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forever-rogue · 3 years

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In Name Only - Part 20

A/N: Hello, my sunshines! We’ve come to the second to last part. I hope you and enjoy and I think this is what we’ve been waiting for... As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: none

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

One Year Later

“Sunshine?” as soon as you heard his voice, a sense of panic settled into your bones as you quickly hid the items in your hands in the trunk beneath your bed. There was just enough time to push it back under the golden frame and obscure it with the blanket before jumping to your feet.

Oberyn pushed open the door and poked his head in, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, “I was wondering where you were - the children told me they hadn’t seen you all morning save for a few moments at breakfast.”

“Indeed, they tell you the truth,” you agreed with a tight lipped smile and a raise of eyebrows, “I’ve been...quite busy.”

“Just what are you hiding, my dear wife?” he came into your shared chambers and shut the door behind him, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a look of amusement on his face. Mimicking his posture, you tried to put on a neutral expression before scoffing lightly at him.

“You are bold to assume something of that nature, dearest husband,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried not to steal a glance back at the trunk, “I have a household to help run, multiple children to keep after, and a husband that always seems to require my assistance. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be simply busy?"

"It has indeed," he took a step closer and rubbed his chin in mock thought, "but I also know that is not the case right now. What are you hiding, pretty girl?"

"Nothing," you insisted as he raised an eyebrow. He stepped even closer and put a finger under your chin and turned your face to meet his, "you're not playing fair now!"

"Am too," he whispered as he leaned close enough to brush his lips against yours, "it is not my fault you can't say no to me."

"Oberyn," you tried to be firm, you really did, but you were no match for your husband's charm. His large, warm hands found purchase onyour waist as he pulled flush against his body. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck as you crashed your lips against his.

And just as always, he kissed you like it was the first time, like he was still madly in love with you (he was, of course), like it was the only thing in life he craved. Kissing him always managed to be such a blissful, saccharine thing, and you never seemed to get enough, even when you were left breathless.

Reluctantly, you pulled back to catch your breath and rested your forehead against his. Oberyn, feeling ever so cheeky, stole a few more kisses, "are you going to tell me now? Come on, Sunshine."

"Nice try," you offered him one last kiss, as he playfully pouted, "you're not getting anything from me. And even if I was hiding something, my lips are sealed!"

"Sunshine-"

"Oberyn," you walked out of his delicate grasp and headed for the door, "let go of this silly notion! But for now, help me round up the children!"

"I will find out-"

"Umm…" the door to your chambers opened after a loud knock, followed by a nervous faced Asha, "I hope this isn't a bad time...I feel like I've always got the worst timing but I need you both to come with me…and before you ask, the children are all well...its ummm….just come with me. Quickly."

Exchanging a worried glance with Oberyn, you held out your hand, which he quickly took before the two of you followed after the young girl. She was practically flying to the kitchens, casting a look backwards here and there to make sure you were still following.

"Asha? Why such haste? Are you sure everything is alright?" you tightly squeezed your husband's hand as you tried to figure out what could possibly have happened. It hadn't been long since you'd left breakfast and gone to tend to your little project before Oberyn found you. It was hard to imagine what could have happened in the short amount of time.

"Its-"

Before she could another word, you could hear soft, insistent cries coming from the other end of the kitchen. Your hand fell from Oberyn’s as confusion muddled your features. He appeared just as confused and awestruck as you as the cries continued.

“A baby?” you whispered as you turned to your husband momentarily. He shrugged, suggesting that he had no clue what was going on either. Turning back to Asha, you could see had paled lightly, “is that a baby? Who's had a baby...how? When?"

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching for your arm and dragging you into the kitchen. Your eyes immediately landed on a small, golden bundle all wrapped in a basket on the counter. Some small movement came from the blankets as the cries seemed to turn to soft coos, “i-it’s a newborn, I think anyway, he’s so tiny. Someone left him outside the delivery gates a little ago.”

“A newborn babe?” you asked softly before taking a step closer, wondering if it was the right thing to do, “did anyone see anything? Was there a note? Anything at all?”

“I’m afraid not...he was by himself,” she confessed, “i-it’s not uncommon...well in other parts of the kingdoms for mothers, or parents that can’t keep their babies for whatever reason to leave the newborn babes at the homes of those more fortunate, hoping they’ll take them in or find them a better home.”

“Has this ever happened before? Here?” you turned to look at Oberyn, who simply shook his head at you, “so there’s nothing as to his origins? He’s just...alone?”

“Yes,” she answered, “I just...I panicked and I didn’t know what to do. He's so small and he's going to need someone to care for me. S-should I....should he go to the orphanage?”

“No,” you answered quickly, surprising both of them in turn as they cast curious glances at you. Oberyn was already working at suppressing the grin that threatened to erupt on his features, “not yet, anyway. M-may I see him?”

“Of course,” she bowed her head lightly before stepping to the side, “I’ll get back to my duties. When you need me, let me know and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Thank you,” Oberyn’s hand found your shoulder as you look at him with a worried expression on your face, “what’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, “not yet...it’s just...I can’t help but to worry about him....”

Walking over to the counter, you hesitantly looked into the sea of blankets and found a curious pair of brown eyes looking at you. His small pouty lips formed a blubbering smile as he flailed his little arms. A smile worked its way onto your face as Oberyn stood behind you, a hand settling on your hip, “he’s beautiful.”

“He is,” slowly, tentatively you reached hand towards him and stroked his little chubby cheek. He had a light shock of dark hair already, and you couldn’t help but think of Oberyn, “how old do you think he is?”

“I’d wager that he can’t be more than a month old,” Oberyn whispered as he looked down at the small boy, “he’s young, so small still.”

“Oberyn…” you looked at your husband with curious eyes, watching as he looked at the little boy in awe. He was still a stranger, but seemed to trust you already, as if he'd known the two of you before. His hand reached for your finger, curling around it in amusement.

“What are you thinking, Sunshine?” he whispered as he studied you in turn, “tell me.”

“I don’t want to send him to the orphanage….” you felt your eyes well up with the familiar sting of tears, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with a wash of emotions, “I...I don’t think we should.”

You looked at the small baby and your maternal instinct seemed to kick into the overdrive. You loved all of your children, and had enjoyed getting to call the twins your own for the last year, and forever more of course, but there was something about the opportunity to raise this baby that caused you some pause. It didn’t mean that you loved your children any less or anything of the sort, but it was just a different experience. Oberyn must have sensed what you were thinking because he reached up and tenderly cradled your face, stroking over your cheek, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“What if we...what if we kept him?” you whispered softly as he wiped away the tear that had pearled up and rolled down your cheek, “what if there’s a reason someone left him here - if he was meant to find us? We could raise him as our own...I know it’s a lot, Oberyn, but I think we could do it…”

“As I have always said, I’ve found that things always work out how they’re supposed to, that they play out as they were intended to,” he agreed gently, “perhaps there is a reason we were lucky enough to be the ones to find him. There is always more room in our family for another member, more than enough love to give. You are a wonderful mother, and any child would be lucky to call you theirs. I love you more than you will ever know.”

“Oberyn…” the corners of your mouth quivered in a teary eyed smile, “I love you so much. There is no one better I could have ever asked for - not a better friend, father, husband, or lover.”

He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and only stopped at your lips, gently brushing his against yours. But before you could steal a final kiss, your ears were met with a few gentle, excited sounding coos from the basket. Pausing for a moment, the two of you broke into a fit of giggles. Oberyn pressed a kiss to the side of your heading before nodding towards the baby.

Turning back to him, you slowly reached into the basket and picked him up, holding him securely in your arms before bringing him to your chest and gently rocking him. Once he calmed down and stopped squirming, you cradled him so you could get a better look at him. He was a chubby little thing, so young and new still, but his eyes were already so bright and curious. There was something about the way he looked at you and wrapped his hand around your index finger that made your heart melt and you knew that you were making the right decision.

“He’s lovely,” you said softly, “we’re going to need a name for him, Oberyn. We can’t just call him...him.”

“Priorities, priorities,” he chuckled as you stuck your tongue out at him, “I think I will leave that up to you, my Sunshine. Whatever you come up with will be perfect. Just like you and our family.”

“Not perfect,” you slowly, ever so gently, passed the baby to him, letting the Prince get to hold his new son for the first time. Ever the expert, he had the little one nestled in his arm in no time; the sight was enough to make you want to cry all over, “not perfect, but filled with a lot of love and good things. Just like this.”

“Just like this,” he agreed with a small smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oh Nym - no, no, no, my love,” your eyes winded in panic as you watched your son clutch at the robe you had abandoned for a few moments. He looked back at you with wide, innocent eyes as he giggled and waved his chubby little fists. You walked back over and pulled the almost six month into your lap as you released his grasp on the fabric, “silly little one, that’s for your Papa! Can’t go on slobbering all over it just yet - that’ll be after we give it to him!”

You wrapped the delicate, silken fabrics back up before tucking them back into the trunk at the foot of the bed. After almost six months of work, six months of slow labor, your Name Day gift for Oberyn was finally ready. You were glad you’d had enough forethought to start planning for it so early and make sure you would have it ready in time. Scooping the babbling baby back into your arms, you set him on your hip as you left your chambers. The sounds of laughter and screaming children had been pouring in loudly from the gardens, and you could spy that they were setting up for Oberyn’s name day celebration.

“Let’s go find your brother and sisters,” you grinned as you kissed the top of his head; he already had a mop of curls starting that surely would rival Oberyn’s one day, “everyone should be here soon, and your Papa will be back just in time for his big celebration!"

Ever the cunning planner, you’d arranged for Doran and Oberyn to attend to business outside of Sunspear for the last couple of days. And luckily for you, Oberyn hadn’t suspected a thing; you’d never sneaked around in such a manner before and on top of it all, Doran had easily gone along with your little ploy. He’d promised to keep his lips sealed and offered to help however you needed. Luckily, between yourself, Ellaria, and all the children, it had practically been a breeze to plan it all. It was a privileged thing, you realized, to be surrounded by such love and generosity, but you always took full advantage of it all.

“Mama!” Saria’s excited voice reached your ears as soon as she ran up to you and wrapped her arms around your waist, “did you see all the people? There’s so many people all here for Papa!”

“And you, and your brothers and sisters,” you promised her, gently ruffling her dark curls, “have you all been helping getting everything set up?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded eagerly, “and so many berries and fruits! Papa always shares with me, do you think he will this time too?”

“Of course, my sweetest little bee,” you promised, “your Papa would give them all to you if that’s what you wanted. And before you ask - of course he’ll share cake with you and everyone else too!”

“Yay,” she clapped her hands as she jumped up and down.

“My love,” Ellaria smiled warmly at the two of you before putting her hands on Saria’s shoulders, “why don’t you go and find your brother and sisters and all get changed for the big party? I expect that all of you will be clean and dressed before the sun starts to set? Do you think you can do that for us?”

“Of course,” she adopted a serious expression before displaying a wide, gap toothed grin, “I’ll go and get everyone ready!”

You looked at Ellaria and offered a thankful smile before moving a silent thank you at her. She shot a quick wink before holding her arms to you to relieve you of the baby in your arms. You kissed the top of Nymeros’ dusting of curls before passing him to Ellaria.

“He grows more handsome everyday,” she cooed at him as she peppered his cheeks in kisses, “and you - more beautiful every day. Motherhood suits you, it has always suited you, sweet girl. You’ve really become the backbone of this household. Seeing how he is now, I don’t know how Oberyn survived without you.”

“I think my husband has managed quite well without me,” you laughed lightly, “I just help him remain more organized and on track. It’s not much, but I think we’ve fallen into a nice routine.”

“I’ve never seen him better than with you,” Ellaria insisted as he bounced the baby on her hip, “he’s madly in love with you, you do realize that right?”

“Ellaria...you...I’m not you, and I know it doesn’t matter, but I think about that sometimes,” you admitted softly, brushing your hand over the linen cloth on one of that tables that was slowly becoming laden with food, “not in a bad way, but I...I’ll never be you.”

“Exactly,” she simply smiled at you, putting her hand on top of yours, “that’s what he loves about you. We had many happy years together, sweet girl, and we share daughters that we love more than anything. We were in love back then, but that was a different time and we were different people back then. But you are the one he’s in love with, not me. And that’s okay, you must always remember that. His heart belongs to you, and yours to his. Just like it was meant to be. You have never seen the way he looks at you, when you’re not looking at him. I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way before. And don’t even try to argue with me - I know him better than anyone...except for you of course.”

“I love him madly as well,” you bit your lip shyly as you caught her eye, “he’s...everything to me. He’s given me so much and I can only hope to mean a fraction to him of what he means to me.”

“You mean everything to him,” she insisted softly, “trust me.”

Before you could say anything, a loud commotion wandered into the courtyard as you turned around to find Oberyn standing there with a surprised look on his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Ellaria nudged you lightly in his direction as his eyes found you, “go to him, sweet dove.”

“Oberyn,” you practically beamed as you dashed over to him, throwing yourself into his outstretched arms, “my moon and stars, you’re home!”

“Sunshine,” he grinned as he effortlessly picked you up and spun around before pressing a hungry kiss to your lips, “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a few days,” you grinned at him “could you really have missed me that much?”

“Of course,” he whispered softly, “what’s all this then? So much commotion and calamity...I daresay I believe you have been up to something.”

“And you, dear husband,” you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze,”are home much earlier than expected. Of course you’ve come along and ruined your little surprise. Ever the perfect timing, my love.”

“What surprise?” he raised his eyebrows as you sighed and nodded in jest.

“Don’t play coy with me, Oberyn Martell,” you playfully pushed him, “it’s your Name Day celebration, my love. So I suppose I should just say it now, Happy Name Day! I love you more than you will ever know.”

“You’ve planned all of this for me?” he asked in awe as you nodded lightly, “it’s just a Name Day.”

“Your Name Day,” you insisted as you grabbed the front of his lapels before kissing him deeply, “and I wanted to do something special for you. The children helped me plan it of course. They’re been eager for so long...let’s just say that we’ve been planning this for months. Forty-five is something to celebrate, Oberyn!”

“You make me sound so old,” he teased as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against him. You scoffed lightly before laughing at him as he peppered you in kisses, “I love you so much, my Sunshine. Thank you for this, truly. I couldn’t imagine anything better.”

“I would do it a million times over to see that smile, even if it would be once more,” you promised as Ellaria walked over to you. As soon as little Nym saw his father, he blubbered excitedly and made grabby hands at him. Oberyn’s face lit up as he reached for his son and clutched him tightly to his chest, but not before kissing him and cooing at him softly.

“Hello love,” Ellaria pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you’re looking well. We’ve all missed you.”

“Ellaria,” he bowed his head at her, “radiant as ever, and ever the welcome sight. Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” she insisted, “we’re family, Oberyn. We always will be. Now why don’t you two go and get dressed and get ready for the celebration. I’ll handle the rest of the preparations.”

“Come on then, my little love,” he brushed his nose gently against Nym’s before reaching for your hand, “come on, my Sunshine. Let us go and get dressed. We have a party to attend it seems!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were sat at Oberyn’s right hand side, watching as everyone carried on chattering happily as they ate and drank and danced to music. It had been a long feast and the children were slowly growing tired and weary; Oberyn had Alistar and Loreza on his lap as he told them all sorts of stores, while Nym slept soundly in your arms and Dorea was on your lap. The others were running around and dancing. His hand held yours almost the entire time, fingers brushing over your soft skin, a reassuring squeeze here and there. It was a glorious thing to watch him, so animated and happy as he chatted away with the children and everyone that stopped by to bless him.

He was handsome as ever, his dark curls adorned with a simple golden circlet that glittered in the firelight, a never ending smile on his face, and a lovely twinkle in his chocolate eyes. A few times he had caught you simply staring, and mouth a quiet what? to which you’d simply responded with a small nothing. He was wearing new robes of golden and bronze, cut and tailored exactly to his proportions and complimenting him perfectly. It was hard to believe that you were just as in love with him now as you had been back when you first started falling for him.

Before the night could get too far gone, you handed the children off to Arianne, who was more than happy to be of assistance. Standing to your full height, you picked up the knife and slowly tapped against your wine goblet to make enough noise to gather everyone’s attention. It wasn’t long before all eyes turned to you and you reached for Oberyn’s hand, delicately taking it in yours. The way he looked back at you was enough to make you melt then and there.

“First of all, I want to thank you all for graciously accepting my invitation to come here and celebrate my husband’s Name Day with us,” you bowed your head slightly at the multitude of guests that were milling about the table and courtyard, “although I’m sure that no one needed an excuse to drink and have fun.”

After a bit of laughter, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Oberyn’s soft lips; he responded as he normally did, by gently pulling you into him and letting your touch linger. After a moment, you playfully swatted his hands away, realizing that all eyes were still on you.

“Anyways,” you smirked at him, “I want to thank you all for coming and I want to give the biggest thank you of all to my husband, Oberyn Nymeros Martell. You are the love of my life, my best friend, my partner, and the best father to our children. A few years ago I could not have imagined this life - a life filled with so much laughter, love, adventure, and joy. You have given me everything I could have imagined and more. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much that it still manages to take your breath away every time - until you. I know things aren’t always perfect between us - we’re both stubborn and bullheaded at times, but there is no one else I’d rather spend my days with than you, no one I’d rather go to bed with in the evening. Thank you for loving me and letting me love you in return. And on this, the happiest of name days, I wish you nothing but happiness and many, many more to come, my moon and stars.”

By the end, you were speaking only to him, your eyes locked on yours as you spied his glistening with a few tears. He took your hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “and to my lovely wife - a big thank you.”

“Cheers,” you raised your wine glasses and took a long drink of it. You motioned for everyone to restart their festivities as you sat back down next to him and he pulled you closer to him, “happy Name Day, my love."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"I think he's finally asleep," you whispered as you looked in the small crib that was across your chambers, where Nym was finally sleeping. He'd been fussy all evening and getting him down was a challenge, but miraculously you'd managed. Stroking his little you cheek, you grinned at him, "good night, my little love."

Oberyn was already posted up in bed, watching you with interest as you flounced back over and dove under the bed, "what are you up to?"

"I'm afraid I have one more surprise for you," you pulled the trunk out from under the bed and slowly opened. You bit the inside of your cheek before grinning at him, "its nothing much, but I hope you like it."

Standing up slowly, you displayed the sunset orange robe that you'd spent months working on. It was embroidered with golden suns and snakes, along with a few bees here and there, but the touch you cared about the most was the smallest detail. On the inside of the lapels you had sewn each of his children's names, starting from oldest to youngest.

"Sunshine," his breath hitched in his throat as he slipped out of bed and over to you, "did you make this?"

"I did," you grinned as he took the robe and gently ran his fingers over the delicate fabric, "I've been working on it for some time...you've almost caught me several times! What do you think? You don't have to wear it if you don't fancy it of course."

He quickly cut you off by pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one hand on the back of your head as he held you close, "I love it. It's beautiful - this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe you'd do this all for me."

"I wanted to," you promised, "besides, what do you get a Prince that has everything? Look at the lapels...personally they’re my favorite part.”

And so he did, slowly running his finger over the dainty gold embroidery that spelled out each of his children’s names, starting with Obara and ending with Nymeros. He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat before turning back to you. His mouth opened and closed a few times before finally managed to come up with some words, “this is amazing. I will treasure this in my heart forever, just like you. I don’t think there are quite the right words to thank you for this, or adequately convey how I’m feeling.”

“A simple thank you was more than good enough,” you promised as you stroked his cheek tenderly, “I would do anything to see that smile grace your features, my love. I wanted you to have something special, just for you. I’m so glad you like it. I love you more than you know, Oberyn.”

He was silent as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm and pulled you into him. How easily you molded against his body, just like you had been made to fit there. He rested his head on your shoulders as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. He hummed in content as you held him, lightly swaying with him in your arms.

“I have a small surprise for you too,” he whispered when he pulled back and you offered him a lot of curiosity. This was supposed to be about him, but of course, he’d find some way to make it about you too - that was the beauty of Oberyn Martell. He gave and gave and gave and asked for so little in return.

“Oberyn! You absolutely should not have! It’s your day, not mine,” he offered up a cheeky shrug before walking back over to his bureau, gently playing down the robe, and reaching into the top drawer, quickly pulling out something that glinted brilliantly in the candle light, “Oberyn?”

“I had these made,” he opened up his large hand to display a small necklace, intricately designed from the look of the gold and silver. As you reached up to touch them, you realized it was a sun and moon, perfectly nestled together, “sun and moon - a perfect balance and harmony. When we’re together, they’ll be together, but even when we’re apart, we’ll have a piece of each other.”

“You are a fool,” you whispered as a few tears welled up in your eyes and threatened to spill over, “an absolute fool of a man. But I am madly in love with you. You had these made?”

“I did,” he laughed lightly at the sweet look on your features, “just for you - and for me.”

You ran a hand over the pendants, admiring the craftsmanship of them; they were small but so well made and it was easy to see how much love and effort went into them. When you met his eyes, he motioned for you to turn around. Knowing exactly what his intention was, you lifted your hair and let him clasp the small moon around your neck. It set perfectly, and left warm against your skin. You took the other one and repeated the motions on him, but wrapped your arms around his waist once you were finished and pressed a few kisses to the bare skin of his shoulder, “I can’t believe you did this. There are some days that I still think this must all be some sort of wild fever dream. Surely in no life did I ever do anything to deserve you.”

“I assure you, it’s all very real,” he promised, taking a hand and bring it to the spot just above his heart while you listened to its steady beating, “do you hear how it beats so? It beats only for you. Do you feel how it calls for you? My Sunshine - even on the darkest days you bring light into my life. I would do anything for you. You are my heart, my home, my family - everything.”

“Oberyn,” a few tears had rolled on his golden skin and he quickly moved to wipe them away, “I…”

“At no point did I think I would fall in love with this wild, young girl that seemed to heed no one,” he admitted as he cradled your face, “never did I expect you to love a man like me. Two very different people from different worlds, so alike and so different. But then I saw that smile and heard that laugh and I knew that I was a goner then and there. You proved yourself so kind and gentle with such an open and pure heart, so different from this hardened and weary man. But I knew I could never force anything you did not want upon you, you did not deserve that. If this had been in name only forever, then I could have lived with that, albeit less happily, but getting to call you my wife would have been a privilege either way. I do not know if words could ever be an accurate summation of exactly how much you mean to me.”

“No?” you asked softly as you looked at him with trembling lips from your efforts not to cry completely, “because they’re pretty damn good. How am I supposed to compete with that? It’s your Name Day and yet you are the one whispering such honeyed words to me. I do not...Oberyn, my love...I...every day with you, even our worst days, days we might argue or not agree on everything, are the best days because I have you by my side. You have shown me nothing but love and compassion and...everything since the day we met. I couldn’t ask the gods, the universe, whatever it is, for a better person. I will love you until the end of time, in this lifetime and the next.”

“Those words are pretty good too,” he kissed your forehead, “I mean, they could use a little tweaking, but they’ll do.”

“Oberyn!” you broke into a fit of giggles before clapping your hands in amusement, “very well, my love. You must feel very proud of yourself for that.”

“It’s up there,” he agreed, “but I meant it - every word of it.”

“I know,” you bit your lip and nodded, nuzzling your nose against his, “I know. Why don’t we-”

Before you could say anything else, the sound of a few soft cries met your ears and you both turned to look at the cradle.

“Go on into bed,” he gave your bum a pat, “I’ll get him settled down.”

“Bring him,” you insisted as you slipped under the soft blankets. Oberyn quickly made his way across the room and had Nym resting again his chest as he made his way back. While you definitely had a way with your son, Oberyn was like a magic charm; no matter how fussy or upset the baby was, he always managed to get him settled down in time.

“There we are,” he got in next, resting against the headboard as the Nym slept on his warm, tan chest, and you instantly wrapped yourself around him. It was hard to imagine that so much of your heart, so much of your world, was right there, within two people, “alright, Sunshine?”

“Yes,” you promised softly, gently resting a hand on Nym’s back, “I’m perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only #ino #i am so happy about this part #but i also never want to say goodbye to them!

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

Text

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Revelations

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of death, violence enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (ohohoho we’re so hot on it now, just wait until the end of this one)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Thank you so, so much to everyone who has left comments, screamed in reblog tags, and just encouraged me to create this story. I have never felt so much love for a fic in the time I’ve been writing.

This chapter reveals a lot, and it’s a little longer than the rest, but it’s for good reason- the end of this is one of my favorite things I’ve written.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Reiner’s apartment truly wasn’t much. You thought he’d been joking, perhaps was even being humble, but the small studio apartment was quite dismal. The walls were stark white, a few faded posters peeling off the wall from neglect, a couple of medals and trophies lining a small bookshelf that was bursting with paperbacks and notebooks. A simple bed with a royal blue comforter and overstuffed pillows, the most compact L-shaped couch in front of a tv, and a corner dominated by a desk with two monitors and stacks of documents, manila envelopes, and crates of papers crammed below.

A kitchenet that looked hardly used was tucked away in another corner, the entryway to a small bathroom right near it.

There was truly nothing worth looking twice at, save a handful of framed photos scattered around.

You’d taken it all in rather hurriedly, still out of breath from practically running through snowy alleyways, the developing snowstorm covering the land like fresh linen. There was a window near his bed, which you gravitated toward after kicking off your damp boots by the door. Not much a view, either. Just more desolate, brick buildings and a sorry looking street below.

He told you once that he didn’t grow up with much, and it unfortunately seemed like despite joining the ranks of the military, he was still left with close to nothing.

“What are we here for?”

He was busy toiling with the thermostat, thick fingers mashing against the heat button to try to warm the small box of an apartment.

“You won’t like it,” he grumbled, golden eyes glancing over to you with a tinge of regret painting his brow.

“Then why bring me?”

“Because you need to see it.”

You tucked your hands under your arms, the chill of the winter’s day finally settling into your bones.

You watched keenly as he shrugged off his snow laden jacket, hanging it by the door before promptly locking it. He seemed as out of breath as you were, nose red from the cold, hands shaking as he fumbled with his phone. You bit the inside of your cheek with impatience, a small flame of ire licking its way into your chest.

Bringing you out here could get you killed. He knew that, right? Of course he did, but he did it anyways. Surely this matter of seemingly great importance could’ve been fetched by one of his comrades. You hadn’t quite considered the danger leaving the headquarters could bring upon you until you were dashing through the streets, the heavy paw of Reiner’s hand squeezing around your wrist. At one point in time, he’d shoved you back down another corridor, shielding you with the size of his body as particular caravan of cars turned down the roadway. He seemed to fear any pair of government eyes spying you.

He always was so careless.

He was busy texting someone, still standing idle, lip worried between his teeth.

Must be the girl you ran into that’s giving him a headache. He probably thought he could slip out and back again without a soul noticing, without anyone giving him grievance, but that bright eyed little cousin of his had ruined that. She’d been so excited to see him; he probably hadn’t been to see his family quite a while, seeing that he was on guard duty after his last mission.

How many days had it been since you’d been here? You’d honestly lost track of time, your world feeling like it had been caught in a slow turn of molasses. A few seconds could feel like hours, days felt like minutes, every heartbeat felt like it could be your last. You tried to add it all up in your head, eyes closing as you replayed all the events that led to you standing in Reiner Braun’s home in Marley.

A week and a half, you surmised. But it could be a little more, a little less. You think you would have kept your eyes on the sun a little more acutely, seeing that you’d missed it rise and fall for at least two days when you were bound in that cell.

“Are you alright?”

For a moment, you thought you had spoken the words. You were thinking them, but he asked you instead.

“That’s a loaded question,” you looked back down to the street, catching the sight of a line of what appeared to be school children marching in tandem down the sidewalk, snow in their hair and happiness on their faces, “but for the moment, I’m okay.”

Reiner pulled his lips to the side, considering your words. Maybe it hadn’t dawned on him that you couldn’t have been in any state of ease since you’d been promptly abducted and plopped down in this new world to navigate.

“Are you alright?” You encored, observing how his worried thumbs were still fast against the screen.

“Have I ever been?”

You made at face at that reply, corners of your mouth turning down while your shoulders shrugged. Fair enough.

Though, for the first time, a bit of pity crept into your mind. Reiner didn’t really ask for this life, did he? He was doing whatever he could to get by, fallen rather inelegantly into the position of being sent to Paradis, and was now being handed you to watch over, presumably without his full consent. You were both pawns in this world, kings and rooks dominating the board and playing you both for fools.

Being a Scout hadn’t been your intention, either. You’d once had other dreams: college, a career, a family, but you’d been grandfathered into the role by your government working parents, and cemented into it when they’d died. You had nothing else to do, so you served. You served your country, your friends, but you also served yourself, using the role to keep your life afloat, even if it sometimes meant spilling the lifeblood of others, even if it meant sacrificing aspirations and settling. Though, you would admit that some rather beautiful things managed to bloom from the barren soil. Regrettably, those had all been left behind, washed away by tides you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” Reiner grunted, sinking into the cushions of the couch, “she—she already opened her mouth. I’ve gotten Annie to settle things at HQ, but I imagine Chief is still furious.”

“Is it such a bad thing to take me out here? I mean, you could easily stop me if I tried to run away.”

“Could I?”

You debated his question. While you were quite nimble, you’d be like a rat in a maze trying to find a way out of this god forsaken place.

“If I let you,” you reasoned, a tinge of humor behind your words.

He smiled, all warm and soft, full lips parting. The realization that you hadn’t seen him smile in years pummeled into your chest like a heavy hand stealing from your lungs. It made the sorrow that much more palpable.

“For the record, Zeke is more upset I didn’t ask permission. He’s hellbent on his authority.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You also pinpointed something else of note, a picture glinting on his nightstand catching your attention.

It resembled the same one you’d seen on Zeke’s desk, only now you could make out the faces. Reiner didn’t pay you any mind as you reached for the framed memory, plucking it from its home, dust from the back of it staining your fingers.

A red booth housed five familiar faces, all grinning over half-drank pints of beer. Their arms were interlocked around each other’s shoulders, all the men young and handsome, Reiner and Bertholdt even more youthful than when they’d first walked through the doors of the Scout Office. Then there was Zeke seated next to Porco, the latter in that green jacket you’d seen him in earlier. But your eyes were set on a face you’d never thought you’d see again, a face that possessed the very recesses of your mind, only appearing late at night when you’d see it in corners, catch it lingering behind your eyelids. He was attractive, appeared personable, messy dark hair and distinct brow that matched the boy next to him.

“Reiner…” you whispered, still unmoving from your spot between the bed and the window pane, “who is this?”

He peered over his shoulder, any hint of a smile now vanished like etchings being erased from a page.

“You don’t recognize him?”

Him, a photo full of faces, and he knew who you were asking about. He’d probably stared too long at the ghost himself. You wondered if he ever placed the frame down at night to sleep better; you would have, if you’d killed someone you cared about.

“You know I do.”

Reiner held his hand out, long arm stretched across the back of the couch. You finally talked your feet into moving, shuffling across the hardwood as you placed the offending item into his upturned palm.

Then, you sat next to him, your knees bumping together as you tried to analyze the emotions stirring within. You couldn’t quite place any of them—Regret? Fear? Curiosity? Sadness? But they were quelled when Reiner placed his hand on your twitching thigh, pressing that anxiousness away for a moment.

“Marcel Galliard, Porco’s older brother.”

Your lips parted, both of your attentions centered on the souvenir held between you.

“It was his birthday, and we hadn’t had the chance to celebrate mine and Zeke’s yet either, so we all went out for drinks. I unfortunately don’t remember much from that night, but I remember being…happy, content.”

“Why’d you do it?” you asked it a little quickly, “why would you…save me, not him?”

“I told you, some things I don’t have a choice about.”

“But you—you could’ve said he killed me and got away, right? You did have a choice.”

You saw how his jaw clenched, muscles in his cheek flexing.

“I don’t know.” Agony lined his voice, the words soft, hushed.

That situation was something you both thought about far too often than you’d like to admit, a late-night mulling that never led to conversation.

“I’m sorry.” You took the photo away, placed it face down on the coffee table.

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past,” he said solemnly.

You could, however, lament it. Which is something you did perhaps too often.

━━━─── • ───━━━

Reiner wasn’t ready for what was to come. He knew he never would be, which is why he threw precaution to the wind and decided to lay his cards on the table now.

He had to pick a side. Even if these wars didn’t truly concern him, even if the fate of countries ultimately didn’t matter to his conscious, you did—you mattered, he mattered, and he had to start thinking about things on a smaller scale.

He wanted to go back to Paradis. He practically yearned to go back in time, to return to a place where being Eldian didn’t matter, where his status didn’t matter, where he could remake himself into something new. If it hadn’t been for his binds connecting him to Marley, he could’ve actually seen hope instead of sorrow on the horizon. He could never seem to cut the vines, could never actually get away from the people controlling his life.

But now, now he saw an out, and it was with you. When this cataclysm first happened, all he wanted was for you to be dead, for you to go away and leave him and his miseries alone to rot and wither. Being with you, however, reminded him of a life he could have. He just had to make it happen, he had to start molding his own clay, had to keep bearing the weight of the world like the weary Atlas until he could find a way to make it turn in his favor.

He was tired of wishing for death.

Which is why he had to bring you here and why he would handle the consequences that were waiting in the distance.

You might not be very helpful to Marley, but he could be of use to Paradis.

“I believe you,” he hadn’t noticed he was still touching you, fingers gripping onto your leg like a lifeline, “about Zeke. I believe you because I—we, Pieck, Annie, Bertie—we know he’s up to something beyond what he tells us and the generals. He is working with someone in Paradis. We don’t know who, but we do think we know what for.”

“Oh my god…oh my god. Why didn’t you—”

“You think I can just fucking say that when anyone could be outside my door listening?”

“I thought you said I wouldn’t like what you have to show me.”

He noticed how your shoulders relaxed, like you’d been holding in tension for far too long.

“That’s not…I have something else for you.”

He didn’t move just yet, not quite ready to actually set this all in motion.

This all hinged on you. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you quite well; of course, that was the you of four years ago. The you he had next to him now was older, scarred, burdened, but he still felt that same magnetic pull to you that he could never explain. He was just a moon consigned to orbit you, to be connected to you even when neither of you desired the attachment.

He knew you were going to be upset, livid; his skin was already prickled at the thought of how you would possibly punch him if when you read what he had to give.

At least you always looked pretty when you were angry.

He could still remember how Jean had cowered undeath his desk when you’d stomped into the office after discovering he’d used the branch’s own money to play in a high-stakes poker game while undercover. He’d been fishing for information on the elites, found himself tipsy, and then found himself on the receiving end of your fury. The only thing that stopped your yelling was Erwin, who, for personal reasons, didn’t want any fuss made over government money being gambled away.

Erwin. He’d never cared for how close you were to him.

Reiner finally stood, expecting you to sit and wait, but you were following him like a shadow, small hand wrapped around his forearm as he moved to his computer. When he sat down, that hand moved up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing into his muscle with encouragement. It didn’t really put him at ease.

He turned the desktop on, the monitor flashing to life. He typed in his password quickly, then went searching for that folder he’d kept hidden away so he’d never bother to look at it again.

“Hand me one of those,” he nodded his head in the direction of a small container of flash drives on the other side of his desk. You plucked one out of its resting spot and went ahead and placed it into the port on the computer. He knew you wouldn’t question why had so many on hand—you both knew how it all worked, you both kept important documents that had to be shuffled around digitally.

Familiar names lined the inside of the folder, ones he’d once tried to forget. He heard you suck in a quick breath and took a moment to look up at you. Your brow was set, tongue obviously caught between your teeth to keep yourself from saying anything.

This was his job. He was in charge of keeping tabs on The Scouts, he was the one who fed Marley all the information they could. Well, almost all of it.

“These are files I never gave over. They’re yours now. I never gave Marley everything they wanted I…I thought I was protecting you. There’s also a few files on Zeke that Pieck created in here, too.”

You both watched as he copied the folder over to the flash drive, one by one the names and dates slowly dropping into a new safe place for them.

He touched your waist, signaling you to step back. He rolled his chair out, ducking under the desk for a split moment to gather a box of the printed documents he had actually handed over; the action was a mistake.

You were leaned over him in an instant, hand clutching and moving the mouse so quickly it scraped against the desk. He attempted to reach up and stop you, but he paused—there were still bruises on your wrist, on your fingers, faded watercolors of surviving pain. He’d gripped your hand, your wrists, all day, why hadn’t you stopped him?

He already knew which file you opened; he didn’t need to look. But he did anyways, moving the crate to the side and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. His poor heart felt like it was going to burst.

Marco Bott’s face filled part of the screen, all sweet and freckled like he remembered. Those kind eyes were looking straight at him, judging him. Reiner was just waiting, he knew what was said in there, he wrote it all, still recalled how puffy his eyes were when he did it, how much he regretted it.

There was a pregnant pause, one so heavy he felt like he was being crushed.

This all hinged on you. He needed you to help him, needed you to help you.

“I fucking knew it.”

He was already flinching, shrinking. He watched the screen scroll, the black letters and white spaces all a blur.

“Threat eliminated by gunfire, killed by organized crime members after…” you hesitated, eyes dancing as you reread the words, “after his gear was removed to ensure death.”

He was on his feet before you could hit him, backing away from your clenched fists, chair rolling to be forgotten in the corner.

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Each word came with a step toward him. He was running out of space, nearly tripping over the edge of the couch as you encroached upon him.

“What did you do?” Your voice was getting louder, pain written across your face like he’d just stabbed you. “You told me there was no fucking truth about Marco!”

“There isn’t! Marco’s dead, there’s no changing—”

“There’s no changing the past,” you mocked his words, venom dripping from your tongue.

━━━─── • ───━━━

Your blood was boiling, wrath itching between your fingers.

You were going to kill him. You were going to wind your fists around his neck and watch the life drain slowly from his eyes like he fucking deserved.

You couldn’t believe you’d let you guard down, that you’d started to trust him. You always knew something had gone awry the night Marco died. He’d been slaughtered, ransacked with bullet holes across his body. It was like he had been dropped into the line of fire, dangled out like a piece of meat to be eaten alive.

And he didn’t have his gear, that’s what stumped everyone looking into the mess of it all. It was like he had walked in unprepared, like a boy on a suicide mission walking straight to his death. Thirty-six bullets and even more empty, splattered holes littered had riddled his corpse. Jean had fallen to his knees. Connie didn’t speak for a week. Sasha didn’t eat for days.

Because of Reiner’s decision, that man suffered, you all mourned, and you felt like you most of all had let him down. Marco had been your protégé, you’d taught him everything he knew, and that was the first mission he was allowed to go on after his training. You’d been tailing a rather violent gang, found their hideout, and were infiltrating for arrests and to see what was inside. Marco had been paired with Reiner and Bertholdt to lead the first wave of infiltration, while you and the rest waited for the signal to rush the back doors to the run-down ranch not far out of the city of Trost. They’d been up ahead by the barn that was sandwiched between stables.

But your signal turned to sounds of gunfire. You could still hear it echoing in your ears as you approached Reiner. The sounds of metal clicking, of repeated blasts from automatic weapons ringing across the hillsides like single note windchimes in a raging storm.

“Tell me why.”

Your fingers were digging into his shirt before you could stop yourself, the threads of the worn Henley threatening to rip from your nails sinking into it. You could actually feel his heart beat against his chest, a frightened bird trying to flee his ribcage.

When he didn’t speak right away, your anger flared, made you shove him back against the wall with all your might. It made your arms hurt, like you’d just slammed your hands against brick, a sharp pain that made you hiss.

“He overheard us—”

“Overheard what?”

You could tell he was getting a little infuriated as well, nostrils flaring as he looked down his nose at you. It must look funny, you pressing him against the wall of his own apartment. Reiner was nearly twice your size—he was bigger than most people, and he towered over you like a looming threat.

“Let me fucking finish,” he took a deep breath, eyes nearly glazing over, “He overheard Bertie and I talking about how we should relay the details of that gang, of organized crime in general, to Marley. We—we hadn’t had time to talk alone since we’d been prepping that shit for days. We didn’t know Marco followed us around to that side of the rooftop.”

“That’s it? He heard you whispering little secrets and you killed him for it?”

One of the buttons near the neckline of his shirt popped as your knuckles dug deeper into the fabric.

“He literally heard us say that we needed to find a time to call General Magath of Marley. If he lived and told someone that—,” his breath caught for a moment when one of your nails started to pierce his skin, “it would have compromised our entire mission. We’d been there for three years, and he could’ve ruined it all.”

You were at your breaking point. You could feel that terrible heat that comes with sadness creeping up your neck, snaking around to your cheeks. If you weren’t careful, you were going to cry. All this time, all this time spent wondering why, and this was why he had to die?

Killing wasn’t unusual in your life. It was part of the job, something you’d unfortunately had to do on a few occasions. You knew those strangers who ate your bullets or your knife had families, that they were people too, but most of them were monsters, thieves, rapists, threats to the corrupted balance of the governmental structure. But Marco…he was like family, and finding his limp, almost unrecognizable body had sent even the most hardened veterans into despair. Levi took off from work the next day; the only time he had ever missed a day on the job.

“Tell me how!” You truly didn’t mean to scream it, but the emotions raging in your stomach, your chest, it all ached too much.

“Be quiet, I have neighbors—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your god damn neighbors, Reiner!”

He finally moved then, his once idle hand now jerking up to your face to fiercely hold your cheeks beneath his fingers. You tried to smack his hand away, your own fingers digging and tugging at his wrist.

“Letme-go!” Your words were jumbled, your open mouth allowing his fingers to press your cheeks in between your teeth.

“You have to be fucking quiet,” he hissed, a whole new light shining in his eyes, a familiar rage you had seen when you’d fought against him the day Paradis was invaded. The reality of how large he was sunk in again; he looked like a vengeful god peering down at you, all hot-blooded and incensed.

You thought for a moment he wouldn’t hurt you, but then you remembered he already had. He had the inclination to be just as cruel as you could be.

His fingers stayed firm against your cheeks, holding you like he was daring you to speak again.

“Tellmehow,” you managed to spit out, wincing when he took the leverage he had on your face and used it to shove you back. You stumbled, banging into the side of the couch as you rubbed at the sore flesh of your mouth.

But he was unmoving, back straight against the wall, a statue built on the foundation of wrath and agony, waiting to crack and fall onto you if you made the wrong move.

“We knew their guards were patrolling. Bertholdt covered his mouth while I stripped him of his equipment, of his guns, and I pushed him off the roof and into their sight.”

He said it so calmly that it made you sick. But that was a reality he had to live with every day, wasn’t it? He had to replay in his mind over and over again that he had done such a vile thing, he had to justify it else it would eat him alive.

Your tears were hot, but contained, your lashes blinking them aside as you just stared at him. You opened your mouth to scream at him, you were so ready to spew hatred and let it burn him, but he was quicker than you.

With one step, he was on you, your hair wrapped in his fast as he wrenched your head to the side, smarting your scalp to silence you.

“Marco’s dead, and I’m sorry for it. You fucking screaming will do nothing but have the assholes who live below me calling the authorities and you’ll find yourself in a much worse prison than before.”

You didn’t like how he was right. Still, you glared up at him, brows pinched together in pain.

It felt like you’d merged into him, those rapid hearts within your chests suddenly beating as one with the same suffering, the same torment. You both had to live with the poor reality of your lives; you were killers, you were monsters too.

You were too close to him, could smell the heat of his skin, could feel his breath against your sore cheeks. Your hands were flat against his chest, trapped between you, his arm an anchor as it tugged at the roots of your hair, keeping your face turned towards his.

You couldn’t help but look at him, there was nowhere else to focus, only on him. It was like you could see the pages of a book open across his face, wretchedness and anguish painted in broad strokes in the fair wrinkles around his eyes, in the curve of his brow. It was beauty and pain bleeding together, the amber color of his eyes swirling as he searched your own face like he was looking for something. What would he find hidden behind your own grief?

“I hate you,” you whispered, breath long gone.

“I know.”

“And I’ll never forgive you.”

It was like he was moving closer, the time you were losing now completely stopped, frozen between your bodies.

“Don’t want forgiveness,” he caught your whisper and gave it back, “just judgement.”

His lips met yours with a bruising fervor.

The hand in your hair flexed, pulled you closer, made you gasp as your hands slid up his chest. Your fingers found his rumbling throat, and in the back of your mind, you recalled how just moments ago you were waiting to snatch the life from his neck. You felt his pulse beating beneath your thumb, a war drum beating hot and fast in his veins. Your mouth was moving against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, you didn’t know. All you did know was that this felt so wrong, like you’d taken a misstep and landed right into the lion’s lap, but that it also felt like absolution, like he was devouring your sins and taking them for his own.

Your mouth slanted for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as you fell into this new, strange rhythm. You’d thought about it before, kissing him like this, feeling those plush lips against yours, angry and hot and needy. You cherished the taste of him, like a dark, rich wine filling up your mouth, spilling over and enveloping your senses. Your tongue tempted him to open his lips, to let you in. There was no hesitation.

His other hand found your hip, fingers mean and pulling you impossibly closer. Your palms drifted up from his neck, found his face, thumbs smoothing over cheekbones. You could feel the soft hairs of his cheeks, his chin, sweeping against your skin. It all felt too good, like you were getting lost, delirium taking over. Nothing else mattered anymore, just the gratification of tasting his emotions, of taking his groans into your mouth and echoing them back. You pressed harder into him, kept your tongue tangled with his, noses brushing as you found new beats to your rhythm.

It was wicked, sinful, something your heart was pleading for and your mind screaming out against. But you couldn’t stop. You didn’t stop. It was as if you kissed for as long as you’d known each other. Every year passed by, every regret, every sharp turn of your tongues against one another, all the hurt and longing, placed into one moment of your bodies finding one another.

When the heat began to die, you were both still stroking the flames, deep, languid kisses turned into smaller presses of your lips against one another. It was intoxicating and you felt so drunk, so, so drunk off of him.

There was a stillness between you, like the gentle sigh and breaths of the world as it awoke to the morning sun when you finally stopped. A lulling peacefulness lingered in the wake of what you’d done.

His hands were still on your body, in your hair, looser now. Yours were still on his face when your eyes fluttered open.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, lips plump, wet.

“I know.”

Next Chapter

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #snk reiner #snk reiner braun #AoT #aot reiner #aot reiner braun #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner x you #reiner braun x you

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mlm-writer · 4 years

Text

Fuck the Pain Away (Jaskier x M!Reader)

Pairing: Julian Alfred Pankratz (Jaskier/Dandelion) x Top Male Reader (NOT trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1833 POV: Second Summary: After Geralt is a dick on that mountain, Jaskier just needs something to feel better. Luckily for him, you are there to fuck the pain away. Notes: I just needed to give him some justice (and dick) after that episode. Tags: Some angst, alcohol, blowjob, facefucking, deepthroating, anal sex, loud sex, rough sex, dirty talk, anal creampie and Jaskier has a praise kink

EDIT: Sequel is here

A tavern without a bard was often boring to you, but it was nothing compared to a tavern with a bard that would only sing sad ballads and bitter songs. The mood was terrible, but no one seemed to do anything about the half-weeping twink in the middle of the tavern. They all must have been regulars as they seemed to know him, judging by the pitiful stares. You had been here for the better of an hour and still not a single good song. A sigh left you, before you stood up and walked over to the twink in sparkly clothes.

“Oh bard, you must be so tired,” you announced as you put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a kind smile, slowly prying his lute from him. He looked at you, eyes scanning over you. You did not comment on it. “I think you should take a rest and rehydrate.” With a lute in one hand, you dragged the bard to the bar, sitting him down and taking a seat next to him. “Barkeep, mead for me and the sad bard, please.”

You gave him a smile as you put the lute down next to you. He did not seem pleased, but not a word came from him. You drank in silence. It took him a lot of drinks to get a little tipsy. You noticed, because he was suddenly very affectionate. “The world needs more good men like you,” he whined as he rested his head on your shoulder. You chuckled and threw an arm around him. You held him close as he drank the last of his mead. “Bar…”

“Actually, I think you have had enough.” You took the cup from his hand and placed it on the bar. “You have a room here, right?” The bard nodded. “Ok, I’ll help you up.” You supported him as you made your way to the stairs and up to his room. As you walked, you realised he was not hammered at all and yet he kept you in a tight grip. The unnamed bard did not let you go as you tried to drop him on the bed. He pulled you along until you were both lying there in a tangled mess. You chuckled as he nuzzled the exposed skin of your neck. “Before you attempt to jump on my dick, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Jaskier.” “Do you want to know mine?” “Not really.” “Ok.”

Jaskier suddenly got a lot more energetic as he climbed on top of you. “Now can I jump on your dick or not?” You shrugged and nodded. Who were you to not fuck away the pain of a gorgeous man like him? You had thought you would be taking the lead on this, but Jaskier had your breeches down to your knees in no time and was hungrily sucking on your cock like it would spill immortality juice. You moaned and put your hand into his hair, fingers clenching everytime your cock went past his mouth and into his throat. Jaskier took your cock out of his mouth and mouthed at your balls. “Could you maybe… you know?” You pulled his head up by his hair, raising a brow, prompting him to be more specific. He stuttered a little before taking a deep breath, apparently settling on just being blunt and forthcoming about his desires. “I want you,” he pointed at you to emphasise his point, “ to use my mouth”, pointing at his mouth, “like a hole to fuck and make me gag.”

You laughed, turning him red like a good apple. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just no one has ever said it like that to me, ever.” He reached for your hand and tried to pull it away, but you tightened your grip and pushed him down to your hard length. “But don’t worry little bard, I will give you exactly what you want. How could I say no to such a pretty boy like you?” He moaned as you forced him down on your cock. You put a second hand on his head, guiding his mouth over your length, sometimes holding him down. After a few times making him gag as you held him down, you pulled him up and off your cock. He gasped, spit dripping off his lips. You wiped a little away with your thumb as you smiled at him. “Now I’m gonna push my cock all the way inside this whorish mouth and I want you to stick your tongue out and lick my balls. Think you can do that?” The pretty bard nodded, whimpering. One glance down showed he was hard as a rock. His cock was threatening to rip open his pretty clothing. You decided to let him suffer a little longer. Jaskier had his mouth open and was dripping spit onto your glistening length. You guided him down, shushing him and patting his head as you slowly pushed into his throat. He gagged and you held him still until you could push further. “That’s it, now stick your tongue out.” He did as he was told and tough it wasn’t the most gracious licking of your balls, the thought that your entire cock was jammed in his mouth and throat made it hot anyway.

When you noticed him struggling more, you let him go and he raised his head on his own, coughing and heaving as his mouth was finally free. “Grab the bottle from my bag, will you?” You looked to your left and saw a bag on the floor next to you. You noticed a glass bottle inside and held it up. Jaskier nodded and held his hand out for it. He pulled his breeches down and kicked them off. You were about to offer to open him up, but he grabbed your hands and put it on his head. “Please continue, while I prepare myself.” It took you a little off guard and you asked him if he was sure, offering to prepare him instead. Jaskier’s response was to take your cock back into his mouth on his own, moaning around it as he stuck a finger inside himself. The delicious feeling of the vibrations was enough to convince you.

You could feel Jaskier’s every move, his moans in perfect sync with his fingers’ movements. You were leaking precum and Jaskier was sucking it out of you and swallowing it down. Every time you got close to the edge, Jaskier pulled off and looked at you with puffy lips and open mouth as he fingered himself open with your cock resting on his face. He really was going to make you cum so hard that you might pass out, you just knew it. The intention was everywhere on his face and in his eyes.

When Jaskier finally considered himself stretched enough, he straddled you, your wet cock at his loosened opening. “Ready for the ride of your life?” He chuckled. You laughed at the way he was being overly dramatic and placed your hands on his hips. You hadn’t expected the previously moping bard to be this eager and active, but he appeared to be full of surprises. He lowered himself on your cock, letting out a luscious moan for you to enjoy along with the delectable sight of his mouth hanging just a little open while his eyes were closed.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” you cursed as he rode the head of your cock, not taking in more quite yet. You helped him move, thrusting just a little so he wasn’t doing all of the work. Jaskier was clearly sensitive as he sang in ways that would not be socially acceptable down in the tavern. He fell forward, head resting on your chest as you put your hands on his ass and lifted it up far enough for you to thrust up into him. Jaskier was no longer moving, just moaning into your chest as he took your cock with ease.

“Please, fuck me against a wall,” the bard suddenly moaned and the idea sent your whole mind reeling. You lifted him off you and helped him get up. Jaskier was unstable on his feet as you led him to the nearest clear wall and pushed him face first against it. You kissed the back of his neck, giving the flesh a playful bite. The pretty bard keened and stuck his perfect ass out.

You slipped back inside, groaning as that perfect heat enveloped your cock once more. A growl escaped you, before you whispered into his ear. "Let's make the entire building shake, shall we?" The whiny moan that followed was enough confirmation and you fucked him in earnest, thrusting deep and making your skin slap together so hard that they could hear the sound through the entire floor. "You're such a treasure," you groaned as you pressed your body against his while you fucked him like a dog, "pretty voice, pretty face and," you squeezed his bottom, "the prettiest most fuckable arse in the continent." Jaskier moaned so loudly, you swore he had a praise kink. You pulled him away from the wall and against your own body. Your hands slid down and you lifted him up by his knees. Jaskier folded almost in half as you lifted him up and down on your cock.

"Oh fuck you're such a fucking stud, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jaskier sang the praises of your cock. He was a nuisance to anyone in the building for sure, but you didn't care. Right now the only thing you could care about was the way his tight hole gripped your cock as you bounced him up and down. When your arms got tired, you walked over to the bed and dropped him. Jaskier positioned himself on all fours, taking your cock with so much ease and eagerness, you wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"I want to fill you up with my seed," you groaned as you grabbed Jaskier by his hips to fuck him harder towards his orgasm.

"Yes, please, tell me your name. I want to sing it to the whole town while you fill up my butthole." You told him your name, grabbed a little tighter, fucked a little harder. Jaskier sang your name as your nails dug into his skin and you pressed deep in him, unloading there. You grabbed his cock as you came, stroking and making him cum too. The bard's whole body trembled through orgasm until you milked him dry. You collapsed next to each other. Almost immediately, Jaskier came crawling into your arms, snuggling into your chest and holding you like you were about to leave the second you got to cum.

"I can stay the night," you offered without looking at him. Jaskier hummed approvingly. You were no witcher with white hair and yellow eyes, but right now, you were exactly was Jaskier needed.

“You can also stay forever.”

#the witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #x male reader #male reader #top reader #jaskier x reader #jaskier x male reader #x reader #reader insert #lemon

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lastwagontrainhopper · 3 years

Text

A guiding hand

Royai week day 2 - Serene (let’s collectively ignore how late I am posting this ok thaaaanks)

Summary: “She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke again, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ” ”

---

The Colonel and his Lieutenant share a late-night conversation. (Blind!Roy)

Words: 2489

Tags: Blind Roy Mustang, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant

read on aot

“They had left their windows wide open, letting in a soft breeze to relieve them from the heavy summer heat. The curtains were rising and falling without a sound, fluttering in the air like ghosts. Even the streets around the house were quiet at that hour; the only thing that broke the stillness of the night was Riza's voice.

"As for Senator Harn's wife, she was wearing a very elegant apricot-colored dress. With her signature high hairdo, of course.”

Their blankets had long been kicked away to the bottom of the bed in a messy pile. Roy was lying on his back, facing to the ceiling, one hand playing idly with a lock of Riza's hair.

"Apricot?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "That's the yellow with a touch of pink, right?”

"That was pretty much it, yes." Riza was lying on her side, her head against her hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. The room was covered in shadows, but the flickering lights from the window on the street allowed her to see the outline of Roy's face.

"And you said Harn had a royal blue jacket...That must have made for an odd contrast.”

Riza smirked. "Yes, that's what several people seemed to think. It looked as if the General and his wife had not consulted with one another before coming to the gala.”

A sly smile spread across Roy’s face. "Ha! And you just know the rumors about their marriage are already flying high. It's sort of ironic, considering how Harn is constantly babbling to the Parliament about the “traditional family” and the “sanctity of marriage” and whatnot." His hand came to lightly circle Riza's wrist, his thumb tapping the back of her hand. "I’m sure you now understand how crucial fashion is in Central. It's not just a matter of taste: it's inherently political.”

"Sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Anyway. The Harns didn't capture the guests' attention that long, since the buffet was brought shortly after.”

Roy hummed appreciated. "And that was a good one. I've rarely tasted crab this delicious.”

"Yes, and they must have put as much effort into the presentation as in the cooking, because the set-up was magnificent. Everything was served on glittering silver plates, which reflected the glow of the chandeliers. On each table, the dishes were arranged in a sort of pyramid, culminating with the piece of meat or seafood. It looked extremely fragile, like...like some sort of house of cards, or crystal architecture, defying gravity - but they all stood the evening without crashing down. It was breathtaking.”

This had become the most constant part of their day. Almost every night, as they lay in bed before going to sleep, Riza would describe to Roy a long list of the things he hadn’t been able to see during the day. When they had first started this habit, as they were working on the the reconstruction of Ishval, Riza's descriptions had been much more pragmatic, like a mission report: which building seemed in need of repair? Which tribal leader looked unsatisfied during their morning meeting? She did her best to give him this information as the day went by, but there were always important details that she missed.

As the years had passed and the two had distanced themselves from the military, Riza's description had slowly become more lyrical. She began to tell him about beautiful sights that he was missing – a particularly colorful sunset, or the way the city lights looked at night. As time went by, she started to enjoy these conversations and more more, and they became increasingly long. It got to the point where, as Riza saw something pretty during the day, she found herself immediately thinking of the way she would describe it to Roy later at night.

"You should try to write a book," he had told her once. "You're so good at this - I can picture in my mind everything that you're telling me about like I was seeing it."

"It wouldn't be the same," she had answered, shaking her head. "I like hearing your reactions."

He had arched his eyebrows, smirking. "And yet you scold me every time I interrupt you.”

"Stop being overdramatic,” she had retorted. “Now let me continue." They had left it at that.

Sometimes Riza would rest her head on his chest as she went on with her stories. This was what Roy preferred. Ever since losing his eyesight, he had grown much fonder of physical contact, even casual, with her - after all, it was the surest way he could know that she was by his side. But Riza liked to remain slightly further, just next to him, so that she would be able to observe him during their late-night conversation. His face would take on such a special expression at those times, almost peaceful, or...serene.

Serene. That would have been the last word anyone would have chosen to describe Roy under normal circumstances. Despite his reputation as a slacker, he was a man that was constantly busy thinking about one thing or another, pondering, planning his next ploy – or his next date with a certain Lieutenant. His eyes in particular had always betrayed the constant working of his mind: they were restless, always darting around the room to study the people they were talking to, noticing details in their postures, noting suspicious movements out of the corner of his eye.

And, Riza knew it well, even the moments of rest didn’t bring Roy much serenity. More often than not, his sleep was plagued by violent nightmares that would wake him screaming in the middle of the night - or at least, that tensed and distorted his expression as he slept.

This had not changed since the Promised Day. But since Roy’s fight in the underground of Central, his blind eyes had lost their piercing look and had taken on a milky appearance. In the first few weeks, Riza had hated meeting that blank stare - it reminded her too much of what his eyes used to look like, as well as symbolizing her failure as a bodyguard.

But eventually, she had come to see a certain beauty in them, and in the calmness they brought to Roy's expression. He was still as expressive as ever, with his trademark crooked smile and taunting eyebrows. But in the evening, when they were alone together, his face truly relaxed. As Riza described the day's events to him, he would focus entirely on her voice, letting his mind recreate the image she was painting. His eyebrows would loosen and his forehead became smooth, free of its usual furrow; his mouth would fall half-open. At this particular moment, Roy took on a serene expression that Riza had never seen on him before, and she never got tired of looking at it.

"I need to tell you, unfortunately," Riza broke the silence that had settled, "that you were not the best-dressed man at the reception.”

Roy propped himself up on his elbows, frowning with surprise. So much for serenity.

"What? Who was?”

“You’re not going to be happy about this,” Riza said, trying to hide the small smile in her voice. "But Colonel Birks made quite an impression. He wore a rather daring suit, made of a black fabric from which red velvet patterns stood out.”

Roy huffed with indignation. "Velvet! Nonsense. He obviously can’t stop pushing the boundaries of extravagance – and of bad taste.”

"I don't know," Riza said evasively. “I thought it was pretty elegant…and I wasn't the only one.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "Outdressing the president should be considered insubordination," he muttered under his breath. "I'll call Ms. Zhao tomorrow. I need something more avant-garde for the next gala. Maybe with some silk mixed in with a cotton suit?”

He lay down again on the bed and raised his arm, inviting her to come closer. Riza moved to nestle up against him, putting her head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest. Roy wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her hair. Whenever he did that, his breaths would tickle Riza's neck, making her giggle; she would always pretend to be annoyed but it, but they both knew better.

After a moment, Roy tucked some of her hair away from her face. He brought his lips close to her ear. "Tell me again what you were wearing."

Riza felt a shiver go down her spine. That deep voice that Roy used when he whispered always got a reaction out of her, no matter what cliché or silly thing he would say.

A wry smile crossed her lips. "At this point, you know my wardrobe better than I do, Roy. ”

"I know," he answered, unabashed. "But I like hearing you describe it."

Riza chuckled. “Well,” she began, “I was wearing the flowy emerald green skirt that Rebecca got me for Christmas, a brown leather belt, and my white blouse. The one with the embroidery on the collar. ”

He hummed in appreciation. "With your golden high heels, I'm guessing."

"With my golden high heels," she nodded, "because even though my feet are killing by the end of the night when I wear them, they do really go well with that skirt." Her hand started to play with the ring that Roy wore as a necklace. "I didn't put much makeup on because of how humid the weather was. But I did wear my bright red lipstick."

She felt his cheeky smile even before he spoke. "I can recognize it by taste, now."

If they weren’t pressed so close together, she would have dug her elbow into his ribs. She rolled her eyes instead. "I also had my gold bracelet to go with the shoes, and the earrings you bought me to complete it all. What else...my hair was in a bun, and, of course, I had my necklace."

She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or a joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ”

Riza felt her smile drop. A lump appeared in her throat. Roy rarely complained about his blindness; even in the months following the Promised Day, he had adapted to his new lifestyle with impressive resilience. At first, it seemed as if his disability had affected his Lieutenant, plagued by guilt, more than himself. Still, Riza knew that he must have carried a lot of silent regrets through the years. There was so much Roy had had to give up, so many compromises he had had to reluctantly accept on his plan to reform Amestris – and on his personal life.

Riza disentangled herself gently from his grasp and straighten up, half sitting, to observe him. One of his arms was folded under his head, and he still seemed to be looking at the ceiling - but of course, that was just an impression. She ran a hand through his hair, brushing them away from his face. He smiled slightly at her touch, but she didn't need to see the pupils of his eyes to know that his heart wasn't in it.

She didn't like seeing him like this. With thoses cloudy eyes, melancholy turned his serene expression into a confused one - like he was a child that got lost and couldn't look for his way home.

Riza laid down again and rested her head on the pillow, her face turned toward Roy. She started to gently stroke his arm. "At least, you can keep in your mind the image of what I – and you – looked like in the prime of our youth," she said after a moment in a playful tone, trying to comfort him. "You won't need to see us get all old and wrinkled.”

To her surprise, Roy's face saddened further.

"Don't say that. Beautiful women are like fine wine, they only get better with age - that's what Chris used to say. I always wanted to see how you would look as you grew old.”

Riza raised her eyebrow, surprised. "Really?" she answered in spite of herself.

He nodded. "Not everyone ages gracefully, of course. But I know that wrinkles would look flattering on you; you have such elegant features. And silvery hair never fails to give this distinguished look - at least on women," he added, running a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. His eyebrows furrowed. "Do I already have grey hair?"

Riza felt her shoulders relax. "You're almost completely bald by now, Roy."

He winced. "Please don't joke with that. I don't know what I would do if this were to happen.

Riza simply smiled, and they fell back into a comfortable silence. She watched Roy’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, lulled by the calm rhythm.

"You know, I always wished I could see you grow old, also because it would have meant that we made it."

Riza felt her breath catch in her throat.

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, hoping her touch could tell him what her words couldn’t.

“We did make it, Roy.” Now of all time, she wished he could see her face.

"I know," he said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. "I know."

Riza propped herself up on her elbow. She close her fingers around his, and squeezed firmly.

"Listen. We'll just do like with everything else. When my hair turns grey, I'll describe it to you. And as for the wrinkles," she placed his hand on her face, "you can see that for yourself."

Roy made a small smile. For the first time, he turned to face her, placing the tip of his fingers on both sides of her face. That was something he never tired of doing. Before he had lost his sight, he had always been able to read her like a book, understanding the meaning behind even the most subtle of her facial expressions. Now, he could do it in a much more literal sense, by tracing the surface of her body, reading the lines on her skin as if they were words written in braille.

"And when my face is so wrinkled it's unrecognizable,” she continued, "you will know the story behind each one of them.” She injected a smile into her voice. “The ones I already have on my forehead, for example, come from the stress of having spent so many years asking you to do your paperwork.”

His fingers brushed her forehead, and he smiled, abashed. "And you're all the more beautiful for it, my dear." He reached toward her and, guided by his hands, placed a light kiss on her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest.” ”

#royaiweek21 #royai #blind roy #fma #fanfic

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dork-empress · 3 years

Text

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3

Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.

Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.

Flock of Robins

Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???

Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.

Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that

Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.

Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.

Dickbutt:.....

Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME

Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest

Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?

Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?

Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!

Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE

Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND

Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho

DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!

DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up

DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all

Jason: That was last week at dinner.

Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?

Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.

Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF

DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.

Jason: He put you on the Titans.

DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd

DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man

Jason: With proper punctuation?

Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??

Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going

Jason: QUINN?!?!?!

Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????

DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago

Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are

Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?

Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY

Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway

DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he

Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.

Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins

Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?

Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages

Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!

Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you

Jason: …….

Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I

Jason: @DamianWayne

Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Damian: You’re dead Drake

DatAssTho: RIP

Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered

Jason: Prick.

“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.

Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.

“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.

“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”

Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”

“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”

“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.

He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.

Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.

Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.

And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.

Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.

Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…

Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.

They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”

Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”

“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”

Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”

“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”

“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”

Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”

Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.

Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.

Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.

But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.

Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.

“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”

Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”

Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”

Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”

Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”

Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”

With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.

Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”

“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”

“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.

“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”

Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”

“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”

That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.

“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”

Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”

Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”

Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”

Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.

Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”

Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”

Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.

Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.

Lucy went back to watching people below her.

“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”

Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”

Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.

Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”

There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”

Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.

Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”

Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”

“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.

Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.

Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.

“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”

Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”

“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”

Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”

“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.

“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”

“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.

“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”

“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.

Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”

Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”

“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”

Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.

#lucy quinzel #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jon kent #DC comics fanfic #dc comics fanfiction

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peggyrose19 · 4 years

Text

Gone

hehe I am back with another heart-wrenching story for you all. Who’s ready to cry?? *innocent smile* Wolfstar this time :) Not all of this follows canon, mainly because I was too lazy to get my book and look through it for continuity’s sake. You guys will live, right? It still makes sense. This is for the @hpbrokenhearts festival so, if I broke your heart or made you feel things (ew) leave a broken heart emoji in the comments!! Thank you all for reading! <3 tagging @donttouchmycarrots since she asked and @im-oknutzy-trash cause I want to torture her :)

All Remus can hear is silence.

Somewhere in him, he knows that Harry is screaming in his arms, knows that the battle is still happening around him.

But none of it is registering.

It takes everything in him to not sprint forward. To not throw himself through the veil. The only thing holding him back is Harry, struggling against him, reaching out for his godfather.

His godfather who is now gone.

The love of Remus’ life.

Gone.

He remembers the very first morning they woke up together.

He’s not sure why it’s the first memory that surfaces.

It’s their sixth year at Hogwarts. Remus crawls into his bed that night, broken and exhausted. He appears without a word, climbing in beside him and curling his body around him. Remus stares into steady silver eyes and immediately feels better. Without a word, he presses a kiss to Remus’ lips, and leans into him, pushing him gently against the mattress. Remus sinks into it, body heating up with each touch. Without saying a word, he gives Remus what he needs and Remus has never felt more loved.

They wake in the morning curled around each other, blankets tangled at their feet and Remus never wants to move. This is home, he thinks dimly, watching his sleeping face, feeling his warm breath on his neck, the arm wrapped around his waist. He remembers the feel of fingers trailing across his skin, a soft mouth on his, the pleasure pulled from his body.

“You’re smiling.”

Remus grins widely. “I’m happy.”

“I’m glad.”

With a laugh, he leans forward and kisses him lightly.

“What about James and Peter?” he murmurs against his lips.

Remus pulls away a bit and pulls the curtains closed, reaching for his wand and spelling them shut.

“And class?”

“It’s Saturday. Relax, baby. We have all morning.”

His boyfriend’s smile turns mischievous. “Hmm, then I can think of a few things we can do.” Remus just laughs and lets himself be pushed back against the mattress once more.

When Harry faces Voldemort, Remus nearly can’t stand it. His heart is broken, shattered into pieces on the ground, left behind the veil in that underground room. Left with the man he gave his heart that night in the bed they used to share, then gave to him again in the dark dusty house of his family. He knows he’s not getting it back again.

The flashes of light remind him of battle. Of the battle he fought for the same fucking reason over a decade before. The battle that took his friends.

He cannot lose anyone else that day.

Remus arrives back at 12 Grimmauld Place hours later. Maybe even days. He’s no longer aware of time passing.

The house is eerily quiet, all sounds of life gone from the dim hallways. There are no more voices or footsteps, no one cooking in the kitchen or cleaning out one of the many empty rooms. He can’t even hear Kreacher anywhere.

The stairs creak familiarly under Remus’ feet as he slowly makes his way to his bedroom. It’s dark. He doesn’t bother with the lights, using only the faint moonlight to make his way across the room. Remus sinks onto his bed, head in his hands. There are so many memories from this room, from this bed. Late nights and early mornings, pacing the floors just waiting to hear, making love in the dead of night, screaming and fighting against the world, for the world. He wishes he was here, to gather him up in his arms and hold him tight and tell him everything will be okay.

But he’s not here. And Remus doesn’t know what to do.

He isn’t sure when he last slept.

He isn’t sure he’ll ever sleep again.

“Remus,” the soft whisper says.

“Hmm.”

“Wake up, love.”

“Hm, what is it?”

When Remus rolls over, Sirius Black’s grinning face meets him, mere inches away. His hair is messy, cheek imprinted from the pillow. He’s never looked more perfect.

With a quick kiss, Sirius says, “It’s Christmas.”

Remus grins at the childish joy in his voice. “It is.” Sirius kisses him again, soft and sweet, pulling him close and tangling a hand in his curls.

“We should get up,” Remus mumbles eventually.

Sirius groans, but rolls away from him to stand, flinching as his bare feet hit the cold floor. He stretches leisurely, back cracking as he reaches for the ceiling, shirt riding up a bit. Unable to stop himself, Remus reaches out and runs a finger along the exposed skin of his stomach. Sirius shivers.

“Don’t be mean,” Sirius murmurs. Remus just smirks. But he pulls his hand away, sitting up and pulling the blankets around himself.

“Wait.” Remus grabs Sirius’ hand before he can walk away and tugs him down into another kiss. He smiles into it, carding a finger through Sirius’ long hair. This might just be paradise.

But then a crash comes from downstairs and the shouting begins and they both remember where they are.

“Some other time, then,” Sirius says and pulls away. Remus smiles at him sweetly.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Sirius’ gaze flashes to him for a split second before it’s gone as he turns back towards his dresser.

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls a drawer open, fishing for a sweater. He finds one and pulls it on. It’s Remus’. “We should go start breakfast.” Remus nods, although Sirius doesn't see it, and clambers out of bed.

“I’ll see you down there,” he says as Sirius heads for the door. He kisses him one last time.

“Happy Christmas, Remus,” he whispers.

“Happy Christmas, Sirius.”

Remus wakes with a start.

It takes a moment for him to gain his bearings as he looks blearily around the room, lit dimly by the moonlight shining in from the small window.

His face swims through his mind, long hair and bright eyes smirking at him. He forces it down, the image too painful for his exhausted brain.

The dream is still clear in his mind, the memory even more so. That had been one of the happiest mornings of his life. Waking up with his boyfriend, warm and happy and safe by his side for the first time in 12 years. He hadn’t thought he’d ever get that again.

But now he’s lost it all over again.

The events of the past 24 hours come crashing down all at once.

He remembers Harry’s screams, his tears. Remembers watching long black hair disappear behind the veil, silver eyes never to be seen again. He remembers the crack in his heart, just starting to mend, bursting wide open all over again.

Harry is going to be okay, that was the most important thing he told himself. Harry and all of his friends, they are going to be okay. They are all going to be okay…

Between one breath and the next, Remus is sobbing and he can’t stop himself.

He told himself he would be strong. For Harry, for the Order. Except he can’t do it anymore. Alone in this empty house, filled with so many painful, wonderful memories, he can’t hold it together anymore. So he lets himself break apart. With nothing but the ringing in his ears and his memories as company, Remus lets himself hurt.

Eleven years old, standing before him on the train, silver eyes piercing his soul. Dark hair cut short, curling around his face.

A hand outstretched. He takes it.

“I’m Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“Gryffindor!” the hat calls and the boy’s face falls.

Years pass.

Friends and fights and pranks and laughter.

Full moons with Padfoot by his side.

Love. Joy. The pure bliss of being known.

Graduation comes. Fear looms over them.

War. Pain. Secrets he can’t share.

“Don’t you trust me anymore?”

James, Lily, Peter, all of them gone. Sirius. Gone.

Betrayal. He falls to his knees.

The full moon comes and he’s alone.

Years pass in a blur.

A headline in a newspaper that sends chills up his spine.

Moonlight, cold wind on his skin. The man before him on his knees, begging for the world.

“I love you.”

The two of them curled in bed, a low voice whispering in his ear, “Happy Christmas, Remus.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

A flash of light.

Silence.

Remus slowly walks towards the room at the end of the hall. He’s not even sure he can go in. But he has to try, he tells himself. He has to try.

The door swings open silently. Remus steps into the room, footsteps kicking up the thin layer of dust on the floor. It hasn’t been disturbed in nearly a month. Everything is exactly as he left it, nothing out of place. It’s as familiar to Remus as the scars on his skin. He stands for a moment, scanning the room, remembering. Everything is a reminder of him.

Slowly, so slowly, Remus begins sorting. He finds clothing thrown haphazardly into the dresser and he sighs. He never did learn, did he. There are socks on the floor, a few t-shirts along with them. Remus begins folding, placing each item carefully back into the dresser. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of it all.

He finds his favorite jumper, one far too big on him, and presses it to his face. It still smells like him, of dog hair and smoke. Remus sinks to the ground, holding it close to him, as if it will bring him back. He knows it won’t, but he wishes for it anyway. With a deep breath, he pulls it over his head and continues folding.

In one drawer he finds not clothing but objects. Small trinkets and mementos from their years at Hogwarts. There’s a Gryffindor flag, now faded and dull. He finds the mirror, twin to the one James had, given to Harry a year prior. He stares at himself in the reflection. Nothing happens. With a sigh, he sets it to the side. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was a let down nonetheless.

The next thing he pulls out is a telescope. He runs his fingers along the smooth surface, the cool metal bringing back memories of the night sky and a warm body beside him. The telescope was his, originally. Somehow it had ended up here. As he stares at it, he remembers the night he learned what love felt like.

It’s dark when the boy finds him on the balcony of the tower. Remus escaped there after classes for a bit of fresh air. And some space, from the man now sitting beside him. The air is unusually warm for the March evening. He doesn’t say anything, just sits beside Remus, and watches the sun set.

His heart constricts painfully as their shoulders brush. Remus wants to reach over, to touch him. But he doesn’t dare. So he stays silent, staring at the sky.

“You okay, Moony?” he asks quietly as the last strands of sunlight sink behind the mountains.

“Yeah.” Remus doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes front. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You want me to go?”

He smiles a bit, fighting the longing in his chest. He doesn’t have the heart to turn him away. “No, you’re okay. You don’t count.”

Remus feels him looking at him.

“What?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.”

Remus glances at him, “About what, that you don’t count?” He nods. “I meant it as a compliment.”

They fall silent again.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Remus flushes, glancing over at him as his heart speeds up. Does he dare to hope?

Grey eyes have turned to silver in the moonlight, hair blowing in the soft breeze. He leans into him. There’s a look in his eyes that Remus can’t read.

“Pads,” he begins. He reaches out hesitantly, resting a hand against his cheek. He sinks into the touch, and Remus feels his courage grow.

“What, Re?”

“Can I kiss you?” The words come out in a single breath, barely audible over the light wind. But the boy nods as if he’s heard.

Their lips touch quickly, messily. Remus’ heart stops. It’s not perfect, not at all, but it feels like the world has frozen. They break apart. Remus presses their foreheads together, feeling their breaths mingling. He looks up at him, eyes soft and full of longing. He reads the silent question in Remus’ face.

With a breath, he leans in again, pressing their lips together, hands snaking around Remus’ neck and pulling him closer. This kiss is easier, less messy. They fit, their bodies molding together as Remus wraps his other arm around his waist. He sinks into his arms and Remus wonders why he didn’t do this sooner.

“Sirius,” he whispers against his lips. “I really like you.”

He smiles. “I really like you too.”

They pull apart, after a moment, arms still wrapped around each other.

“Wanna look at the stars with me?” Remus asks.

He nods eagerly and pulls away, and Remus grabs the telescope sitting beside him, lifting it to his eye. The boy points out the Canis constellation, grinning proudly.

“Look, Re, it’s me!” He’s grinning, arm wrapped around his shoulder, pointing up at the Sirius star, shining brightly down on them. Remus smiles at him, handing him the telescope and watches as he looks up at the sky. He never wants to leave this moment.

Remus shakes his head at himself, dragging himself out of the memory. His heart constricts painfully as he remembers the feel of soft lips against his, arms curled around him, fingers in his hair. A feeling he’ll never get back again.

He digs further in the drawer and finds a stack of letters. They give him pause. He surveys them, trying to figure out why they seem so familiar. It’s then he notices his own handwriting glaring up at him.

Breath catching in his throat, Remus pulls out a letter he wrote, over 12 years ago. Tears form as he reads the words from his 15 year-old self, lonely and scared, faced with a full moon alone and the knowledge that his boyfriend is trapped in this house with his abusive mother and neglectful father. He can feel the longing through the paper, the need to be there, to kiss him and make everything better. It’s a feeling that never left.

Heart constricting painfully, he sorts through each letter, reading the words he’d put there all those years ago. They’ve been lovingly preserved, evident from the careful creases in the paper and the neat organization. Every letter he’d ever written is now in his hands again. But the man he’d written them to is not.

Remus begs himself not to cry, not to break down again.

He lasts only a minute.

Later that night, Remus climbs out onto the roof where they would always sit together, staring at the sky. He looks up at the stars that had always brought him comfort. His eyes find the Canis constellation almost immediately, drawn like always to the brightest star in the sky. The air is cool around him, the sky a deep deep blue.

He sits there for a long time.

Memory after memory flashes through his mind. The pain in his chest only grows with each passing second until he nearly can’t bear it anymore. Even being betrayed was better than losing him completely. Tears spill onto his cheeks until he’s crying, whole body shaking with sobs. He doesn’t want to feel it anymore. He wants the pain to go away. He wants him back.

It’s nearly dawn when Remus moves again. The sky has lightened and his tears have dried on his cheeks. As he stares up at the disappearing constellations, heart in his throat, he whispers to the stars,

“Sirius, I don’t know how to say goodbye to you.”

#angst tw #@character death tw #angsty angst #wolfstar #all pain #memories #canon compliant #sad remus #hpbrokenhearts fest #sorry not sorry #hannah don't kill me

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader

Chapter 5- Valhalla

Summary: The gala was fun and all, a mild exception being when you almost got choked out by one of the Swedes. For the time being, you and Diego get a surprise visit by the rest of the Hargreeves.

If you want tagged just hit me up. Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @fandomoverlord221 @la-vie-en-amour1 @2cuteforyourlies @thatfandombitcch

“You know, I’m starting to get the feeling Dads avoiding us.” Five says frustrated, looking on as the cars continue to hastily leave the ruined party.

“Yeah, no shit.” You mumble back at him, fixing your dress, as you happen to notice how it now has a nice clean rip where the shoulder seam should be together. In the face of danger all accessories are temporarily forgotten, oh well, you didn’t even like the dress anyways, to constricting.

“Hate to be the boring one, guys, but, uh, it’s time to get the hell out of here.” Says Lila as she walks into view from behind some bushes and a brick wall, continuing to walk past all of you until she reaches the pavement, stopping to turn around and usher you three to follow.

“When you say “we,” who exactly are you referring to?” Challenges Five.

“Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence.” Replies Lila, shrugging him off.

“Listen, I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but whatever it is, I’d advise you return posthaste.” Five says, using that pushy tone of his again, done with Lila’s falsities.

“She’s right Five we gotta get outta here.” Mutters Diego, looking around slightly nervously.

“I just saved your life, you kinder-shit. If I hadn’t stepped in, all that would be left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks.” She snaps back.

“That’s the problem. You’re too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much. And you fight like you know what you’re doing.” Five says making a compelling point. You eye her up suspiciously.

“He’s not wrong.” You tell her, equally as conflicted as to who or what she truly is.

“So I know how to handle myself. And that makes me the bad guy?” She questions calmly like what we’re saying is absolutely ridiculous.

“Whoever you are, you’re in my way. If I see you again, I will kill you.” States Five seriously, with restrained anger flashing in his eyes as he gives her a last dirty look before walking away back to Elliot’s house.

Looking to you and Diego in disbelief, she turns to go walking a couple of feet before turning back to the both of you. “Guys come on we have to go.” She urges.

“I was getting my ass handed to me back there. You helped Five, not me.” He questions walking in closer to here accusingly.

“Because he’s a kid and you’re a man. Bloody act like one for god sakes, Y/N didn’t appear to need any help. If I remember correctly.” She says in defense, trying to get her point across without giving herself away.

Nodding Diego walks past her. You look up at her pleading eyes and look down for a second thinking of what to do. Making up your mind, you purse your lips together, walking past her as well.

“Y/N, really?” She pleads, knowing she’s losing the battle. You turn to her.

“I liked you Lila, you were fun to hang around with for awhile, I’ll admit. But we know nothing about you, and shits gotten weirder then ever. And right now I can sense that your lying to us, I wouldn’t even have to look at you to know that, I can practically smell it.” You explain to her without much remorse, you knew something was up after all, and nothing is getting in the way of your family’s safety. If she happens to be with the wrong people, that is.

You stare at her for a second more before turning around and following Diego. Tired of all the crazy shit you’d endured at the party.

“Oh, come on. Y/N? Diego? Really? You’re just gonna walk away?” She yells, as Diego starts to make a beeline for the woods. You ignore her calls as you jump over the thigh high stone wall and into the woods you go.

——

The next morning you and Diego get a surprise visit from Luther, someone whom you haven’t seen in a year and a half. After greetings are said, he walks in hungry as ever. So now here you are in Elliot’s kitchen as Luther makes himself a ridiculously large amount of scrambled eggs. You, Diego, Five, and Luther in the midst of a discussion on everything that’s happened up until now.

Smelling the delicious scent of scrambled eggs you sit on the kitchen table with your boots on the chair, looking between Diego and Luther who’s currently cooking said eggs at the moment. Watching as Diego paces back and forth heated about the ass kicking you, Five, and himself received last night.

“No, no, no, I don’t understand. They keep following me and Y/N. Those Dutch fuckers.” Diego points out, attempting to explain his thoughts to Five.

Wait, who?” Wonders Luther, trying to keep up with what’s going on.

“Some Swedish sociopaths.” You answer bluntly.

“Precisely Y/N, atleast one of you is paying attention.” Turning to Diego he continues, “They’re hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do anymore damage to the timeline.”

“Yeah, but why now? I mean I’m fine for three months until you showed up.” Diego growls, snapping his fingers angrily at Five’s unflinching form.

“Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me.” Luther adds, focusing on the eggs he’s still cooking.

Pointing to Five you reply, “Luther’s got a point. I was here for almost two years and I haven’t been randomly hunted down by anyone. Then you show up and I get put in a choke-hold.” You say raising an eyebrow at him.

“Even if it was my fault, which it isn’t, we only have six days before the end of the world, and the closest anyone’s gotten to Dad was that driveway at the consulate.” Comments Five, glancing between the three of you.

Quietly Luther speaks up, “Well that’s not exactly true.” He says with a sigh, looking at the wall before turning to your guys’ confused faces.

“What do you mean?” Asks Five, stepping in closer.

“You didn’t?” He looks away from your prying gaze, he did.

“I saw him.” Luther says, looking nervously at you three, like a child getting caught with a frog in his pocket. He then proceeded to go on a long and boring story about how he traveled back to the Umbrella Academy, talked with Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself, only to get shot down and sternly told to leave. Of course that’s what was going to happen, idiot, he doesn’t even know who you are.

Sitting to Luther’s right and Diego to his left with Five in a chair to your back left. You slouch leaning your arms against the table, propping your head up with your right arm, as you lean against the wall. Listening to the two converse about his misfortunes.

“That’s pathetic.” Diego tells Luther bluntly.

“Yeah, well at least he didn’t shank my ass.” He mumbles, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“No, bro, he shanked your heart.” Diego says in the most sincere voice you’ve heard in awhile.

Snorting with amusement from your side of the table, you add bluntly, “Well it wouldn’t be the first time.” Gaining a chuckle from Diego and an eye roll from Five.

“Mhm, hilarious.” Luther replies sarcastically, continuing to scarf down more eggs.

Walking into the doorway to the kitchen, Elliot stops, looking confused at Luther. “Is that my bathrobe?” Staring up at him like a deer in the headlights he says innocently, “No”

“Look, who cares what he shanked? He knows something about time travel.” Interrupts Five, talking to the three of you.

“Uh, wait, why don’t we just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?” Wonders Elliot.

Standing up visibly frustrated, not really caring enough to explain himself anymore, Five asks the three of you sitting down. “Anyone care to explain?”

Luther looks up at Elliot ready to clarify why, “First time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse.” Diego adding, “Second time, he ended up without hair on his balls.”

“Last time I tried it, I scattered my family across three years in Dallas, Texas, possibly triggering a doomsday.” Five says, while making himself a cup of coffee. “Anymore questions, Elliot?”

“Uh, no.” Studders Elliot, finally getting the point.

“You’re all missing the big picture. Dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that’s planning to kill the president.” Diego says sternly.

“A cabal?” Luther asks, confused again.

“Ignore him” You tell Luther, earning a glare from Diego, you smile at him innocently.

“Look, the way I see it, we only have one option.” States Five.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Questions Luther, half sarcastically.

“It’s time to get the Umbrella Academy back together.” Five says in all seriousness.

“Hell yeah, family meeting.” Diego grins, looking at you, you lift an arm up in reply.

“Why not?”

——

Sitting in the upstairs area near the balcony are Diego, Luther, Vanya, and Elliot, who’s trying to explain the workings and history of jello to everyone. No one really caring enough to listen to his rambling about how it’s made. Meanwhile, you stand looking down at the doors in excited anticipation for your long lost friends.

You listen as they bicker from behind you, Diego still salty about getting the life sucked out of him by Vanya’s energy tentacles, finally they make their peace and you smile to yourself. Proud that he’s matured a bit since then, knowing old Diego probably wouldn’t even be talking to her right now. Hearing the sound of a bell ring, you look up to the doors and spot Five, Allison, and Klaus making their way inside. Shouting their own greetings not catching sight of the rest of you just yet. Now finally looking up, they spot the four of you and shock instantly arrives on their faces, everyone looking at each other with dumbfounded smiles.

“Oh, wow. I know this is impossible, but, did we all get sexier?�� Klaus wonders his eyes landing on each of you. You smile at him, missing his stupid humor.

The four of you walk quickly down the steps, grateful to have the whole family back together again. You rush up to Klaus, engulfing him a bear huge. “I missed my partner in crime.” You tell him smiling like an idiot. Breaking away, still holding onto your arms he adds, “Ah my dear, how I’ve missed our Friday night margarita parties.” Smiling at you, Diego then comes in for a brotherly greeting himself. “Oh, you are drunk.”

“Yeah. No, just a little...just a few.” He says glancing at you for a second. You grin shaking your head at him, typical Klaus. He then turns to participate in a group hug with Vanya and Allison. You speed walk over, stretching your arms along with him, engaging in the friendly hug as well. Collecting yourselves together again, you stand back grateful for everyone still being alive and well.

“Klaus. Is Ben here?” Five questions, gathering the attention of everyone.

Putting a hand on his hip he casually says, “Oh, uh...no. No, unfortunately, ghosts can’t time travel.” He says, as he looks around to all of you, avoiding your gaze. You then hear an oddly aggravated whisper as the air pricks with static. Only you notice it, turning to the empty chairs you smirk. You know Ben’s here. Even though you can’t see the dead like Klaus can, whenever he’s around you and as long as he’s not to intoxicated, are you able feel the presence of the ghosts that follow him.

“Y/N is this true?” Five asks you, not completely believing him.

Winking at the chair you turn back to Five, glancing at Klaus for a second. As he rolls his eyes at you. “Everyone’s accounted for. Alive. And dead.” You state.

“All right, then. Let’s get down to business.” Five ends with, starting to walk up the stairs. Never one to mess around for too long, huh.

——

Everyone stares at Five as he begins to apologize for stranding us all here in the 60′s. Then he goes on to confirm about this new apocalypse and whatnot. Surprising Klaus, evidently leading to the discovery of his cult that he apparently somehow started, not that you’re that stunned, if we’re being honest.

Five then shows the picture of Sir Reginald standing on the grassy knoll, Diego fully believing him to be the cause of Kennedy’s death, and Five saying it could be something else entirely. You agreeing with the the more probable explanation of Fives. He does express the fact that no one really knows shit about anything quit yet either, so how could we know it’s actually Reginald on the grassy knoll.

Diego then starts rambling about how the assassination and the apocalypse have to do with their dad, yet again. Five cutting in with his own calculated approach.

“But we know something changes the timeline, we have to make this right.”

“Yeah, but how, if we don’t know what’s broken?” Adds Allison, who’s sitting next to Vanya on the couches large plushy armrest. Klaus sipping a glass of beer or something of the like behind them.

“Come on, do the math. We know Dad’s having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We know he’s on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president.” He says looking at everyone, trying to convince them. “So I think we know what we have to do.” He says, walking over to Five after delivering that dramatic line.

Both of them speak at the same time.

“Find Dad.” Says Five.

“Kill Dad.” Says Diego, with slight aggression, your eyebrows raise in surprise.

Everyone looks up at him, confusion clearly written on every single one of your faces. You honestly weren’t expecting Diego to throw the whole ship out to sea. He wants to kill the old fart huh, yeah that’s not gonna fuck up the timeline or anything.

“None of us are supposed to be here, right? I mean, what if it’s us? Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?” Questions Vanya who gets nothing but nervous glances from mostly everyone. You included.

“Diego and Y/N, have been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald.” Blurts out Luther.

“I was an unwilling accomplice.” You retort, sneering at him.

“And you’re working for Jack Ruby.” Diego cuts in defensively.

Klaus speaks up adding, “Allison has been very involved in local politics.” He says, while laying comfortably on the couch.

“Okay, you started a cult.” She snaps back.

“And I’m a nanny on a farm. I don’t have anything to do with all of that.” Vanya says calmly.

“Well, maybe you do, we just don’t know yet.” Allison adds.

Diego whistles bringing the attention of everyone back to him. “Listen to yourselves. Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can’t be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting the government, Dad is on the grassy knoll, Klaus is...” he pauses for a second. “Doing something weird and pervy but probably related. See, clearly we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy.” Diego rambles completely serious about his mindset on Kennedy and the real reason why you are all here. I’m in love with an idiot, you think. Opening your mouth to state your opinion, the rest of them doing the same. Five sits back in thought, sick of all his siblings and yours nonsense.

Sitting up quickly, Five interrupts sadly, “Guys, you all die. Even Y/N. I was there. I saw it. And I wanna forget it, but I can’t.” Everyone shuts up listening to him talk about the end of the world. “I saw Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it...in a war that never happened until we brought it here. And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to me.” Everyone looks on concerned and nervous, letting the hard truth about the future set in. “I don’t know if things we’ve experienced here are all connected. I don’t know if there’s a reason for everything. But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead.”

Pondering the words Five just said to everyone, Luther suddenly gets up. “Okay, I’m out.”

Frustrated Five raises his voice, “Did you even hear me, Luther?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I heard a 58-year-old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything. Well you can count me out. It’s time we all grew the hell up.” Grumbles Luther, frustrated with everyone and the idiotic idea of going to Sir Reginald for help.

Standing behind the opposite couch of Allison and Vanya, you turn to Five vexed by what he just told you, raising your voice slightly. “Did you get knocked on your head as a child, I mean all of you, seriously? When has Sir Reginald-stick-up-his-ass-Hargreeves ever legitimately helped us do anything?” You pushed, trying to make a point. “Even though I thought I’d never say this actual sentence in my entire life, I’m with Luther. Fuck that old monocle wearing dipshit. I’m out.” You huff pissed off. How could they all actually agree to meeting up with him, like he’s gonna talk it out and everyone’s gonna be A-Okay again, no way. You lived in the Umbrella Academy for seven years. It wasn’t what one would call, a walk in the park.

Everyone’s eyes are on you by the time you’ve finished your passionate rant, all looking very perplexed by your outburst. Your opinionated eruptions aren’t anything new, as you’ve always stood up for yourself and what you believe in, but. You sadly understood that even as grown up as they all are, they still seek guidance in the old man. Luther’s right, it’s time they’ve all gotten their shit together.

“Alright then.” Luther adds turning to walk towards the stairs, you hot on his tail. Hearing the calls from everyone else for you two to come back, you ignore them. Even when Diego gets up, questioning the both of you.

“Don’t.” You glare at him darkly, not wanting to hear any more bullshit about JFK or Reginald.

In a flash, Five teleports directly in front of Luther, blocking your exit down the steps.

“No one leaves until we figure this out.” Five says, a stern expression on his determined face.

Sighing, Luther grabs his uniform, picking him up and throwing him off the staircase. Where Five teleports somewhere before he can hit the hard, tiled floor below.

——

Walking down the side street, next to Luther you keep your eyes forward not wanting to hear anything Diego tries to tell you. Taking the hint, Diego decides to talk to Luther instead. “What’s going on with you, big boy?”

“Ugh, leave me alone, Diego.” Grunts Luther, keeping his eyes forward and locked onto the street ahead of him.

“Huh? So, what, you’re just gonna sucker punch Five and haul ass, huh.” Looking to you, he continues not being able to stop himself. “And don’t even get me started on you, I mean really, you follow me around and then decide to throw in the towel.” He questions dangerously, honestly a bit annoyed that this whole time you were never really on board for saving the president.

You roll your eyes, about to let him have it. “I’m not stepping anywhere near that old fuck. We could handle ourselves, if the rest of you weren’t complete fucking idiots.” You snap.

Grumbling something incomprehensible, he turns to Luther. “You got a legitimate reason for walking out on us?”

“Look, maybe trying to stop doomsday is exactly what starts it. Did you ever think of that?”

“Oh, so we do nothing? Since when are you a quitter?” Challenges Diego.

“Since the last time I destroyed the world by overestimating my own importance.” Luther exclaims, defensively.

“So this is about you never living up to the old man’s expectations bullshit, huh?” Says Diego, trying to keep up with the two of you who are walking quit briskly down the side street.

Luther scoffs, “Maybe. I don’t know, I mean we’re all crazy where Dad’s concerned.”

“Oh, I’m not.” Adds Diego smiling. Yeah okay hot stuff keep telling yourself that, you think, forcing yourself to hold it in. “He’s an asshole. I’m awesome, and Y/N would agree with me too, if she wasn’t so moody. It’s all very simple. You have to understand that, okay?” Diego says smartly, so damn sure of himself.

Stopping at the sidewalk you cross your arms turning to Diego. “So why can’t you leave JFK alone then, hmm?” You look up expectantly, raising an eyebrow as wait for the truth.

He pauses for a moment, “I’m a hero. Heroes stop crime.” He tells you earnestly, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Shaking your head at him you take a deep breath, Luther coming to your aid. “No, no, no. No, Dad told you you’re a hero. Right? He told all of us. But what if he lied? What if we’re just a bunch of freaks who have no business changing the world.” Shouts Luther.

“No, everyone changes the world, Luther. Everyone. And it’s scary, but that’s kinda the deal. You know, your so goddamn big, sometimes I forget what a sensitive bastard you are.” Making eye contact with you he continues, “It’s all gonna work out. We’re on the right path.”

“You sound like a religious cat poster.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you know?” Asks Luther confused and frustrated.

Deciding to draw their attentions to something more important, you state an unseen but obvious fact, one that you’ve been silently tracking since the three of you left Elliot’s place. “Hey dipshit’s, there’s a long black car that’s been following us since we left Elliot’s.” They look at you confused for a second. “Six o’clock.”

Luther turns around as a mysterious black vehicle rolls up to you three. The driver getting out and pulling a piece of paper from his inner suite pocket. Handing it to Diego, who takes it cautiously.

Cutting it open with one of his knifes, he begins to read it aloud, “To my pursuers: I, Reginald Hargreeves...request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, half past seven o’clock, 1624 Magnolia Street.” He finishes, looking up at the two of you.

“A light supper?” Luther wonders.

Luther and Diego then turn to you, Diego with a dumb smirk plastered across his face, you roll your eyes and hang your head back in defeat. “Goddammit.” You deadpan.

“Anyone hungry?” Luther randomly asks, you guessing it’s his attempt at lighting up the mood.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #number two #what a time to be alive fic #falcor the luck dragon stories

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aliendes · 4 years

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Natural Borns - Chapter Two

AUTHOR NOTE: all right, here is chapter 2 guys! I’m really excited about the next few chapters where more characters will be introduced. This chapter is kind of a build up to that, so I apologize for not a lot of action yet. It’s a sloooow burn! And I have a new banner made by the lovely @thebannershop, check them out, they are amazing! Anyways if you like this chapter, please please please reblog so more people can see it and send me an ask or comment with your questions! I love to hear your guys’ theories about the story. Also, please be sure to read warnings at the beginning of each chapter, because they may change. Thank you for your support on this series! xx - Des

Banner made by @thebannershop Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual) Warnings: mentions of panic attacks & anxiety in this chapter! this series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any. Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it? Word count: 5.1k~

As you continued to take cautious steps, your back collided with something firm, yet not hard enough to be a tree trunk. This was softer, warmer. Human.

Before you could take off running you felt gentle, but large, hands on your shoulders. “Don’t scream, please. We aren’t here to hurt you,” a deep, yet soft voice spoke quickly. Did he just say we!? Despite the strong sense of fear you were feeling, the voice sounded sincere, comforting almost. The hands on your shoulder spun you around and you were met, face to face, with a tall and undeniably handsome man. His features were perfect, too perfect. Plush lips and small, kind eyes. No way is he a natural born. Your eyes widened in fear, and almost as if he could sense your flight response kicking in, he held his hands in front of him placatingly, “hey - hey I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” He rushed out. Did he sound - scared? He seemed almost nervous with the way his brow was furrowed, looking at you with sad eyes.

“Wh- who are you? Wh-what do you w-want?” you stuttered out, the feeling of tears prickling behind your eyes. You took another step backwards, but stumbled in the process, tripping over uneven dirt. You fell unceremoniously to the ground, huffing out a breath as you landed.

He reached his hand out, like he wanted to help, but he took a step back, as if to lessen your fear a bit. “I wanted to talk to you about that man that came to see you earlier,” he started slowly, trying to show you he meant no harm, “that’s all.” His eyes softened significantly at your nearly cowering form on the ground.

Upon the mention of Hyunwoo, your eyes snapped to the strange man’s. It was the first time you stared directly into his eyes, and really took in the man’s face. Even though his features were damn near perfect, his expression was that of pure anguish, sadness, and maybe a dash of fear. His eyes, while beautiful, were dark and he looked worn down, tired. “H-hyunwoo?” you stuttered out, blinking away hot tears.

The man’s eyes perked up upon hearing the name. “You know him?” He now looked at you with a curious expression. Slowly you nodded, shifting your eyes from his face to the ground in front of you, feeling flustered all of the sudden. You didn’t like attention to begin with, hated it in fact, but you don’t think you’ve ever had attention from someone so perfect, someone you assumed was a designer baby. The only time you’d ever even met one was when companies would send representatives to your home or school to scout you. Even then, you didn’t really get to see them this up close.

The stranger hesitated for a second, seemingly thinking something over, before kneeling down in front of you. He reached a hand out in view of your face, causing you to eye it warrily. He could see that you were about to cry, could see the scrapes on the palms of your hands, but he didn’t want you to think he was pitying you. Didn’t want you to think he thought less of you for any reason. Didn’t want to seem intimidating in any way. His offer was a silent one, an unspoken concern of; let me help.

With unshed tears clouding your vision, you placed your shaky hand in his strong one. What he did next surprised you. Instead of pulling you to your feet, which your muscles had already prepared for, he kneeled down in front of you and turned your hand over, inspecting the scrapes you didn’t even realize you had. “Will you let my friend clean your hands up?” He asked softly.

“I- I don’t” you trailed off, looking between this stranger and the peach trees off to your side. Was there someone else here? He did say we. What is going on? There were so many thoughts running through your head you couldn’t process them all at once. “Wh-what is going on?” You asked, bottom lip wobbling.

The stranger's eyes never left your while you spoke, but at your question he looked behind you and nodded briefly. “My name is Namjoon,” he said simply, a soft smile playing at his lips, kindness in his dark eyes.

You felt a presence at your right, causing you to startle quite violently. You turned quickly to look at the person approaching you only to meet eyes with probably the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. He was tall, like Namjoon as you now knew him, and had even plumper lips than him. His shoulders were so broad, when you looked up at him he was completely blocking the sun from your view. As you looked up at him, he wore a shocked and almost embarrassed look on his face. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to-to scare you,” he stuttered out as he sat cross legged on your side. He seemed almost abashed. You almost forgot that you were holding Namjoon’s hand until he passed it over to the newcomer. “I’m Seokjin, but you can call me Jin, for short.” He smiled at you, a warm smile, one that made you feel like you were safe with him. Seokjin took your hand in his before reaching into a backpack you didn’t realize he had been carrying. The backpack was brown leather and looked expensive, only supporting your theory that these men were definitely not from around here, and definitely weren’t natural borns.

“What - what are you doing here?” You asked, a fraction less frazzled than before with the soft way Seokjin is handling you. You felt him gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb as he cleaned the scrape on your palm. It stung slightly, but you were more worried about getting answers. “Why are you here?” It came out harsher than you intended, but your anxiety was skyrocketing at the moment.

Namjoon heaved a sigh, finally giving in to the pressure on his knees and sat down in the dirt directly in front of you. Now, all three of you were sitting in a little circle under one of the heavily blossoming peach trees, oranges and pinks surrounding you. “We wanted to talk to you about Hyunwoo,” Namjoon started, “We wanted to warn you.”

You don’t think Namjoon could’ve sounded anymore ominous with that statement. “Warn me? What do you mean?” You were starting to panic a little, jostling in Seokjin’s gentle hold. He loosened his grip on your wrist so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt yourself.

“Do you trust me?” Namjoon asked suddenly. You cocked your head to the side and narrowed your eyes slightly at him. Did you? Your brain was screaming at you to tell him no, stand up, and run in the direction of your father’s shed. But something else inside you was telling you to stay right where you are, listen to what he has to say. To trust him.

“I- I’m not sure..” you trailed off, looking briefly at Seokjin who had just finished bandaging your hand and was politely waiting for you to hand him your other one. You obliged to his silent request, awkwardly reaching your left arm across your body. You definitely felt like you could trust Jin in this moment and you think he must be a mind reader because he suddenly speaks up.

“Do you know who Hyunwoo is?” he asked, still smiling slightly at you. He had such a calming aura surrounding him. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding before answering his question.

“I just know he’s my father’s old classmate,” you started, looking between Jin and Namjoon hesitantly, “he came by early this morning. I just assumed he was from another company that wants to buy my DNA. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Namjoon was quick to butt in, “No!” he said loudly before realizing his mistake when you flinched. He looked annoyed with himself as he started again, “No, no of course not. We’re just like you…” he said with uncertainty, realizing you never spoke your name.

“YN”, you said quickly, wanting to hear what Namjoon had to say and not thinking about the repercussions of giving your name to strangers.

“YN,” he said slowly, the side of his lips quirked up. Dimples. Cute. His dimples made him look slightly less intimidating in that moment. “YN, we’re exactly like you and we wanted to warn you about Hyunwoo and the company he works for.” The smirk quickly disappeared from his features, replaced only with concern.

“What do you mean ‘exactly like me’?” You were confused. You’ve never met anyone ‘exactly like you’, as Namjoon had put it.

Seokjin finished bandaging your left hand and was repacking his backpack as he spoke, “We’re natural borns, and we aren’t the only ones,” he said as he zipped up his bag. You let out a laugh against your will, slapping your hand over your mouth, wide eyes looking up at the two men. Seokjin silently chuckled and you momentarily thought it was the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen. Perfectly straight, white teeth on display as his eyes crinkled in laughter. You definitely didn’t believe him after seeing that.

“There’s no way you- both of you- are natural borns,” you said incredulously after removing your hand from your mouth.

It was Namjoon’s turn to laugh, letting out a dry laugh, “YN, are you a natural born?”

Your mouth snapped shut and your wide eyes turned to look at Namjoon. “Y-yes.” You murmured. You still weren’t sure why exactly they were here, but they must have known that already.

“Then why do you think it’s impossible for us to be natural borns, when you’re sitting right here?”

Was he trying to flatter you? Your cheeks flushed as you looked down at the ground. “I’m nothing special,” you said shyly, not looking either of them in the eye. “I’m just me.”

Namjoon and Seokjin shared a knowing look that you missed. “YN - you’re not normal. You have to know that. Why else do you think companies like Hyunwoo’s won't leave you alone?” You knew there was something different about you. You’ve been told your whole life that you were beautiful, remarkable, even, but mostly by those designer baby companies, and not people whose opinions you actually cared about. Growing up you had been bullied, messed with, told you weren't worth it. Eventually those comments will get to anyone.

You shook your head lightly at Namjoon’s comment. “Don’t try and flatter me, it won't work.” You had a momentary burst of bravery as you folded your arms over your chest and looked Namjoon in the eye.

“I’m not trying to flatter you. We’re here to warn you, that’s all. Maybe get to know you, and let you get to know us. It’s hard being alone, we know that all too well,” Namjoon spoke slowly, almost as if he was afraid you would bolt.

“How do you know what it’s like to be alone?” You didn’t mean to sound so rude and judgemental, but it was hard for you to imagine these two handsome men ever having to face hardships in their lives. They probably grew up in big cities, had lots of friends.

“Most of us went through, or are going through the same thing you’re going through right now. I can guess that you probably don’t have many friends. Been used for your looks on more than one occasion, and I can tell that you have pretty shitty self-esteem from the little bit I’ve gotten to know you.” Namjoon said, nonchalantly as if he’s known you your whole life.

You huffed a little bit, blowing some of the hair that had fallen in front of your face. “You don’t know me.”

Namjoon let out another laugh, except this time his perfect teeth and cute dimples were on full display. “Stubborn, too.”

Seokjin smiled at this, looking at you before standing up to his full height. He looked more intimidating up there, but he offered you his hand, pulling you gently to your feet. “Be careful with your hands, they should heal up in a couple days.” You nodded shyly at him before letting go of his large hand.

“Will you let us explain why we’re here? Maybe somewhere,” Namjoon glanced over at your home and father’s shed in the distance, “where we won't be interrupted?”

You have never been one to talk to strangers, always on edge, wary of crowds and people. But something was telling you to go with Namjoon, find somewhere to talk, and you knew the perfect place.

You led Namjoon and Seokjin through your family's orchard and off the west side of your property line. Just past your land, there was a denser conifer forest, filled with thick shrubs and oak trees that led to a small stream downhill. You knew the forest like the back of your hand, having lived in your small house your entire life. One of your favorite places to be was by this stream, but you hadn’t been out here in years, too busy with the farm since becoming an adult.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Seokjin stated, hands gripping his backpack straps that surrounded his broad shoulders, “do you come out here often?”

You stifled a laugh. It sounded like a cheesy pickup line you would hear in one of the dramas your mom watched. “I used to,” you began, looking around and taking in the scenery. The stream was flowing quickly, a sign that rain had fallen recently. You could hear the buzzing of insects that came with the summer heat and humidity, “I haven’t in a while though.”

Seokjin nodded his head, not prodding any further. He looked up at the canopy, only to see thick leaves and pine that completely covered the forest ground from the sun. Along the edges of the small stream were river stones, some nearly completely covered in moss. The fast tinkling of the water over the rocks was soothing, you almost forgot how much you loved it here. You took in a deep breath, allowing the smells of fresh pine and dirt to enter your nose.

“Will your parents be wondering where you are?” Namjoon asked as he sat down on a rock crossing one leg over the other.

You shook your head quickly, “Mom’s at the market, she won't be back for a while. Dad’s working in his shed, he-” you started, but quickly stopped. You weren’t sure how much you should share with these strange men, “he won’t be looking for me,” you conceded.

Namjoon nodded in acknowledgement before beginning, “You probably have a lot of questions for us, so I’ll keep this quick,” as he spoke you watched Seokjin set his bag down next to Namjoon and walk over to the edge of the water. He cupped his hands together and gathered some water in his hands, splashing it over his face. You watched him curiously before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “Like we told you, we’re natural borns. True natural borns, and like you, we’re different.”

You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘different’. Sure, you knew you looked different from what most natural borns looked like. Your nose was a bit sharper, cheek bones a little higher, lips a little fuller, but you didn’t think you looked much different than what designer babies looked like. You didn’t think you were unique or special in any way. “I- I don’t feel different,” you said, instinctively reaching your hands out in front of you, turning them over and looking at them.

Namjoon laughed, like a full belly laugh, at your movements. You couldn’t quite hear over the sound of his laughter, but you swear you heard Jin mutter ‘cute’ from the stream.

After his laughter subsided a bit, Namjoon patted the rock next to him, gesturing for you to sit down. You reluctantly sat, still unsure if you should trust these two. “Well, what do you know about yourself?”

It was an odd question. One you weren’t sure how to answer. “Uh- um, I mean I’m YLN YN, I’m 23. I never went to college, never left my home town. I know I look a little different from most natural borns, but uh, that’s all I guess.”

“And your parents?” Namjoon supplied when he realized you weren’t going to continue.

“What about my parents?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What do you know about your parents?” His eyes narrowed slightly when he asked, almost like he was testing you. Does he know something you don’t?

“They-they’re both natural borns. From this town. My dad’s parents owned our peach farm before they passed away. It’s been in our family for a long time.” You shrugged your shoulders a little bit, shaking your head. You weren’t sure what Namjoon was getting at.

“Are you sure?” As Namjoon asked the question, you heard - and felt - Seokjin splash water on him from behind you, getting you a little wet in the process. Namjoon made a sound of surprise as he turned around quickly to glare at the other man. “What was that for?”

“Leave her be, Joon,” he scolded gently. He really did seem like a motherly type, taking care of others and keeping them in line.

“What do you mean, ‘am I sure’?” You asked, a little defensively, squaring your shoulders and turning your entire body towards Namjoon. You could hear Seokjin’s sigh behind you as he turned his attention back to the stream.

“Look, we don’t have all the answers, but we have our own personal experiences,” Namjoon let out a heavy breath before continuing, “I grew up in Ilsan in a small community of natural borns. I was approached by designer baby companies starting when I was in middle school. I realized something was different about me when they wouldn’t leave me alone by the time I graduated high school.”

Your defensive stance softened a bit at his story. You couldn’t help but compare the words he was saying with your own experiences. “When I was about to graduate, that man that came to your house, you called him Hyunwoo?” You nodded at his question, “He came to make my mother an offer. Told her that they would pay her over a million won for me. He told her that I would be taken care of, that they just wanted my DNA.” He looked behind him at Seokjin as he told his story. Jin was sitting now, back leaned up against a large boulder. He had his knees at his chest, playing with one of his shoelaces. You guessed he must be at least a few years older than you, but he looked so childlike right now. If what Namjoon is telling you is true, they must have been through a lot. “My mother agreed. I don’t blame her, I really don’t. He made it seem like everything would be fine, that I would finish high school while in their care and my college would be paid for,” Namjoon let out a dry chuckle, “they told her I’d be with them for 3 months, 6 max.” He had a glazed look in his eyes as he stared at a tree off in the distance. You focused on his face in this moment, and you could see his pain, sadness, grief, even. You could tell this man before you was extremely intelligent. He had hidden these emotions so well earlier, he wore a mask. You felt bad for him, and your empathetic side was hurting for him. “I was there for years. They experimented on me, poked me with needles, deprived me of food. What I went through there, YN - I- I can’t let happen to anyone else,” he looked you directly in the eye as he continued, “that’s why we came here. To help you.”

A look of realization took over your face, eyes widening. “They want to take me? Bu-but my parents would never let that happen. They - they’ve always protected me!” You knew your parents had gone to great lengths to make sure you were never poached by companies, always turning down offers for large sums of money in exchange for you.

“YN, have you ever seen that man - Hyunwoo - before today?” You shook your head no quickly, “But you said your father has known him for years?” You shook your head yes this time, only more slowly, afraid of Namjoon’s next words, “Why do you think he’s showing up now? Why do you think your father has never mentioned him before?”

Your father’s stiff shoulders and your mother’s look of uncertainty from this morning flashed through your mind briefly. “I- no. Th-they wouldn’t lie to me.” Your voice was quiet, almost too soft for Namjoon to hear. You startled violently, hand over your chest as you felt Seokjin’s warm arm swing around your shoulders. You hadn’t heard him even get up from his rock. You felt him jump slightly at your movement. You made a mental note that he must scare easily, like you.

“We didn’t come here to frighten you, or to turn you against your parents. We came here to warn you, to let you know what that man is capable of.” Seokjin said calmly, dark eyes boring into your own.

“YN, we were both taken by Hyunwoo, and his company, Big Hit Pharmaceuticals. Kidnapped. We both went through things no one should ever have to endure, and more natural borns just like us, like you, are going through it right now. Some of them are our friends, our brothers. We don’t want this to happen to anyone else.” Namjoon finished somberly, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, waiting for you to react.

Big Hit Pharmaceuticals… Why did that name sound so familiar? You furrowed your brow as you thought back. Where have you heard that name before? You were snapped out of your reverie as Seokjin spoke up, “We live and travel together, Namjoon, myself, and three others. All natural borns, all running from Big Hit,” Jin took his arm from around your shoulders and reached down to grab one of the hands you had placed in your lap, nervously picking at your fingernails. He intertwined his fingers with yours, silently scolding your nervous tick. “We want to help you, YN. If you’ll let us.”

You quickly pulled your hand away from Jin, feeling apologetic, but unable to express it at the moment. You missed the look of understanding on Seokjin’s face as your eyes focused on your feet. You were starting to feel the familiar sense of panic swell in your chest. Your breathing was getting quicker, you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears, it was like all your blood left your body and was swirling in your head. You haven’t had a panic attack in years, usually only occurring in large crowds. But the thought of leaving your parents, of being taken away by Hyunwoo, even going somewhere with these men sitting next to you, was too much for you to handle. You clutched your hand to your chest, as if that would ease the tension within it.

Seokjin immediately took notice of your stress and wrapped his strong arms around your tiny frame. At first you were shocked to have a stranger's arms around you, but when your wide, scared eyes met his, all you saw was compassion and care. Your breathing started to slow as Jin squeezed even tighter around your body. It was an awkward hug, with both of you sitting sideways on a too small rock, but it was comforting nonetheless. It was strange to you, that Seokjin knew exactly how to help, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. His calm and comforting nature should have told you as much. Namjoon watched on with a worried expression, afraid that you would push away Jin’s act of comfort, but you didn’t. He didn’t expect you to actually start to calm down. Leave it to Jin to know exactly what to do.

As your breathing started to return to normal, Jin’s hold on you loosened. As your mind returned to a normal state, your thoughts did as well. You needed to get out of here, away from Namjoon and Seokjin. They were comforting, sure. But you weren’t sure if you totally believed them yet. You needed answers, needed to feel safe and secure in your home. You still felt safe there, right? Yes, yes. Of course you did. You physically shook the thoughts from your head and Jin removed himself from you completely.

“I need to go home,” you uttered quickly, “I need to get out of here.” You went to stand up, but Namjoon beat you to it, standing above you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please-” he started but you cut him off.

“I don’t know you!” You half-screamed, then lowering your voice again, arms gesturing frantically as you spoke, “I- I don’t know you, I’m sorry. I believe you - I do - but I need to figure some things out. I need to talk to my parents, my friends.” You could feel yourself panicking again, and as you’ve come to expect from Jin’s comforting presence, he was once again there rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back.

Namjoon pulled his hand back as if you had burned him, causing your gaze to fall upon him, a regretful look on his face. “It’s ok YN, we understand,” it was Jin who was speaking now, a soft smile on his plush lips, “I’ll give you my number and if you need anything, you can reach us. Is that ok with you?” He spoke so gently, you could do nothing but nod slowly at him, lips pursed in a thin line. You supposed taking his number wouldn’t hurt. Maybe you could speak with your parents and get some more answers from Seokjin later. You fished your phone out of your pocket, noticing the missed messages from your group chat, and handed it to Jin, which he gently took. His eyes darted back and forth between your two, looking for any resistance in your face, searching for any hesitation. When he found none, he turned his gaze to your phone and began typing.

“Please be safe, YN,” Namjoon spoke quietly. He sounded defeated, and for some reason it caused your heart to drop. Why did you care so much what this man thought? “Please,” he finished curtly.

Jin handed back your phone after a moment and went to grab his backpack, rising from his seat on the rock. He took a few steps towards Namjoon before stopping and turning his body halfway towards you. “You call me, or text me, if you need anything,” Jin started, slinging his backpack onto his shoulders, “I mean it.”

You nodded your head, yet remained seated on the rock. “Where are you going to go?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your question, “We’ll be around. Not too far. If you need us we can get to you quickly.”

You didn’t realize that was the answer you were looking for, but when he gave it, you felt… relief? You weren’t sure why you felt this way, but you suddenly felt a little lighter. You nodded your head again, looking between Namjoon and Seokjin.

Namjoon worried his bottom lip between his teeth and hesitated like he had something to say, but thought better of it, before giving you a curt nod and turning around. Jin offered the same type of nod, turning and placing his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. As they started to walk away, you could hear them murmuring quietly, but couldn’t make out the words over the babbling of the stream behind you. You watched as the pair walked through the dense forest and you idly wondered if they had been here before. They seemed to know where they were going at least, and you found an odd comfort in that fact. As they disappeared into the thick of the forest, you let out a breath you didn’t notice you’d been holding.

You suddenly felt exhausted. Mentally, physically, and most of all, emotionally. You just absorbed so much information and you didn’t know what to do with most of it. The first thing your brain unpacked was: there are others like you. You’ve always felt alone, isolated from other natural borns, but you never thought anything about you was special, per se. But after meeting Namjoon and Seokjin, if you truly were like them, they definitely were something special, at least based on their appearance alone.

The second thing you tried to come to terms with, was the fact that if you were indeed different, and like these two men, that meant Hyunwoo and Big Hit Pharmaceuticals were possibly going to attempt to take you, or buy you, from your parents. But this just caused more questions to form. Were your parents keeping something from you? The question Namjoon asked you earlier flashed through your mind.

Are you sure?

What did he mean by that? You need to talk to your parents, and soon. Maybe they knew something about what made you different. Why these companies wanted your, and others apparently, DNA.

You were so lost in your thoughts that your brain was just barely registering the fact that you could potentially be in danger. Namjoon and Jin both just told you they were essentially kidnapped and held against their will by this company, and you were sitting out in the middle of the forest, alone. This kicked you into high gear, standing up from the rock and looking in all directions. Seeing that you were completely alone should have calmed your anxiety, but all it did was make it worse. You needed to get home, and fast.

You took off running through the dense forest in the direction of your farm. Bare feet hitting the ground rapidly, twigs snapping and forest debris crunching under your weight. Pushing through the pain, you ran as fast as your legs would take you until you reached the edge of the forest, light finally shining through a gap in the trees. As you reached a clearing of brush, you could make out your home in the distance, past the orchard. You stopped running for a moment, feeling relief at the sight of your home. You looked on carefully, standing half hidden behind a tree, chest heaving from the physical exertion, trying to catch your breath. Squinting, you cocked your head to the side as you caught sight of something, or someone, in your driveway. There, in front of your house, was your father.

And Hyunwoo.

To be continued...

A/N: What do you guys think YN is going to do!? Super excited for the next chapters, where we will meet the rest of the group! Let me know what you think, as always if you want to be added to the taglist please follow me and comment or send me an ask!

taglist: @minifruity @mrcleanheichou

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wickxdangels · 4 years

Text

Travis Stoll Imagine; Dream Girl

Hello!! We are back this Monday with a Percy Jackson Imagine! I started reading the series last week and i’m currently on the third book which is so exciting! I love the Stoll brothers so making this imagine was so fun! i hope you guys like it! :) As always, I apologize if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know! And also, thank you everyone for the support and the cute comments i’ve been getting on my other stories! I love you all xx (also, sorry i couldn’t find a better pic to place)

Pairing; Travis Stoll x Reader

Warnings; None

Request; Would write a Travis Stoll x reader who is daughter of Ares who’s Clarisse’s second in command/best friend even though they’re opposite personalities and Connor is so sick of Travis’ pining for her that he decides to get them together?

It was a bright, hot and sunny day in Camp Half-Blood; the satyrs were running in the woods playing hide and seek with the dryads, who turned into trees whenever they tried to steal a kiss from them. Young demigods runnings through the camp wearing those bright-eye-cramping orange shirts, some of the kids from the Hermes Cabin were picking up the locks from the Camp Gift Shop. It was pretty much a normal summer day like any other.

Y/n was sitting down on top of a wooden-table, cleaning and filing her sword, it was something she found relaxing and it helped to calm down her ADHD for a bit. Mid-cleaning, she felt a pair of eyes staring into her. This has probably been the fifth time she has felt it in this week alone. She quickly looked up, not finding anyone on reach staring at her, it was infuriating not knowing who those stares belonged to but she brushed it off, it was stupid to get mad at something childish like that.

“Attention, attention, campers.” The voice of Mr. D, the camp director, said as he walked close by to the campers. Lots of them stop what they were doing to look at the news he was about to say. “Today we will be playing Capture The Flag, in about two hours or so, you all know what to do, gear up and blah blah..” That earned the cheers of lots of campers, and Mr. D with a quick a wave of his hand he dismissed them as he kept walking towards the Big House, to play some pinocle perhaps, as he complained how teenagers were always so loud.

Y/n then kept filing her sword as a blonde haired and all girl walked towards her, Clarisse La Rue, her half-sister. “Did you hear that? We’ll finally get to have another reason to beat up some kids and get back our flag from the Blue team!” The girl exclaimed with a sinister smile on her lips.

Y/n simply chuckled at her words and nodded. “Indeed, sis. It’s been too long since the last time we played, that flag needs to be back on Ares’s Team.” she said as she blew on her sword, grinning at her sister as she nodded.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat before the game, my stomach is killing me.” Clarisse said as Y/n tagged alone.

Y/n and Clarisse were both daughters of Ares, god of war. They belonged to Cabin 5, where lots of her other half-brothers lived year-round just like both of them. Ares kids shared lots of physical attributes, like their muscular bodies and tall height, meaning all of them looked big and scary, a good pro when it came to war or simple games like the one they were about to play. But when it came to personality, both girls couldn’t be more different.

Clarisse was the designated Camp Half-Blood bully, she was the one that messed with the new campers, just like she did with Percy Jackson. She would find the tiniest of reasons to start a riot and just set the world on fire if she could, just like their father.

Y/n on the other hand, was a bit more calm. Or well, as calm as a daughter of Ares could get. She enjoyed battles, she enjoyed kicking butt from here and there but sometimes she would just get tired of the same old. She wouldn’t pick fights as much as Clarisse did, well, not now anyways. But whenever her sister needed a fighting partner she would be there without a doubt, not giving a damn who started the fight, simply being there to put up a good show.

Some feet away, behind a tree was Travis Stoll, whose favorite hobby has radically changed from picking-up locks or throwing the best pranks in camp with his brother, to spying on Y/n behind trees…or behind anything really. He saw as the girl of his dreams walked away with his most-hated-camper, who was no one else but her sister, Clarisse.

“I really can’t believe you’re still secretly pinning over her, Travis! It’s been what? Four, five years? Don’t you think it’s time to act like a big boy and tell her for once and for all?” His younger brother’s voice made him jump from his hiding spot as he turned around to face him.

“Connor! Do you have to be that loud all the time?” He cried out, grabbing his brothers shoulder as they walked out of the forests and towards their cabin. “And you know I cannot do that, she’s literally my archenemy’s sister! And best friend! Also, not to forget about her dozen of brothers with anger-issues!” Travis complained, sighing as he kicked a little rock that was in his way. “I don’t know why life has to be so hard!”

“Travis, shut up. Jeez, you’re always complaining, it’s been five years! Five of which I had to hear you whining about Clarisse and how she would maim you if you were ever to confess your feelings for Y/n…can’t we get over that? I mean, the day will come when she’ll maim you regardless of your confession or not..” His brother shrugged, placing a comforting arm around him. “Also, I have a bet going on with Pollux.. and for me to earn the money means that you’ll have to confess your feelings for her today…” Connor confessed with a grin on his lips, highlighting his elvish features who looked so much like his brother’s.

Travis stopped mid-way as he stared at his brother, a deadly stare to be exact.

“YOU DID WHAT?” He sort-of yelled at him, making his younger brother grimace a bit. “How much did you bet, though?” He slowly asked, bit interested after all, money was money.

“Around twenty drachmas and some hundred bucks..” Connor shrugged as he scratched the back of his neck. “Is that an ‘okay brother, I’ll make you win the bet’?” He curiously asked with a sheepish smile.

“Ugh, you’re so gonna share that with me. And you’re gonna do my laundry for a month! After all, I don’t know.. I might end up missing a limb..”

“You always love to exaggerate, Travis. Chill, things might turn good.” He shrugged at his older brother as he raised both of his eyebrows in a funny manner.

Two hours later, after getting something to eat and putting on their armors, the Ares cabin walked towards the centre of the camp, there the rest of their allies, Cabins Four, Nine, Ten and Twelve were already in position and armed with their respective weapons of choice.

The blue team stood on their left side, she could’ve sworn she felt the usual stare again and she just knew it came from the blue team. At least she was a bit closer to knowing who her stalker is.

“Attention Campers, let’s get this over with.” Mr. D’s voice resounded through the crowd, besides him stood Chiron, who acted as the referee and was there in case anyone needed medical help. “For tonight’s game of Capture The flag, the blue team is lead by Annabeth and Percy, who have allied with Cabins Seven and Eleven.” He rolled his eyes as he then proceeded. “And Team Red is led by Clarisse and Y/n, who are joined by the remaining cabins.” He was too lazy to mention all of the cabins but it was no surprise coming from him. “You all know the rules by now, the creek is the boundary line, and the entire forest is fair game. Magic items are permitted, killing and maiming—much to my regret—are not.” He sighed as he tiredly placed his hands on his waist.

“I’ll be close by in case anyone is in need of my assistance.” Chiron commented as he looked at the campers in front of him.

“I believe Travis will be needing your assistance later on, Chiron!” Connor joked, making some of their teammates chuckle as Travis could only blush at the statement, he looked towards Y/n, hoping she wasn’t staring at him now, but much to his luck, she was chuckling along with Clarisse who had a deadly stare at him, making him shriver.

“Yeah, yeah. Well kids, off you go now! Shoo!” Mr. D said as he waved his hands, both of the teams were now running towards the forest and the hills.

The Ares cabin took the lead of the rest of the cabins as they ran towards their different positions, some of them were on border patrol duty as other were hiding behind bushes or trees, waiting for the other campers to come by so they could jump on them.

“Y/n, guard our flag! I’ll try to steal theirs!” Clarisse grinned as she ran off towards the lake, Y/n could only chuckle as she grabbed tightly on her sword and ran towards their red flag, ready to fight anyone who came in sight.

As she ran towards the forest, she could see her brothers fighting with the other campers, or well, the enemies. Her battle reflexes came in handy when someone was about to jump on her but she swiftly avoided her, bringing her sword up as she fought a blonde-haired girl from the Athena cabin, quickly disarming her before sending her flying backwards towards a tree with a hard kick on the chest. She’ll definitely be needing some ambrosia after this, she thought.

She chuckled as she kept running, she had missed the feeling of the air hitting in her face as she ran, the way her instincts would work whenever someone was attacking her, the balanced weight of her favorite sword in her hand.

One of the guys from the Apollo cabin came after her, making her chuckle when she easily avoided one of their arrows as it landed on a tree. “That wasn’t very smart, was it?” She asked with a smirk as she then ran towards him and before he could take another arrow, she kicked the bow out of his hands. “Bad choice.” She said before bringing the sword up, the kid was quick to avoid a hit before he tripped backwards on a branch, she was about to keep fighting as one of her brothers came to her.

“I’ve got this punk! Go protect the flag!” Her brother said before she nodded and smirked at the kid.

“Well, you’re just in luck!” She winked at him before running through the forest once again, making sure to avoid any distractions on the way.

Her feet were fast as she ran, ducking whenever she saw an arrow being shot at her and jumping whenever she would meet with a camper passed out on the floor, not many minutes later and the flag was already in her sight, she came closer to it, checking her surroundings for any enemy in sight.

Not many seconds had passed when she heard some steps coming on her way, she quickly jumped on top of a tree branch hiding, she saw as a guy came close to the flag but did not grab it, instead he looked around as if searching for someone.

She then took the advantage and jumped on top of him, making him land with his back on the floor as she had him trapped between her legs. “Huh, a son of Hermes. I thought it would be one of Athena’s kid the one who would come for the flag.” She said as she brought her sword up to his face, he looked just like every other Hermes’s kid, elvish features, curly hair, tall and kind of cute.

“No! Wait! I’m not here for the flag..” He confessed, having her so close to his body made him shriver, luckily his face was already red from the game if not he would be blushing madly.

“You are aware that we are playing Capture The Flag, don’t you?” She chuckled as she stared at him, her eyes looking directly into his blue ones as he felt the shiest he has ever felt in his life.

“Y-yes, yes! What I meant it’s that, I’ve been meaning to confess you something..” He said as she stood up, holding a hand out for him as he slowly grabbed it, she pulled and helped him stand up.

“Okay, now you’re kind of creeping me out, Travis.. What is it?”

“How.. how do you know who I am?” He asked, kind of surprised she didn’t mistake him for his brother, which happened quite a lot.

“We were friends, remember? When I first got here, you were one of that befriended me. I stayed in your cabin for some weeks before Ares claimed me. We used to play pranks on the Aphrodite kids so much that you thought I was one of Hermes kid’s as well.” She said chuckling as he nodded, he remember those times. That was the time when he started to develop his current huge crush on her.

“I.. I didn’t know you remembered that.” He gave her a bright smile as he scratched the back of his neck in a shy manner, something she thought she had never seen before on any kid of Hermes.

“Of course, I do! Now, what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh! That! Well, you see—” sadly he was too slow and too immersed on their chat that he did not see Clarisse flying at him, knocking him off his feet as they rolled down on the floor.

“It was you!” Clarisse yelled as she threw some punches at him, he luckily evaded some but not all of them, so he groaned when she had delivered a square punch to his right eye.

Now that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise, he thought.

“Clarisse! What are you doing? He was gonna say something to me!” Y/n said as she ran towards them, trying to pull her sister off of him.

“It’s him, y/n! He’s the one who’s been lurking behind trees and staring at you!” Clarisse said with disgust as she stood up from top of him, delivering nasty glances at Travis.

“Oh.. so you’re my little stalker, huh?” Y/n said with a smirk on her lips as she looked at Travis, helping him stand as he slowly nodded, grabbing onto his side as he looked embarrassed.

“Okay, I’ll have to say that that wasn’t the smartest thing to do.. but yeah. It was me.” He confessed to her, giving her a little smile as she stared at him. “And besides that, what I wanted to say it’s that… I like you, like, a lot.” he said. “A crazy amount probably, and I know you may not like me back! Knowing that I’m your sister’s most hated person in this camp besides my brother.. and Percy..” he explained

“This is disgusting! Completely disgusting!” Clarisse gagged at the scene in front of her, she has always disliked the Stoll brothers even more after the little prank they pulled on her few years ago.

“I.. I’m quite shocked, actually.” she confessed, her cheeks tinting a light red but when she was about to actually reply to him, she saw how another figure behind Clarisse and Travis took the chance of the flag being unprotected and quickly snatched it.

In the background, all could hear a horn being played in signal that the game has finished.

The result? Blue team were the winners, once again.

It turns out that, Travis’s younger brother Connor, knowing that he was going to confess his feelings towards Y/n, seized the opportunity of us being entertained by his brother’s confession to grab the flag, it was all part of his plan.

Which helped to ignite even more, the hatred Clarisse had towards the Stoll brothers.

The whole game ended up quite quickly after that, with the campers of the blue team cheering for their new victory and the red team growling at them and cursing them out.

Y/n never had the chance to talk to Travis in that moment, seeing how Chiron with other campers, took the injured ones towards the infirmary to help with the wounds.

That’s when Y/n knew it was now or never. She escaped from the celebrations of the night, walking towards the infirmary to check on the wounded Stoll brother. She walked through it, looking at some of the demigods sleeping on the beds and other being taken care by Argus and some dryads. Once he saw the familiar curly hair, she walked towards it, grabbing a pack of ice a girl was carrying towards him. “I can take it from here.” she explained to the girl as she just nodded and left.

She then walked to his bed, sitting down at the edge of it and softly pressing the ice pack on his already-bruised eye. “Who knew.. that purple eye really suits you.” she softly spoke, waking up the prankster from his nap.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he asked as he quickly sat up, groaning from the pain as he realized it wasn’t a good idea after all with his bruised ribs.

“Clarisse really did a number on you, didn’t she?” the girl said as she softly helped him to lay down once again, slowly. “I’m sorry about that, she can be easily carried away by her emotions.”

“I really can’t believe you two are sisters, you two are nothing alike.” he said, wincing as he laid down. “You’re gentle and understanding, meanwhile Clarisse would throw a punch at literally anyone who crosses her path.”

“Well, that’s because I have never really fought with you, you know? When we are in battle, that’s when we are scary alike.” she chuckled, holding the ice pack on his eye as they talked. “So.. I never really replied to what you said to me back there.”

“You don’t really have to. I know it must’ve been silly, I just couldn’t really hold it in anymore, you know? You’re so beautiful and so strong! And you love pulling pranks on people, which is so hot! And whenever you’re fighting you’ve got this beautiful frown that—”

“Could you shut up for a second?” she said quickly before a smirk appeared on her lips. “I know I’m hot and all of that, but I just really wanted to say that… I think you’re really cute.” her smirk turned into a smile at him as she looked at him, he could’ve sworn his insides were on fire, which could’ve been due to the punches he’d got but he knew it was because of her smile. “And I would like to see where this could go..”

“Wait! You’re serious, right? This is not a prank, right? Cause that wouldn’t be so hot..” He explained making her giggle. “It’s not a prank, you dummy!” she interrupted him. “I like you, like, a lot.” she smiled, saying the exact words he had said to her back in the forest.

“Oh! Wow! I— I really, don’t know what to say! Jeez, I think I’m blushing again!” Travis confessed with his cheeks flaming red as he looked at her.

“Shh, don’t talk.. Less words and more…actions.” she smirked before laying the ice pack on the bed and slowly leaning her face against his, until their lips were touched; she was careful to grab his cheek, not wanting to hurt his purple eye as he returned the soft kiss she laid on his lips.

It was all he ever dreamed, kissing her felt like drinking ambrosia, her lips tasted so sweet. His stomach felt like the excitement he would get before pulling any prank, multiplied by a hundred. He just knew that this was it. This was all he ever wished for. This was the girl of his dreams.

That was it, until a wave or realization fell over him as she softly pulled away from him. “Oh, gods! now Clarisse is so going to murder me!”

That only made her laugh even more. “Leave her to me, she’s really not that scary, I promise.” she assured him. “Now, what did I say about talking?” she asked.

“Oh! Yes, yes. Less words, more actions, got it!” he smiled mischievously as he then pressed his lips against hers once again.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. What’s the bet Connor has goin on with Pollux about?” she asked, looking at his eyes for a bit before raising his brow.

“Oh, now you shut up. I’ll explain later, I’m badly injured and I demand more kisses.” he said with the cutest little pout she has ever seen, she rolled her eyes. “It’s just some bruised ribs.. and a bruised eye.” she joked before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him again.

#percy jackson #percy jackson imagine #travis stoll #travis stoll imagine #travis stoll x reader #percy jackson x reader #imagine #fanfic #pjo imagine #pjo #connor stoll #connor stoll x reader #clarisse la rue #demigods #cabin five #camp half-blood #olympians #reader #au

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zoefandom127 · 4 years

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Hands Up With Me Pt. 3

part 3!!! show some love to this on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

"Can you please look again?"

"I'm sorry Miss but we've looked everywhere."

They'd been at the airport for at least an hour, waiting at baggage claim. Most everyone has gathered their belongings and left but Julie couldn't leave until…

"But I swear I brought it with me on the plane," Julie murmured more to herself. In reality, it shouldn't have been that serious. She was 20 years old for goodness sake. But she'd had it since forever. The old fabric and loose stitching forever etched into her mind. It's one of the only living relics her mom had given her before she passed. The thought of it being gone isn't something she could fathom.

"Miss, we haven't seen a stuffed animal in any of our ports. If we hear anything, we'll let you know." With that, the baggage handler walked away leaving Julie in a mess.

Honestly, it's just a bear. An old, worn out bear that had been in her life for a long time. She never went anywhere without, always bringing with her on tours and keeping it backstage as a good luck charm before performances. Sometimes it would almost be as if her mom was there with her.

She knew mentally that her mom would always be with her no matter what. Somewhere in her mind or heart or whatever. But emotionally, that bear was the only other thing that made her feel close to her mom besides music. Mr. Harmelody (when she was younger she stumbled over her words and accidentally combined harmony and melody, somehow the name stuck) was there all the time. And she doesn't know why but she needs it with her.

"Come on, Julie, it's getting late." Luke laid a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her reverie.

"But…" Julie looked towards the boys and they were almost falling asleep on their feet. It had been a long flight and they still needed to wake up early the next morning for their interview with Carrie. Glancing at her phone, she winced when she saw it was a quarter ‘til one am. "Yeah, okay. Sorry for making you guys wait so long."

Reggie, who had been leaning on a concrete column, slowly waking at the sound of Julie's voice being directed at him, Alex, and Luke. "No worries, Jules." He gave a tired smile and kicked Alex, jolting him awake.

"Are we at the hotel yet?" Alex yawned.

"No, but the cab's outside." Luke grabbed his suitcase and started towards the exit with the boys dragging their feet behind. Julie was lagging behind the three of them sleepily as she tried to rub away the stinging behind her eyes. It's not that serious. Everything will be alright.

...

Everything was not alright.

Luke had been sitting with Julie for hours trying to come up with lyrics but the girl was dead on her feet. Ever since she lost Mr. Harmelody (he could imagine 3-year-old Julie saying that name in all her adorable cuteness) she'd been so reserved. Her answers would be 3 words or less. And she looked so distracted lately, always looking at her phone anxiously. Like she was waiting for it to ring and tell her the best news ever.

He knew the significance of the bear, how much it connected it to her mom. But he didn't think the loss of it would affect her this much. She was barely functioning what with all the singing and touring and late nights but she did it all with a smile on her face. Now she had a blank stare and barely said a word to anyone.

Yeah, he needed to fix this.

Once Julie left, Luke pulled out his phone and went straight to his text messages, clicking on the group chat with the boys.

Luke: guys we gotta help julie

Alexander: Yeah…

Reginald: Help her with what?

Alexander: Haven't you noticed that she's been kinda…

Luke: d e p r e s s e d

Alexander: ^^^

Reginald: Oh i thought she was just thinking. I mean thats what i look like when i think too hard.

Alexander: Nah you look more constipated

Luke: ANYWAY

Luke: we need to find Mr. Harmelody

Luke: any, ideas?

Reginald: Oooooo maybe we could bribe them

Alexander: With what? Your stupidity?

Reginald: *gasp* I take that very offensive

Alexander: You should

Alexander: Calling the airport would probably be the best option

Alexander: Though I think if they found it they would've called

Luke: right but maybe we just have to be more insistent

Alexander: Oh wow Luke, broadening your vocabulary lately?

Luke: haha

Luke: instead of calling we could like go in there and demand the bear

Luke: that could work right?

Alexander: Not if we want to be carried away by airport security

Reginald: Ngl thatd be kinda fun

Luke: idk guys but we have to find it. Julie is not okay

Reginald: Awww yeah for Jules we gotta find Mr. Harmelody

Reginald: ...I still think bribing them could work

Alexander: Wait maybe we could bribe them with a concert.

Alexander: If they search, we play

Luke: yeah that could work!

Luke: i'll call flynn so she can set it up. that girl is more intimidating than our actual manager

All the details would be figured out now but for now…

"We're coming for you, Mr. Harmelody."

...

Julie was bummed.

Well to be honest, she was bummed all the time now. It had been a little over a week since Mr. Harmelody has been gone. The fact that she was this upset over a stuffed animal made her feel like a child again. She was reminded of the time she lost Mr. Harmelody when she was 9 years old. Her mom had taken her and Carlos to the town fair and her mom warned her not to bring Mr. Harmelody but at the time she was at the age where her attachment to her belongings was fierce. Julie didn't have a good grip on her bear for the dropdown ride and Mr. Harmelody went flying from her hands and through the air.

As soon as her legs were on solid ground she went running in the general direction of where the bear flew, leaving her mom and Carlos to follow behind her as tears trailed down her face. After an hour of crying and searching, Rose found Mr. Harmelody lodged underneath a vendor cart for funnel cake.

Maybe she had been a little dramatic back then, especially when she cried "my life is ruined" in her mother's embrace. But all the memories and love engraved in that bear seemed to be lost without it with her.

Just as they seemed lost right now.

Walking through the hallway of her apartment building, Julie heard voices from behind her door.

"Shhh."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she placed her ear against the door gently so as not to alert the people inside the apartment of her presence.

"Okay, I'm gonna set up the camera."

"Reg, we don't need to record this."

"Are you kidding? The fans will eat this up. A touching JATP moment, if you will."

"I will not."

Hearing enough, Julie unlocked the door and wandered in.

"Julie!" Luke yelled, surprised.

There Alex, Luke, and Reggie stood looking as suspicious as ever.

Hesitantly, Julie continued her trek inside. "Hey…" She spoke wearily.

"Did we figure out how we're gonna present it to her?" Alex asked after a brief moment of silence as Julie stared at them skeptically with her arms crossed.

"Uh no. Not really." Reggie responded, still looking at Julie with a smile on his face.

"What's going on?"

The boys looked at each other as if making a small agreement as they nodded their heads slightly. Luke had both his hands behind his back, clearly holding something. He stepped up to her and proceeded to show her Mr. Harmelody in all of his stuffed glory.

Everything was the exact same. The same worn clothes and stitches that were begging to be replaced, albeit a little dirtier than before. Julie reached a hand to touch the fluffiness of the soft bear, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"How did you…"

"Let's just say we're gonna be performing a private concert at the airport on Thursday." Luke smiled, proudly at her.

Julie barely even heard him. She quickly gathered the bear from Luke's hands and clutched tightly to her chest, closing her eyes at the familiar yet nonexistent embrace of Mr. Harmelody. She bent her legs until her knees were fully folded against her chest, pushing the bear closer against her as her arms tightened around it.

Tears streamed down her face freely and she almost didn't register the feeling of her boys kneeling around her. The proximity brought even more comfort.

"Thank you." Julie croaked out, her eyes still shut firmly.

"Anytime, Jules." Alex rubbed her back as she cried softly.

Once her cries ceased, Julie looked up with puffy eyes at each of the boys who surrounded her. "Mr. Harmelody says thank you too." She grinned brightly.

"Aw," Reggie spoke as he placed his arms around all three of them. "I can't wait to put this on Instagram."

...

The next day Julie got an Instagram notification that she was tagged in a post from Reggie. The caption read:

"JATP moments like this>>>"

Julie smiled down at her phone when she saw a picture of the four of them kneeled on the carpet floor of her apartment gathered in a warm hug. Obviously, he chose not to post the full video, wanting to keep some parts of their lives separate from their fanbase.

After taking a look through the comments, she finally decided to comment one of her own.

“Mr. Harmelody is back in commission!"

lukepatterson replied to your comment: "damn right!"

alexmercer replied to your comment: "The unofficial member of Julie and the Phantoms"

Julie grinned happily as she laid her phone on her coffee table. Mr. Harmelody may have been her source of comfort then but now? She had her boys.

hope yall enjoyed!

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #jatp fanfic #jatp family #fanfiction #jatp julie #jatp alex #jatp reggie #luke jatp

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fictional-worlds-are-exquisite · 4 years

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i am out there!! i'm glad you liked it! i'm definitely trying out the recipe you left in the tags. it sounds way better than just banana and peanut butter. i always have to pay a lot of attention when i type banana because i've ended up with "bananana" way too many times

i was planning to run straight to your askbox the second i saw you replied but then the end of the semester happened and it killed me. hopefully i'm done with it now

i do exactly the same thing with height! if you tell me your height in feet i have absolutely no idea how tall that is. if you say that in centimetres that's easy. i mean you're 155cm so that's 12cm shorter than me. when you told me that in feet i was like okay cool i have no idea how much shorter than actually is

i love birds!!! so that seems awesome! i am now titling you the queen of birds. and i'm glad your vacation was good! i think i saw a couple of posts you made about it so it definitely does seem like a lot of fun! and did you ever figure out completely what that see through animal (?) in the sand was? i had no idea stuff like that even existed so now i'm invested in knowing what it is

i am 100% hiring you for my coming out party i'm throwing in a couple of years. it's gonna be fun. if we don't get immediately kicked out i promise good food and some spicy drama between my homophobic relatives and my accepting relatives! and my brother's, who i already came out to, dry commentary

i was definitely not the one you told about burma trails! but from the tags i'm just gonna say how is that allowed and why does it seem like a weird type of torture? i hate it, i probably would've had a heart attack 3 seconds in

oh yeah i actually can't tell most of the time if the memories from my childhood are actual memories or if it's just a combination of having seen photos and heard stories about it

my glasses prescription is fine i think. my eye doctor said that i get headaches from glasses because... well i tried to explain this and then deleted it all because it was a very scientific explanation when she said it and i zoned out pretty much halfway through and even the part that i did understand i can't translate to english! but it has something to do with the fact that with contacts it's enough to move my eyes in the direction i want to look at and with glasses i have to move my whole head and my brain got so used to contacts that it overdoes it with the eye movements when wearing glasses? i dunno. this is the best i can do in explaining it

i must admit i'm very jealous of the never snows part because while snow is pretty to look at it's absolutely freezing! for the past week i slept under a duvet, three blankets while wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt and i still woke up cold. because for a couple of nights it was around -22°C. it's great

ohhh you got pretty lucky as a kid then! my kid self would have absolutely lost it at getting the equivalent of 5/10 bucks. i probably would have bought so much candy

excellent!!! hope you’re enjoying the vague void from whence you came! i’ve never said whence before in my LIFE i wonder if i used it correctly. anyway. the actual recipe was way more specific but once i saw ‘2 frozen bananas’ and looked at all the sliced bananas in my fridge, having no idea how many there were, i just started improvising sdfkhsdfs. I’d be interested to try it with yoghurt though if I can get some dairy free plain stuff, I’m sure I can somewhere. Banana used to be my biggest problem when I was younger. Then I learnt words like occasion and necessary and embarrassed and I realised the more english I tried to learn, the worse my life was gonna get. And I was right. On the bright side, developing an inability to ever spell occasion correctly made banana seem a lot easier to handle.

that is fair. end of semesters are rough. i cannot function during them at all. i hope everything chills out for you!! i’m not sure how the school year is over there but maybe it’s break time? that’d be nice. but rest in peace anyway, enjoy being dead! they say necromancy is frowned upon in all societies but I reckon it’s just called making a friend when you’re dead so maybe you wanna take that up as a hobby! I’ve heard it’s nice this time of year!

yup! sometimes I’m like oh you’re 5 foot 4? that sounds way taller than me. but it...it really isn’t...it’s like an extra 8cm or something. which adds up! but in my head I was picturing a MUCH taller height. In my head I think I picture 6 foot and 5 foot 4 as the same height, now that I think about it.

!!!!! my first order as queen of birds is to meet a morepork face to face so we can chat about the price of pork these days. yes!! the first half was nice but the second half was really fun. my best guess is still that it’s a salp? Maybe? So many salp pictures are massive groups of them but like,, from what i can tell of singular photos,,, it was maybe that? I guess the only other possibility is it’s just some clear jellyfish but salp does seem more likely. At first I was like oh duuude boob implant for the ocean!! but then I realised it actually seemed kinda alive and was probably an actual creature. my bad.

excellent. i’ll break any tension by dropping the vampire act for the mouse act. will do backflips for cheese. will bite ankles for homophobic comments. Will pull a knife out of god knows where, not to threaten anyone, just to clean my nails with to make everyone nervous. I offer many services. I’m flexible. And I love me some good food.

I actually DON’T know the reason behind burma trails. I really don’t. The reason ‘it’s a fun activity!’ seems a little fake. if it’s a fun activity then why did Mrs. G. tell us a horror story about the forest before we went out to navigate said forest at night, blindfolded, surrounded by wildlife and parents supervising (*cough* waiting for the opportunity to jump out at you *cough*) with a teacher at the end waiting to scare us. So we can learn how to navigate the forest in the dark? So we learn how to follow a mysterious rope INTO the forest at night? seems dodgy to me. school camps be like [drives you out to forest] follow this rope and don’t take your blindfold off. like. bruh. i almost DID have a heart attack one time, I got stuck like something was holding my leg. First thought-ah, must’ve got my leg stuck in a big stick. Second thought-maybe this is one of the parents fucking around, it feels more like a grip than a twig. Third thought-I cannot get my leg free no matter what I do what the fuck is HAPPENING so I started crying out for help. When they FINALLY came they found nothing my leg was caught on so that was fun. love that for me. I was able to move as soon as they arrived. That’s not weird at all. anyway.

I think most of my early memories are just from stories I’ve been told and photos I’ve seen. My memory tends to be horrible I highly doubt I remember that one time I was eating dirt from the garden out in the yard gleefully. I just saw the photo evidence. mm spaghetti. bone apple teeth. my character hasn’t changed at all since I was a wee babe.

ohhhh okay. I think I get what you mean by that. Thank you for trying to explain! That’s really interesting. I guess I do move my head a lot with glasses. Although I have massive glasses so it’s probably easier for me to just move my eyes where I want. I reckon with smaller glasses I’d have to move my head way more.

the temperature comment is so funny because during the heart of winter i tend to sleep with a sheet, a blanket, a duvet, then 2-4 blankets on top while in a long sleeve shirt and long pants and sometimes bed socks and often a hottie (i’ve never realised how that sounds out of context...a hot water bottle...is calling it a hottie normal or is a my family thing? is this a nz thing? now i’m questioning myself). in my uni accommodation last year we didn’t have proper heating during most of winter and well. there was a quilt added to everything else. every blanket i could find. how cold does it get here in winter? rarely ever past 0 degrees celsius. I would literally die in your position, clearly. I could not survive that. Props to you for making it through aha.

yesss. Before when I found five dollar notes it’d be on the street and I’d be like oh no! Mum we have to hand this into the police station! It’s a lot of money, someone will be looking for it! Understandably she was like,, lindsey they might miss it but there’s not really any way you can find them,,, I still refused to spend it. That was like my first time really getting that much money for myself. The dairy on main street sold lollies for 10 cents each and they had like, 30 different lil glass boxes so you’d go I want 3 of 26, 5 of 7, ohhh and 5 of 13 please! I dunno if they’re still 10 cents each but I thought it was the best thing ever as a kid. I think I wanted to save the money though sfdjsdkfhs put it in my piggy bank to save up for something ‘super cool’. Aka probably like a neat soft toy to sleep with sdfsdkfs.

#Anonymous #i wrote the majority of this reason like a couple hours after you sent it #then i went to bed because it was late. thinking to myself. oh i'll finish the last bit in the morning!#but of course in the morning the lil 1 didn't show up above mail and it was located in my drafts now so my dumb ass was like ah yes #absolutely nothing to respond to here!#i should know by now i never remember if i save things to drafts sfjshkdfhsdf #anyway #i REMEMBERED. a few days late. BUT i didn't just forget entirely so! there's that!#now i'll finish the last bit of the response and edit the incomprehensible tired mumbling parts #although i'm currently overheating so now it'll be incomprehensible overheated brain parts! fun!#no i cannot handle cold temperatures no i cannot handle 'hot' temperatures i can handle like a one to two degree range #and nothing else. life is. a trip.#I still don't know what to call dairy's when talking to people outside nz #corner store? they're not always on corners. convenience store? maybe. small shop? idk dude #i don't quite know the correct thing to equate them to.#but they sell lollies sometimes. that's the main point here sdkjhskdf #now to decide what I'm doing tonight #play stardew valley. watch someone else play stardew valley on youtube. stare at my ceiling thinking about stardew valley. do the dishes #earlier today i was like maybe...maybe i'll watch a movie...add some variety to my life...#i wanted to rewatch whatever movie has that song that is like agggooonnnyyyyyy #that's the only word i remember from the song. so it's that. or...well...back to my obsession

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darks-ink · 4 years

Text

Absurdism Chapter 14

You ever discover that your half-ghost mentor was a complete disaster all along? also look i finally added first/previous/next chapter links hooray

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

Chapter 14: Pirate Radio

“You’re the worst little sister in the history of little sisters,” Danny grumbled without heat. He moved, slumping further into the cushions of the couch.

Jazz snorted. “I can’t possibly be that bad.”

“No, you are.” He somehow buried himself even further. “I bet no one else has to worry about their little sister finding and befriending an alternate universe of themselves, the older sibling.”

“That’s just an inherent risk of being a Fenton, Danny,” Jazz pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him even if he couldn’t see it. “You’ll have to blame our parents for that, not me.”

“Counter-argument. The befriending part is definitely a you thing.”

She blew a raspberry at him. “Like you wouldn’t have made friendly with an alternate universe version of me, given the chance.”

Danny hummed. “Not if she was as annoying as you.”

“Rude.” She reached over to swat at his shoulder. “I’m stronger than you, you know?”

He made a derisive noise.

“You suck,” she told him, sitting down properly again. “I’m leaving.”

Just as she shifted to the edge of the couch, however, their parents appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey kids,” her dad boomed, pushing his way in first. “We have talk to you two.”

Jazz’ core whirred nervously. Uh oh. That didn’t sound good.

Her mom stepped in after Dad, holding… oh no, was that the Ghost Finder? Shoot, she didn’t realize that they had built another one.

“Jack,” Maddie said, softly, holding up the invention. He leaned over to look on the screen and frowned.

Danny, next to her, had pushed himself into a sitting position again. He nudged her, gently, in a rather sad attempt at comfort.

It helped, though.

“Huh.” Jack turned to frown at her and Danny, but he was clearly still looking at the Finder from his peripherals. “That’s strange.”

Maddie clicked her tongue, then nodded. She lowered the invention again, and looked at Jazz and Danny directly. “What we wanted to talk about, kids, were the events of a few days ago.”

“That weird ghost sickness slash contamination thing?” Danny asked, his confusion not sounding quite genuine enough. “Why? What about it?”

“It… opened our eyes, I suppose you could say.” Her mom moved, perching on the arm of the armchair in front of her and Danny. “For years, we believed that humans and ghosts were entirely separate entities. Even if a human could become a ghost, it was a binary process. You were either fully human, or fully ghost. Those two states couldn’t be blended, not in the least. Or so we thought.”

“But those kids at the school, they all had ghost-like powers because of their contamination,” Jack continued. “But they hadn’t gone through the entire process, hadn’t made the full transition to a ghost. Which made us realize… If they could be humans with ghost-like abilities, caused by some sort of ectoplasmic contamination… Anyone else could be, too.”

“And I don’t think anyone could deny the similarities between Phantom and Specter and our children,” Maddie finished off. “In hindsight, it was glaringly obvious. Only…”

Jazz huffed out a laugh. “But only one of us shows up on the scanner, huh?”

“It makes no sense!” Jack blurted out, waving a hand at the invention. “By that logic, I could imagine that Specter’s core is too young, not mature enough, to show up, assuming it gets muted by her… human form? But, no, it’s Danny who appears fully human! Only minor ecto-contamination.”

“Which is obviously the fault of him not wearing proper protection when in the lab, young man,” Maddie chided.

Danny made a face. “Everything in this house is contaminated anyway. What’s the point of protecting yourself in the lab if the kitchen is almost as bad? Never mind all the food.”

Jazz swatted at him. “Danny, can we please focus on the serious conversation?” She turned to their parents. “Look, it’s… complicated.”

“God, did he train you to use that as an answer or do you two just spend that much time together?” Danny complained, pushing her with his shoulder. To their parents, he said, “Your scanner is right, I’m no more ghostly than you two. Jazz has a core, but she’s more human than ghost, I think. She defaults back to human when she falls asleep, anyway.”

“It’s his go-to answer for everything,” she explained with a roll of her eyes. “But, yes. I’m half-ghost. I think that it’s a pretty even balance, but, well. While human—alive—is my standard state of being, my core never goes away entirely. It gets… what did you call it, muted? I guess that that’s a good word for it. It’s weaker in human form, which makes it harder to use my powers, but it’s not impossible. I’m always a little ghostly in human form, and a little human in ghost form.”

Maddie nodded, slowly, her brow creased in thought. “So then… who is Phantom? He looks…” She trailed off, looking at Danny.

“Yeah, it’s complicated.” Jazz bit her lip, looking between her three family members. The conversation seemed to be going alright, but… having someone with more experience with this present would be a help. A comfort, if nothing else. “I can go get him? He can probably explain it better than I can.”

Her parents frowned, but nodded their permission anyway. Jazz stood up, then hesitated.

“I, uh. Do you mind if I shift into my ghost form here, or should I leave first?”

They shared a look—more like a silent conversation—before Maddie licked her lips and said, carefully, “No, go ahead. It would be… good. To see, I mean.”

“Right.” Jazz nodded back, then tugged on her core, ignoring her racing heartbeat. The transformation washed over her in a brief flash of light, and she grinned at her parents, unsure. “Tah-dah?”

“Wow,” Jack breathed. Both of them were clearly stunned. “Years of research disproven, just like that.”

She hesitated, and Maddie must’ve realized why, because she waved a hand. “Go find Phantom, honey. We just… It’s one thing to know, and another to see.”

Of course. She knew that, didn’t she? That was why she was so thrown off whenever she saw Phantom in his human form.

“Yeah,” she said, letting herself float a little. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Jazz turned herself invisible—ignoring their startled noises—and phased out of FentonWorks. Look, she had nothing to hide to them, but it would be suspicious if people saw her!

Luckily Phantom hadn’t left for patrol yet, lounging on a nearby rooftop. He jerked upright when he saw Jazz, immediately shifting into his ghost form. “Jazz?”

“Hey, so, uh.” Suddenly she felt a little silly. Surely she and Danny could’ve handled this alone? But she was here now, and her parents wanted to see Phantom, so… “Um. My parents figured out my secret? Apparently they had another ghost scanner, but now they’re confused because their son is human, and they wanted to know who Phantom was? Could you, uh, come along?”

Phantom’s expression had grown increasingly uncomfortable as she spoke, but he still nodded after she finished talking. “Yeah, sure. How did they… react?”

“It was…” She considered it. “Not that bad, I guess? But maybe they haven’t quite processed it yet. I figured they would be okay with it, anyway, so it’s not that surprising.”

“If you thought they would accept you, why…” He paused, dusting off his jumpsuit rather pointlessly. Stalling for time, she figured. “Why didn’t you tell them sooner?”

She shrugged. “I wanted them to change their minds about ghosts. Specter, and later Phantom, were the easiest examples of ghosts doing good, and I thought that they would blame everything on us being part human if they knew.”

“That… makes sense.” He sighed, combing a hand through his hair. “Well, let’s go, then.”

The two of them flew back to FentonWorks, not turning invisible now. They phased through the front wall, directly into the living room, drawing the attention of the three people still present there.

Jazz landed in front of the couch, shifting back to her human form. Phantom kept his distance, however, and looked rather uncomfortable.

“You’re half-ghost too?” Jack guessed, gesturing at the Ghost Finder that Maddie still held. “The Finder suddenly started picking up your core, like something had been muting it but stopped.”

Phantom nodded, hesitantly. “I am.”

Maddie was staring at him with narrowed eyes. “But you look and sound almost exactly like Danny. I can’t imagine that there’s anybody in Amity that looks so similar to my son.”

That made Phantom shuffle even more uncertainly.

“Phantom,” Danny said, still on the couch. “Just tell them, man. Shift back.”

The half-ghost made a face, but did as asked. Light flashed, the ring of energy passing over him, and he thudded back onto the ground. Jazz was glad to see that Phantom had borrowed some of Danny’s clothes, so he didn’t look quite as ragged anymore.

Phantom grinned at Jack and Maddie, and, man. Jazz could feel the awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“Tah-dah?” he offered, opening his arms as if he were showing off an outfit.

“Jazz already did that,” Danny commented from behind her, and she kicked him in the shin. “Ow, Jazz, jeez. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Jack made a noise that not even Jazz could decipher, then said, “So. Complicated, huh?”

“I am so tired of that word,” Danny muttered, and Jazz kicked him again. “Ah! Are you taking lessons from Sam or something?!”

Phantom snorted, then immediately straightened out, having drawn everyone’s attention back to him.

Jazz waited for him to speak up, but after a few moments of silence, cleared her throat. “So… You want to explain your complicated situation, Phantom?”

“I, uh. Yeah. Right.” He shuffled his feet, looking wildly uncomfortable. Seriously, it was a little weird, but it couldn’t be that much worse than when he told his secret to his own parents, right?

Unless… he had never told his secret to his own parents?

But that would be crazy, right?

“So, I’m, um.” Phantom ran a hand through his hair, running it all the way over his head until it ended up in his neck. “I’m… Danny Fenton. From another universe.”

“Apparently he’s the younger sibling and half-ghost,” Danny added when Phantom stopped talking. “He had photos with himself and his own Jazz, and she was like, eighteen.”

“But how did he—” Maddie paused, turned back to Phantom. “How did you get here?”

Phantom shrugged, uncomfortable now that the attention was on him again. “I, um. Natural portals form in the Ghost Zone all the time, but they don’t just connect to the regular human world. They can go to any place and any time on Earth, and, apparently, to different universes as well. I accidentally flew through one and… I thought I was back in Amity, so I didn’t try to go back.”

“And portals are too finicky to reliably travel back through,” Jack realized, snapping his fingers. “That’s why you stuck around! But I don’t understand… Wasn’t your home… don’t you miss it? Wouldn’t you want to go back?”

“Of course I want to go back!” Phantom snapped, suddenly, his eyes flaring green. “I want nothing more than to go home! But there’s no point in risking life and limb by diving through portal after portal, hoping to find it! If I just stay in one place, they will find me! I just…” The green faded away, his voice petering off into near-silence. “I just have to wait. They’ll come.”

“Because Sam and Tucker and your Jazz are looking, right?” Jazz asked, softly. “What about your parents? Wouldn’t they go looking for you?”

“I…” Phantom jerked his head. “Of course they’ll be looking for me! Just not—”

“They don’t know,” Danny said. “You never told them your secret. That’s why you were so hesitant to tell me what was going on, and why you’re acting weird now. You’re helping Jazz tell her parents, when you never told yours.”

Phantom made a face but nodded.

“But you. You’ve had your ghost powers for two and a half years!” It felt like her core had frozen in her chest. How had he gone so long without telling his parents? Had they held off on changing their minds for so long? Or…

Or was he genuinely scared that they might hurt him? That they would hate him for being half-ghost?

“Yeah, well.” Phantom shrugged, weakly. “My only comparison is the guy who’s gone twenty-two years without telling anyone about his powers, so.”

“We both know he’s a terrible example in every way,” Jazz scolded. “Seriously, Phantom… Danny. You could’ve told me. You didn’t have to come.”

“It’s… fine.” He looked up again, eyes wandering to Jack and Maddie. “I… I probably should’ve told mine ages ago. I’m glad you didn’t… didn’t.”

She huffed out a breath, scrambling over the couch to get closer to him. “That’s what you’re doing the whole time, isn’t it? You’re not just telling me what I’m dealing with, but you’re specifically aiming to have me avoid making the same mistakes you made.”

Jazz wrapped her arms around him, and, after a moment of stiffness, Phantom hugged her back. “Wouldn’t you?” he asked her, head pressed in her hair. “If you saw your sibling, so young and innocent, before they had made any of your mistakes. Wouldn’t you stop them, too?”

“You never said anything,” she told his shoulder. “I had no idea how bad it was, Danny. You should’ve told me! You’re not alone, not here.”

“I’m never alone.” He sniffled, but she didn’t comment. “I have Sam, and Tucker. And my own Jazz. I have Wulf, sometimes when I can find him, and Frostbite. Clockwork, even, if it’s really important.”

A warm bulk reached over Jazz to clap Phantom on his shoulder. She wrenched an eye upwards, meeting her dad’s eye. “Danny, kiddo. I don’t know your parents, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that family is the most important to us Fentons.” The other hand landed on Jazz’ shoulder. “Part ghost or not. My kids are my kids, and I love them with all my heart.”

“I… I know,” Phantom murmured back, keeping his head turned down. “But it’s just… hard. To hear them speak so badly of ghosts, of Phantom, and know. Know that that’s me they’re talking about. Even if I know, rationally, that they wouldn’t feel that way if they knew it was me.”

“Is that why you never told us, Jazz?” Maddie asked, laying a warm hand on Jazz’ other shoulder. “Because you were so scared?”

She shrugged, only a little so she wouldn’t throw off the comforting hands. “I… No, of course not! I wanted— wanted you two to change your opinions on ghosts, first, because it would be easier! Not because I was…” It felt like her throat was clogged up. She sniffled. “Yeah… Yeah, a little bit, I think. I just didn’t want to…”

“You didn’t want to admit that that was why,” Phantom finished for her. She couldn’t see his expression from where she was pressed against him, but he sounded like he was tearing up. “So you reasoned around it. Because you couldn’t be scared of your parents, not really! They didn’t mean it like that! But you were. Scared, that is.”

“Oh, honey,” her mom said, and suddenly another warm body pressed against her. Maddie’s arms wrapped around her, and by extension, around Phantom. “Oh, I’m so sorry that we made you feel that way. That you felt like you couldn’t tell us even some of this, that we were so set in our ways that you had to hide all of that. And that…”

Maddie’s hair brushed against Jazz’ cheek, as Maddie turned to look at Phantom. “And that it was so bad that, if we hadn’t figured it out ourselves, we wouldn’t have known for another two years, at least. That you would’ve been forced to hide yourself—yourselves—from us for so long.”

Then, suddenly, their hug collapsed. Jazz teetered for a moment, before she was drawn against her mom. She blinked in surprise, then realized what had happened.

Phantom stood several steps away. He must’ve turned himself intangible to escape from the hug.

“I’m glad you’re all talking this out okay,” he said, his posture stiff but his voice wavering. “But I… I’d better get going. This isn’t… my place.” He nodded at Danny, who uncertainly stood in front of the couch. “I. Yeah. Later.”

“Wait, Phantom!” Jazz shrugged off her mom’s arm, stepping closer to Phantom again. “Will you… Are we still meeting for training? Maybe not tomorrow, but… next week?”

He hesitated, visibly, before nodding. “Yeah, I… of course. I’ll…” He grinned, clearly fake. “I’ll check your homework then, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.” She wanted to stop him, wanted to help him, make him feel better, but… her own parents came first. He understood that, right? He would’ve done the same, had their roles been reversed.

Still, her core wavered in her chest, upset, and her heart felt like a clump of ice.

“I’m sorry we upset him,” Maddie said, tugging on Jazz’ arm again. “We didn’t mean to, Jazz. Upset either of you.”

“I know.” She wiped a hand over her eyes, shocked to find them wet. “I always knew that you cared, Mom, Dad. That my fear wasn’t… wasn’t rational. And Phantom is… He’s been upset for a long time, I think.”

“He misses his home,” Danny added, finally speaking up again. “When I talked to him with Sam and Tucker, he could barely look at them. He’s been here for months, waiting for them to find him.”

Jack’s arm wrapped around her shoulders again. “He’s worried that they might never find him,” he concluded. “That he’ll be forced to stay in world where he can’t see any of his loved ones ever again. That sounds like a Fenton’s worst nightmare.”

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed, leaning back against her dad’s massive bulk. “I can’t imagine… And his parents don’t even know… Can’t imagine why he disappeared like that.”

“At least we’ll know.” Maddie’s arm snaked around Jazz’ shoulders too, joining Jack’s. “If you ever disappear… God. It could’ve happened to us.” Her eyes were watering, too. “It’s been months since Specter’s first appearance, and we only discovered by coincidence. We could’ve… It could’ve been years before we changed our minds enough for you to tell us on your own.”

“If ever,” Jack mumbled, grimly. “If we ever got evidence convincing enough to break us from years of bias.”

Jazz just pressed closer. She wasn’t sure if her parents ever would’ve changed enough for her to feel confident about telling them, no matter what she said.

Somewhere, she was glad that they had found out on their own. She might’ve put it off forever, otherwise.

---

“Jazz,” Phantom said, grinning at her when she touched down in their clearing. “It’s been a while. How have things been?”

“They’re…” Rough. Her parents are struggling, it’s a lot to wrap their minds around. They’re trying but it’s hard. “Fine. Things have been fine.”

He nodded, already turning around. “Good. I’m… glad to hear so.”

Ah, so they were not going to talk about the other thing. Well. She supposed she could give him that much, at least.

“Weren’t you going to check my homework?” she asked, lightly.

Phantom paused. Turned back around. “Did you do it, then?”

“It was homework, Phantom. What do you think?”

His lips quirked up in a smile. It felt genuine, this time. “Should’ve figured. The trick to training you was homework all along.”

“I thought it was fine before now, too.” She shook her head, but smiled. “Anyway, you wanted me to test for elements I felt connected to. Now what?”

“Uh uh uh,” Phantom said, waving a finger. “First you have to give me your homework. So, tell me. Any elements you felt positive—or negative—about?”

“Well, I dunno. I didn’t feel a very strong connection to anything, to be honest,” she admitted, ignoring the way her core clenched. It wasn’t a personal failure, she was sure of that, but it still felt that way. “But… I think electricity was… okay? Better than the other stuff?”

He nodded, and she felt her core relax a little. “You haven’t been exposed to a lot of elemental ectoplasmic attacks, so your core might’ve prioritized learning neutral abilities over elements. Electricity makes sense, though. It was my first one, too, and it’s useful for a variety of purposes.”

Good. She liked the sound of that. “Okay, so, again. Now what?”

“We need to nudge your core into developing affinity for that element.” Phantom paused, then made a face at her. “This is going to sound really bad, but we’ll need to expose you to the element in question to do that.”

“What, like… like electrocuting me?”

“Not that rough, but…” He shrugged. “Kinda, yeah. Low voltage, closer to a static charge than something that would really hurt you.”

She grimaced. “Then why didn’t I develop an affinity for electricity sooner? I get static shocks constantly!”

“Needs to be ectoplasmic electricity,” Phantom explained with another shrug. “I got hit by Plasmius’ electric attacks all the time, and some other ghosts used them too. Technus, for example, or Walker’s right-hand man.”

He waved her over and, reluctantly, she joined him. “I’ll tell you right now, I don’t like this.”

“We can… not do it, you know?” Phantom laid his hands on her shoulders, lowering his head so he could meet her gaze. “Seriously, Jazz, it’s no big deal. You don’t need elemental attacks. If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna force you into anything.”

She sighed, wrapping one of her hands around Phantom’s. “I know, Phantom. It’s… Well, not fine, but it’s okay. I’d rather do this with someone I trust than get shocked by an enemy until I develop this power.”

Phantom remained silent for a moment, before asking, quietly, “You trust me?”

“Oh, Danny.” She pressed her head against his shoulder, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders. “Even if you’re not my brother, you’re still my family. You’ve been taking care of me for months, protecting me and making sure I would be fine even when you left. Of course I trust you.”

He drew his arms in closer, until they were wrapped around her neck instead of settled on her shoulder. Buried his head in her hair again. “If,” he said quietly. “If I ever leave.”

“Don’t say that,” she chastised, awkwardly patting him on the back. “Of course they’ll find you, and bring you back to your universe, and everything will be fine! You can tell your parents and they’ll accept you, too, and you’ll be okay. Maybe… Maybe the time is weird! That’s a thing, right, with the portals? Maybe your universe is just going way slower than mine, and your friends are looking for you, but it just hasn’t been that long yet!”

“Heh.” Phantom’s breath whistled through her hair, mussing it up. “You know… I hadn’t even considered that option yet.”

“Well, that’s what you have me for, right?” She turned her head to grin up at him. “I’m the smart sibling, after all.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, drawing away from her a little. “Yeah, I guess you are. Now come on, smarty-pants, you’re not getting out of training that easy.”

Phantom moved a full step back, until the only contact they had left were their linked hands. Then he lifted his free hand, offering it back to her.

Jazz bit her lip, then took the hand. “We’re making a loop? For the current to run through?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tightening his grip comfortingly. “Tell me if this feels weird, okay?”

“Okay.” A tingling feeling started running down her arms, buzzing, hot and cold simultaneously. It danced through her veins, down her arms and into her chest and, oh. Her core whirred, like it was soaking up the energy. “Is it… My core is absorbing it, I think? Is that… bad?”

“It’s fine,” Phantom assured her. “That’s confirmation of an elemental affinity, by the way. Your core is accepting it, and processing it. We’ll keep to this level of power, give it the time to figure it out.”

She nodded, trying to focus on the energy running through her. On her core, soaking up all the power that Phantom was offering it.

“Say,” Phantom said, after a long moment of silence, “have you ever thought about getting a logo of your own?”

“A… logo?” She quirked a brow at him. “What, for my jumpsuit? Like yours?”

“Yeah!” He nodded towards his chest, like she could’ve missed the vivid white logo. “It’s kind of a superhero staple, you know.”

Jazz snorted. “No thanks.”

“Why not?” he prodded, shaking their arms. “We’ve got a while, anyway. Might as well talk through it, right?”

“If you insist. First of all, it’s tacky. Just not my sort of thing. And second of all…” She kicked him in the foot, gently. “I’m not a hero, Danny, just trying to help.”

“Looks like a hero from where I’m standing.” He jumped when she tried kicking him again, legs merging into a whispy tail. “From where I’m floating,” he corrected, childishly.

Jazz rolled her eyes. Secretly, she was glad to see him bantering, though. Even if it was just a cover for his homesickness… it served a distraction, at least. “Who’s the older sibling here?”

“Technically neither of us is,” he pointed out. “Even if I’m older than you, I spent almost my whole life being the annoying younger brother.”

“You make a good older brother, though.” She stiffened slightly as she realized she said that out loud. Ah, no, too sappy! “You’re a lot like Dad.”

Phantom raised a questioning eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You’re protective, you value your family—both blood and from friendship—above everything else,” she grinned, a little impishly, “you’re very interested in ghosts and ghost hunting…”

He flushed green, opening his mouth to counter, so she went for the final push.

“And you seem pretty obsessed with logos.” She outright smirked at him. “Pretty sure the next step is using your face as one.”

“Oh my god, Jazz, no.” Phantom threw his head back, groaning loudly. “That’s horrible. You’re horrible.”

“You started it,” she countered, childishly jiggling their arms. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Terrible. You’re terrible.” He swiveled his head back around, his green eyes sparkling. “How’s your core feeling?”

She stuck out her tongue. “That was a terrible topic change and you know it.” Still, that was why they were meeting, she supposed. “It’s feeling… full? Full-er?”

“More powerful?”

“Uh.” She prodded it, mentally. “No, not really? More… zappy? More zappy than usual, kinda staticky, and more full. Kinda… heavy? But not powerful.”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Alright. I’m cutting off the power. Let’s see if we can get some electricity out of you yet.”

“Sure,” she said as the static down her arms stopped. She unlinked her arms, then twitched her fingers. Felt like they were having after-buzzes. “How?”

“How do all your ghost powers work?” he asked scathingly, but with no real heat. “Thought you were the smart sibling?”

“Mh.” She tried to recall the static feeling. Prodded her core into replicating that. “Wait, I think…”

Gold sparked between her fingers. Brief flashes of lightning jumped from one finger to another. “Oh, look! I did it!”

“That’s a pretty good start, yeah.” Phantom grinned at her when she looked at him. “Good job. Your parents would be proud.”

Well, there went the mood again. The electricity sparking between her fingers faded, her core making a soft hum, almost like it was sad.

“Yeah,” she said, like Phantom could’ve possible missed the mood drop. “I… Speaking of them, though…” She trailed off, then remained silent.

“What about them?” he asked, frowning. “They didn’t—”

“They didn’t do anything!” she assured him, quickly. “Not like that! It’s just. Everyone’s been kind of obsessed with this adult music channel lately, and that’s… fine, whatever, you know, but. Mom and Dad have been listening to it a lot, too, saying it relaxes them. But they wouldn’t need relaxing if it weren’t for— for this!”

Phantom blew out a noisy breath, shaking his head. “Jazz… You can’t blame yourself for the accident, or for your parents finding out. Yeah, maybe they’re a little stressed, but… but they would probably be, anyway, even if you’d told them from the start. It’s not your fault, okay?

“Besides,” he added, and he was suddenly next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “They got into something similar in my universe. Practically every adult in Amity was obsessing over that music. And that was even though my parents didn’t know my secret. So it’s fine, yeah?”

That… wasn’t quite as comforting as Phantom had intended it, probably. She sighed. “I guess. What made them stop?”

“I, uh.” He paused, drawing back. Frowned in thought. “Um. No— hold on.”

“Holding on,” she snipped back.

“Got it! Oh, shit, whoops.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so, don’t freak out, but it was totally a ghost thing. And I don’t know where to find those guys until they make their move, so…”

“Oh my god, Danny!” She threw out her hands. “That’s the opposite of comforting! What does that even mean, their move?!”

He grimaced. “They might… try to kidnap every adult in the city. No, scratch that, they totally did kidnap every adult in the city. Everyone who listened to their music.”

“Danny!” She clenched her fists, her core whirring angrily, her glow flickering wildly. “I’m not gonna— I’m going home right now. And I’m not leaving until I’m sure it’s taken care of!”

“Yeah, of course.” Phantom nodded quickly. “Go ahead, Jazz. I’ll meet you when Youngblood and Ember show up.”

---

Jazz stood on the landing at the top of the stairs, staring down at the roiling mass of students in her house. It felt like a block of ice sat in her chest, her core angrily buzzing beneath it.

“Jazz,” Valerie said, nudging her. “Come on, glaring at these guys won’t make you feel any better. Can’t we wait for your brother somewhere quieter?”

“No. I already looked at the ship, and they’ve got a ghost shield. Phantom and I can’t approach until someone turns it off.” Valerie quirked an eyebrow at her, and Jazz rolled her eyes. “Val, no offense, but you can’t possibly do that alone. It’s loaded with ghost pirates, and there are at least two high-powered ghosts on there.”

Valerie sighed. “That’s fair, I guess. So now what?”

Jazz turned her eyes back towards their classmates, partying below them.

“Jazz, whatever you’re thinking, no.” Valerie nudged her. “Seriously, you can’t plan to involve those guys again. Last time they were already in danger, and they had ghost powers.”

“They’re already involved,” she pointed out. “Their parents are gone, too. We just need to convince them to help us. There’s enough ghost hunting gear in FentonWorks to arm all of them, and they don’t need to be good, just good enough. If they can distract the ghosts, you can sneak by to disarm the shield.”

Valerie gave her a flat look. “Why the ‘we’? If you convince them, you’ll need to come with, and if you can pass through the ghost shield with them, you and Danny can do it with me, too.”

“I don’t know, Val. It’s a lot of ghosts.” She sighed. “And we need to turn off the shield, or Phantom and I can’t leave. If we can get more people there, it would help a ton.”

“But there’s no way the two of us can convince our class to help us hunt ghosts,” Valerie pointed out harshly. “Seriously, Jazz. Be realistic. We’re both uncool outcasts with a ghost problem. They’re not gonna listen to us.”

“Yeah, but—” A screech of static broke through the music, then stopped. The music didn’t pick back up.

Jazz leaned down over the railing, and spotted Danny standing at the front of the crowd, Sam and Tucker on either side of him. Tucker was holding a PDA, a cable running from it to the speakers behind them. Of course, he must’ve turned off the music for them, drawing the attention to the three of them.

“Hey people!” Danny raised a hand in greeting, his voice loud enough to carry through the sudden silence. “I know you’re all here to party, but I’m afraid we have a bit of a situation! As you all know, just about every adult in Amity Park got kidnapped by ghosts, including pretty much everybody’s parents!”

He looked through the room meaningfully, letting it sink in for a moment, before he continued. “Now, you might all think, so what? Specter and Phantom will solve it, just like every other ghost problem, won’t they? Or maybe that human ghost hunter on the hoverboard? Well, I’m sorry to say that it won’t be that easy.”

“How do you know?” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Glad you asked! I know because I actually looked at the fucking ship where they’re holding our folks, and guess what? It’s got a ghost shield around it! So Phantom and Specter, even if they come to help, won’t be able to! And, as much as I might be inclined to trust in the human hunter, she’s just one person. There’s a small army of weak grunt ghosts on that ship, and at least two higher powered ones, one of which has previously invaded our town, and which required the teamwork of Phantom, Specter, and the human hunter. Now, as much as you’re enjoying this time without your parents, are you really content to rely on other people to fix this for you?”

Danny paused, eyes slowly moving over the crowd. “Do you really feel good, partying here, knowing that your parents are working themselves to the bone up there, forced by ghosts? Knowing that the only people that might help are two ghosts that can’t actually go there, and a single human hunter? Hm?”

He shook his head, then gestured to Sam and Tucker besides him. “Now, I don’t know about any of you. Obviously, since I’m older. But I do know myself, and I know Sam and Tucker. And I know that none of us could live with the guilt, if we spent however long having fun down here, just to discover that our parents died because Amity’s protectors got outplayed. So I’ll ask all of you one thing. If your parents didn’t survive this, could you live with the knowledge that you could’ve helped, but didn’t?”

With his speech finished, Danny stepped back again, Sam and Tucker moving in sync. He turned around, the three of them moving to the edge of the room. Behind them, noise slowly starting coming in again; murmurs of the crowd as they talked. The music stayed silent.

“Damn,” Valerie whistled. “Didn’t know your brother was such a good motivational speaker, Jazz.”

“Yeah,” she said, thinking back to Phantom. To the way he must’ve convinced countless enemies to help him, those times he needed backup he didn’t have. Doing all the things she’d done with basically no information. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

“Wow, that was almost a compliment,” Danny commented, coming up the stairs. Jazz started—when had he gotten there?

“You stole my idea, though.” She swatted at him. “And that’s rude.”

“It’s better this way. Besides, I had a better shot at convincing them.”

She huffed. “What, because you’re such a brilliant speaker?”

“Because I’m older, Jazz.” He rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his face. “For kids like these, older teens are automatically cooler. You two might be all the way at the bottom of the popularity ladder, but Sam, Tucker, and I are high up, just because of our age. Doesn’t matter that we’re not popular among our own classmates.”

“Well, whatever.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter, I guess, because I’m coming anyway.”

Valerie grabbed her arm. “No you’re not. Don’t be crazy.”

“Val, I—”

“Jazz. You are not coming,” Valerie repeated, shaking her arm. Jazz frowned at the weird emphasis.

“I wholeheartedly agree, Jazz,” Danny said from her other side. “I don’t want you to come.”

Jazz grumbled, slumping on the landing’s railing. “You two suck.”

“We also both know, huh?” Danny sighed, then leaned on the railing beside her. “Look, Jazz. Yes, I overheard your idea, and decided that I would take the lead. I’ll lead the human ghost hunters in the attack on the ship, we’ll turn off the shield, and then you and Phantom can come in to actually deal with the ghosts.”

“Wait, hold on,” Valerie cut in before Jazz could reply. “Aren’t you Phantom?”

Danny jerked backwards to look at Valerie over Jazz’ back. Jazz also turned to shoot her an incredulous look.

“What? Why are you both looking at me like that?” Valerie frowned. “Seriously, I asked Phantom if he was Danny Fenton and he said yes. And Jazz, you keep saying he’s your brother. What was I supposed to think?!”

“Technically, all of that is true.” Danny made a face. “It’s just… not the complete truth.”

“One might even say that it’s complicated,” Jazz added, just to rile up Danny a little. “I don’t know why Phantom would tell you he’s Danny but not tell you the whole story, though. He is actually Danny Fenton, yes, but he’s from alternate universe, and just staying until his own friends and sister find him.” She reached behind her to pat Danny on the arm. “This is my actual fully human brother. Hence why I call him Danny, and the other guy Phantom.”

“Ah.” Valerie nodded, but the crease remained. “I… see. I thought you were just, I dunno. Trying to separate the two halves with their own names, or something. So you wouldn’t slip up and call him Danny while he was a ghost.”

“I mean, that’s almost the truth,” Danny pointed out, lips quirking up into a smile. “Anyway, I should go help Sam and Tucker prep the weapons for your classmates. Jazz, you go find Phantom and come join us before we actually leave, okay? The promise of teaming up with Amity’s actual protectors will help convince them.”

“I’ll get going too, then.” Valerie pushed off of the railing, then paused, realizing what she’d said. “I mean, um. I…”

Jazz clicked her tongue. “You need practice with lying on the spot, Val. She’s the Red Huntress, Danny.”

“The human hunter with the hoverboard?” he guessed, then nodded at her. “Yeah, that’d be good. You can take lead, since you’re probably the best fighter among the humans. I’ll have Tucker go down to deactivate the shield, and Sam and I can help cover him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Valerie nodded back, the tension in her shoulders ebbing a little. “Just…”

“I’ll keep your secret, no worries,” Danny assured her. “Unless you leak Jazz’ secret and get her hurt as a result, but that’s just fair turnabout.”

Valerie snorted. “Yeah, I think I’d deserve whatever shit I get if that ever happens. Where are we meeting?”

“Up top.” Danny raised a finger to point above them. “The Ops Center can turn into a blimp, that’s what we’ll use to get to the ship.”

“Gotcha.” Valerie nodded, once. “See you in a min, Danny, Jazz.”

They watched as Valerie made her way down the stairs, sneaking through the front door unnoticed.

“I’d better get going too.” Jazz pushed herself off of the railing. “See you upstairs.”

“Yeah, see you in a minute.” Danny turned back to head down the stairs as well, while Jazz went to her room. The moment the door closed behind her she shifted to her ghost form, invisibly phasing out through the wall.

She intercepted Phantom on his way to the house, dropping her invisibility.

“Oh, Jazz,” he said, seemingly surprised. “What are you doing outside?”

“We’re meeting the teen ghost hunters upstairs,” she explained with a shrug. “Danny, Sam, and Tucker are leading my classmates for now, but Val is gonna show up and take lead during the actual attack. They’ll probably explain the whole plan for the class in a minute, when we’re all there.”

He nodded. “Gotcha. To the Ops Center, then?”

“Let’s.”

They flew up to the Ops Center quickly, but paused right outside it. Valerie, completely suited up and standing on her hoverboard, was already there.

Whoops. Nobody told her how to get in.

“There’s a door on the top,” Jazz pointed out. “Sorry.”

Valerie stared at Phantom for a moment longer before nodding. “Yeah, alright. See you inside.”

The huntress flew over to the roof, her hoverboard retracting into the soles of her shoes so she could land. She found the hatch, opened it, and dropped through.

After a beat or two, Phantom nudged her. “Let’s go.”

Jazz nodded back, and they both phased through the center’s metal walls.

The inside of the Ops Center was crowded, but surprisingly quiet. A hush must’ve fallen when Valerie had come in, and they quietened down entirely when she and Phantom came in.

Valerie hovered at the front—had apparently re-engaged her hoverboard after coming in—with Danny, Sam, and Tucker right with her. Jazz flew over there as well, Phantom right beside her.

“Wow, what a team!” Danny said, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do you see that, guys? Looks like we’re gonna show those stupid ghosts what Amity Park can really do!”

Phantom quirked an eyebrow at the speech, his spectral tail lashing lazily. “Do you have a plan? Specter and I would love to help, but we can’t, not unless you guys take the shield down.”

“As a matter of fact, we do!” Danny waved a hand, and Sam and Tucker rolled forward a whiteboard. On it were crude drawings of the ghosts’ ship and the Ops Center, but nothing else was filled in yet.

“Because of the shield, us humans will be taking lead in the fight.” He tapped a marker against the drawing of the Ops Center. “We’re in the Emergency Ops Center now, which can turn into a blimp. We’ll use that to fly us to the ship.” He drew an arrow from the Center to the ship.

“Once we’re there, we’ll board them. The Red Huntress,” he gestured over at her, “will lead our main assault. They will fight primarily against the grunts, since the ringleaders probably won’t step up that soon. With their attention drawn, the three of us,” he gestured at Sam, Tucker, and himself, “will split off. Tucker is our tech-master, and he can disable the ghost shield. Sam and I will cover him.”

Danny erased the green circle around the ship with his thumb. “With the shield down, Specter and Phantom are free to join us. The two of them, together with the Red Huntress, will take on the leaders, who will probably come involve themselves by then. The rest of us will take out the remaining minions, then join the fight against… what were their names?”

“Ember and Youngblood,” Jazz answered him.

“Right. The rest of us will join the fight against Ember and Youngblood, helping however we can without outright endangering ourselves. These three,” he gestured at her, Phantom, and Valerie, “are all packing capture devices. They’ll be in charge of catching the enemy ghosts. Once we’re all clear, we’ll take the ship down carefully. Unfortunately, as you might’ve noticed,” he gestured around them, “the Ops Center is too small to take everyone back safely, so that’s what we’ll have to do. Any questions?”

He looked over the crowd of teenagers, but no one spoke up. “Good. In that case, come forward to grab weapons from me, Sam, and Tucker. Phantom, Specter, you’re free to wait outside, since you won’t be in here for the fight anyway. Red… feel free to grab extra weapons if you want.”

“I’m good,” Val muttered, her voice quiet. Probably trying not to get overheard by her classmates.

“We’ll be outside, then,” Phantom told Danny, then nodded at her. They phased outside, landing on a nearby rooftop.

The pirate ship hovered high above them, an unnatural green in the overcast skies. The shield around it reflected oddly in the windows around them.

“This fight is gonna be a breeze,” Phantom said airily, hands behind his head.

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him, cocking her head. “You sound confident.”

He snorted. “I managed without too much trouble. Now I’m more powerful, and backed up by both you and Valerie.”

“And a small army of my classmates.”

“And a small army of your classmates, yes,” Phantom corrected with a laugh. “Seriously, Ember and Youngblood don’t know what they’ve got coming.

Jazz watched him smile, and it felt like a knot loosened in her chest. It was good, to see Phantom smile like that. Confident, powerful, at ease.

They had this fight won before it even started, really.

#danny phantom #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #phic #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jazz phantom #halfa jazz au #jack fenton #maddie fenton #dark writes #absurdism #valerie really burrowed her way into this fic #really dont know what i wouldve done without her tbh #this phic changed so much from the original planning and im so glad for it

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sirsapling · 4 years

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