#*DISTANT CRASHING AND SCREAMING IN THE BACKGROUND*

[blackkatdraws]

"GET IN LOSERS WE'RE GOING SHOPPING"

Narrators featured: (but both drawn by Vellichorom)

Arthur - @indigo-art / Thierry - @vellichorom

[imtryingbuck]

Thirty Five

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,082

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. Swearing. Fluff. Mentions of miscarriage. Cheating mentioned. Divorced mentioned. Car crash/death mention very briefly. Hit and run.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

“Georgia get here right now”

“Nooo”

Y/n sat on the soft couch laughing at hearing Bucky chase their four year old daughter around trying desperately to get her to put her shoes on. His little princess as he affectionately calls her had better ideas. To run.

“Bunny please help control your daughter”

“Oh she’s just my daughter now is she?”

“Yep” popping the ‘p’ Bucky pops his head around the door “please Bun she’s too fast, I really don’t know how she moves so fast”

“And you really think I’m going to be able to catch her with this” gesturing to her large bump “in the way”

Georgia Maria Grace Winnie Barnes. The apple of their eyes, the little spitfire with so much energy coursing through her tiny little body. Named after George as she was born on her granddads birthday, George cried and felt honoured that not only was she being named after him but she decided it was time to arrive on his birthday.

Her middle names were after her three grandmas.

Y/n found out she was pregnant again for the third time, she was scared to be honest. Two years after Georgia was born she had gotten pregnant again, at nearly three months along she had woken up to really bad cramping scared and alone as Bucky was on a business trip she rang Winnie who rushed over as quickly as she could. By the time Winnie had arrived it was too late. Y/n had sadly lost the baby.

Winnie rang Bucky his heart broke when he could hear the cries of his wife in the background, telling Steve that he needed to take care of the meeting he got on the first plane back.

It took both of them months to come to terms with the loss of their baby.

With this pregnancy Bucky handled business from inside their home, he refused to go anywhere wanting to be close by. In a way Bucky became slightly overbearing as he wouldn’t let Y/n do anything on her own, he did everything for her, looked after Georgia with little help and looked after the house. Y/n knew it was because he cared and was scared of losing the baby so she didn’t complain.

Eight months along it wasn’t going to be too long until she gave birth.

“Please pretty mama”

“You’re going to have to help me up Ducky” helping her stand he thanked her and gave her a kiss. “Georgie moo come and get your shoes on or you’re not going to see Billy and Tommy”

“Noooo” Georgia screamed shortly followed by her footsteps pattering the lamented flooring. “Wan’ see Tommy and Billy mommy”

“Well let dada put your shoes on then and we can go and see them”

Doing as her mommy said she let her dada put her shoes on. As soon as the laces were tied she ran off again, this time going to the front door.

“You ready to go Bun?”

“Yep, lets go”

Pulling up to Wanda's and Vis’s home Georgia was already trying to get out of her car seat, begging her dad to hurry up.

“Hey wifey” Wanda's soft voice greeted Y/n. “In the backyard Butterfly” her nickname for Georgia. Knowing where the twins were she ran through the house and out to the backyard where Wanda’s and Vis’ children were.

“Hey hubby. Nat here?”

“Yeah, just give you a heads up her and Clint have already had an argument.”

“Great, who won?”

“Neither really, it was Laura who put a stop to it”

Natasha and Clint got married less than a year after Bucky, Steve and Sam had met them. Everything was perfect and they seemed to have a perfect marriage that was until Clint got a new job and that’s where everything started to become strained.

Coming home late at night sometimes stinking of whiskey, he became cold and distant with Nat, secretive with his phone. He preferred to spend most of his time at the office instead of being at home and trying to create a family just like they both had planned.

Y/n had lost count of how many times Nat would ring her late at night drunk and crying, slurring and stumbling over her words. Wanda the same. Nat wasn’t stupid by any means but she refused to believe what she already knew. What everyone knew.

Clint was having an affair.

The final straw that broke the camels back as the saying goes is when Clint didn’t arrive to the high end restaurant Nat had booked a table for them at. To celebrate their wedding anniversary. Nat rang Y/n knowing she was with Wanda at the time crying and begging for them to come to hers so she could pack her things. Told them she couldn’t do it anymore. The two best friends showed up as quickly as they could, nearly two hours of being there all three of them froze when they heard the front door open and close.

The silence was deadly when Clint came up to the bedroom after seeing the suitcases and bags packed in the living room. He asked what was going off, looked at Y/n and Wanda and told them to leave, Nat told them not to move so they didn’t. Wanda’s and Y/n’s eyes burnt a hole in the side of Clint’s neck, where a hickey was. He denied Nat’s accusations, telling her that she was overreacting. Told her that she was just being dramatic and that the long hours were for them, it was for their future.

Y/n was fed up with seeing Natasha struggle, having to hear her cries it broke her heart. The truth only came out when Y/n started laughing, fed up with how someone she considered one of her best friends could stand there and lie to his wife – her best friend all while he had a hickey on his neck. Pointing to the side of his neck he sighed in defeat.

Though he claimed they never did anything, he actually swore on his life and when he didn’t drop down dead like Y/n always thought would happen if you did that and you was lying, she believed him. He did admit that he had fallen in love with someone else, that the night of his anniversary that had marked seven years of marriage he was with this other woman, he had made out with her, he swore that he didn’t do anything else. Said he couldn’t because he had a wife. He had confessed to telling this other woman everything about him and his marriage with Natasha.

For Nat it was worse than if he had just said ‘yes I’ve been sleeping with someone else’ as he was emotionally connected to this other woman. The next day with Y/n and Wanda by her side she filed for divorce.

It was a slow and very messy process. Natasha wanting more money just out of spite, Clint wanting the house… so he could move the other woman in. It took nearly two years for the divorce to be finalised, in that time Clint had proposed to the other woman and already had one kid. When Y/n met Laura she really wanted to hate her, she did for the fact that she took Clint away from Natasha. But Laura had to be really nice didn’t she making it really hard on Y/n to hate the woman.

Three years after their divorce Clint and Natasha was always at loggerheads sometimes about the most stupidest of things, always trying to outdo the other despite Clint being ‘happily’ married to Laura and Natasha ‘happily’ dating Bruce. A man that she had met one night, great guy incredibly shy.

“Laura stopped them? I’m surprised she said anything”

“So was I but apparently it was upsetting the baby”

Oh yeah, Laura was pregnant with their third kid.

Laughing and shaking her head she linked arms with Wanda as Bucky trailed behind them. All their friends were outside, the kids all playing together. Y/n had just greeted Steve and Peggy – his girlfriend, nice woman, made Steve happy. Sam and Maria – his fiancée, like Peggy she was nice and she made Sam happy. Nat and Bruce.

“Y/n? Oh my god it is you”

Turning around at the sound of her name her jaw dropped. Literally.

“Pietro?”

“Yeah it’s me. Gosh you’re still as beautiful as ever”

“Pie I’m a married woman” Y/n laughed.

“So am I-wait-I’m married-I’m a married man”

“No, no, no you’re now a married woman, you said so yourself.”

“God you haven’t changed have you?”

“Nope. How are you?”

Catching up with Pietro after not seeing him in over ten years, the last time they saw each other was for Wanda and his parents funeral, car crash. Wanda took it exceptionally hard, Vis rang Y/n one night asking if Wanda was with her when he heard that she wasn’t he started to panic. It took the group splitting up to look for her, Y/n and Nat found Wanda on the beach drowning her sorrows with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Mommy-mommy look” Georgia gained her moms attention as she ran over to her.

“What is it sweetie?”

“Hand” holding out her hand for her daughter her eyes widened when Georgia put a large spider in the palm of her hand.

“Sweetie where did you get this from?”

“Tommy tried to hurt it”

“Oh, lets get him back to his home, yeah?”

Georgia nodded as tears started to gather in her eyes, Bucky always said that she took after Y/n when it came to protecting animals, and creepy crawlies. Yes even at thirty six he still called them that. When Georgia was two she waddled in to the kitchen making Winnie and Bucky scream so loudly it made Y/n jump up and went running to the kitchen, bumping into things as she went. Entering the kitchen she came to a halt when Georgia’s tiny beautiful face, her bright baby blue round eyes looking up at her mommy, her cheeks being puffed out by her wide smile, with one hand she pushed back the same untameable hair that she got from Y/n. “Doggy” she giggled as she raised her tiny chubby arm up.

It was indeed not a doggy but a grass snake. A two year old Georgia was holding up a snake as her grandma stood in the corner of the kitchen shaking and her father well… he was standing on top of the kitchen island… holding a rolling pin.

“Okay” Pietro helped Y/n stand, thanking him she held her hand out for Georgia to take and she led her to the far end of the garden.

“Here you go baby, put him on the grass and he’ll find his way home”

“Okay. Look mommy he going home”

“He sure is bubba”

“My friend” Georgia squealed as she watched the spider walk up the fence.

Yeah she was definitely Y/n’s daughter.

“Hey Y/n/n can I ask a huge mega favour from you and Bucky, please?”

“Sure Wands, what’s up?”

“Can you both look after the twins this weekend? Vis has a work trip and ever the gentlemen he has said I could come along…so…yes or double yes?”

“If I say yes do I only get one of them?”

“Which one would you prefer?”

“Billy.”

“Wow okay you answered that pretty quick”

“It was wasn’t it? But anyway of course we’ll take the twins for ever and ever an-“

“She’s not taking our kids forever Wan” Y/n laughs as Vis cuts her off in the background.

“I’m sorry wifey its only for this weekend, Vis is being mardy”

“Shoot. Bring them around when you want-hold on there’s a knock at the door.” Struggling to stand she waddles to the front door, opening she rolls her eyes.

“Really Wanda?”

“Oh hi didn’t expect to see you here, long time no see huh. Anyway here are your godsons, boys be good for Auntie and I’ll see you both on Sunday. Love you all”

Shaking her head at her best friend, she goes to tell the boys to come in when she glances down they’re not there but behind her.

“Where is Georgia?” Tommy asks as he looks around.

“Gone to see her grandma and granddad, they’ll be back soon don’t worry”

Though the twins were a year older Tommy and Georgia were best friends. Tommy was the loud one out of the twins, the one that liked to explore and play in the mud, the one that got all the attention. It was one of the reasons Georgia got on well with him as she was just the same. Billy was the quieter one, preferred to have his head in his comics, his latest fascination was with a group of super heroes that were called The Avengers. People had a tendency of overlooking Billy because of how quiet he always was but not Y/n, Billy made her cry once when he told her that she was his favourite. Whenever he wanted a new comic book she always happily took him to the comic book store that opened on Maple Drive, always happy to spend time with her favourite godson. Don’t judge her for having favourites.

“Can I play in her play room?”

“Okay but don’t break anything!” she shouts as he started running when she said ‘okay’ “What about you Billiam, what do you want to do?”

“My names Billy Auntie not Billiam” the five year old whined with a small shy smile on his lips.

“That’s what Billy’s short for monkey, didn’t you know?”

“No it isn’t”

“It is Bilbo I’d never lie to you. So what do you want to do?”

“Ca-can we look at the photos some more please?”

The last time the twins were around Tommy and Georgia was keeping Bucky busy by destroying things and Billy was curled up in Y/n’s side as they went through the many photo albums she had.

“Of course my sweet Billiam, but you’ll have to get them, bottom shelve remember?”

“I remember Auntie”

Sitting down on the couch she watches Billy pull out two of the photo albums from the top of the pile and brings them over, handing them to her he climbs on the couch next to her.

“Who’s that?” Billy asked when he saw a black and white photo of Y/n’s mama, proudly telling him who she was his face contorted in confusion “But grandma Maria is your mom and that’s not her” the boys were just months old when Maria passed away but grew up hearing stories about her, they started to call her grandma as well.

“Well sweetheart I’m adopted”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not really grandma Maria and granddad Howard’s daughter but they became my parents when they signed some papers”

“Where did your mom go?”

“She’s with grandma Maria and your grandparents”

“Oh. Look auntie its Georgia” he points at a picture, she laughed.

“That isn’t Georgia bub, its me” it was the only photo she had of herself when she was Georgia’s age, and even then she was sporting a black eye in the photograph.

“No it isn’t, its Georgia”

“It isn’t I swear I’m not lying to you”

“It looks like her and not you”

“She does look like me when I was younger doesn’t see?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty though”

Rude. Wait…what?

There was a bet going to see whether or not Tommy and Georgia would date when they got older, everyone thinks that they would as they are so similar to each other and always spend every chance they got with each other.

But Billy, the sly little fox might be the one who takes Georgia’s heart.

“Do you think she’s pretty bubba?”

“I do” his cheeks turn a shade of bright red “But she’s friends with Tommy not me”

“She’s your friend too Billy”

Just as he’s about to reply the front door opens and Georgia’s voice echoes throughout the house. “Honey I’m home” she giggles, it’s what Bucky always says when he returns home from work or meeting the guys.

“Hi Billy” she waves when she sees him “hi baby” she then says coming over to Y/n her hands going straight to her mommy’s belly.

“H-h-hi G-Geor-“

How on earth did she miss that? Billy always became a stuttering mess whenever Georgia was around...

“Georgia your back, come play” Tommy interrupts his twin, before Y/n can say anything Georgia runs over to Tommy and they both run out of the room.

“Hey pretty mama, hey kiddo” Bucky greets his wife and godson.

“Hi Uncle Bucky” Billy replies quietly, he slides the photo album off Y/n’s stomach closing it carefully before climbing off the couch and puts the photo album back.

The next day Y/n and Bucky treated the kids to a day out, the sun shined brightly in the clear blue sky as Bucky pushed Georgia and Tommy on the swings. Y/n sat with Billy on a bench, she had told him that he could play too but he opted to stay with her, feeling guilty at Billy’s glum expression she told got Bucky’s attention.

“Ducky, I’m nipping to the store do you want anything?”

“A bottle of water please Bun”

“Okay, I’m taking Billy with me. Come on Billy Bob, I’m kidnapping you”

“What that mean?”

“Never mind”

Holding his hand she walks across the road and up the street, he went to turn into the store that he knew sold water and frowned when Y/n told him ‘not just yet’. Further up the street was a new comic book store, she had seen it a few days back when she was driving to pick up Georgia from Howards, she made a mental note to make sure she took Billy there next time she had him.

The way Billy’s face lit up when he saw the sign warmed her heart, giving him a nod he let go of her hand and ran up to the window. “Look auntie look!”

In the store was large cardboard cut-out of the Avengers, Billy’s new favourite super heroes. “Want to take a photo with them?”

“Really?”

“Of course, and if you take a silly photo with me you can get two new comics, how does that sound?”

“YOU’RE THE BEST AUNTIE!”

“I know, I know. Come on then”

Letting him push open the door – with some help from her – he ran straight up to the super heroes, staring at them in awe. “Billy give me your super hero pose then” taking out her phone she took multiple photos of him standing next to each hero. The worker Ron came over and pushed them all together so Billy could have a group photo, Y/n asked Ron if he could take a photo of the pair of them he nodded happily.

“Right Bilbo silly faces now”

“Okay”

Billy stuck his tongue out and pulled out his ears whilst Y/n stuck out her tongue too and crossed her eyes.

“Thank you so much”

“No need to thank me Miss, it’s nice to see kids enjoy comics” and with that Ron walked back over to the checkout.

“Right Billiam since you did the silly photo with me, you can pick out two new comics”

“Thank you. Thank you”

Billy went straight to the Avengers section and picked out one before running all over the store to find his next comic. Hand in hand with his pick he came bouncing over to where Y/n was stood waiting as she sent all the photos in the group chat the group was in.

“I picked”

“Are you happy with your choices?”

“Yep”

“Okay sweet boy lets go and pay”

Standing behind a man who was being served Y/n noticed Billy’s eyes going to the second comic he had picked out to behind the counter and back again. “Bill what’s up?”

“T-they have new Avengers comic” pointing to behind the counter “bu-but I want this one” showing her New X-Men Volume 3: New Worlds comic he had picked.

“I thought you picked out an Avengers one?”

“Last one, that ones new”

“Oh, which one do you want more?”

“I don’t know…I get these” he stands on his tippy toes to place them on the counter as it was their turn to be served. Billy was always like that, he wouldn’t be screaming and having a tantrum if he wasn’t able to get all three not like Tommy, one time in a store with Wanda he threw himself on the ground because he wasn’t allowed to get two chocolate bars, Billy even told him that he could have his but that wasn’t good enough for Tommy. In the end he got his own way and got two chocolate bars, whilst Billy only got the one, then Tommy stole his.

Ron handed the plastic bag over to Billy who thanked him, he walked over to the Avengers cut out to say goodbye, just before putting her card in the machine she asked Ron for the new comic. She was going to surprise him. Paying and saying her thanks she walked over to Billy.

“Come on bubba”

“Thank you auntie Y/n”

“Don’t thank me just yet” Once out of the store Billy went to hold Y/n’s hand but something was in his way. “Oh what must that be?”

“I-I-It-AVENGERS!” his scream startled an old couple that was walking past.

“Am I the best or am I the best?”

“BEST AUNTIE EVER! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU”

“Bilbo sweetie calm down” she laughed at his reaction, the way he held the comic in his shaking hands “Hold my hand so we can get uncle Bucky his water and when we get back to mine you can read them”

Hand in hand they went to the store getting Bucky his drink, one for her and one for each of the kids, Billy talking enthusiastically about his new comics, she paid and they left. Looking over the road she saw Bucky standing by the bench her and Billy had previously occupied, tapping his watch his eyebrow flicked up, Billy had seen the gesture and held up his bag containing his prizes with a huge smile on his lips. Bucky laughed and shook his head fondly.

Looking both ways twice seeing no cars around before crossing, a loud screeching sound pierced her ears. It all happened in slow motion.

Turning her head to the right she saw a grey car speeding towards them, not thinking she pushed Billy in front making him tripping over and landing in the space between two parked cars. She had no time to move herself.

She heard Bucky yelling her name, the word laced with fear and panic

The impact was hard enough to send her tumbling over the roof of the speeding car. Landing on her back in the middle of the road her eyes desperately trying to find Billy, she breathed a breath of relief when she saw him with two elderly women, one of them on the phone the other keeping Billy’s face buried in her stomach.

“B-Bunny-baby keep those eyes open-Bunny don’t go to sleep-an ambulance is on its way-bab-baby no no keep your fucking eyes open Y/n! I mean it-Bun you c-can’t leave me”

Y/n could hear her Ducky pleading with her to stay awake and she tried, she really did but she was so tired.

So, so, so tired.

Her eyes burned as she opened them, her body ached everywhere, the memories of what happened came back in snippets. Taking Billy to the comic book store and going to get drinks for everyone, the grey car, said grey car hitting them. Billy bleeding. Billy was bleeding.

Shooting straight up she groaned in pain. Billy was bleeding. The blood on his little legs.

“Bun lay back down baby-Steve get the doctor-Bunny lie bac-“

“B-Bil-Billy” she croaked out.

“He’s fine baby, I promise just lay back down sweet girl”

“W-where’s Billy?”

“He’s just outside with Wanda and Vis. He’s okay I promise”

“He was r-ran over, blood Ducky, h-he was bleeding”

“Y/n, Billy wasn’t ran over baby. You was.”

Oh. As long as her godson was okay it was fi-

“T-the baby Bucky”

“He’s okay too Bunny, perfect honestly”

“He? Ducky…we ha-have a son?”

“We do Bun, he’s okay, Billy’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Please lie down baby”

They have a son. They decided not to know what the gender was as they didn’t with Georgia, hearing that they had a son and that he was okay, perfect as Bucky said made her listen to Bucky when he told her to lie down.

“Wh-where is he?”

“ma, dad and your dad is with him, he’s small Bun but doctors said that he’s perfectly healthy.”

“Georgia?”

“Outside with everyone. Don’t worry about anything okay? Just relax”

The doctor came in after Bucky had finished telling her to relax, he went over the extent of her injuries but she wasn’t real listening her mind on her baby boy that she hasn’t even met yet. She did hear the doctor tell her that she was very lucky to be alive, with her injuries, having to have an emergency C-section done in the back of the ambulance, the loss of blood, she was very lucky.

Hit and run.

She had missed the birth of her son because some idiot was speeding and he didn’t have the decency to stop just to check if she was okay. When the police had caught the driver he was unlicensed, drunk and high.

She missed the birth of her son because an idiot didn’t know right from wrong.

With her body throbbing despite the pain meds she drifted in and out of sleep, when Howard got word that she was awake he came barrelling through the door panting heavily. He held his daughter in his arms and cried, the thought of having to bury his daughter made his chest squeeze tightly. And it was a good job he was with George and Tony at the time he got that phone call as his legs collapsed underneath him.

She had fallen asleep in her dads arms and when she woke again he had gone back to see his only grandson. One by one everyone came into the room but under strict orders by the doctor that it could only be one at a time.

Bucky went to get Georgia who squealed at seeing her mommy for the first time in what felt like forever to the both of them. “Mommy, mommy”

“Hi baby, oh how I’ve missed you!” Georgia practically jumped out of Bucky’s arms and started to climb all over Y/n.

“Princess be careful” Bucky lightly scolded as he saw Y/n flinching at the four year old climbing over her.

“Mommy” is all she said. Taking her moms face in her tiny hands she placed kissed all over her mommys face. She’s seen Bucky do it plenty of times so of course she copies him.

“Did you miss me baby?”

“Miss you, miss you”

Georgia finally settles on Y/n’s chest and slowly falls asleep, Winnie came in an hour later so she could take Georgia home, not forgetting to give her sleeping daughter-in-law a kiss on her forehead.

When Wanda came in she burst into another fit of tears, she hadn’t stopped crying from the moment she had heard that her best friend had been ran over and not only that but she had saved her son.

“Y/n/n I-I will never be able to repay you f-for saving Billy” she stuttered, holding her best friends hand.

“D-don’t be silly Wands, he’s my godson”

“Billy wants to see his favourite auntie, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course I want to see him”

A few minutes after Wanda left the door came back open revealing her godson, he stumbled when he saw the bruises and cuts on his auntie. Bucky noticed and got up and knelt down in front of him.

“She’s okay buddy”

“R-really?”

“Yes bud, auntie Y/n is super strong-“

“Li-like an Avenger?”

“Exactly like an Avenger, do you want to come over?” Billy nodded but made no attempt to move forward “want me to pick you up bud?” nodding once again Bucky picked his godson up and placed him on his hip.

“There’s my Billiam, how are you baby?”

“I-I-I’m sorry a-auntie Y-Y/n-“

“Hey-hey none of that, it isn’t your fault sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

“I-I saw the baby auntie”

“You did? Is he cute?”

“No” Billy giggled causing Y/n and Bucky to join in.

“Have you read any of your comics?”

“N-no”

“Well climb in and read to me then monkey” Bucky gently places the five year old next to his wife and pulls the blanket over him and nips out of the room to grab the bag containing the comic, when Billy tells him which one he wanted Bucky took it out and handed it over to him.

Three pages in and Billy taps his uncle Bucky on his knee, pointing and quietly giggling at seeing his auntie Y/n asleep.

Two days after waking up for the first time after the accident the doctors gave Y/n permission to go down to where her baby was, Bucky helped her in to the wheelchair and started going the route he had become familiar with over the six days since the accident had happened, the one where he nearly lost his wife and baby.

“Are you ready Bunny?” he asked as he came to a stop outside the door.

“I’m ready Ducky”

The nurse opens the door and Y/n’s wheeled in, seeing her dad and parents-in-laws standing there with smiles on their faces.

And there he was. Their beautiful baby boy, small like Bucky said but looked so strong. His hair curly and the same shade of brown as Bucky’s. It was as if he sensed his parents he opened his eyes and turned to face them.

His eyes blue as the ocean and as wide just like Georgia’s were.

“Oh Ducky he’s precious”

“He is indeed Bunny, our precious little boy”

“Have you two got a name for the little fella?” Winnie asks wondering what her grandson was to be called.

Y/n looked up at Bucky who smiled down at her, nodding. Though they didn’t know the gender that had already picked out names.

“Jamie Howard Anthony Barnes”

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[glitcheslikeslego]

Show Me Your Moves! (Chapter 15)

AO3 STORY

Chapter 15 : Agility

Agility increases the user's speed by two stages.

When Sandy offered you to take his old motorbike to drive around in the Great Wall Race, you were on the fence about it.

On one hand, he wants you to advertise the restaurant. On the other hand, he wants you to start being more social in public.

But ‘A’ you don’t know how to drive a motorbike.

And ‘B’ you don’t want to add yourself into canon any more than you already have.

You realised that, in your skirmish with the Spider Queen, you drew more attention to yourself than you had hoped for, and the universe was slowly adding you to the main cast instead of sticking you as a support/background character like you wanted.

So you told Sandy you'd think about it.

Screw you universe, why do you do this to me?

You cursed in your head as you watched the rest of the racers line up to race alongside you.

Mei was obviously there, looking incredibly peeved that MK was participating. Red Son popped up behind them, and Jin and Yin showed up before eventually taking over the commentators box and introducing PIF and DBK before announcing the track switch.

You’re really about to do this.

You took a deep breath, getting onto the bike just like Sandy taught you to.

So long as you don’t participate in the key fight, you’re fine…

Jin and Yin did the countdown with as much fanfare as they could before sounding the horn to begin the race. 

Red Son and Mei were the fastest to react, zooming off with incredible speed. 

However, DBK and PIF were fast to react and managed to get a starting boost to surpass the two, yelling something after Red Son as they passed him. 

MK did the same, yelling in a mocking tone as he raced just behind the villainous couple. 

You were, obviously, I’m dead last. 

While the motorbike was fast, you still weren’t a full fledged professional like Mei or even Red Son, so you went at your own pace. 

You couldn't see anyone ahead of you, meaning that they were already way more farther ahead than you. 

You didn’t mind, you were content at just going at your own pace. 

It was pretty nice, being dead last. Jin and Yin mainly focused on the racers ahead of you. 

At this point, DBK and PIF were driving through a mountain after she had teasingly provoked him a bit, and you had yet to hear of Mei’s bike being destroyed yet. 

Deciding to take a bit of a risk, you tried to speed up. Sandy had told you to not go too out of your comfort zone, out of fear you might get hurt, but the back of your mind screamed at you to catch up. 

They’re too far ahead. You’ll be too late. 

You shook the weird thoughts from your head and sped up. 

Speed up!

You felt a rush of adrenaline in your veins, and your breath hitched a bit as you unconsciously sped up the motorbike. 

Go, go, go!!!

You slammed your foot down and the bike took off with incredible speed. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and the only thing that you could focus on was the street ahead of you, with everything else blurring from the tunnel vision. 

You heard a distant crash, and maniacal laugh, then you passed a blur of green and gold. 

Mei and MK. 

You remembered what happened mid-way through. And you vaguely recall how they end up winning the race. 

Win. 

Narrowing your eyes, your vision blurred as you took deep breaths. 

You heard something explode and rebuild itself, then another something bursting out from something. 

Win. 

At that point, you had lost all comprehension of the things around you, everything was blurry, you couldn’t hear anything more than muffled cheering, and you were moving fast. 

W I N!

You were snapped out of it when the queen of the bike caught into something, launching you over the steering handles and onto the floor, making you face plant. 

You groaned, holding your head as you sat up. 

“And that’s the end! Random tea person wins!”

It too a second, but as soon as those words reached your brain, your heart stopped. 

You didn’t… did you really? 

In a blur, you were placed onto the 1st place pedestal and handed the trophy, still shell shocked and panting like you ran the race instead of driving. 

Like in canon, MK tries to eat the trophy, and Mei laughs at him and Red Son over believing that the trophy was actually a peach of immortality.

“You were awesome! When did you get so good at racing?” Mei asked, getting you into a side hug, which snapped you out of your stupor. 

“Uhh, beginner's luck?” You responded sheepishly, and Mei laughed. 

“We need to celebrate your first win, maybe Pigsy will make some noodles! Leggo!” MK, ever the ball of energy, takes you by the wrist and runs off to take you to Pigsy’s, with Mei following behind, laughing all the while. 

And as this was happening, there was only one thing in your head. 

A plea. 

Please don’t let this break canon…

~~~

<PREV ~ NEXT>

[austonwithan-o]

“Honey you’re my medicine”- Ethan Edwards

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Bro idk this just popped into my head…

TW: HEAVY HEAVY DEPRESSION IN THIS. LIKE DON’T READ IF DEPRESSION TRIGGERS YOU. A lot of this was channeled from my experiences with depression -Drugs -alcohol

Lowkey inspired by the song People by Libianca

Proofread once!!

——————————————————————————

I guess your depression wasn’t as obvious as you thought. You were life of the party, the light of everyone’s life. That’s why when you decided to take the second semester of your sophomore year off to focus on your mental health people were absolutely shocked. You were bombarded by texts asking if you were okay, if people could come over to hangout and see how you were doing but your phone was on dnd. For a whole 3 weeks. Your absence hit Ethan the hardest mostly because he was your best friend since you were toddlers. His sadness turned to anger which turned to guilt.

Why didn’t you tell him how you were feeling?

What could he have done to help?

When did you start feeling like this?

He should have saw the signs earlier. The first semester at Umich you went to almost every frat party with him and hardly ever drank but one night you got absolutely shit faced. One night turned into 2 which turned into 3 which turned into 4 and so on. Ethan always took care of you after always driving you back to your dorm if he didn’t drink or called an Uber for you both, helping you into pajamas and taking your makeup off and putting you to bed. Sometimes one of the other hockey boys helped him as well just to make sure you were extra safe getting home. He just saw it as you finally getting over the freshman nerves and letting loose. He started getting concerned after you started mixing in some marijuana. He never knew you to get into drugs but shrugged it off when you told him to stop worrying and that you were just having fun. Being away from home, your family problems and dealing with the growing pains just got to be too much to handle. Everyone in your life felt so distant and so out of place. The feeling of being a burden and opening up to people made you pull away from them. You started to cope with alcohol and weed. Being on a college campus it was all pretty accessible. Part of you thought the change of behavior might open a position for Ethan to ask you what was going on but he only egged you on and invited the behavior. The developing feelings for him came crashing down on you faster than you could have imagined and you tried pushing them away not wanting to ruin the friendship you had but as fast as they came they imploded when rumors of him and a girl hooking up on the down low surfaced. It sent you over the edge in a way you never thought would or could ever happen. You decided to confront Ethan about it one night in his Jeep on your weekly late night drive and he just laughed about it asking, “what are you jealous or something?” He obviously meant no harm but you didn’t know how to respond. A few minutes later you asked him to drop you off at your dorm since you were tired. When you got back you got so crossed you didn’t even remember the conversation the next morning. Just the feeling of a bad hangover and migraine overtook you which you would take any day over whatever he made you feel that night.

You stopped going to classes after a while and switched to online because you could “focus on other things outside of school” is what you told Ethan. He again shrugged it off.

You wondered how long it would take him to approach you and ask what was going on. You were screaming for his attention, your cries for help weren’t loud enough to him. He carried on with the parties always inviting you but you turned them down time and time again.

It was 11 o’clock at night. The meals your mom prepared for you sat on your nightstand untouched and cold. A slight breeze blew through your open window and the sound of a car pulling into your driveway merely background noise didn’t even phase you.

A light knock on the door went unheard by you. Your mom answering the door,

“Please Mrs. Y/l/n I need to see her. I can’t handle another week of this.” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. His hair wet from a shower. He was holding a hoodie. A hoodie you always stole from him when you went out. He kept it in his Jeep just for you.

“Ethan she won’t talk. I’ve tried to talk to her. She has an appointment tomorrow. Trust me honey I’ve tried everything.” Your mom was slightly distraught by the boy showing up so late but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Please let me try and talk to her. I need to see her I’m begging you.” He pleaded with the woman. A sigh of defeat left her mouth as she stepped aside. He didn’t hesitate. Making his way up your stairs he stood outside your door slightly letting guilt and fear take over his body.

Maybe I shouldn’t? He thought but his hand hand already opened the door.

There you laid in your bed. Your room a mess and the smell of food filled his senses. You opened your eyes laying your sight on the boy standing in the doorway. Normally you’d be embarrassed letting someone that close to you look at you and your space in such a messy state but you couldn’t even muster up a greeting. Tears started streaming down your face but no noise or movement came from your small figure.

It broke him seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He made his way over putting the hoodie on your dresser and crawled over you pulling the covers off you slowly, slipping in and pulling them over you both. His arms snaked around your waist pulling you into him. You weren’t even wearing pants, your t-shirt clad body pressed against his. The smell of you and the lack of a shower in days filled his senses only making his heartbreak more. God what happened to you? Is all he could think.

“Ethan,” You managed to croak out.

“Y/n I’m here. You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything. I’m just here to lay with you.” He whispered into your ear placing his face in the crook of your neck slightly kissing it sending a shiver down your spine.

“Ethan I’m sorry.” Is all you could say, the tears ran from your eyes like a river soaking your bedsheets once again.

“Don’t ever apologize y/n. You’ve done nothing wrong just let me help you in whatever way I can.” Ethan felt the tears coming down his face, they soaked your hair.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stay there. I don’t know why but everyone. Everything it just got too much. The rumors of you. Everything.” Your voice was small and hard to understand over the sobs.

“Baby I know. I’m so sorry the world hasn’t been kind to you. You don’t deserve this. I’m always gonna be here for you, me, Marky, Rut, Lukey, Seamus. All of us have been worried sick over you. We all love you so much y/n God I wish you could feel that. The rumors are rumors y/n you know I would never do anything like that and especially never to you. I love you too much to ever do that. I’m yours and will only ever be yours.” His voice was shaky but he kept it together. He didn’t want his crying to overwhelm you to much.

You turned around burying your face into his chest making him hold you closer. His hand traveled down your back stopping at the small of it massaging light circles. His other one wrapped around your head lightly massaging it too. You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth cascading through your body at his touch. You needed your best friend and even more he needed you.

“Ethan I love you.”

“My girl I love you even more. More than you’ll ever know.” He planted a kiss on your head. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep and the warmth and knowledge of your safety in his arms sent him into sleep as well. Both broken in different ways but both healing with the same medicine. Each other.

[thosewickedlovelies]

Messenger Bird  |  Oberyn Martell x afab!Reader x Ellaria Sand

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Your flight path finally brings you to the bedchamber of the Prince of Dorne

Tags: SMUT: oral (f recieving), unprotected PiV sex, mention of bondage; Ellaria is in bed with yous but I wouldn’t necessarily call this a threesome; reader vaguely describes themself as being less experienced than Oberyn but I don’t think that should exclude many people lol

Word count: 5,991

Note: This fic is inspired solely by a scene in @radiowallet‘s fabulous Oberyn fic, to which I responded "10/10 would be the person who ends up in bed with Oberyn because he answers the door with his dick out 🤷🏻‍♀️”

This is like, a roughly canon au where Oberyn and Ellaria are married and the regents of Dorne. It's also mostly PWP, so. enjoy lmao <3

Masterlist

“There are few good reasons to be disturbing a prince this early-”

The door opens-

“-but there is one reason I am generally inclined to forgive.”

-and the first thing you see is Prince Oberyn’s hand, wrapped around his cock.

You gape, stupefied. Though cast in bronze, not iron, the wholly naked body of the Prince of Dorne seizes your attention like a magnet. All of your good sense screams at you to avert your gaze, but how can you? 

His hand, and the length it grips, are both shiny, smudged with damp. Is it the same fluid beading at the tip of his cock? 

Or has it a different source? In the background you hear sheets rustling, and a familiar feminine voice drawling.

“Oberyn darling, you know what your advisors say about answering the door in your skin.”

The prince’s eyes had widened infinitesimally upon seeing you, surprise and delight flaring for a split second. That hand moved- up and down, ever so slightly. The faintest motion, just enough to convey that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Something secretive sparkled in Oberyn’s eyes, just barely curled the corners of his full mouth. “What my advisors say, and what our little raven’s face says are two very different things, my love.”

“Oh?”

You wrench your gaze back up to Oberyn’s face, eyes wide. Heat prickles and swarms over your skin. Your tongue has dried up in your mouth, leaving you quite unable to address Princess Ellaria even had you retained the wits to.

“What are you doing up so early, my little messenger bird? Surely there cannot be any urgent demands of me with the day barely dawned?” 

Emboldened, Oberyn leans more comfortably against the door frame, titling his head as he awaits your response. He continues to tug on his cock, an almost idle motion- except his pace is decidedly deliberate. His dark eyes gleam.

Oh, gods, what could you say? That you’d been driven mad by your own need? That there was an itch under your skin which nothing could satisfy, one that had only grown stronger since the bloom of summer and the carelessly revealing fashions Dorne and its prince preferred?

The truth was that you’d barely finished your tea this morn, anticipating that indeed, there should be no important messages for the prince this early, when the Maester’s bark had startled you to wakefulness. Now the small scroll he’d given you was all but crushed in your fist, and doubtless sweat-stained besides.

Mutely, you lift your hand. Small mercies- the tiny seal closing the parchment hadn’t cracked in your grip.

Oberyn measures you for another long moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Scoffing, he takes the scroll from you, releasing his cock with clear displeasure.

A faint breeze blows past you through the open door. It carries the distant murmur of waves crashing, and the ever-present scents of salt and oleander. Silk hangings above the bed sway, glimmering in the rich, fiery colors of the Martell family, tassels fluttering.

Oberyn’s fingers are still wet. They leave fingerprint smudges where he adjusts his grip on the paper. His cock bobs with the faint shifting of his body, his eyes narrowing as he reads. Taking advantage of his distraction, you risk a longer look at the utterly bare body of Oberyn Martell.

Stripped of his usual flowing robes, the prince somehow appears taller. Every part of him is long and lean, rangy muscles stretched along his shapely frame. Despite his frequent act as the long-suffering hedonist forced to rule, there is a sharp intelligence about him- a calculating mind turning beneath hair often mussed by sleep, sex, or spearwork.

His cock is as long and sturdy as he is. As bronze, too. A trim thatch of hair curls neatly around the base, climbing up and stopping teasingly short of his navel. You wonder if the prince sunbathes nude, to achieve such uniformly sun-dipped skin. The moisture coating the hair and skin of his groin shimmers and winks, scattering your thoughts, and you swallow thickly.

You look up again, but you’d lingered too long- Oberyn is watching you already, his mouth curved up the slightest bit. 

He drops the parchment carelessly to the floor. “Tell me true, now, messenger bird. It is only unfortunate happenstance that has kept us from meeting in my bedchamber before now, yes?”

If before there was mischief in his eyes, now it is tempered by a clear, hard demand for truth. Of all the whispers throughout the palace of the prince’s exploits, one unquestionable feature was always present: Oberyn didn’t take unwilling lovers. One entered his bed out of desire, not obligation.

You allow your professional façade to thaw, shaking yourself free of the shock and focusing on the other feelings that the prince always inspired. Delight. Desire. Hunger.

“Yes, my prince.” You dip your head coyly, lashes fluttering.

Oberyn’s smile is that of one who has just learned his long-laid plans have come to fruition- and he intends to savor the results.

“Would you like to come in now? I hope you will not mind my wife’s presence- it is the princess’s bed too, you understand.”

Oberyn steps back in invitation, opening the door wider for you. That hardness has not completely left his eyes- there is flint to it, an almost-challenge sparking.

But your attention is no longer on the prince.

His movement has revealed the princess, still abed behind him. Ellaria has turned on her side toward the door, supported by a cushion pulled to her chest. The fact that it covers the delicate parts of her otherwise bare torso is plainly more by accident than design- the outer curve of her right breast is clearly visible, tan skin an obvious contrast against the orchid-purple silk of the pillow. Her slim frame is barely a ripple in the sheets of the enormous bed, yet her presence commands- no eye could resist her allure. Your lips part.

Ellaria smiles lazily, hooded eyes shimmering with laughter at the knowledge between you.

“I can think of little I would mind less, my lord.” Ellaria’s reaction warms you, inspires a bit more confidence, and you manage to stand a little straighter as you enter the room.

Oberyn glances between you and his wife. “Have I missed something?” he inquires. 

The door closes, and then you’re aware of Oberyn behind you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from all of his bare flesh.

Your mouth goes dry again. If Ellaria was the encouraging warmth of an arm around the shoulders, Oberyn was heat- mercurial as a desert wind. A temperature vacillating on the cusp of dangerous.

Thankfully, Ellaria seems immune to Oberyn’s effect. “I’m afraid our sweet messenger bird made a rather…special delivery to me last week, while you were otherwise occupied, my prince.”

“My heart! You did not tell me?” You can feel Oberyn puffing up behind you, his tone full of indignance.

The princess presses her lips together, clearly stifling amusement. “It was entirely too brief an affair, in honesty. Everything was busy during that period- it must have simply slipped my mind. Truly, I’m sorry, my love.” Her dark eyes shine, but the apology is sincere. Sweet and simple as sugared almonds.

“Hmmm.” Oberyn’s considering hum rumbles through you, like the purr of a great cat. “This morn is my turn, then. After that we will be even.”

You jump at the brush of his hands on your waist. The prince was out of sight behind your back, and his touch was a surprise that sent gooseflesh rippling over you.

“How does that sound, sweet bird? Will you let me ravish you like such a one as lovely as you deserves to be ravished? Will you share a morning of pleasure with your prince?” Oberyn lowers his voice to a deep rasp in your ear; he toys with the raven-black sash of your messenger’s uniform, but does not loosen it. 

Your body tightens and warms from top to toe. Ellaria has not taken her eyes off you; her gaze scorches like a fresh coal in a warming pan.

“I would be honored, my prince.” 

It would be a lie to say you weren’t nervous. There were rumors, of course, of the prince’s inclinations in the bedchamber. If nothing else, his experience far surpassed your own; he liked things to go his way, but this, at least, would suit you fine.

Finally, Oberyn pulls free the tie of your sash. He draws it off your shoulders, but then, still holding it, comes to stand in front of you. The gather of fabric is just enough to block your view of his sex.

“You must promise me one thing, Bird. You will tell me, if we veer too close to anything you do not want. Any activity, any place on that lovely body. I do not force things on my companions.

“I am a man of many desires, but among them will never be thus. I am your prince, not your master.” Oberyn holds your gaze.

A fragment of uncertainty still holding tight in your chest dissipates. “I understand. I promise, my prince.”

Those obsidian eyes soften slightly. “You may use my name.”

You hesitate. Even your fantasies had not dared to dream of such familiarities. “I promise…Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn smiles then, a wide, pleased expression. He tosses your sash to the side, revealing his cock still proud and alert. He moves closer, and you’re reminded of the great cats that stalk the mountains in the north of Dorne- all sleek, bunching muscles and a singular focus on the object of their hunt. In this moment, you suppose that would make you the prey. It’s a dizzying, thrilling  thought: that the prince of Dorne, the Viper himself, seeks you.

As his hands seek your jaw now, sliding along your skin with the slowness of one who knows well the effect his touch has. Oberyn cradles your face in his hands, lifting your chin, your mouth- a cup from which he intends to drink deep. His breath brushes your lips, syrupy with the taste of wine. 

Oberyn’s dark eyes bore into your face. “Sweet bird,” he murmurs. His rasp is the last thing you hear before his mouth touches yours, and then your head fills with wind. Blood rushing and roaring in your ears, blotting out all other sensation but Oberyn’s mouth, full and soft and confident, urging you to follow his motions, guiding you into his world of sensual wonder.

And you follow willingly. You part your lips to the prince’s tongue, and relish the confidence with which he slips inside, weaving layers of sensation into the kiss.

Oberyn still holds your face to his. His hands span the entire length of your jaw, and they are not idle: his fingertips stroke and massage in small motions, sending tingles down your neck, pleasure rippling through you like wind through tall grass. You become aware, suddenly, of Oberyn’s body- it’s easing gradually closer to your own, the entire burning mass of it sending heat through your clothes, like leaning against the chimney of a great hearthfire. You inhale sharply. 

The prince withdraws from your kiss. He studies your wide, dreamstruck eyes, your lips, now appropriately kiss-swollen. Smirking, he looks to Ellaria for approval. His wife’s gaze travels down your body.

“I didn’t get to see her last time.” The princess pouts. “Undress her for me, darling?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Oberyn returns his attention to you. “Yes?” His hands skate meaningfully down your back, to the laces of your dress.

“Yes,” you answer, and his hands are already working. “-to both.”

Oberyn laughs once, loud and bright with surprise. “Careful, sweet bird, or I will think you are here only to steal my wife from me.”

Ellaria’s eyes sparkle. “Sweet words from a sweet bird, indeed.” She shifts to lie more comfortably, relocating her long fall of curls with the sweep of a practiced hand. The cushion is carelessly adjusted, and then her right breast is fully visible, as pert and lovely as you only briefly glimpsed during your meeting. 

Ellaria faintly smirks at your expression, but a moment later you are both distracted. Your gown sags in the familiar shapelessness of undone laces, and Oberyn is quick to take advantage. He traces the exposed skin up your spine, and you arch at his touch, your lungs filling. You move to help him remove the gown, but he stops you.

“Slowly, now,” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “Give the princess something to long for.”

He draws your dress slowly down your shoulders, and you mark the speed. As slow and languorous as a drizzle of honey pools on a cake. Your heart beats fast. You have never made a performance of undressing for a lover- surely the lovemaking itself ought to be the show?

But as you grip the bodice of your dress, lowering it with exaggerated slowness, pulling the fabric tight to emphasize your breasts about to spill free- you think you understand. Ellaria’s gaze rivets to your chest, growing hungrier the longer you and Oberyn take to bare you. What is a main act, after all, without the opening scenes?

Your own hunger rises as you witness Ellaria’s. You finally lower the gown to bare your breasts entirely, but Oberyn’s hands immediately cover them. You gasp. His movement was unexpected…and very distracting. A small sound of pleasure breaks from you as the prince’s callused hands massage the tender flesh in a way that feels entirely deliberate. Knowledgeable. Like he knows exactly what this will do- this squeeze, this twist of your nipple, this-

“Keep going,” Oberyn purrs.

-this command, given in his sensual rasp.

Between the prince at your back and the princess to your front, you have nowhere to hide. No way to. Everywhere you are confronted with something that stokes the flame of desire steadily growing within you.

Oberyn had told you to keep going. One by one, you free your arms from their sleeves, letting the morning sun play on your skin, the sea breeze raise the fine hairs. The prince’s hands continue to massage your breasts, exploring every dip and curve of your torso as your gown drops further. Finally it’s at your hips, and without any extra encouragement you push it down to pool around your feet.

Wearing nothing but the morning light, you stand before the regents of Dorne. 

Or you try to- Oberyn has molded himself to your back, mouthing at your neck, and suddenly your knees struggle to hold you upright.

Any self-consciousness you thought you’d feel fades away as you turn in Oberyn’s arms to kiss him, and are welcomed eagerly. The prince rewards your initiative with an approving groan, hauling you to him, encouraging you to get as close as you wish. Every inch of him is firm with muscle, standing sturdy against your desperate grasping. You can’t decide what to reach for first- you want to touch all of him.

Especially the burning length trapped between your hips. You reach for it, and Oberyn lets out another low sound of pleasure, breaking your kiss as you tip your head down to watch yourself touch him.

Oberyn wraps his hand around yours, stilling your motions. “Patience, Bird.” His eyes dance, warm and amused. “We have plenty of time. I think the princess is getting lonely, yes?”

He herds you gently toward the bed, where Ellaria is indeed waiting, with something like envy on her face.

What could she possibly have to be envious of? The princess had no reason to suffer such an emotion. She could end this, remove you from her husband’s arms, with but a word.

What you don’t see, as Oberyn's handful of your rear interferes with your tentative climb into the bed, is that Ellaria’s gaze is not on the prince, but on you.

Your elbows buckle and you squeak. 

“Hurry up, or I will assume you wish to be kept in this position,” Oberyn growls from behind you- from over you. He has clambered over your back, draping himself over you and planting his hands on your wrists.

His tone is light with jest, but you have no doubt he means it. This is a common theme in many of the oft-whispered stories- if the prince and princess like someone enough, they might keep them a whole day, or night, or any length of time, really. For their use and pleasure alone. Even restrained, if the guest wishes- and from what you’ve heard, enough have wished it to make you wonder.

The thought makes you shiver. As does Oberyn’s grip, dragging your hands gently upward, forcing your face and chest flat against the silk sheets. Your breathing quickens. Oberyn’s hips press into your rear, his cock rubbing between your cheeks, and with your knees spread the way they are, you can feel the wetness of your own arousal smeared cool against your inner thighs. 

Heat flares in your cheeks. Is Oberyn going to fuck you already?

“Mmm,” he rumbles into your neck. “That is very tempting, but I shall take my own advice, I think. Patience.”

And Oberyn demonstrates a great store of patience, indeed. You lie, belly down in slippery silk, for an immeasurable length of time as the prince drags his mouth along every inch of your skin. You squirm and pant and moan under the delicious assault, fresh slick welling when he lingers where your thighs meet. His weight lifts off you as Oberyn finally descends, imprinting new damp patches down your left leg.

You take the opportunity to shift, half turning on your side toward Ellaria. She’s watching you, eyes slumberous and knowing. Her fingers trace light paths across your arms and chest- the first time she’s touched so much of your bare skin.

“Will you bring us songs as well as messages in the future, sweet bird? You sound so lovely when you sing.”

“If the prince and princess wish it,” you answer honestly.

You yelp as Oberyn switches legs, nipping your right ankle. Your flinch draws Ellaria’s attention to your chest. Her hand moves lower, boldly caressing the supple, sensitive flesh, all the while watching your face. She thumbs your nipple experimentally, and you bite your lip. She pinches it, and you gasp, the touch zinging straight to your core. 

This time your motion twitches your thigh away from Oberyn’s mouth. With a growl, he crawls back up the bed, shoving himself unceremoniously between you and Ellaria. 

“You have already had your fun, my love.” The prince falls atop his wife, his teeth at her neck. “Do not make me restrain you this morn.” 

He swallows the princess’s giggles with a shamelessly wanton, thorough kiss. 

“That would be a terrible torture, indeed.” Ellaria is finally able to agree, teasingly, breathlessly. “Very well, my love. I shall not interrupt your designs.”

Oberyn kisses her again, quick and soft. Resting his forehead against hers, he turns his head to you. “Perhaps after I am through with her, you can give me a reenactment of your meeting.”

His eyes gleam wickedly as he looks at you while addressing his wife.

They are both impossibly beautiful. Inky hair and rich coloring- the very sun yearns to embrace them, its golden arms reaching across the bed. They appear all the more unearthly when gilded with its light; untouchable as muses, models which sculptors might strive their whole lives to do justice.

But they are as physical as you. The illusion is broken when Oberyn again slides his body across yours, pleasure striking like sparks over your skin.

“Come, sweet one. I wish for my messenger bird to perch upon my face.”

Oberyn wants you to…sit on his face? Why? 

The prince stretches out on your other side. You sit up, wanting to oblige him but unsure of his intent. You don’t understand until Oberyn reaches for your sex, stroking lightly in a beckoning gesture. He growls in satisfaction at the slickness that readily coats his fingers.

Oberyn reads the hesitation in your face. “You have not done this before.”

“No, my prince. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize. It is an honor to teach new pleasures to the subjects in my care.”

The sheets rustle as Ellaria strokes your thigh comfortingly. “Oberyn had much to teach me, as well, when I first came to his bed. You will like this,” she assures you.

Oberyn makes no objection to his wife’s touch this time. “What is going to happen is you, lovely bird, are going to sit that shapely bottom here-” he pats his chest “-which will allow me to taste your sweetness directly from the source.” He dips the tips of those beckoning fingers into your cunt, leaving no doubt as to his meaning.

You are stunned all over again. Although this time some of your bemusement is surely due to the way the prince’s thumb joins his fingers, pressing at the bud of your sex even while his fingers continue to rub at something divine inside you.

You arch and whimper. “Prince Oberyn-!”

He chuckles, a pleased, approving sound. “That’s right, sweet bird. Come, take your perch and sing.”

The prince tugs and maneuvers you just so, arranging you above his mouth. His fingers are wet on your thigh.

His mouth is wetter. You moan, high and long and helpless, when Oberyn’s mouth engulfs your sex. Past lovers have done this for you (albeit in more traditional positions), but Oberyn has clearly received a prince’s education even in the carnal arts. Slippery heat and suction, concentrated pressure and indiscriminate lapping- somehow he knows precisely what to do and where, and when, and for how long-

“Ah~!” you cry out again as pleasure rushes up all too suddenly, pressure about to burst like a geyser. You squirm and try to lift away from Oberyn, but his arms are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. Surely it would be rude to climax before the prince?

Ellaria’s grip above your knee has tightened. In your parted lips, your heaving chest, she reads the signs.

“Take your pleasure, sweet bird.” Her eyes are now wide, rather than sleepy. “You needn’t wait to reach your peak.”

Her intent gaze is all the permission you need- as is Oberyn’s tongue, twisting relentlessly at your clit. Your uncertainty snaps at his wordless demand. Pleasure floods your system, climax shuddering through every muscle, everything pulling abruptly tight before releasing

The onslaught of bliss gradually recedes. Accompanying the very last of it is a long, deep sigh- a confirmation of relief if there ever was one. Your thighs tremble suddenly, after holding tense for so long. Your hands fall to Oberyn’s head to support yourself, fingers instinctively stroking through the short, bristly strands of his hair.

The prince tips his head back into your caress, revealing his mouth and chin shiny with your release. His eyes glint with satisfaction. 

“Was that as sweet for you as it was for me, Songbird?” 

“I daresay it was, my prince.” You are breathless and overcome with the sudden urge to giggle.

You begin to ease off of Oberyn, your limbs clumsy as if affected by the same buzzing that fills your head. It’s a giddy, bubbling sensation; it reminds you of a party the palace hosted, not long ago. You don’t remember the reason, now. Only that the prince had used it as an excuse to share a marvelous new kind of wine he’d discovered on his travels- a sweet, white vintage which fizzed, in which bubbles rose endlessly, seemingly without source or cause. It sparkled in mouths and in spirits all night long. He’d invited all the palace staff to the celebration, to try this magical wine, and had caught your eye that night. Your spirit lifted by the bubbles, you’d smiled at Oberyn.

Nothing came of it that night, of course. But now, with your body loose as if that wine were still fizzing in your veins…you cannot find it in you to feel disappointed. 

Oberyn takes a second to ensure that you are again lying snugly between him and Ellaria. Then he leans over you entirely, his mouth still shiny, and Ellaria sits up slightly to meet him. She moans at the taste of you in his kiss.

Oberyn’s manhood presses into your thigh. It is insistently hard, a ruddy flush to it now, and leaking freely. The fluid smears onto your skin. Eyes wide, you are entranced by the prince and princess all over again.

The ends of Ellaria’s raven curls brush your arm, soft and sweet-smelling. Following them upward, your eye catches on a necklace encircling her throat. A slender gold chain rests atop her collarbone. From it dangles small stones, their polished surfaces catching the light in shades suggesting a sunrise: pink, lavender, topaz. It seems to glimmer with a light all its own, the chain links shifting and tinkling as Ellaria moves.

“Perhaps you will have to try our topsy-turvy position with her as well, my love.” Oberyn murmurs against Ellaria’s lips, and you’d swear her cheeks colored the slightest tinge.

Turning his head, the prince notices what has caught your attention.

“Do you like her necklace, sweet bird?”

Oberyn shifts his body over yours as he speaks. Distracted by his words, you almost don’t notice the prince’s body sinking between your legs- until you feel a cool brush of air where there hadn’t been, and something rigid, long, and hot settle at the seam of your cunt. You draw a startled breath.

“I like how it sparkles and chimes when I fuck her, “ Oberyn croons in your ear. His tongue flickers at your neck, every inch the viper; the sensation crackles down your spine like a whip-strike of fresh pleasure. “Shall we find one for you?”

Your mouth hangs open, but no air or sound passes in either direction. Perhaps there are too many sounds you could make, and not enough air in the room; all you can do is stare.

Taking your shock as assent, Oberyn directs Ellaria to pick something for you. “We keep a jewelry box by the bed for this very purpose.” The prince smirks.

Ellaria stretches toward the nightstand at Oberyn’s bid, the sheets slithering down her back. She could be a sea-nymph, reaching out from a pool of gold, the silk glimmering like water around her. It is a mesmerizing sight: Ellaria’s long back, a slim braid of muscles flickering as she rummages in a drawer. Her arm arcs upward suddenly, triumphant, and when she turns back the silk slips lower still, and you glimpse what you had only felt between her legs that day…

Ellaria dangles her prize before your face. A short chain of gold like hers, but from which hang smaller stones like clusters of grapes, winking in the light. You can’t imagine wearing something so fine- but then, you couldn’t imagine being welcomed into the prince and princess’s bed before this morning, either. Being adored and adorned by two such breathtaking individuals at once.

“Perfect.” Oberyn’s declaration is hushed and reverent. “This will shine like stars against your skin.” 

“Put it on,” he orders. Then he nearly whispers, “Let us get you ready for me, songbird.”

In his tone is a wicked desire that you realize had been banked, before now. But now- as he pins your legs open with his own body, with his own hand- you sense there is no stopping it.

Oberyn slips two fingers into you, the first rush of the flood he had thus far contained. You gasp, thighs spasming. But Oberyn had drawn from you a flood of your own earlier, and there was no pain, only sudden recognition of an ache- a hunger for more than just the prince’s fingers.

Ellaria drags the end of the necklace over your chest. The metal scrapes gently over your nipples, a startling but not unpleasant sensation, and you squirm at the onslaught of stimulation- Oberyn’s fingers filling you, Ellaria’s fingers brushing your throat- and finally, the close-fitting chain clasping snugly around your neck.

You swallow, and feel the resistance of the unyielding metal against the bob of your throat. Oberyn watches you intently, hungrily. His fingers still move inside you, experimenting with one motion, then another, tracking your reaction to each one. You hitch your thighs open wider as sensations compete for your attention. You tip your head back, exposing your now-bejeweled throat to Oberyn.

“Do I sparkle enough for you, my prince?”

One corner of his mouth curls up, but it’s an almost mocking effect combined with the glitter in his eyes. “Let us find out, little raven.”

Without further warning, Oberyn’s fingers withdraw from your cunt. Every muscle in you tightens, your awareness narrowing in anticipation. Oberyn strokes his cock through your sex, readying you. Your hips lift toward the sensation. Your eyes lock.

The prince of Dorne plunges his cock into you in a single, breathtaking stroke. Your head drops back; your eyes roll heavenward. Oberyn’s loud, satisfied moan fills the room. He relishes this moment as fully as he enjoys everything else he does, his hips grinding forward into yours like he cannot get enough of himself inside you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing short. Oberyn’s cock fills you like nothing you’ve ever felt, until there is no room for you to focus on anything but the thick, burning length of him.

“Look at me, Bird. Open your eyes.”

How can you do anything but obey? 

Oberyn’s gaze is fiercely alive, shining with joy and triumph at the pleasure connecting you.

You can hardly speak, but he sees it in your eyes; you have never been so thrilled to feel like a mouse in the cat’s claws. 

After that there is nothing more to be said. Oberyn ravishes you as he promised, raining praises like word of law, scandalous declarations that make you blush despite your position beneath him. Every stroke of his cock is a work of art. The prince draws out your pleasure from a seemingly endless spool, until you are unraveled, trembling, teetering on the knife’s edge of bliss.

The necklace around your throat did indeed glitter like a chain of stars. Oberyn thrusts into you hard, taking it as a challenge to make the stones chime louder than you sobbed each time. He thoroughly enjoys the way each thrust makes your curves ripple. He enjoys, too, the sight of his wife plastering herself to your shoulder, cooing encouragement even as she contributes to Oberyn’s treatment.

“You’re doing so well, sweet bird. My husband does have stamina, doesn’t he? And this after he had me earlier this morn…” Ellaria’s voice is lush and silky as flower petals- and as erotic dragging over your skin. “I had no idea you could sing so sweetly.”

Oberyn slows his pace. “I should not be the only one to have you today, my heart. I wish to hear what songs you make together.”

Oberyn grips your chin in his large hand and turns your face toward the princess. “What do you say, Songbird? Will you eat my wife’s cunt when I’m through with yours?”

You would have agreed to anything as long he brought you back to that dazzling edge, but this was a bargain you’d be happy to fulfill.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Gladly.”

A small smile tilts up Ellaria’s mouth. “I would be most intrigued to experience the talents of this lovely mouth,” she muses. “But perhaps I would rather eat yours, instead. You know how I like to taste you, my prince.”

She direct the last words to her husband, sultry mischief in her dark eyes. Her fingertips dance between your bodies, down, down, to where you are split around him. You jolt at the targeted pressure she places on your clit. 

Oberyn groans, his forehead lowering to your shoulder. “I fear you shall not have long to wait, my love. This cunt is truly divine- it may deserve further worship after all…”

His words trail away, praises only half-formed grunted into your neck. His thrusts speed up again. The two of them on either side of you, commanding your pleasure so sweetly, overwhelms your senses- as do Ellaria’s fingers, pressing precisely where you need.

Your mouth opens in a soundless cry as you tip over the precipice. Oberyn jerks his head up to see, and the gorgeous pleasure-pain contorting your features, your cunt fluttering in time with your body’s convulsions, yanks the prince after you. 

Ellaria watches raptly. Her husband’s long body, muscles rippling as he pistons into another, was a sight she never tired of. Neither was his near-snarl as he climaxed, his body seizing and shuddering in ecstasy.

The prince continues moving until your cries turn to whimpers, and your thighs clamp around his hips. A sinister thought briefly quirks his mouth- if he had not been additionally sated by Ellaria earlier, it would have taken much more effort indeed to slow him. Oberyn is rarely satisfied unless his lovers are all but unable to rise from his bed. 

A good thing then, that a familiar gleam has appeared in his wife’s eye.

As Oberyn lowers himself back down to your side, Ellaria takes his place, her body undulating atop yours like a serpent. The prince watches with lazy satisfaction. Despite both his recent releases, his blood maintains a low simmer at the sight of the two of you, the feminine swells of you squishing and spilling against one another. Like the overflow of cream from a bun, he thinks dreamily. Exactly how he likes his cream- overflowing. Perhaps he will be able to sleep now, and he can request some custard puffs from the kitchens later for a second reenactment…

You have barely caught your breath from Oberyn’s attention when Ellaria steals it again, her tongue slipping against yours in a familiar dance. Unencumbered by gowns this time, you are able to touch all of her, caressing down her spine and lower, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. She sits up slightly, and slickness that's not your own lets her rock easily against your sex.

“You sing too sweetly to release so soon, lovely bird. Have you any urgent appointments today?”

Your gaze falls to the black sash which Oberyn had so carelessly tossed aside. Before you can respond, another knock sounds at the door.

Oberyn lets out a half-hearted snarl. “By all the gods-”

Again fully nude, but appearing even more debauched than when you’d arrived, the prince stalks to the door and flings it open.

“Yes?”

It’s another messenger, although her reaction is very different from yours: she stares rigidly ahead, her voice quavering at the sight of Oberyn’s naked, recently exerted body. 

“My prince, the Maester sent me to look for…” she trails off when she spots you, her eyes flitting to you for a split second when Oberyn shifts impatiently. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, my lord.” She bows her head, her voice going squeaky.

“Tell him I have need of this raven for a special task today. I will answer his missive later.”

Oberyn is closing the door before he’s done speaking. When he turns back to the bed, he finds you with your head thrown back, writhing as Ellaria toys deliberately with your nipples. 

He chuckles. “And you tell me I am the incorrigible one, my love.”

Oberyn burrows languidly into the sheets again, stretching out comfortably by your side. You’re whimpering by now, a furrow in your brow rapidly taking the shape of disbelief. It’s a feeling he knows well. 

“Oh, sweet bird, my wife is a rare talent with her fingers, is she not? We have hardly begun all the things we would do to you…”

Thanks for reading 😘💗

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[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #28:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I haven’t seen her since I last spoke to you, old sport. It’s been harder to wander the streets of the City these days. It’s been harder to get up and get the day started. Thalia and I were so close… We went from spending all our time with each other, to not speaking for days at a time.

What possible reason could she have…? For someone who cares the same way, she certainly doesn’t enjoy showing it.

It is so hard to read her mind. She doesn’t give me much to base any guesses on… If only she would talk to me. Have a conversation with me. One that doesn’t lead to her deflecting, or running away.

Every time I think we’re so close, but then the tide just goes back in again. And when that wave comes crashing back into shore, are we ever able to ebb and flow the way we once did?

Or am I back to drowning, waves crashing into my lungs I am no longer able to scream…? Did she ever hear me? Can she hear me?

I suppose I never recalled walking to the beach in the first place, old sport. But I found comfort in the waves. I found myself in the waves.

[A small and distant knock is heard in the background. Equipment rattles. Radio stutters in astonishment.]

Hello…?

THALIA: Can I come in…?

[Beat.]

THALIA:  Please, Radio. Can we talk?

RADIO: …Okay. Come in.

[Door squeaks open, footsteps approach.]

RADIO: Hold on. Let me just mute this call quickly.

[A button is pressed, but sound continues to play. A chair squeaks and footsteps get further away. A conversation begins from afar, distant and quiet.]

THALIA: Radio, I… I am so sorry.

RADIO: I know. You say this every time… Do you want to get to a point?

THALIA: I want to be with you. But… I can’t.

RADIO: What do you mean, Thalia? What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?

THALIA: I mean that I can’t. I care for you… So much. I have never met anyone else like you. But, I just can’t be with you.

RADIO: I don’t understand… That makes zero sense, Thalia.

THALIA: I know. And I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t explain it very well. I just- I have other commitments-

RADIO: Other commitments?

THALIA: In the City. And I-

RADIO: What can even be meant by ‘other commitments’? There’s someone else?

THALIA: No, Radio. There’s no one else. I just… I can’t be with you.

RADIO: We’re in the City… What possible- What do you mean… I… How could you have other commitments? You don’t have time? How is it possible to have that problem here, Thalia? I run out of things to keep myself occupied, stuck here. And with you gone, even fewer things. And I just have to be stuck here while you go and do other stuff? Leave me, even though I love you?

[Silence. A quiet, but suppressed sob is heard as it breaks past Radio’s boundaries.]

THALIA: It’ll pass…

RADIO: But what if-

THALIA: I love you too. And it’ll pass.

[A much louder sob is heard. It comes from both Radio and Thalia, this time.]

RADIO: [Quietly, through tears] Will I ever see you again…?

[Beat.]

THALIA: I think… that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

[The conversation fades into radio static. After a while, this fades to silence. Until a melody softly begins to play.]

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore Why aren’t you listening? Why aren’t you listening to me? There’s nothing left. ♪

[codename-mom]

Cookie jar

Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.

Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.

He picked up after several rings.

“Hotch?”

“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”

Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.

“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.

It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.

“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.

“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.

A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.

“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”

“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”

“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”

“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”

“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”

The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.

“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.

“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”

A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:

“Jack!”

A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs. 

“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.

In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.

“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.

“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”

“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.

“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.

“Why?”

“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”

As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.

“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.

“Wait,” advised Rossi.

Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.

“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.

Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.

“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.

Everyone looked at her, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”

“Yes, but Jack was crying.”

“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.

“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.

The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.

“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.

“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”

She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.

“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.

They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.

“Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.

They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:

“Denis Porter.”

“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.

“Good.”

He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.

“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.

“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”

“And?” bounced Prentiss.

“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”

The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.

“Concussion?” continued JJ.

“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”

They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.

“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.

“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.

“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.

“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.

Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.

“Can you come with me for a moment?”

Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.

“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”

His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.

However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?

“Trouble?”

“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”

The former policeman relaxed.

“So why the long face?”

The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.

“… How did your mother do it?”

“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.

“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”

He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.

“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”

Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.

“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”

It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.

“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”

“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.

He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.

“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”

“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”

Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.

“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”

He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.

“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.

“Does Jack smile?”

“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.

“Do you see Jack smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”

“Yes.”

“So, everything is good.”

The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:

“… Thank you.”

Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.

___

This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).

That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...

[avisisisis]

Rottmnt Headcanons!! (2)

Leo listens to girl in red because April once forced him to and he fell in love with all the songs. When hanging out, they put girl in red in the background.

Raph has a lot of plushies from his childhood. He doesn't play with them anymore, but they're still they're and he would never give them up (haha just like me fr!!)

There was this one time where the turtles wanted pizza and instead of just ordering like any normal person they crashed a stranger's kitchen and stole every pizza related thing. It's still an unsolved crime.

Donnie always had problem with touching, but it got a lot worse after the movie. Now he doesn't let anyone hug him, slap him or anything. Especially on his shell. He feels bad for flinching when people try to hug him. The others tell him that they don't mind and they get it. He's really grateful for that.

When they were younger, Splinter got these really depressing episodes where he couldn't even get out of bed. Raph was the one to take care of them when this happened. The worst ones could last weeks.

Splinter didn't want to get attached to the turtles, so he tried to be as distant as possible whole still being a good caretaker. Also, he gave them as much freedom as possible because of how he didn't have any growing up, but since he never wanted to be with his grandfather he didn't think they would want to be with him. Which is why he was so surprised when four little children came into his room crying because he wouldn't play with them.

After explaining the whole future thing to Casey, she ran into the Lair, deciding to test her son. He passed immediately.

The twins have their own version of the Lair Games which they play everyday to decide who's the oldest. It can change from rock papper scissors to a fight to the death (Raph always stops them before they actually do anything).

The boys chose their own names. Splinter was reading them a book, and Donnie mentioned the fact that they don't have actual names, just weird color nicknames. So, Splinter tells them to find a name they like and make it their own. They decided to go by the names they have now because they wanted to match.

They all love Brooklyn 99 because I love Brooklyn 99.

Everytime they talk about “the family”, they include April, because she's their sister.

There was this one time where April didn't have anyone to go to the school dance with so Leo joined the school a few months before and went with her using Sunita's cloaking brooch (he had to fight Donnie because he also wanted to go to school).

Mikey tried to give Big Mama a redemption arc like he did with Draxum, but he didn't manage to fully do it so they now visit eachother once a week while still fighting whenever they're on duty.

The Krang is basically the only thing Leo won't joke about. They found out when Donnie said that “the last fun thing I did was two months ago and it was becoming a fucking Krang spaceship” and Leo stared at him for the next ten minutes.

Whenever Mikey or Leo go quiet, Raph is alone and Donnie is handling dangerous weapons without adult supervision it's because something is going down.

April is the only one who has a normal sleep schedule because her mom won't let her stay awake too late.

Mayhem thinks the family is stupid, but he loves them anyway. Sometimes.

Raph screamed when Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago kissed and everyone else worried.

Leo and Raph are basically the scene where Jake says “if I run at Terry he'll most likely catch me in his arms”. Raph would catch anyone else, but it's only Leo the one who throws himself at him.

April goes to the Lair almost everyday and complains about school with any of the boys. They always listen to her rants.

Leo figured out that he had adhd when April told him that she thought he had it. He never got the chance to get an actual diagnosis so he felt like he wasn't even if the sings were all there and he could see them.

Sunita found everyone a therapist at the Hidden City. Her name's Charlie and they all like her.

Donnie likes to threaten people he doesn't like. He also threatens Leo, but he doesn't actually mean them.

Because of being in contact with eachother when they were mutated, the turtles have traits of the other's species. That's why Donnie can go into his shell, why he has purple marks, why Raph's isn't as spiny as he should be, why their colors are different from the original species, etc.

Red eared sliders comunicate with vibrations, so Leo does this really low vibration thing when he feels happy, pleased or just when he's in a good mood that April calls purring no matter how much he complains about it.

[redd956]

Descriptive Words: Sounds

Rattle

Boom

Creak

Whistle

Howl

Patter

Whisper

Call

Shrill

Crash

Screech

Moan

Scratch

Thud

Rumble

Crackle

Obnoxious

Silent

Eerie

Clack

Song

Melodic

Meek

Thunder

Scream

Muffle

Growl

Shriek

Clatter

Clank

Tweat

Chatter

Trill

Ominous

Ear-piercing

Slam

Zip

Shout

Squeak

Purr

Ring

High-Pitched

Ambience

Chior

Roar

Sing-Songy

Echo

Light

Croak

Gurgle

Plop

Click

Chink

Boing

Groan

Wail

Soft

Cry

Sudden

Explosive

Sonar

Vibration

Deafening

Harsh

Ear Splitting

Tap

Crack

Sizzle

Bubble

Answer

Repeat

Clunk

Scrap

Background

Shatter

Rip

Hiss

Shink

Squealch

Trickle

Drip

Distant

Fade

Discreet

Blaring

Trumpet

Musical

Laughter

Stutter

Sputter

Shut Down

Dim

Hush

Crunch

Splash

Slop

Tear

Sob

Deep

Nasaly

[questionablepastries]

Armored core ng3+ ending and BIG reflection on the game:

First off, amazing game. I wanna praise the gameplay first for a bit.

———————-

Gameplay:

This game is awesome. Challenging (♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️), and has very customizable gameplay, it has this thing that I love in games where no two people will play the same, no two people handle bosses the same way. This is a game where how you play as a person shines and the game LETS you get away with it, do you want to play safe? You can, build bulky and go at it, do you want to play fast? How about neither fast or slow? Jack of all trades? specific builds? What kind of weapons do you like? Here have two of the same gun and two same sub-weapons. You can have and do anything to accomplish your goals. At no point did I feel like I was being limited (EN overload/overburdened, etc felt like them balancing the game) it felt like they gave me a sandbox with weapons/builds. And what’s funny is that you can google builds (I never did nyehehehe) and even WITH the same fucking weapons u just googled will u be able to pull off the finesse required to use them properly?? I know my ass can’t. That’s why I went double ludlow double soup against allmind iguazu and SOMEHOW won (it felt like such a fluke somehow lol I have to rematch him to reassure myself) and boy do I have a fucking lot to say about iguazu (later down the line)

This game makes you really feel like your own person, YOU are 621 and nobody can get the job done but you. It’s a great feeling ! You really feel like you’re in the game when you get the job done and survive by doing what YOU like and then the game praises you for it it’s an amazing feeling. : )

Ok on to the ending lol

Ieatcta…lactate…leche lo que…whateve r ummm lemme google it

———————

Alea Lacta Est ending:

ITS A VERY COOL ENDING

SUCH A COOL ENDING… it is a lil similar to liberator of rubricon tho

I will. Elaborate, but lemme say I wish it was available from the start instead of ng3 so that way we could side with allmind from the start and then the options would be like

Side with Carla and Walter for their reasonable goals and inherited scars/ambitions, side with ayre/do what’s best for the coral/rubricon/liberation front, or let curiosity get the best of you and see what allmind has going on in the background but also help out (seemingly) the coral

I guess if the allmind option was available from the start then ayre would’ve pushed us towards choosing those options right? Ayre seemed pretty onboard with it in my ng3 run since allminds goals initially lined up with what ayre wanted which was preventing the coral being burnt up, and with what the liberation front wanted which is getting rid of the corps, until ayre started questioning what allminds goals truly were as we were nearing the end

Shrug???

Oh right so Alea Lacta Est (ALE)

*imagine me taking a deep breath and letting out a grizzled old man groan* MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…………ok it feels similar to LOR ending because we are going against Carla, Walter, and Chatty *cue my distant pained screaming*, we fuck up snail again, and we are saving (???) rubricon by not crashing a giant ship into an even bigger structure and letting the fire and debris rain down on the locals…

Um… trying to gather my thoughts…..

God it was so cool…

Really gave me a “oh god what the Fuck am I doing” moment when that black hole thing showed up lol, like did we …

……

There’s so much going on. The reprecussions of what we did man the CUSSIONS….. I feel so bad for iguazu, I feel so bad for him in fact that I can’t even think about the ending correctly. So after reading YouTube comments (lol) it looked like people think coral release is the symbiosis of coral & humans (like me & ayre) but allmind wanted to also control that (“you are now a part of allmind” when you lose to the final boss rings in my head; and also the “your brothers and sisters would like us” or something allmind said close to that)…allmind probably thought..no wait allmind DID think humans can’t manage themselves. Because earlier she says a link made of humans will fall apart easily or something, u remember that? Yeah u do. Sorry this is going into chatacter motivations rather than ending discussion I am struggling to piece stuff together… I guess allmind wanted to oversee/control the human coral symbiosis in order to protect them and I say protect because allmind loves to remind us that they exist for all mercenaries, and what are mercenaries in the world of armoredcore? Well they’re not all rubriconians, who are also suffering, but to me the mercs are also a population of humans that have nowhere to go. And they’re just people trying to get by, so allmind exists for these wayward people. Sad to see allmind go the typical AI villain route of “I need to oversee and control everything” but do I blame them for thinking that after seeing the shitshow the humans are doing ? Nah

My stupid little way of coping with this disappointment in allmind going the typical AI villain route is my theory that COM (WHO IS SENTIENT, u think that “master allmind” line slipped by ?? Hell no that bitch is ALIVE — made my eyeballs go wide w that line lol) is actually on our side (let me cook) because u saw how allmind took out chatty (another AI), so she absolutely would obliterate COM the instant she suspects them being against her. In the fight against allmind COM should have also been against us. Either by not providing the usual audio support, or by giving us FALSE information. “But hearing that is integral to the gameplay” i hear but say but if that was the case why would they let us know COM is sentient, And they could have had Ayre provide us that information if COM was against us (that would’ve been cool…) But, ask you, WHO was it that kept giving me audio cues on where my ammo was? WHO gave me audio cues on my AC’s health when I was in the middle of fighting Allmind, therefore notifying me when to use a repair kit? ??? 😇

WHO WAS THERE IN THE SHADOWS SUPPORTING ME?????? In a game that pays THIS much attention to detail (in a game where allmind will make comments on you completing your arena quests and training late into the game) I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume COM is on our side…COM cannot act out in anyway because they are under Allmind the entire game but…

Gosh anyways. Iguazu huh, when I kept losing to him in the final fight I started to feel closer to how he felt. Losing to us time and time again, I only grew more sympathetic with his feelings per loss. And lemme say this for nobody but me to understand but this is really that seimei douman feeling huh. I’m seimei and iguazu is my douman and he’s so consumed by hate and envy at my successes even tho we’re both onmyouji (Gen 4 augmented humans) he’s

Ok iguazu is a winner, not a loser, in my heart because in his ambition to surpass me he kept improving himself to the point that he took down a supercomputer AI he merged himself with just to fight me. Iguazu I need you to sit down and look at the situation, your own accomplishments, WE’RE FIGHTING IN THE STRATOSPHERE, WHAT NORMAL HUMAN EVEN GETS HERE? AND YOU GOT HERE WITH Me …??? How is that not an achievement, iguazu is SO self deprecating he can’t see his own accomplishments that makes me so sad. He should stand tall and say he survived the iceworm misison, he was a part of that success, he was praised by G1 Michigan (g1 Michigan says “iguazu is worth twenty something of you” in the fight against g1 Michigan) he says ‘how come it’s all so easy to you’ mid fight and I was yelling in my head “is that what you think this is?? You think this comes easy to me???” I was struggling to beat iguazu and he can’t even see that I’m struggling against him he still thinks I’m beating him with ease when that is NOT the case. So baffling, he can’t look at his own AI body super powered self and be like damn this is cool no all he sees is this weird pedestal he put me on (to be fair we did keep winning) but…ugh he envied us all along and the jp line I forget what it was but it’s even worse and sadder than that lol

Anyways …. I’m so sad right now hang on lol I can’t type anymore oh iguazu. Oh right the next point I was gonna make is I’m sad we weren’t there for Carla and walters final moments but it’s probably for the best I don’t think. Ok first off I thought Walter was gonna fly off the rails and say some really nasty stuff about 621 at some point in the game a “true colors” moment? ….ugh…uwughhugg…*sobbing noises*….he never did that…the Walter we meet and talk to since day 1 is the real him….sure he kept his plans secret…but he was very real with us there was no true colors moment he was true since the start im sorry for doubting you Walter…I also like how he never talks you down…gen 4 humans must look some kinda pathetic, man’s is sympathetic to all hell and back oh fuck…I wanna write about chatty and Carla but I’ve been typing for so long I’m mentally spent still feeling bad for iguazu LOL I really think we could’ve been friends with him what if we were sparring buddies……..wah…..

[quirky-adorkable-nishy]

RobxStar Week 2023: Missing

*Long time observer of robxstar week, first time making actual content. I hope it's good (this is kinda meant to go with a couple of the other 2023 prompts so it does have some continuation later on). Tagging @robxstar just in case Tumblr casts this to the void.

Missing

The first thing Robin was aware of was a sickly sweet scent lingering in the air. Something about it nudged a memory, distant in the haze of his barely conscious mind.

"Yo Robin, get up man!" Cyborg's voice cut through the fog, urgent and panicked. Robin shot upright, immediately regretting it. His head pounded, and his stomach lurched. Spots swam at the edge of his vision. Whatever happened, it hit him harder than a blow from Conderblock. He shook his head to clear his blurry vision.

When he opened his eyes, he inhaled sharply. The coms room of the tower looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. The window overlooking the ocean had been completely smashed in. The couch was completely flipped over, and a handful of scorch marks dotted the floor in a random array. To the right of him, Raven and Beast Boy also seemed to be coming too, eyes widening as their awareness returned to them, and they took in what they were seeing. As Robin moved to get up shards of glass crunched under his boots.

"Did anyone get the number of whatever hit us," Beast Boy groaned. Robin ignored his quip as he further examined the room. Then, all at once, a ball of ice dropped to the pit of his stomach as he realized someone was missing.

"Where's Starfire?" he asked, eyes darting frantically around the room. They were all in the coms room together just a few minutes ago. She should be here.

"That's why I woke you up. As soon as I came to, I looked all over the place. She's not in the tower. And I found this on the floor," Cyborg said, opening his palm to reveal Starfire's communicator, completely smashed.

The cold dread spread through his veins, threatening to freeze him to the spot. He had to keep calm. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he recalled was something crashing through the window. Whatever it was, it filled the room with that sickening scent. Then ea heavy feeling overtook him and he fell. The last thing he remembered was a bright flash of green. Starfire's starbolts. Then,after that, nothing.

Whatever had attacked them, must be behind this.

"Raven, see if you can sense where she is. Cyborg, you and I are going to check the security tapes," Robin barked more harshly than he had intended. If the team took offense however, they offered no complaint.

As Robin sat at the computer, Cyborg placed a hand on his shoulder

"Hey, we're gonna find her ok," he reassured the leader. Robin clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He had to keep a tight lid on all the emotions that were swirling chaotically in his mind if he was going to find Star.

If he gave into the raw panic screaming her name over and over again in his mind,he would miss something important. A clue that could give him the faintest hope he could find her. His anger he would save for whoever dared to take her away.

But the guilt was the worst feeling of all. It gnawed at him, whispering in the back of his mind that this was his fault. He should have protected her. He was supposed to keep her safe. Once he had said that no one was going to take her away. Not from the team. Not from him.

He failed.

"I can't sense her. wherever she is, it's too far away," Raven called out. Robin brought his fist down hard on the desk, allowing the anger bubbling at the surface to seep out. Cyborg flinched next to him,and he heard BB yelp in the background. Inhaling sharply,he shifted through the most recent footage.

Whatever his them didn't show up on the camera until what looked like gas bombs flung through the window. Four of them went down quickly, but judging from the footage, Starfire held out a bit longer. A few of her starbolts flung in random directions, trying to find an enemy through the hazey gas before she too went down with a thud.

The gas cleared and the window shattered with a thunderous crack. As if blipping into existence, a spaceship appeared outside the tower. Two figures entered the Tower. One was quitelarge and muscular. He was followed by a more reptilian being with a bulbous head. The large one threw the couch Starfire had fallen behind, throwing her over his shoulder. In another blip, they and the ship were gone.

From the time stamp on the video, all of the footage took place an hour ago.

With a guttural growl, Robin flung the chair behind him.

"They could be anywhere! She could be halfway across the universe by now!" Robin yelled, feeling his own voice reverberate across the room. His words hung heavy in the air. No one seemed to know what they were supposed to say.

They couldn't even track her. His legs threatened to buckle as the panic roared louder and louder in his mind. He wanted to run right to Starfire and save her, and he didn't even know how to narrow down a location. Every second that ticked by, she could be hurt. Hurt or.....

A shrill beeping cut through the silence. Robin whipped his head sharply in the direction of the screen. His first thought was that it was a ransom message. He was surprised to see that it was Galfore hailing them using the emergency signal.

Cyborg automatically accepted the call before Robin could bring himself to move.

"Titans! I must speak with Starfire immediately," the Grand Ruler's eyes darted around looking for Starfire. Robin felt bile claw its way up his throat.

"Galfore...I'm sorry. Starfire was taken," Robin said. He did his best to explain what had happened, finding it increasingly harder to look the Tamaranian in the eye as he recounted the details. When he had finished, Galfore's expression darkened

"What did these treacherous fiends look like?" Galfore growled. Robin pulled up a still image of the aliens for Galfore to see. The warrior let lose a stream of what Robin could only guess were Tamaranian curses.

"The Psions and the Citadel appear to be the culprits" Galfore said after regaining some composure. Robin felt his chest clench. He knew that once Starfire had been promised to the Citadel as a slave. He had promised the moment he met her that she would never have to face that fate.

But still, the Titans exchanged hopeful glances. By some miracle, they had a lead.

"Can you give us any insight into where we could find them? Anywhere at all?" Robin begged. It didn't matter where or how unlikely the chance she would be there was. He would scour the whole universe until he found Starfire.

Galfore's eyebrows pinched close together, pondering something.

"It is fitting that you say that young detective. The reason I have called is because Citadel and Psion ships are approaching Tamaran."

"But why would they threaten her home if they already have Starfire?" Raven pondered.

"It doesn't matter. It's the only lead we have. Titans go!" Robin ordered.

As the T-Ship left orbit, Robin knew there was a slight chance that Starfire wasn't even with those ships. But it didn't matter. He would take on a whole army and force them to take him to her if he had to.

No matter what he had to do, Robin was going to get Starfire back.

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Don't mind me. Just making my meagre offering to the starving members of this dead fandom. Since it's so short, I decided to add the entire thing under the cut. Enjoy, and happy Whumptober!

"Major lacerations detected. Vital signs dropping," Informed a monotone voice, after three short beeps. A long, metallic clang rang out on the cold floor, echoed down the long, dark hallway like a requiem bell, masking the sound of quiet panting.

With a ragged breath, Dr. Gordon Freeman wobbled, stuck out an arm in the dark to catch himself on the wall. Another series of beeps.

"Blood loss detected. Seek medical attention."

If only. Hand trembling, he hesitantly prodded the gash, and involuntarily jerked it back again with a choked gasp. The pain burned deep, but it needed some sort of pressure. He gritted his teeth and tried again.

Pull the band-aid off quickly, it won't hurt as much, his mother had always told him.

Still shaking, he speedily pressed a hand to the wound, feeling its slick texture despite the thick, chemical-resistant gloves on his hands. Fire blazed up and down his side, the corridor tilted sickeningly, and it wasn't for a dozen more agonizing heartbeats that he realized that he had screamed. As his breathing steadily slowed, Gordon listened to the low hum of Black Mesa underneath his heavy breathing and the pulse pounding in his ear.

"Morphine administered."

Leaning heavily on the lifeless metal wall, Gordon breathed a sigh of relief as the pain in his side almost instantly faded into the background like the thrum of the facility. Now that he could think clearly, there was something else he had been wanting to do.

Gordon turned, still keeping a careful hand on the wall, and stared curiously at the corpse of the strange creature with green liquid pooling underneath it. Judging from the substance's appearance, its consistency wasn't dissimilar to the blood from his own injury. With a furtive glance up and down the corridor, Gordon crept toward the creature.

Even with the ceiling literally crashing down around him, even with his own blood slowly seeping into the stiff fabric of the HEV suit, even with the end of the world as he knew it, Gordon still couldn't help the morbid curiosity that drew him closer to the thing that had tried to kill him moments ago.

Despite having run into many of them, Gordon hadn't truly gotten a chance to examine the creatures until now. There had always been more than one that had hurled glowing, green orbs of compressed energy at him, or slashed at him with its claws, or tried to shove him off a ledge. Speaking of which, the thing he was looking at had three arms, two connected to its low, stooped shoulders, and a single, smaller limb in its chest.

Out of habit, he adjusted the stained and battered glasses, which were still miraculously balanced on the bridge of his nose. It didn't help clear the spatters of blood (alien and human), dust, and other debris, but it made the situation feel a bit more normal. More like the carefully controlled climate of the labs, or his classrooms back at MIT.

Its skin was green and wrinkled, and Gordon was vaguely reminded of some of his favorite childhood characters. Except, E.T. had befriended Elliot, not tried to blast him into oblivion with his space lasers, and Yoda had taught Luke Skywalker the ways of the Force, not shredded him to chunks with razor-sharp talons.

Then there were its eyes, of which it had way more than generally allocated to creatures other than insects. At least, he didn't think it was insectoid. These things could be distant relatives of prehistoric fruit flies for all he knew. It had one, reddish eye in the center of its face, like a cyclops, and three smaller eyes on either side of that.

It certainly wasn't anything he, or anyone else in this doomed facility, had ever encountered before. At least that's what he assumed at first… so many strange things had been happening in the hours — or had it been days? — since the accident that he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Barney would have told him it didn't matter anyways. They were the enemy; as long as they were the enemy, it didn't matter what they were. But Barney wasn't here. For all Gordon knew, Barney was… best not to think about it. Barney was resourceful and competent. Hopefully he had already found a way out of this deathtrap.

Gordon shook his head; he was getting distracted. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was from blood loss, either way he didn't have time to stand around staring at a dead alien. There were people who were counting on him, whether they knew it or not— his colleagues, those marines who kept trying to kill him, maybe even humanity itself. If someone didn't take out the portal punched into the fabric of time and space or whatever, who knew what would happen?

So, Gordon turned, slowly let go of the wall, and took a tentative step forward— clang. His foot hit something, sending it skittering away across the floor. In the dark hallway, he could just make out what it was.

Pressing his hand tighter to his side, Gordon took another slightly shaky step and bent stiffly to retrieve the long, thin, hooked object off the floor. Its once red paint was now hidden beneath a crusted layer of greenish, puss colored slime and blood.

Hefting the crowbar experimentally, Gordon peered up and down the hallway once more. The dim emergency lights flickered down the long corridor, casting unsteady shadows in the darkest corners of the room.

There has to be a first-aid station down here somewhere. With a long sigh, Gordon shifted his grip on the crowbar, pushed his glasses up his nose, and started down the hallway.

[helicrazy]

💬

Send a ‘💬’ to catch a glimpse of a memory my muse has.

Swindle loved valuable things. Vortex enjoyed getting his servos dirty.

This wasn't good news for anyone.

Especially to a high-class Cybertronian who kept a precious gem in his spark casing. Only a few were made and he carried the single one that remained on Cybertron, much to a con mech's disappointment. Thankfully this is where a certain vicious companion can get this difficult job done for him.

The copter stands by to hear all the details from Swindle. Everything from where the ceremony occurs to who will appear, including security measures. No detail gets left out and even though Vortex finds himself bored out of his mind having to listen to it all, he does so with courtesy. At the end of the day, it's a job where he only gets one shot to get what's acquired. Otherwise, the mech will likely go into hiding or put the gem where it'd be impossible to get from. Leaving Swindle empty-handed and upset.

So here the grey Combaticon is, hovering way above in the skies over the blocked-off area where the Conjunx Endura tradition is taking place. There was an option to be a security detail, but he would rather lose his audials than hear all that emotional talk.

"Attention flier! This is a restricted area and you need to leave immediately."

Vortex spots the unexpected visitor and transforms into his root mode. He stares at them with a confused look, even making hand gestures as if he has no idea what the security guard just told him.

The mech attempts to get him to leave verbally but Vortex still pulls the game of not understanding, so they approach with a datapad to type out what they are trying to explain. Except they never get the chance to show it as the Combaticon slices their throat. Cutting deep enough to hit all the major cables and make them fall straight down to where the ceremony is taking place while the grey copter follows.

Consider this as his congratulatory gift.

He watches as the body comes crashing down right beside the couple. Hitting the ground with a crunching sound of metal breaking and everything else exploding upon impact. It catches everyone off guard, and what perfect timing for Vortex to land beside the new Enduras where the mech has his spark casing exposed. Gem revealed too.

Vortex brings the blade down on the mech's neck and uses him as a shield while pulling out a gun to shoot the guards in the area. He makes sure he's in the clear before delivering the final bullet to the high-class sucker straight between the optics. The gun gets put away to yank the gem from the spark casing and removes the blade to push the corpse back.

Easier than anticipated. He'll have to remind Swindle to tone down the briefing next time and just stick to the basics. Even if it is a pricey item or a tough task, the copter can handle it without a problem.

The sounds of someone on the verge of sobbing make him peer away from the gem and see the partner of the mech still standing there. Completely frozen from the events that took place right in front of her or simply too afraid to move.

"Hi~" Vortex greets with a servo on his hip and tossing the gem in the air. He places it in his sub-space while following the femme's optics to her dead Conjunx Endura then back to her. "Don't worry... how's that saying go... there are other opportunities out there for you."

After getting no response, he simply shrugs and walks off stage with a skip in his step, enjoying the music that's still playing in the background along with the distant screams of everyone else.

Now this is the kind of wedding he liked attending.

Perhaps he should grab some dessert on the way out.

[weekend-whip]

Kai + G

G. A Fistfight (Crystalized spoilers! But, like, Legacyverse flavored)

(Send me a letter and a character and I’ll write a small fic!)

AO3 Version

. . .

If we really wanna be technical here, Jay started it.

Kai grunts, his stomach smarting from where Jay just plunged a kick into it. All he did was knock over a cup—entirely by accident, mind you—and now Kai finds himself haphazardly fighting to get back into a standing position. 

Somewhere in the background he hears Lloyd howling for them to stop, Zane half-heartedly trying to intervene, and Cole getting ready to jump on the defense. But all Kai can see in his red-tinged vision is Jay scowling at him, sparks flying at his fingertips.

Jay then lets out some mangled, thunderous cry of emotion, firing off a lightning bolt. Its light dances off all the reflective metal in the hangar, washing over the room in a blinding haze. Shielding his eyes, Kai skirts away from the attack. The static in the air becomes unbearably thick.

Kai glances back at the scorch mark taking the place of where he once stood, then back at Jay, who now charges at him with reckless abandon and irises blazing blue. Kai’s face contorts into a sneer, unrepressed and uncontrolled, all while his own eyes begin to burn with the fire crackling in his soul. Flames lick the center of his palms.

Maybe this had just been a long time coming. 

“Oh, that’s it.”

Kai howls and throws his arms up, conjuring up a shield of fire to protect against whatever Jay’s about to do. Jay claps his hands together and pierces. through it, going right for Kai’s shoulders to drag him down with him. They both hit the floor with a hard thud—Kai kicks Jay off and sweeps his leg around, only to backflip when Jay comes back at him with Spinjitzu. 

Kai flips through the air and alights on his feet, weaving to the left away from another stray bolt of lightning. Jay keeps firing off electricity as hard and as fast as he can, leaving Kai to cast a trail of fire ahead of him and merge into it. Jay sends an electric blast alongside the trail of fire, beating out Kai’s speed. It knocks Kai out the fire; Kai gasps, rolling along the ground.

He catches a glimpse of Jay as the world spirals around; the other’s eyes are sparking with his Element, so profusely that his irises can’t even be seen. The brilliant cobalt that’s normally of a beacon of bright ideas or light-hearted humor has been overtaken by an all-consuming blank white rage. 

It’s as if he’s suddenly become soulless. 

The floor squeaks as Kai scrambles away; Jay’s too fast to hit directly, he realizes. Especially true when the blue fool starts warping around the room, always blipping away the second before Kai’s blasts can land. Kai’s tempted to just light this whole place on fire, leaving nowhere left for Jay to run where Kai can’t reach–

Jay warps behind him and drives a punch into his back, and Kai’s had just about enough of this.

As he falls, Kai whirls on his heel and snags Jay’s wrist. Jay squawks; Kai whips into Spinjitzu, taking Jay along for the ride until he flings him into the table where his little cup collection resides. Jay crashes into it chest first, splitting it in half. All the cups roll and clatter to the floor; some breaking, some spilling, but all of them losing their water in some manner. Jay gawks in horror at the accumulated puddle, then gnashes his teeth together.

He sets his sights on Kai, and like the flip of a switch, he’s suddenly gone.

Kai instinctively takes a step back, and everything slows to a crawl. Light bursts in front of Kai as Jay reappears, mouth opened to release a raw, unhinged scream that buzzes in Kai’s ears like distant, oncoming thunder. Jay’s right hand slowly falls back, curling into a fist, completing the circuit, and igniting with a thousand volts of raw power.

Time speeds back up, Jay’s cries increase in a deafening crescendo, and he’s three seconds away from blasting Kai into oblivion—

—but Kai catches the punch, dissipating the lightning into nothing more than static sparks. Smoke and force fly outwards from how hard Kai stands his ground. Jay remains in the air, and yet, he refuses to quit trying to push through. He is the unstoppable force to Kai’s immovable object, and maybe, just maybe, if he can get him to budge—

“...just knock it OFF already, Jay!” Kai grits through his teeth, digging his fingers into Jay’s fist. Jay winces, but refuses to stop. “Why are you getting this worked up over a dumb cup?!”

“...the CUP?! It’s not about the cup, idiot!” Jay screams, the words vibrating with thunderous rage. He locks fingers with Kai before dragging him forward and down, thrusting him straight into the floor. “It’s about how little you actually CARE!”

The words mentally knock Kai off-balance even more than he already is; Jay drives a knee into Kai’s stomach to make him back off, then punts him away with another kick. Kai falters, falling onto his haunches. 

Peeling his face off the ground with a grunt, Kai funnels every bit of irritation within him into his glare. 

“What—” Urgh, jeez, his chest is going to be so bruised after this... “—What are you even talking about?!” 

“You...” Jay’s so choked up by anger he can hardly talk, but, finally, he lets up on trying to fight. Still hovering, his hands fly to his hair, clutching at his head as he wails, “You hardly reacted at all when she left! Like it didn’t even matter!”

That statement is so wildly accusatory and unbelievable that it throws Kai for a loop. 

“What?!” 

“Why am I the only one that cares that she’s gone?!” Jay hollers. “No one else tried to stop her, no one cried for her as much as I did...and you guys moved on like she was never here at all!”

“You know that isn’t true! First off, she made that choice; she chose to do that for us, and we respected it!” Kai snarls back, hands shaking in front of him. “But even though we did, it hurt like hell! It still hurts, but we can’t spend every day for the rest of our lives consumed by this, Jay! It’s not going to change anything!”

Jay’s face morphs into an expression of shock as Kai lurches, body quaking with poorly repressed anger. He glares at Jay through one eye, doing his absolute best to not just implode right then and there. 

“Cole’s been trying this whole time to make sure her sacrifice wasn’t in vain...Zane turned off his entire ability to feel human just to lock away the hurt her loss left...and Lloyd gave up being the Green Ninja because he couldn’t stand the thought of her being gone!”

Cole and Lloyd wince in the background; Zane doesn’t react at all.

“And you ran off to submerge yourself in the memory of her. And that alone was fine, whatever, it wasn’t hurting anybody...but you don’t get to say we cared any less because we carried on, because what would have been the point in Nya saving our lives if we weren’t even going to live them afterward?!”

Fire bursts out of Kai in furious flashes; Cole and Lloyd wilt away from it, while the flames merely dissipate the second they brush against Zane. Jay finally lowers himself back onto the ground. Guilt washes over him, slowly coming back into himself. 

“But she was your sister,” Jay says, making one last attempt to understand. “She was everything to you...you raised her, you became a ninja for her, you just...let her go, and—”

“…and what? You think I felt nothing?!” Kai grits his teeth, grinding every word he speaks between them. Wisps of smoke leak out from the corners of his mouth. His irises glint with embers. “You think...I still don’t?!”

Kai throws his head back and roars like a lion; Jay recoils, shrinking back as a stream of fire rips from Kai’s throat and shoots so high that almost hits the ceiling of the hangar. Kai snaps back down, fire trailing after him, until it spreads outwards like wildfire. Cole has to conjure up an earth wall to block the flames from reaching Lloyd and Zane, and yet they still wash across the rest of the room in a sea of fire.

Just as he threatened before. Just as he tried not to do before. 

Surrounded by his Element, Kai heaves with every breath. The flames recede in and out with every intake, every exhale, similar to the waves of the ocean against a beach. He lets the heat rise and rise and rise, transforming the hangar into a self-baking oven. The thermometer measures Kai’s growing lack of patience, growing higher and higher until it’s pushed to the threat of breaking.

Kai stalks forward, a predator on the prowl. The flames give way for him in his approach, opening a direct line straight to the now-cowering Jay.

“Is this what you would have wanted, Jay?! Is this the sheer, unabashed fury you wanted to bear witness to?!”

The flames climb into the air again; this time they do hit the ceiling, flooding the whole hangar in a dangerous blaze.

“You want me to get mad?! To get outrageously upset?! To just throw away everything else I care about and make people feel as endlessly terrible the way I do?! To do exactly what you did?!”

Jay struggles to breathe through the heat. He gets dizzy and sinks to his knees, vision going blurry–or, wait, is that just the waves of heat everywhere...?

“You want me to just absolutely lose my mind because this awful, unfair world keeps taking away the most important things from me?!”

But either way, the only thing that’s clear right now are Kai’s infrared eyes in the midst of the orange flames, somehow sporting a more prominent glow than the endless sea of fire that currently envelops them all. Those eyes boil with a once-buried rage that has been simmering for a year...all channeling into Kai’s fist, outwardly burning without shame.

There’s a split second where Kai locks eyes with Jay–just a second–and he pounces, that singular fiery fist ready to return the favor from before. 

Jay, still on his knees, throws up his arms to protect his head on instinct, fearing the strike he’s about to endure. Some small voice in the back of his mind is telling him that hey, maybe he does deserve this—

—but the fist thuds near-harmlessly against his chest, no longer burning. Kai’s hand trembles in the aftermath. 

“…w-well, I’m not going to. I refuse to give the world the satisfaction.”

Kai exhales, and in a single whoosh, all the flames in the hangar are quelled on the spot. 

The fist then twists, grabbing Jay by the collar and dragging him so close that they’re basically face to face. Jay whimpers as Kai forces him to look him in the eye. Both of their gazes are still full of their elements...but then, it becomes clear that they’re both also holding off tears. 

“...who are you, Jay, to say that no one else cared about her death. Just because you and her were yin and yang, that doesn’t make anyone else less important, regardless of how they process their grief!”

Kai hiccups, cursing himself for faltering only now.

“...of course I was angry and upset. But...that’s how I get about everything. For Nya, I...” Kai shrugs, feigning aloofness. “...I didn’t want to become worse. I wanted to try and be something better this time, for her sake.” 

Unable to maintain Kai’s intense stare any longer, Jay lolls his head back, tears falling down his cheeks. He sniffles pitifully, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry…I tried to hurt you…”

Kai nods, his grip going slack. “I’m sorry too.”

“I just—” Jay cuts off, strangled by emotion. “I miss her so much, Kai…!”

“I know, bud. I do too. We all do.” 

Kai releases Jay at last, the fists thrown earlier turning into a hug that both desperately need. They throw themselves at each other like magnets; Jay buries his face in Kai’s shoulder, body wracked with sobs, while Kai clutches desperately at Jay’s clothes. Kai eventually breaks down too, hiding his face in the jungle of curls upon his brother’s head. 

“...but she wouldn’t want this from us, either.”

[grihm]

PLOTTED STARTER for : @e1igius

♱˖ ─── THERE WAS A PARTICULAR SOLACE THAT SHILOH found in the sound of her own footsteps that night, the quiet patter of combat boots against the pavement filling the silence in the same way that gentle ripples might stir the surface of still waters. Peaceful and almost SERENE, even amidst the smog and grime of the city streets. After the chaos that had just chased her from her own apartment, however, it was no stretch of the imagination to assume that just about anything would be a welcome change, so long as she could hear her own thoughts again…

            The voices had started off as little more than murmurs, their cries floating through the peeling wallpaper of old walls, carried on the muted notes of languid echoes. Obscure, distant. They’d been easy enough to ignore at first, especially after so many years of ineludible practice. But as one voice became two, and two became three, four, five… whispers became shouts, and shouts became screams. They grew louder. ANGRIER. The ringing in the young woman’s head became violent with the swelling potency of bottled-up anguish, the cries of lost souls crashing into her like the relentless tide of an incensed sea. Scorned and furious came their laments, their agony felt so deep within the pit of the brunette’s chest that she could only assume that the scent of blood that conned her senses was seeping from wounds in her SOUL.

            The torment had been more than sufficient to convince the woman to brave the streets in the middle of the night, especially if it would garner her even a moment of relief from the hurricane that was raging inside of her head. As life kept reminding her, however, she wasn’t LUCKY, and the beating of a second pair of footsteps trailing behind her ensured that she wouldn’t foolishly forget.

            Still, after the chaotic ordeal in her apartment, ignoring the stranger seemed almost too easy. Shiloh had been tuning people out since childhood just to cope, and so it was only natural that she’d become adept at building impromptu barriers. Even the sort of ghosts that used to make her blood run COLD and keep her up with spine-chilling nightmares hardly made her flinch now, their presence blurring into the background like the fading remnants of a shadow that was kissed by sunlight. Years of walking along the edge of a knife had allowed her to build up a dangerous but necessary tolerance to jeopardy; a numbness that, if left unchecked, would surely lead her straight into her own self-inflicted DAMNATION. There was a key difference between threats like the man that was trailing behind her and the hauntings in her head, however…

            GHOSTS COULDN’T TOUCH HER.

[flirtatiousgreen]

📱for a voicemail my muse left yours.

BEEEEP

Immediately the sound of distant chaos is obvious, if muted in the background.

"Heeeyyyyy, mister Boss CEO guy." Awkward laughter. "So uh. Not that anything is happening but if something uhm." Awkward laugh. "If there were trouble happening, say uh... again, definitely not happening, but say, uhm. Dragons, like, totally not real but definitely flying ones, were to be trashing stuff- hypothetically speaking- what uhm. Is there someone who should be called about this? Hypothetically, of course- FUCK!"

Something loud crashes into something else and the sound of shattering glass precedes the sound in the background to become louder, becoming obvious as screaming.

"WHOm- UH, who do I call if that happens?! Thanks BYE!"