?" Danny frowned. He'd heard enough about college from his parents to know that a community college was not as good as a university, even if he didn't know the difference between the two. "We couldn't get into a University? Mom and Dad went to University of Wisconsin."

"It's not that we couldn't get it," Sam assured him. "We could have gone to much more prestigious—er fancy schools, but we wanted to stay in Amity Park. We have obligations here, at least for the time being."

"What kind of obligations?"

"We hunt ghosts," Sam said, trying to make it sound exciting instead of annoying. Tucker made a cutting motion to stop her from saying it, but it was too late. Danny's expression immediately fell into disappointment and he looked moments away from crying.

"But... but I don't wanna fight ghosts," he said. "Ghosts are stupid!" Sam blinked in surprise and looked to Tucker, only then seeing in his expression that she shouldn't have said that.

"Uh..." she cringed, visibly trying to find a way out of this. She liked kids, but she had no idea how to handle a crying child. Thankfully, Tucker chose that moment to step in.

"Danny, you have to know, that even though we hunt ghosts, none of us are anything like your parents, okay?" Tucker promised, his voice very gentle and earnest, in contrast to his usual sarcasm, a tone which all three of them shared. "Sometimes it's scary, but we would never hurt the ghosts, and we would never try to experiment on them. If they cause trouble, we make them stop, and send them home, safe and sound, okay?"

Danny started to cry, and reached out for Tucker, who picked him up and held him close to his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "I d-don't like ghosts! I d-don't ever w-want to see a ghost!" Danny bawled.

"It's okay, Danny, you're not gonna see any ghosts," Tucker said. "We'll keep you far away from them."

"Y-you promise?"

"I promise."

Slowly, the tears subsided. Danny had tuckered himself out from crying and drawing, and fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry, I thought he'd think it was cool," Sam whispered, so as not to wake the sleeping child in Tucker's arms. "Why'd he react like that?"

"His parents have always been overzealous about ghosts," Tucker responded. "When he was really little, his parents rants scared him a lot. They talked about finding ghosts and running tests, and experiments. Most of their science talk didn't get to him, and he even thought it was cool, but something about ghosts got under his skin, even back then, you know?"

"I wonder why?" Sam said thoughtfully.

"I dunno," Tucker said. He started to shrug, but aborted the action when Danny hummed and shifted in his sleep. "Do you think Clockwork's calmed down yet?"

"It's been two hours for us," Sam said, looking at the clock on the wall. "So probably a year-and-a-half for him? Yeah, probably. The trick is getting him through the Fenton Portal into the Realms without his parents seeing."

"Yeah, and we don't have his invisibility and intangibility to help us out like we usually do," Tucker said. "So what? False tip?"

"Already on it." Sam's phone was already in her hand and she hit the contact for Fenton Works. When she spoke into the phone it was with a low, nasally voice that sounded nothing at all like her own. "Hello, am I speaking to the Fentons, the ghost hunters? Yes, this is Audrey Goldberg, and I have a ghost problem I hoped you could help me with. It's haunting my bathroom. Twelve-nineteen Pine Road. Yes, come as quickly as possible. Thank you." She hung up. "You got Danny?"

"Yup," Tucker confirmed. "Don't forget the key to Fenton Works."

"Right." They headed downstairs and out of their apartment building, walking to Fenton Works since Sam insisted none of them needed to get a car. It wasn't far, even carrying a kid. All the ghost fighting they did had eventually whipped even Tucker into shape. When he first realized he was getting some actual muscle, Tucker had worn sleeveless shirts for weeks. Neither of his partners said anything positive about it, but he knew they secretly love his muscles.

The GAV was long gone when they got there and Fenton Works was empty, allowing them to go in without any resistance. With Danny fully human, thanks to being de-aged, they didn't even set off the ghost sensors. They headed down to the lab and borrowed the Specter Speeder to go to the clock tower.

Navigating the Ghost Zone was a tricky thing, especially since everything within it was constantly in motion, but they'd figured it out, more or less. To be perfectly honest, even they didn't know exactly how they did it, but as long as they got where they needed to go, it didn't matter.

The door to the clock tower swung open when Sam knocked on it and they climbed up to the top, where Clockwork would be.

"Clockwork, buddy, how've you been?" Sam greeted.

"Samantha, Tucker," Clockwork said blandly. "I assume you've come to ask that I revert young Daniel back to his proper age."

"Yes please," Tucker requested. "I don't know exactly what he did to piss you off, but we really can't have our boyfriend as a five-and-a-half-year-old anymore. Humans have laws about that kind of thing."

"Very well, I suppose the Infinite Realms can't have a king so young either, or so human." Clockwork waved his staff and Danny rapidly aged back to his nineteen-year-old self. Tucker's knees buckled under the sudden increase in weight and the pair of them collapsed onto the ground. Danny woke up to sore knees and Sam hunched over laughing at them.

"Thanks so much," Tucker grumbled, trying and failing to sound sincere. "Now that we've got our boyfriend back, we'll get out of your beard."

"From now on, perhaps you'll think twice before coming to bother me just because you're bored, won't you Daniel?" Clockwork asked pointedly.

Danny blushed, and put a hand over his mouth before nodding. "Yeah, yup! Lesson learned."

"You're ears are steaming," Sam teased, even as she offered a hand to help each of the boys up.

"Shut up!" Danny said as she pulled him to his feet before helping Tucker. "Bye, Clockwork. Thanks for not making me go through puberty again."

"And if you don't disturb my work, I never will," the old ghost warned.

The trio headed back down the stairs and to the Specter Speeder. "You guys are gonna take that awful drawing off the fridge, right?" Danny asked.

"Not a chance in all the Realms," Sam said.

"Yeah, no," Tucker agreed. "If you even try to get rid of it, we'll make you regret it." Danny groaned and buried his face in his hand.

"I can't believe I did all that," he mumbled. "I cried like a baby and then fell asleep."

"In fairness, you were five," Sam said.

"I was five-and-a-half!" Danny snapped, put his face in his hands again. "Why did I say that?" His partners just laughed as they climbed into the speeder and flew home.

#phic phight 2023 #phic phight #fic #things i wrote #everlasting trio #dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #de aging #dp clockwork

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