#i did make a kiddo version of her when she's a little grown up but we aren't going there yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nycbabyjoey · 2 years

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Beach Babe

NSFW 18+ Only

Contains ABDL Content

The sun was out and the sky was clear! It was the perfect day for Jackie to head down to the water and show off her beach bod for all the hot college guys. There was just one problem.

"I want ice cream!"

"We'll get ice cream in a second," Jackie responded impatiently. "Just go play in the sand for a minute."

Yeah, so Jackie had promised to watch her little cousin Derek. But she wasn't going to stay cooped up in the house all day watching the little twerp! She had just bought a new bikini and she wanted to take it for a test drive.

Of course, the brat wasn't grateful and whined the whole drive that he didn't want to go to the beach. What kid doesn't want to go to the beach anyway? Regardless, Jackie was in charge and what Jackie says goes.

Derek sighed as he sat down on the hot sandy beach and began to dig a hole. He didn't even have a shovel and pail to use; the task was pretty much an attempt to occupy his mind while he waited for ice cream.

Meanwhile, Jackie laid out a towel to display herself to the nearby studs on the beach who were playing a game of Spikeball. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen before taking her bikini top.

"Yoohoo, boys!" she called out. "Would someone help me with my sunscreen?"

The boys basically climbed over one another to get the opportunity to rub lotion on her back. Jackie giggled to herself.

Derek groaned. He was already bored. He was only seven years old, but he knew why they really came to the beach - so that Jackie could talk to boys! Why did he always have to do what grown-ups told him to do?

Digging a conch shell out of the sand, Derek decided to whisper a wish into it, hoping it would come true. "I wish I was in charge. Then, Jackie would have to do whatever I wanted to do!"

Jackie smiled as one of the hunky beach guys sensually applied sunscreen to her lower back. She had these guys in the palm of her hand. She was feeling a bit frisky, so she had the bright idea of rolling onto her back to give the men a preview of her tits. Who knows? Maybe she'd let one of the guys rub some sunscreen on them too!

She decided to flip over but, when she did, everything was different. First thing that Jackie noticed was that the guys didn't react how she expected them to. Instead of hollering with wide eyes and agape mouths, the men had fawning expressions as if she were too precious for any dirty-minded thoughts.

She looked at herself next and the reason was apparent: she had a shirt on! Her breasts were no longer on display, but stranger than that is what the shirt said: "Baby Me!" alongside a cartoon drawing of a baby with a diaper and blonde pigtails.

Finally, Jackie made the most shocking realization of all. As she looked past her shirt, she realized that she also had a diaper and blonde pigtails! She gasped and looked up horrified at the men surrounding her, humiliated that they had been looking at her ass in a thick diaper rather than small bikini bottoms.

Among the group of guys was one who hadn't been standing there before. Tall and buff with short, scruffy, light brown hair. He kind of looked like an older version of -

"Derek??" Jackie shouted in disbelief.

"Hey cuz," a grown Derek responded. "I see you've met my friends."

"She's a cute kid," one guy remarked.

"Oh yeah, she's cute," Derek smirked. "You should see her when she throws her little tantrums though. It's adorable!"

A symphony of aww's followed Derek's condescending comment as Jackie sat on the beach towel mortified. Her face simmered red in frustration. What could have caused this? Whatever had, she knew she had to get away from here. She stood up, barely reaching the chest of her previously younger cousin.

"I want to go home!" Jackie demanded, stomping her foot. "Right now!"

"What's the rush, kiddo?" Derek responded. "We just got here!"

Jackie had enough. She started to run away, hoping to make it home to change into anything else. However, she didn't make it far. She could only waddle in her thick diaper and running over shifting sand only made things harder. She made it just a few feet before falling down face first into the sand. Between the pain and humiliation, Jackie couldn't stop herself from crying and kicking her feet into the sand.

Derek came over and scooped her off the ground as if she were light as a feather. Jackie's head rested on his shoulder and her padded butt rested on his beefy arm.

He placed her back on the ground where she wiped the last of her tears away before crossing her arms and pouting.

"We'll go home when I say," Derek said with a mischievous grin. "Now, why don't you play in the sand while we go meet some of the pretty girls, ok?"

Jackie groaned as Derek walked away with his new guy friends to talk to bikini-clad women while she was stuck in a baby's diaper. All the attention from ogling beach boys was now replaced with attention from passersby about "what an adorable little girl" she was. Derek did something to swap their ages, that much was clear. And now, he was babysitting her!

She decided she had no choice but to entertain herself until Derek ruled they could leave. She hesitantly grabbed a red pail and shovel and started work on a sand castle. Maybe it'll be fun, Jackie tried to convince herself. After all, she hadn't made one since... the last time she was a baby girl.

She filled her little pail with sand and turned it upside down to make a column. She did that three more times to make the four corners of the structure. As she grabbed handfuls of sand to pack in between each of the columns, a group of young boys about eight or nine years old came over and stomped out her sandcastle.

"Hey!" Jackie shouted. "That's not nice!"

"Hehehe," one of them teased. "Crybaby!"

"I am not a crybaby!" Jackie said indignantly, resisting the urge to cry as tears began to form in her eyes once again.

"Are too!" the other responded. "Only babies poop in their pants!"

"Maybe she has a stinky diaper already!"

One of the kids pulled on the back of her diaper, causing the woman to squeal as he saw her exposed bottom. The other kid filled Jackie's pail with sand and began dumping it down the back of her diaper. Jackie shot into the air as the two children ran away, chuckling. Her diaper sagged as the large amount of sand began slowly pouring out the leg holes. Almost immediately, the weight of Jackie's loaded diaper made her tip back over, landing on her bottom. The sand redistributed throughout her diaper as she started kicking the ground in another full-blown tantrum.

Derek walked over. "Don't worry Jackie," he said. "We need to get you in your swim diaper anyway."

Jackie was humiliatingly changed out of her sandy diaper into an even more embarrassing bright pink diaper covered in unicorns and ribbons. Derek and a few beach babes he had met wanted to go in the water, but Derek still wanted to keep an eye on his new baby cousin so she would have to swim too.

Derek busted out a pair of Hello Kitty floaties to make the ensemble just an extra bit degrading.

"Please Derek," Jackie begged. "I'm sorry I took you to the beach. We should've stayed at home. But you can't make me go out there like this."

"Come on sweetie," Derek continued teasing. "You'll need them if you're going to swim all by yourself."

Jackie tilted back her head as she dubiously extended her arms so that Derek could slide the pink water wings onto them.

Now shirtless, Jackie toddled her way towards the ocean water. She had earlier wished to flash her breasts to all the boys on the beach, but now they couldn't care less. Their attention was on her thick, pink diaper.

She waded in the shallow end for only a few moments before her tummy rumbled. No, no, no! Her mind raced. All this time in a diaper and she hadn't even considered the possibility of using it! She had to find a bathroom.

She frantically began to push her way back to the shore, but the waves pushed against her and her diaper slowed her down even more. Eventually, she stopped in her tracks as she tried to stop the inevitable. She squatted in the ocean, clenching her butt cheeks as hard as possible.

"Mommy, look!" one kid pointed. "She's taking a poop!"

Children and adults alike began to rush out of the water as Jackie finally stopped straining, emptying a mushy load into the seat of her swim diaper.

"Everyone, out of the water!" a lifeguard announced over intercom as Jackie stood alone in her stinky diaper.

Derek waded towards her to dig the knife in further. "P-U!" he said, wafting the smell away mockingly. "Someone needs a diapie change before we head home."

Jackie's dirty diaper was changed publicly back on the beach shore by Derek as several of his new friends, male and female, observed. She had wanted to flaunt her body, but this is not what she had in mind.

Jackie didn't know when, or if, things would go back to normal. But as long as she was the one filling her diapers and crying over sandcastles, she knew that her once younger cousin would be in charge of her from now on.

#ab/dl #ab/dl caption #ab/dl girl #diaper caption #diaper humiliation #ab/dl babygirl

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biographydivider · 2 years

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Well I had to write an El Ratoncito Pérez story, didn’t I?

Thanks to @usedtobeguest123 for the prompt! Also I found this version of the original story and used it as reference, if anyone needs it. It’s super cute! Bruno finds out that his youngest sobrina missed out on a beloved tradition, and decides to fix it.

“No, that is not how it happened!” Pepa leaned forward in her chair, thumping her fist on the breakfast table. “I’m telling you, Bruno; Agustín didn’t break his leg on purpose. He’s clumsy, not stupid.” “He totally did. I remember him telling me he did.” Bruno leant back in his chair, inhaling the smell of rich, dark coffee. How he loved coffee. “He was all like, ‘Nah, I don’t need a soft landing, Bruno. I-it’s all in the pursuit of love, of sweet Juileta…’” “He did not say that.” “Mmyeh, makes a better story than ‘ Agustín met the love of his life because he fell out of a tree onto her brother.’”

“Mamá! Mamá, Mamá look!” Antonio ran up to the table where his Mamá and tio were sitting, opened his mouth wide, and wobbled his front canine with his tongue. “Ah gah ah loof toof!” Mirabel brought up the rear, squeezing her primo’s shoulder before sitting next to her tio. “We just realised it was wobbly and had to come tell you,” she said. “Any coffee left, Bruno?” “Nope. Shoulda got here earlier, kid.” “Tch, so selfish.” Pepa sank to the floor, wrapping Antonio up in a huge hug and peppering his face with kisses, the tears welling up in her eyes before her knees hit the floor. “Ay, my baby! You’re all grown up! My hombrecito, my little buñuelo…” “It feels really weird.” “Stop moving it with your tongue, mi vida.” “Ah, well,” Bruno said, sipping on the last of his coffee, “You’ll be getting a visit from El Ratoncito Pérez soon enough, I guess…” Antonio and Mirabel looked at their tio; heads cocked, identical expressions on their faces. Mirabel inched forward in her chair. “El Raton…’” “Who’s that, Mamá?” Antonio asked, looking up into Pepa’s face. “Do they live in town?” Pepa winced. “You know,” Bruno continued, leaning back in his chair with a nostalgic grin, “Ratoncito Pérez? Th-the little rat? I used to tell the kids about him every time they lost a tooth – I can’t believe you forgot, they loved that story! They were always so excited to see what he drew for them…” “Bruno…” “’coz, y’know, he leaves you a present in exchange for your baby teeth? Lives in a cookie box, with the little red satchel and the…wh-why are you looking at me like that, Pep?” A tiny, grey cloud had appeared over Pepa’s head as she looked down at the floor, hands knotted in her dress. “Um, Bruno…we didn’t…I mean…” She darted a look at her son, and covered his ears with her hands. “You were always the one who did El Ratoncito Pérez when the children were small,” she whispered. “After you…after you left, we, um…” “I just gave my baby teeth to my Mamá,” came a small voice at Bruno’s shoulder. Bruno turned, heart sinking, to see Mirabel gazing into the middle distance, her expression blank. “She kept them in an old box of spices in her room. We painted it together.” She shook her head – just a tiny movement, almost more of a shiver. “So, everyone else got…they got presents, and a story, and I didn’t?” “Oh. Oh, kiddo…” At the sound of his voice, Mirabel looked at Bruno, a memory dawning in her eyes. “Camilo,” she began, and her voice cracked. “Um. He lost his first tooth just before I didn’t get my…um, like, the week before my gift ceremony. And he was so excited, I remember now…” Bruno remembered that day. Camilo finding the little envelope under his pillow, showing everyone the little drawing inside that Bruno had done the night before, sticking it to the wall just above his bed. He’d drawn a tiny mouse-Camilo holding hands with El Ratoncito Pérez. His tiny curls and a big, wide smile with a gap in it. It was the last time he played that game with the kids before he went into the walls. He wondered what had happened to that picture. The cloud burst, slowly tinkling raindrops onto Pepa’s hair. “Mirabel…we didn’t –” “No, Tia Pepa. It’s okay. It’s just another piece of magic that everyone else had. And I didn’t.” Mirabel blinked hard, then stood up. “I’m gonna…I said I’d walk with Abuela into town today. I better go get ready.” She pushed her chair out from the table, making an awful screech against the cobblestones, and walked away without looking back. Bruno watched her go, Antonio breaking free of his mother to run after her. Guilt lay heavy across Bruno’s chest; followed, quickly, by anger. “Seriously, Pep?” he said, jerking his head to glare down at his sister. “You guys couldn’t even do that for her?” She couldn’t look at him. “Bruno…it…it was your thing. We could never do it like you did. Your little drawings, the notes –” “Then just put a coin under her pillow like everyone else in town does, jeez! She was a kid, Pepa, you guys didn’t think she deserved even that tiny bit of –” “We didn’t want to replace you!” “So that means Mirabel gets to suffer? Oh, wait; of course it did.” Bruno stood up from the table. “Sorry, Pepa; I-I’m pretty mad at you and I don’t wanna shout. So, so I’m just gonna go.” “Bruno –!” “See you at dinner.” …

She knew it didn’t matter. The family had been through so much together; grown so much together. So much had been forgiven, and talked over, and rationalised and analysed and swept under the rug. But still. It hurt. Could you miss something you never even had? She’d barely known her Tio Bruno when she was small. And yeah, they were close now. He was – and she’d never say this out loud because it was kinda pathetic – probably her best friend. But she didn’t get to have his bedtime stories, or his hugs when she’d skinned her knee, or ticklefights or rides on his back. Everyone else had these touchstones of memory with him from their childhoods. She didn’t. It seemed there were a lot of things she didn’t get to have. Mirabel had excused herself after dinner and spent the rest of the night reading the Family Book Club book up in her room until it was late enough that she could curl under the covers and close her eyes. For a long while, her brain was just a swirling mess of self-pity and sadness. Then, finally, she tipped over into the blank relief of sleep. When she next opened her eyes, it was the middle of the night. The moon was full, and shining against her curtains, but everything else was thrown into shadow. She could hear her father snoring a few rooms down, the creak and shift of the house settling into itself. And something new. Scrabble-scrabble. Scrabble-scrabble. Scrabble. Mirabel sat up, fumbling for her glasses. Her eyesight was, somehow, even worse than her Papi’s; everything was a mess of smudges without them. In the middle of the floor was a shape. One of Antonio’s toys? How had that ended up in – As she pushed her glasses into place, Mirabel realised it wasn’t a toy. It was a rat. A small, soft, mist-grey rat, with a miniature straw hat and – Mirabel’s chest tightened – a tiny red satchel, the strops looped over its front paws, stuffed with rolls of paper. The rat spotted her and turned its tiny head. Mirabel froze. The rat scurried up the bedpost at the far left of her bed, making its way over the hills and valleys of her sheets until it was sitting on her knee. It sat up on its hind legs and looked at her, cocking its head this way and that, the moonlight caught in its beady, black eyes. Mirabel reached out one hand, and it snuffled at her fingers. It tickled, but Mirabel didn’t laugh. She barely wanted to breathe. This seemed like something from a dream, and if she made too loud a noise, she’d wake up. The rat turned away from her, showing her the contents of its satchel. It squeaked, once, in an instructional kind of way. With shaking fingers, Mirabel took the scrolls of paper from the satchel, and laid them in her lap. With that, the rat gave her one last look, and was gone; down the bedpost, onto the floor, and lost in the shadows of her room. After a long, long moment, when her room fell quiet again, Mirabel leaned over and tugged the curtains open; just enough so she could read by the light of the moon. The first scroll, when she unfurled it, was no bigger than the palm of her hand. ‘Dearest Mirabel,’ it read, ‘I must first apologise for the lateness of these missives. You see, I have been on a long and perilous adventure with my best friend, King Bubi (I shall tell you all about him in Letter #2). The terribly wicked cat, Don Pedro, dogged our steps at every turn (which was quite impolite of him, being a cat), and so I am only just now writing to you...’ There were so many letters. Each one had a new story, or a little drawing (her favourite one was of a Ratty Tio Bruno running away from a housecat who bore more than a passing similarity to Parce, Antonio’s jaguar friend), coloured in with coffee grinds and shaded with pencil. Mirabel spent the rest of the night hugging her knees, squinting as she read each story in turn, running her fingers over the small, untidy, familiar writing. She smiled a lot – pressing her hand to her mouth to stop the giggles – and often had to pause to wipe away a tear before it smudged anything she hadn’t read yet. Just before sunrise, as her eyes were beginning to ache, she tucked the letters into her bedside drawer and snuggled down onto her pillow. “Thank you, Ratoncito Pérez,” she whispered, closing her eyes again.

…

Bruno woke up to a small, twitching nose pressing into his palm. “Wha…” he muttered blearily, before sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Rosa sat on the edge of his mattress, her satchel wonky on her back, hat hanging off one ear. Bruno had been so pleased to find the old costumes tucked away with the rest of his stuff. He couldn’t remember how he’d made the hat. “Hey, mi vida,” he murmured sleepily, gently removing Rosa’s outfit. “Did you have fun in your first starring role?” Rosa was his ingenue; at only a few months old, she was just starting to learn the ropes of Bruno’s troupe of performing rats. She needed her big break. Plus, it was less likely Mirabel would recognise her. A little suspension of disbelief went a long way to make a really good story. “C’mon,” he said, lying back down and letting Rosa make a temporary nest in his hair, “we can get a little more sleep before she wakes up.” If Mirabel was anything like her sisters, Dolores and Camilo, she would burst in here in, oh, about an hour or so, to show him her gifts from Ratoncito Pérez. And, just like the old days, he’d smile and ask questions and muss her hair and wish he had a big pot of coffee because it was really, really early, kiddo, can we do this at the breakfast table? He couldn’t wait.

#el ratoncito perez #encanto #encanto fanfic #Bruno Madrigal #mirabel madrigal #pensandpizza #grumpy bruno AND good tio bruno?#sign me up

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buckybarnesthings · 2 years

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Henderson household

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"Y/n! Is that really you?" Came a voice from behind me. I spun around to see a grown up version of little ms Wheeler, a big smile stretched across her face.

"My oh my, Nancy Wheeler. Seems like we both grew up" I said. Throwing my arms around her, almost in disbelief that I'm back.

"Well enough of the sappy reunions you two, I want my hug too." Scolded a second voice, peering over Nancy's shoulder I saw the infamous Steve Harrington.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" I said, scrambling over to him in shock. I thought him and Nancy broke up awhile ago, hopefully they figured their shit out cause they were my favourite couple.

"Do you really think I'd miss your arrival back to this shit hole? Who do you think I am?" Steve sighed. His antics never did stop entertaining me, he was the jokester of Hawkins when we were kids.

"Yea yea, whatever Harrington you've been spending too much time around my brother. I think you're loosing your touch with the ladies as you don't seem to have the same charm." I snarked, I sure missed teasing Steve till he turned red in embarrassment.

"Ok you two, I promised a rather eager boy that I'd get his sister home in one piece before dinner. And it's already dessert time at the Henderson household." Nancy stated, leading us to the car.

-time skip-

As we pulled into the all familiar driveway I was bombarded with all the childhood memories. Memories of the dinners and christmases we used to have with the Wheelers and Steve. Mr. Wheeler and Steve's family didn't really like my parents but simply tolerated us for the food and gifts.

Before I could even think about opening the door a loud van came haphazardly racing down the street and coming to a stop in my front yard. The passenger door flew open to reveal my little brother and his best friend Mike Wheeler. I didn't even get to see who was driving as the second the boys jumped out of the car the van was racing off again.

"That Munson boy is gonna get himself into lots of trouble one day, he's just lucky Hoppers not here to keep catching him." Steve quipped, glaring at the van.

"Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!" Dustin screamed, his classic goofy smile evident across his features. Damn I missed him so much whilst I was gone.

"Dustin, you've grown but I can't say you got any less smelly, I can smell you from over here." I snarked, a grin across my face.

"I've missed you so much. I couldn't wait for you to come back home." Dustin said, as he threw his arms around as best as he could being shorter than me.

"You missed me so much that you were too busy to come pick me up from the airport." I laughed, leaving a kiss on his forehead, hugging him back.

"Mum said she was making your favourite for dessert since we would both probably be late for dinner." Dustin shared, grabbing my hand and dragging me inside.

"Hold on a minute kiddo. Hey Mike you've grown so much since I last saw you and I hear you've even got a girlfriend, unlike Dustin's imaginary one." I giggled, I can't pass up the opportunity to tease my little brother it builds his resilience for other kids at school.

"Y/n it's good to have you back. Dustin wouldn't shut up about you ever, I swear the entire Hellfire club has your name ingrained into their brains by now." Mike stated.

"Alright enough talking, I'm starving and want to spend some time with my sister before school tomorrow." Dustin interrupted, running inside.

"Sorry guys I guess that means this catch-up will need to happen properly another time, it's good to be back I missed you all. I'll see you around." I said, waving goodbye as I walked to the front door.

"Bye y/n!" Mike, Nancy and Steve said in sync.

-time skip-

"Goodnight mum, goodnight Dustin." I said from my bedroom door. I got no reply as mum had already gone to bed and Dustin had passed out watching some movie on the TV.

I got changed into my pyjamas and sat on my bed appreciating the surrounding walls covered in posters of some of my favourite bands and musicians. My mum hadn't changed a thing in my room, it was left exactly as it was before I left.

I still feel so bad about how I'd left, I wish I hadn't of rushed off so quickly without so much as a goodbye but simply leaving a note that didn't explain why I left simply just that I'd left.

-flashback-

Well that's it I've packed what was needed, especially my cassette tapes and player. I had enough clothes to get me outta this town and to the nearest laundry mat. I'd saved enough to catch a flight to Chicago where I could stay with a family friend until I could get my own place.

I couldn't go back to that horrible school after everything had happened, it was humiliating and I had been betrayed by the people I thought were my friends. I guess I should've expected with the group I hung around as they weren't exactly the best people around. I could've just stayed hanging out with Nancy and Steve or even the Munson boy who always seemed to want to talk to me or be around me when he could. Gosh I treated people like him so shit just to fit in with the 'cool' kids because I thought that's where I belonged.

But that's in the past now and there's only better things that can come from a new start at a new place and a new school. Even though running away from my problems will eventually catch up with me in what I assume will be the worst way possible.

-flashback over-

I fell asleep listening to the sound of Metallica and some other artists on my cassette tapes. Sleep found me pretty easily that night, despite the anxiety of returning to Hawkins high tomorrow as well as looking for a new job and cheerleading tryouts that I had Nancy sign me up for before coming back.

I wonder if anyone will even recognise me after the last few years of being away and finding a new style and personality.

I guess Hawkins high will never know what hit it tomorrow.

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

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*Giggles at all of your cute chaos cousins posts* *Imagines Ciri’s royal family meeting her Witcher family* I was just wondering if you might wanna write a little something to satisfy my craving for some everyone lives fluff? ❤️ I’m honestly just imagining sweet sea hound Eist meeting and making friends with the wolf boys XD

My friend ♥️ Do excuse the long wait, my brain was not in the mood for fluff for a bit there. This did turn out rather silly, but I hope you can enjoy it anyway! Maybe don't take it too seriously 😂

Everyone lives family-floof (with some vaguely implied Lambskel), rated T, 3.1k. Enjoy!

„Welcome, welcome,“ the crashing mine-cart voice of Crach en Craite boomed up the gangway which Geralt treaded lightly, Ciri clinging to his backside. The girl had slept through half of their ship’s journey and was still softly snoring. Geralt could feel drool against his neck, but he didn’t mind so much with her. It made him bite down on a smile as he set foot on the wooden planks of the dock.

The air around them was filled with the general clamour of Ard Skellig’s harbour, people that embarked and disembarked from various vessels, traders that carried wares to and fro, merchants that advertised their wares, children that spent their lazy afternoons watching the various ships dock.

Nothing of the wars with Nilfgaard had reached the Skellige Isles, not a single galley of the Black Ones, nor yet a spark of the fires that consumed the Northern Kingdoms. Nothing of the wars had reached their host either. Crach stood as a proud and stout warrior with open arms and a stately set of his shoulders, smiling broadly through his thick beard.

“Well met, Jarl,” Geralt said.

„Geralt of Rivia,“ he hollered and laughed and came up to Geralt to greet him before he noticed Ciri on his back. „By Freya, if it isn’t my dear cousin.“ Ciri perked up at that, and laughed when she saw the low bow Crach was giving her. She tugged on Geralt’s hair and he let her down with a grunt.

“Cousin Crach,” she squealed and barrelled into him under his thunderous laughter.

Geralt crossed his arms and smiled as the two of them hugged out their reunion, Crach bent low to wrap his huge arms around Ciri’s body, still small in spite of all the training she had done under the witchers’ careful instruction. Speaking of which…

“Man, this place stinks,” Lambert complained as he joined Geralt on the dock. His face was slightly pale, had taken on a greenish taint, and he wore a constant scowl. “Please don’t tell me all they have to eat is fish, I’d kill for a roasted chicken leg right now.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you,” Eskel said and he too took up position on Geralt’s side. Vesemir was the last to leave the ship, having chatted with the captain about sightings of rare sea creatures all journey long, and he looked as vivacious and happy as Lambert looked annoyed and sickly. A flush was spread over his cheeks and a bounce suffused his step making him seem younger than the lot of them which was a ridiculous notion. Geralt huffed, and jostled Lambert lightly.

“Fuck off!” the youngest wolf yapped and jostled him right back.

“I brought my family,” Ciri announced when she wound out of Crach’s embrace and her eyes glittered, a sea-weed green under the afternoon sun which hung in a cloudless sky. Her chest swelled in pride as she waved Crach over to introduce them.

“You know Geralt of course,” she said and Crach and Geralt exchanged another nod. Crach winked and Geralt bit down on his laughter. “The greatest witcher to ever walk the Continent!”

“I have a thing or two to say to that,” Vesemir huffed.

“You’re right, the second-greatest witcher to ever walk the Continent. Vesemir taught him,” Ciri explained and Crach saluted Vesemir loosely, then turned to the other two.

“These are my uncles Eskel and Lambert.”

“Not your uncle, kiddo,” Lambert grumbled.

“As you can see, Uncle Lambert is a massive killjoy. But he can be fun if he wants to be, he taught me how to make bombs.”

Geralt waited for the realization to hit Crach, the sudden understanding that having this girl live with four witchers of all people might have been the worst thing to happen to her, and that he should have them all executed for their crimes against the crown. But Crach only chuckled which, if anything, made Lambert even more suspicious. Geralt could see it in his narrowed eyes.

“Uncle Eskel is the best cook ever and he’s so strong. He once carried me and Uncle Lambert to bed when we fell asleep playing Gwent on the battlements. He makes a super strong herbal tea and he knows all about the weirdest kinds of monsters, those even witchers get to fight rarely. But don’t cross him, I hear his Axiis can knock you right out.”

“They can,” Eskel said, a faint blush clinging to his cheeks. “But so can my fists. Thank you for having us, Jarl.”

“I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, but I’m sure these men are great people and fine company. Welcome to all of you and my sincerest thanks for taking my cousin in. Her family is ours also and shall be welcomed on Ard Skellig henceforth. Please, dear witchers, follow me, there is much ale to toast with and a few other people that should like to make your acquaintance. Our servants have prepared a royal feast in your honour.”

“Royal feast, who gives a shit. Don’t think we will be wooed by manners and wine,” Lambert muttered and Crach laughed. “We’re only here because the brat was nagging us about it.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Lambert,” Ciri said and batted her lashes at him. “There’ll be beer and cuss words and all the types of fish you can imagine, it’ll be right up your alley.”

“Call me uncle one more time,” Lambert said through his teeth and Eskel drew an arm around his shoulder to pull him close, then whispered something into his ear which Vesemir and Geralt heard, but the others couldn’t. Lambert flushed red, Eskel smirked, and Vesemir scowled at them. Geralt shook his head, biting down on an amused smile.

“We would love to join you in the keep,” he said. Ciri beamed at him, and so did Crach. Lambert was suspiciously quiet all the way up.

---

The moment Crach threw open the grand double doors at the end of the bridge that led into the entrance hall of Ard Skellig’s keep, a blur of reds and browns came shooting from a dark corner and barrelled straight into Ciri, knocking her over. All four witchers fell into various fighting stances immediately, their focus trailed on the heap of limbs on the floor, but as soon as Ciri’s excited giggles echoed through the great space, they relaxed.

“Cerys,” Ciri laughed and they tumbled about on the floor, Ciri and a girl that was no more than a couple years younger than she. She had flaming red hair and wore a version of Crach’s armour, adjusted to fit her still growing body. The girl grappled with Ciri, then tried to pin her down, but Ciri’s training kicked in – Geralt noticed her perfect execution of a manoeuvre that flipped their positions – and she gained the upper hand. Cerys stared up at her, wide-eyed, then burst into laughter that too matched the thunder of her father. It was amazing, coming from such a small person.

“You,” Cerys hissed between hiccups of laughter. “You abandoned me. You promised to be here for my birthday, but you abandoned me for what? This group of stinky old men?” She glared at the witchers, or tried to, but her eyes spelled mirth.

“We’re not adopting another child,” Lambert said and Eskel jostled him. Vesemir and Crach were both smiling into their beards.

“My darling Cerys,” Ciri said and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, the cheeks, the nose. Cerys howled in dismay and wriggled in Ciri’s grip, all in good humour. “How you’ve grown.” With that, Ciri let her go and pulled her cousin up with her. The girls regared each other for a long moment, then fell into a bear hug.

Geralt watched them, arms crossed, and felt his heart warm at the sight. He hadn’t realized prior to this trip, stupidly hadn’t realized, how much family Ciri still had, how many connections to the world. When he’d taken her in, the only thing on his mind had been getting her to safety. He’d thought she had no one left and now here she was, a bright young girl, on her way to become the first ever female witcher, with two families to call her own. There were doubts there too, of course. Should he have brought her here in the first place?

“You did good with her, wolf,” Vesemir said as he came up to Geralt’s side and placed a light hand on his bicep.

“We all did, even Lambert,” Geralt said. “But maybe it’s time to give her back to the world?”

“She would have your cock sizzling over a campfire for that if you even implied it.” Geralt’s eyes widened and he stared at Vesemir. Vesemir had his gaze fixed on the still hugging girls, but his moustache twitched. “She’s one of us now, Geralt.”

Geralt accepted that in silence. Right then, his ears pricked up as he heard two more people approach from a stairway to the right. One of them Geralt recognized instantly in his proud bearing and his weathered face. Eist Tuirseach, former Jarl of Skellige, King of the fallen country of Cintra, always bore himself with pride, nobility and mischief woven about his person like an invisible cloak. Geralt liked the old sea bear, even though he’d only met the man briefly at his and Calanthe’s betrothal. The day Geralt had claimed Ciri as his child surprise. He saw Geralt and nodded slightly, then his eyes fell to Ciri – who had finally let go of Cerys – and they widened, lips parting in a gasp as though, up until now, he hadn’t quite believed she would come.

“Cirilla,” he said, oh so quietly, but she heard. She’d been wintering with wolves, she heard. And in an instant, she was across the space between them, had hurled herself into his arms. Ciri shrank then, back into the girl Geralt had first picked up in the middle of the war and Eist’s eyes filled with tears as he crouched down to envelop her in his arms which were clad in furs. He buried his face in her hair and both sobbed quietly.

“Who is he?” Eskel asked under his breath.

“Her grandfather,” Geralt replied to put it simple. Titles would mean nothing to Eskel, nor to Lambert. His brothers actually cared as much about politics as Geralt pretended to care about them which was nothing at all.

“I had not known King Eist had survived the war,” Vesemir said to Crach. The two warriors were standing off to the side, heads tucked together while Eskel stood with Geralt and Lambert… Lambert sat cross-legged on the floor, caught in a staring match with little Cerys. In all of that, the broad but hunched figure of what Geralt assumed was Cerys’ brother, got lost somehow. He stood close to Eist, eyes trailed at the ground. Geralt dismissed him as unthreatening and insignificant, and refocused his attention to Eist and Ciri who were still holding onto each other as though the White Frost was about to sweep over the lands and they could only fend it off by hugging. Something barbed lodged in Geralt’s throat at the sight. He swallowed it down. He was not Ciri’s father.

As if she could sense his distress, Ciri detached herself and walked back to the wolves, beckoning Eist to come along.

“You’ve got to meet them all,” she said to the old king. “You can’t imagine what they’re like.”

“I really can’t,” Eist said. There was a healthy flush on his cheeks and he wouldn’t meet Geralt’s eyes. It was a good thing because if he had, they might have just both lost it over Ciri’s antics. It was like she’d de-aged by half a decade, childish excitement replacing the determined wolf she’d become.

“You have met Geralt. And this next to him is Eskel, my favourite uncle,” Ciri expained and Eist and Eskel shook hands.

“Hey, I heard that!” Lambert called and Cerys whooped, having won the staring match upon Lambert’s indignant outcry.

“I thought you weren’t my uncle,” Ciri retorted and they spent a moment sticking their tongues out at each other as Eskel and Eist briefly chatted about the sea journey to which Geralt hummed along. It was a lot, all these people in a room together, and he had expected them to clash, but somehow… it worked out.

At first, they’d all thought it was a terrible idea. They’d gotten word from the Skellige Isles, a coded message that had contained an invitation for the witchers and Ciri – if the rumours of her survival should be true – to sail to Ard Skellig and stay with the an Craites who’d become part of her family by her grandmother’s marriage to Crach’s uncle.

Vesemir had been completely against it, Eskel had refrained from commenting on the matter and simply gotten ready for another year on the Path, Lambert had kept spewing all the reasons why they shouldn’t at anyone who would listen. Geralt… Geralt had wanted to do good by Ciri and he’d known she needed it. To be with normal people, people that knew her in a way the witchers couldn’t. He’d also painfully understood Lambert’s arguments. It was dangerous for anyone involved. But in the end, Ciri had put on all her charms, had gotten out her arsenal of annoyance, and had convinced them to dare. They rarely did that these days, daring. They’d discussed it over the fire one night, and had decided, collectively decided because unfathomably, the girl wanted them all to come, to indulge her. And here they were.

“So,” Vesemir said as he approached Eist, both thumbs hooked into his belt and one eyebrow raised in his best impression of the hard teacher he used to be. Eist did not cower. “You are the reason this girl has been playing all manners of pranks on me.”

“I should hope so. Someone has to be around for her to fill their shoes with muck and put hair dye in their soap and so on. I would be direly disappointed in Cirilla if she hadn’t found someone to pester while he were separated,” Eist said and extended a hand. Vesemir glanced down at it, pretended to ponder, and Geralt and Eskel turned their heads down to hide their smiles. “Call me Eist.”

“Do you know, Eist, that I have woken up with my feet coated in honey and ants only yesterday?”

“That was Lambert’s idea though,” Ciri protested.

“Well, this Lambert must be an absolutely charming young man then,” Eist chuckled and from Lambert’s glare he did not cower either.

“I’m older than you, grandpa, I’ve had enough of this,” Lambert said. “You know what? That bridge looked funny. I think I’ll just go and jump over the railing it and see how many somersaults I can do on the way down. Aiden taught me a new way to get more spinning power.” With that, the youngest wolf got up, gave Cerys a pat on the head and made a run for it.

“LAMBERT, NO,” both Vesemir and Eskel shouted and gave chase, and Crach and Eist bellowed out laughter. Geralt and Ciri rolled their eyes at each other. It was then that Ciri finally noticed her other cousin, and only because Cerys stood by his side now. That close, the similarities were uncanny, brother and sister no doubt. They had the same long nose, the same hands. Hands that had wielded steel before and often. In a way, then, Ciri might fit in better now than she had before. Before Kaer Morhen, before the war. Before her life had fallen to pieces around her.

“Hjalmar,” Ciri said and approached the pair of siblings. Hjalmar shrugged, then walked away without sparing her a glance.

“He’s having a phase,” Cerys huffed. “We’ll hang out after dinner! Now that you’re apparently a fighter, we ought to spar. We can, father, right?” Both girls looked to Crach who seemed a little forlorn all by himself, eyes darting between where the witchers had disappeared to, where Hjalmar had disappeared to, and where Cerys and Ciri made puppy eyes at him.

“Cerys may fight, of course,” Crach said. “But I cannot decide for Cirilla.”

“Cirilla can damn well decide for herself,” Ciri said, fist clenching as if around the grip of an invisible sword. Back in Kaer Morhen, she would be scolded for backing down on a challenge and so she shook Cerys’ hand now before the girl trailed after her brother.

“I should… make sure they don’t set the place on fire. Eist will show you to your rooms once the rest of your family returns,” Crach said with a wave and followed his children with heavy steps, each a sigh against the carpet.

“Right then,” Ciri said and turned to Geralt and Eist, now the only people left in attendance. “What have you been up to, grandpa?”

“Oh, we’ve been spending our days on the terraces, watching for whales and counting seals. Calanthe has been bored out of her mind, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Geralt froze and so did Ciri. They exchanged a long look and Geralt could smell the tears prickle in Ciri’s eyes, but they didn’t manifest. Geralt gave an almost imperceptible nod and Ciri turned back to Eist, drawing a deep breath.

“She’s alive then.”

“She’s alive.”

“I want to see her,” Ciri demanded and held out her hand for Eist to take. To guide her. This was not a reunion Geralt needed to pry into, and so he inclined his head and gestured for them to go on.

“But Ciri,” Eist said and squeezed her hand. His voice had fallen to a quieter key and Geralt cocked his head to listen for his heartbeat. Not faster, slower if anything, but a certain tension was there nonetheless. There was something wrong with Calanthe. Something significant. “She might not be awake. She… rarely is.”

“What happened to her?”

“I think I should see how many somersaults Lambert managed,” Geralt interjected carefully and made to leave, but Ciri grabbed his hand before he could. Their eyes met again and hers were hard around the edges, softened on the inside. I need you, Geralt, the flicker in them said. And Geralt was not her father, not yet, he thought, and he didn’t know if he ever would be, but he would never deny her a request like this. She needed him, Geralt was there.

Eist glanced at where they held hands and his weary expression was washed away by a wistful smile.

“Knowing Calanthe, she should like to explain it to you in due time. You will see that she was wounded in the storm on Cintra and is still in recovery.”

“She’s the Lioness,” Ciri said simply. “She will roar and rise again.”

That she will, Geralt thought. And you right alongside her.

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yukidragon · 4 years

Text

Mermaid Jamie - Family

So... I’ve made a chapter for the dark fantasy AU/canon divergent story of mermaid Jamie I’ve been playing around with for Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch (which you really should play if you haven’t already, and I will never stop plugging it, never). Like an actual proper chapter instead of a teaser or snippits of scenes.

I still don’t have a proper title for the story in general, but if I was to title the chapter specifically, it might be “Family.” It seems appropriate to me since a certain theme has started to form between this and the teaser.

Standard disclaimer - my version of Our Life’s MC - Jamie Leimomi - aka Jamie Last - may differ from your interpretation of the character. This writing is also in third person rather than second. This writing is rougher than stuff I co-write on @dragonandtiger, and there are spoilers for the game. If none of these things bother you, then I hope you enjoy my splash of a bit of dark color onto such a bright and soft game.

...

Jamie had never planned to ask about her biological parents. She always rejected the idea whenever it flitted across her mind with the mercilessness of a hurricane tossing aside a butterfly. Yet, when faced with the question dead on, there was only one answer she could give.

“I want to know.”

The words came out distant to Jamie’s ears, as if someone else had spoken them with her voice somewhere several feet away. She at least hoped she was managing to look as calm as she sounded. At seeing her moms nod as one, she braced herself, preparing for the oncoming storm.

“Um…,” Lee squeaked out reluctantly. “I… I can leave… if you wanna have things be private.”

Jamie couldn’t draw her gaze away from her moms. They looked so sad. It tore her up inside. She tried instead to focus instead on the warm, bracing hand on her back.

She was fine. She could handle this.

“I want you here,” Jamie said, keeping her voice steady.

Lee gave Jamie a weak smile that went unseen by her cousin. “I can do that,” she said softly before shifting closer to Jamie. She gave the blue haired girl another part on the back, trying to channel all her love and support through the simple touch alone that she couldn’t manage with words.

Jamie managed to draw some strength from that support, and she straightened her back a little more. It was fine, she reminded herself. She could handle this. She had a loving family supporting her after all.

There was nothing to be upset about, no matter the answer.

It was obvious to Jamie that delivering this information was taxing on her moms. The looks they gave her broke her heart. It made her start to regret asking when she heard the way her ma’s voice wavered with heartache.

“You were adopted as a baby,” Noelani began, “but two years after Elizabeth. We used a different organization at the time, and you were adopted within the U.S.”

Not from the same family as Elizabeth.

But that was obvious, Jamie chided herself. The two of them had different skin tone, body type, hair, eyes… It was an absurd thought to have, and she banished it to focus on the rest of what her parents had to tell her.

Pamela sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she drew in her courage. When she met Jamie’s intense gaze again, it was with tired eyes. “We’re sorry to tell you, Jamie… your parents also passed away, and no other family member took you in… if there were any.”

So that was it then. Not that much different than Elizabeth. Not as bad even - she got to be a U.S. born citizen at least.

“That’s why we wanted to wait until you asked,” Pamela continued before Jamie could process the information further. “We didn’t want to suddenly drop that in your lap. We wanted you to be prepared.”

Of course not, Jamie silently agreed. They had no idea that Elizabeth would do that for them.

“We’re sorry, Jamie,” Noelani said, and the way she said it twisted Jamie’s heart a little more.

Lee squeezed Jamie’s arm, but the blue haired girl barely felt it.

For a long moment there was silence as Jamie accepted the information about her birth parents. Countless thoughts whirred quietly in the background like static as she processed it all. It was such a small amount of information, a fraction of what she had to study for classes, and yet it felt so much more massive than anything she had learned before.

“Okay…,” Jamie began, more to fill in the empty space of everyone’s expectations, as they waited for her to react. She had to organize her thoughts, and that meant focusing on the most important things first. “Thank you for telling me.”

Jamie saw the way her parents looked at her before glancing at each other. Clearly, they needed a little bit more. “I did wanna know, and now I do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Noelani managed a careful smile. “Thank you for listening, Jamie.”

“If there’s anything else you want to know,” Pamela added a little quickly, “all you have to do is ask. We’ll do our best to answer any questions you have.”

There was no chance for Jamie to stop to consider any before Noelani interjected one of her own.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked. “Are you going to be okay?”

Jamie could feel the way her parents were staring at her, and Lee too. They were worried, afraid of her flying off the handle like Elizabeth did. She couldn’t, wouldn’t yell at her parents in anger. Ever.

Besides, there was too much misery in this house today already.

Jamie put on her best smile and nodded. “I feel fine.” She was certain her tone was convincing, pleasant even. Despite that, the sad smiles her moms gave in return told her that it wasn’t quite convincing enough.

…

“Jamie?”

Jamie snapped back to the present at the sound of her mom’s concerned voice. It had been over five years since that afternoon when she gathered the nerve to ask about her birth parents. She was an adult now.

Despite that, the news her moms had for her made her feel like she was thirteen all over again.

“Are you okay?” Noelani asked as she took a step towards Jamie.

Jamie shook her head a bit to clear it and forced her focus back into the here and now. Just like five years ago, she was in the living room looking at her moms’ grave faces. The only major difference beyond the advancement of years was that Lee and Liz weren’t involved this time.

“I feel fine,” she said with no small sense of déjà vu. “I just… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither were we,” Pamela said, her eyes crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry for dropping this in your lap, but there wasn’t an easier way to tell you.”

Noelani nodded, her gaze sympathetic. “We were just as shocked when the orphanage called us to tell us the news.”

“Yeah,” Jamie muttered as she ran a hand over her eyes. “I get it. I mean…” She faltered as her gaze slipped from her moms to somewhere in the distance. “My birth parents are actually alive? And they want to meet me? It’s… a lot.”

That was probably the biggest understatement of her life.

As a child, Jamie had considered the possibility that her birth parents were still alive somewhere and, if so, they would likely want to meet her someday. That possibility disappeared five years ago on that summer afternoon. Now it was back, just like that.

And just like back then, Jamie felt as though someone had stolen the ground from underneath her feet.

Despite how concerned Jamie had been after her moms told her to come visit them, that they had something important that they could only tell her face to face, she didn’t expect anything close to this sort of world shaking revelation. It made her regret telling Cove he didn’t need to skip work to come with her; she needed him right now.

Noelani ventured to pierce the uncomfortable silence that had hung over them. “It’s okay not to know how to feel about it.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Pamela added. “We know you’ll need time to process all this.”

Noelani smiled gently, but Jamie noticed the sadness tinged in her eyes. “No matter what you decide to do, we’ll support you.”

Pamela nodded, her mouth set in a determined line despite her own clear distress at the situation. “One hundred percent, full stop.”

Despite the turbulent thoughts swirling around in Jamie’s head, she managed to smile sincerely at her moms. “Thank you.”

Five years ago, Jamie had chosen to leave rather than accept her moms’ comfort and reassurance. This time, she stepped forward, arms outstretched, and they eagerly closed the distance to envelope her in a warm embrace.

For a moment, Jamie just took in her mothers’ love and silently offered her own in return. “No matter what, you’ll always be my moms,” she said, her voice soft but earnest. “I love you.”

“We love you, too,” Pamela said, her voice cracking a little at the edges.

“More than words can say,” Noelani added, her voice thick with emotion as she gave Jamie an extra squeeze.

Although a part of Jamie wanted to remain like that for a while longer, she couldn’t help but start to feel overwhelmed. The air wasn’t quite stifling, but somehow there didn’t seem to be enough of it in the house. Reluctantly, she drew back from the hug and gave her moms an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna to go for a walk for a while… clear my head a bit.”

Both of her parents nodded, still smiling at their daughter despite the obvious concern in their eyes.

“Okay, kiddo,” Pamela said. “Do what you need to do for you right now.”

“Don’t worry about us if you want to go straight home after your walk,” Noelani added.

It was strange for Jamie to hear her ma say that her home was no longer the house she had grown up in all her life, but it was true - home was now an apartment a few miles away from here with Cove.

Jamie thanked her parents before leaving. She resolved to come back to give a proper goodbye before returning to the apartment, but it didn’t take long for her mind to wander as she let her feet carry her in no particular direction.

The sky was heavy with clouds, making the fall afternoon darker than it should have been. Although Jamie much preferred clear sunny days, it seemed appropriate that a storm was coming to match the one raging in her head.

As conflicted as Jamie felt about the whole thing, she knew she had to meet up with her birth parents. There was no way she could reject them, no matter how almost invasive their sudden return to her life felt. Guilt churned in her stomach for thinking that way, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling.

Jamie wondered if this was anything like Cove felt about his parents when he was younger. She vividly remembered the night he snuck into her bedroom for the first time and confided in her about how conflicted he felt over his mom coming back to live with him for a while.

This should have been good news. She should have felt happy to learn that her birth parents were still alive, that there had been an error with the orphanage’s records about their death, and they wanted to have a relationship with her, but she wasn’t. There was a sticky knot in her throat of sickly emotions too tangled together to make sense of them beyond knowing that the whole thing felt completely unwanted.

Jamie needed Cove right now.

She stopped walking to pull her cell phone out of her pocket and pulled up the conversation between her and Cove. She vaguely noticed that she had reached the beach in her mindless wandering and found it oddly appropriate.

Jamie: hey

Jamie’s finger hovered over the screen as her mind went blank. She had no idea how to summarize what was going on. She didn’t even know when Cove’s next break would be. It wasn’t as though he was allowed to have his cell phone on him at work.

Despite this conflict, it wasn’t even a minute before she heard the distinct chime she had assigned to Cove’s texts and saw his reply pop up on the screen.

Cove: Everything ok?

Jamie couldn’t help but smile a little in spite of how crummy she felt. Cove must have been waiting for her all to get back to him about what was going on all this time, rules or no rules. He was always so considerate of her. It made her feel a little less guilty about asking him to ditch work for her.

Jamie: Could you come to my moms’ place?

Jamie: I need you.

Cove: Okay. I’ll be right there.

Jamie closed her eyes and sighed with relief, feeling a little of the tension in her shoulders slip away. She could always count on Cove to be there for her.

Jamie: Thank you.

Jamie: <3

Cove: <3

Jamie smiled at the little heart Cove sent her and left the conversation at that. Even that little bit of back and forth had been a soothing balm to her aching heart, but she held herself back from seeking out more. She knew he needed to talk to his boss and then focus on driving. Any further texting would just delay his arrival that much longer, and more than anything else she needed him with her right now.

After turning off the phone, she paused to idly trace the dolphin keychain attached to it with her fingers. Even after all these years, the material was still as soft and vibrantly colored as it was on the day Cove purchased it for her. It was her first present from him, an irreplaceable symbol of their friendship. Just looking at it reminded her of him and how much he meant to her, as well as how grateful she was to have him in her life.

A quiet rumble of distant thunder drew Jamie’s gaze up to the horizon. The waves of the ocean were choppy in front of her, the wind starting to pick up in earnest. In the distance, dark clouds were approaching the shore, and as she watched, a brief flash of lightning flickered with them, followed by another ominous rumble.

Jamie frowned at the sight of the approaching storm and turned to head back home, or rather to her moms’ home. She wasn’t ready to go back yet, her mind still too tangled with conflicted thoughts, but she wasn’t about to stay outside during a thunderstorm. If it was a sunshower, then she would have been all for basking in the thrill of it, but she had never been a fan of lightning and thunder.

Jamie closed her eyes with a sigh, her shoulders slumping a bit. At least Cove would be here soon. She would feel better then, she was sure.

“Siren!”

The sudden yell caused Jamie to flinch in surprise. Between the oncoming storm and it being the off season, the beach had been deserted. Now she had even more reason to leave when she noticed someone walking in her direction from further down the beach.

“Siren! Wait!”

Jamie hesitated at the almost frantic call of the woman who she realized was definitely approaching her, waving to get her attention. She wondered if the woman knew her. She wasn’t familiar with anyone with blue hair and pale skin… except… herself…

Jamie froze, her mouth going dry as a desert as the woman closed in on her.

The woman was beautiful, her slender, delicate figure giving her the appearance of a model, though she walked in an awkward gait across the sand. Because Jamie was just shy of six feet tall she had several inches on this stranger, who was more average in height for a grown woman. There were other more subtle details, ones Jamie couldn’t help but recognize as ones she saw in the mirror every day.

As the woman got closer, Jamie saw she had large pink eyes that practically glowed in the muted sunlight. Her smile was wide, her expression one of pure delight that didn’t waver as she closed the distance between them. She wore a short but flowing dress that not only bared most of her legs but also the fact that she was walking barefoot. Oddly, her pinned up blue hair and pale skin were damp with moisture while her clothes appeared perfectly dry.

It took Jamie all her willpower not to give in to the irrational urge to make a run for it.

“Oh Siren, my Siren,” the woman said with tears welling in her eyes. Her voice had a sweet quality to it and an accent that Jamie couldn’t place. “I finally found you!”

Jamie braced herself to greet the woman in spite of how her skin crawled, but when she saw arms open wide to welcome her in a hug, she stepped back quickly to avoid it.

That retreat was enough to halt the woman’s approach just outside arm’s length from Jamie. She blinked her wide pink eyes repeatedly, appearing genuinely baffled. “Siren? Do you not recognize me? It’s your mother, your true mother!”

The bottom dropped out of Jamie’s stomach as the woman confirmed her suspicions. She tried to force out some sort of response, but words failed to come.

Her supposed mother grew distressed by the lack of response. “Oh, my poor, poor Siren. Do not fear. Your mother has come to take you home.”

Jamie panicked when the woman tried to grab her wrist and jerked away. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you!”

The woman froze, her large eyes somehow growing even wider.

Jamie held her phone in both her clammy hands as she took deep breaths to calm herself down after that outburst. If this really was her birth mother, she had to try to show some empathy. It was only natural for someone who lost a child to get emotional over a reunion with said child after being separated for almost two decades.

That didn’t mean Jamie wasn’t also giving serious consideration to running for it.

“My name is Jamie Leimomi,” Jamie said, speaking more calmly but drawing an edge under her name. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I don’t know you, and I don’t know anyone named ‘Siren.’”

Surprise melted away quickly from the woman’s face and her wide smile returned to full force. “Oh, yes, yes, of course. I am Demetria Palinouros, your real mother. Siren is the name I gave you before you were stolen from me.”

“Stolen?” Jamie repeated, surprised.

Demetria let out a sigh that turned into an almost painful moan. “My traitor sister Maris, she stole you from me, lied that I and your great father Apollo were dead to those people who took you from her. She lied to us that you were dead, and I believed her lies for so many years!”

By the end of the tirade, Jamie found herself feeling sorry for the woman in front of her, despite her misgivings. The distress Demetria showed, the tears that spilled forth freely, those were real. It made her feel guilty for wanting to run away when it was clear that reuniting with her meant so much to this person, her apparent birth mother.

Jamie tried to stand firm despite the guilt gnawing at her gut. She could handle talking with this woman. She reassured herself that if things went wrong, she could run or fight if she needed to. Demetria was smaller than her and didn’t appear nearly as physically fit, nor did she seem to move easily on the sand. A quick look around verified that they were the only two on the beach and that the clouds hanging overhead had turned a dark shade of gray.

Jamie took a deep breath and braved the conversation just a little longer. “Do… do you have proof?”

Demetria blinked away large tears, the sorrow fading somewhat with confusion as she stared at Jamie. “Proof?”

Jamie nodded, refusing to budge on the point. “If you were able to prove to the orphanage that you’re really my… my birth parent, then you can show that proof to me too, right?”

Demetria sniffled, but nodded, smiling once again through her tears. “Yes, yes, of course, of course!” She reached out for Jamie. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

Jamie stared at the offered hand for a moment before she took a deliberate step backwards. “I’d rather not.”

Silence set in for a moment as Demetria stared at Jamie. She appeared genuinely oblivious to how suspicious she was behaving. “Why? You asked for proof, so come with me for proof, Siren.”

Jamie tried to be discreet as she turned her phone on and began to type without looking away from the woman in front of her. “I’m not comfortable going anywhere with you.”

“But I’m your mother!” Demetria cried, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I don’t know who you are!” Jamie fired back, keeping her expression and tone rigid. There was no shaking the feeling that all of this was wrong and that she needed to get away as quickly as possible.

Maybe Demetria really was who she said she was, but that didn’t matter. To Jamie, she was still a stranger. Besides, just being biologically related didn’t mean the woman in front of her was safe to be around.

Jamie took another step back then another to increase the distance between them but made sure never to turn her back on the woman that claimed to be her mother. “I’m sorry, but I’m gonna go now.”

Demetria’s expression was blank as she watched her so-called daughter’s cautious retreat, tears trickling down her cheeks, mouth flagging open. She seemed truly at a loss, but not so much distraught as she seemed unable to comprehend why Jamie was leaving instead of going with her.

It only served to leave Jamie even more unsettled.

That was when the storm arrived.

Thunder tore through the air, causing Jamie to jump with a yelp. In the split second she took her eyes off Demetria, she realized that the woman had halved the distance between them, reaching out for her.

Adrenaline sent Jamie sprinting in the opposite direction when a deafening scream tore through her, but the scream did not come from her. A high pitched shriek erupted from the woman behind her, an explosion of noise that pierced her brain with a million bits of shrapnel.

Pain was the last thing Jamie knew before everything went dark.

…

Cove had been in the middle of driving when the rapid fire texts from Jamie came in. His phone had been tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat, and he had been too focused on the drive to notice it vibrate. When he arrived at their old neighborhood, he hadn’t bothered to check his phone when he scooped it back up, thinking only of meeting up with Jamie as soon as possible.

Her moms informed him that she had gone on a walk to clear her head, and that was all he needed to know before he was on the search. It didn’t matter that it was raining and the clouds rumbled with thunder. He had to find Jamie.

The first place Cove went was the hills behind the Leimomi house, but Jamie wasn’t there. It was then that he turned to his cell phone. Taking shelter beneath a tree to keep it from getting wet, he turned it on and saw the missed texts.

That was when the world stopped.

Jamie: theres a lady here

Jamie: at beach

Jamie: tryin to get me to go with her

Jamie: she looks like me but pink eyes

Jamie: says shes my mom

Jamie: thers something wring wit

That was all. The last text had been sent only twenty minutes ago.

Cove ran down the hill towards the beach, his heart pounding in his ears. He tried calling Jamie, but it only rang until it went to voicemail. He hung up and tried again and again to the same result. The frantic texts he sent asking where she was also went unanswered. He scoured the empty beach, screaming Jamie’s name all the while as he searched for some sign of her or any person at all.

He found nothing but empty sand and turbulent waves as the storm raged on.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #Mermaid Jamie #My Writing

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 13 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: very very brief mentions of death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 13: Lesser Celandine Means ‘Joys to Come’

The nine-year-old bounded out before Alex and Thomas through the botanical garden. They had been living together for about three years already and life was treating them right.

Both still worked for Washington, they still argued about small stuff – which they claimed were discussions in good faith and their friends called bickering like a married couple – and Philip was doing well in school.

They had fallen into a routine together that the versions of themselves from five years ago could have never pictured. As much as they started as jagged edges running along each other, they now found themselves puzzle pieces fitting together.

It was early May and one of the first few beautiful days of the month after a lot of rain, so the three had decided to go to the botanical garden nearby.

However, Alex didn’t know that Thomas and Philip were in on a plot together, a plot to do with a little box in Thomas’s pocket.

Philip pointed at a cactus and yelled: “Look, it got spikes!”

“I can see that, kiddo,” Thomas called out to him, “Can it flower?”

After reading the little sign for a moment, Philip pouted and yelled back: “No.”

“That’s a pity,” Thomas said, then called out: “This one here had beautiful peach colored flowers, if you want to see.”

“That’s not peach,” Alex butted in.

“Yes, it is,” Thomas retorted.

“No, it’s obviously orange.”

“What do you think orange looks like?” Thomas sounded more distressed than anything.

If Alex looked again, he could see that it was indeed peach and the lighting had made it appear more orange than it actually was, but now he had taken a stance. So, he said: “Kind of like that, though I will give you that it’s light orange.”

“Peach is pastel orange, you know that right?” Thomas said.

“So, then I’m right and it’s orange,” Alex shrugged.

“No, because there are many shades of orange and this particular one is peach,” Thomas sounded frustrated.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Alex made a great show of observing the peach colored flower, “If I look at it now, it looks more like apricot.”

“Peach is the lighter and pastel version apricot,” Thomas exclaimed, “The difference is literally super small, but I know my colors and this is lighter than apricot, okay. It’s peach.”

Alex grinned at him and the realization dawned, Thomas tiredly stated: “You’re just doing this to fuck with me.”

“You know me so well,” Alex smirked.

From between them, Philip spoke up: “I think it looks pretty.”

“It does,” Alex agreed, before reading the signs and saying: “Oeh, there’s a butterfly greenhouse, we should go.”

Thomas took Philip’s hand and offered Alex his arm: “Lead the way, darlin’.”

In the butterfly greenhouse they marveled at the butterflies fluttering around. Alex looked mostly up, but Thomas and Philip made sure to read each sign, since they had agreed on a certainflower for it to happen.

When they walked past a particular patch of flowers, Thomas got distracted by Alex, who gasped when a butterfly landed on his face. He grinned at Thomas, who snapped a picture. Then Philip elbowed him in the side and pointed at a sign.

They found it.

Philip quietly retreated to the background with the camera, while Thomas squatted and pretended to read the little sign.

He hummed and read: “Lesser Celandine, or Ficaria verna. Classified as a noxious weed, since it flowers before much of the native fauna, establishing dominance over native species.”

Alex stopped looking up and inspected the small yellow flowers. He hummed: “Interesting, what made that flower catch you eye?”

“Well,” Thomas said, here it was, “I happen to know their meaning.”

“Is that so?” Alex asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Yes, they mean ‘joys to come’,” Thomas shifted and reached into his pocket, “And I was wondering if you would want to explore all of the joys in the world with me.”

Gasping Alex looked at him with wide eyes, completely speechless.

“We’ve been through so much together,” Thomas went on, “You gave me so much more than I’d ever thought I’d have. So, Alexander, will you marry me?”

Alex didn’t care that he looked like the ultimate gay stereotype as he fanned his hands in excitement, tears in his eyes as he nodded and chocked out: “Yes!”

Thomas grinned and took out the ring to slip on Alex’s finger. Philip ran up behind him, camera still in hand as he threw his arms around Thomas’s neck, still at the perfect height from where he was knelt and babbled: “You said yes, right, Papa? You and Da are getting married!”

“I did, Pip,” Alex grinned, admiring the simple band with purple stone, “And I suppose you were in on it, little rascal.”

“Of course,” Philip smiled toothily as Thomas stood up, lifting Philip in a piggy back, “Da had to ask someone for your hand.”

“You asked Pip for permission?” Alex laughed.

Thomas shrugged: “Seemed the best option. I felt like he should get a say.”

“And I knew who he could trust,” Philip added.

“Oh yeah?” Alex asked, amused.

“Hm-hm,” Philip nodded.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, “It was smart to not involve Laf in this, just Eliza.”

“Dork,” Alex rolled his eyes, but he knew Eliza still had his ring size from when he and her went to find rings for his wedding to John.

“But I’m your dork,” Thomas informed him, “And you’ve just agreed to that being permanent, so I feel like that’s more on you than on me.”

“You’re insufferable,” was Alex’s reply, but they all saw he couldn't stop smiling.

“I know,” Thomas agreed, putting Philip down.

Alex pulled him into a kiss, while Pip made slight gagging noises that they both ignored. When they pulled apart, Alex whispered against his lips: “This was perfect, you’re perfect. Thank you.”

“Charmer.”

“God, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Alex gushed. He had been the one to ask John, so he never got the excitement of sharing, just the stress of asking. The novelty of this new feeling, making him even more excited about it.

Thomas smiled at him, love filled eyes. Alex didn’t even know how beautiful he looked right now, basked in sunlight with butterflies fluttering around him as his eyes sparkled and his smile tried to break his face in two.

He kissed him.

“What was that for?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Who’s the charmer now?” Alex teased.

“Da, Da, did you show him your ring?” Philip tugged on Thomas’s hand.

“I hope you don’t mind that I got myself one, I just had an idea,” Thomas shrugged, when he saw Alex’s quirked brow.

“I helped pick!” Philip told him proudly.

“Really?”

“Jup,” Thomas confirmed as he showed him the ring. It was identical to Alex’s, except that the stone was green instead of purple. Thomas said: “You know, those few years ago, I thought it was kind of obvious that we wouldn’t like each other, because purple and green are on other sides of the color spectrum, but I had forgotten how well they go together.”

“Only you’d judge people based on their color pallet,” Alex rolled his eyes, but his voice betrayed how touched he was.

“Do you like them?” Philip asked, eyes shining.

“I love them, Pip,” Alex ruffled his hair.

Thomas offered him his arm and that way Alex could look at his own hand, resting on Thomas’s arm with the ring reflecting the light. As they walked through the rest of the garden, Alex missed most of the flowers by being distracted.

That evening they invited their friends for drinks, when they were all sitting around Eliza spoke up, she had been the one involved, so she knew why this was happening: “So, Alex, any reason for the sudden get together?”

Alex grinned at her: “Well, Betsy, there is actually.”

“Is that so?” Eliza smirked.

“Jup, I got some jewelry today,” Alex told her, holding up his hand to show off the ring.

It was quiet for a second, then everyone seemed to make the connection and there was a wall of noise as everyone congratulated them, asked them how or when, as well as demanded to see the rings.

As Laf held their hands to see and compare the rings, he cried: “These are beautiful, but why wasn’t I told.”

“To be fair, I did think about it, but I was warned against it,” Thomas told him.

“Why!” Laf pouted.

“Because you nearly told John, by bursting out in tears when you saw him,” Eliza cut in, “I had to tell him your pet bird back in France died and he looked like him.”

“Oh, so that’s why he gave me a drawing of a bird,” Laf nodded, then moved on, “Anyway, I have grown, I would have been the perfect wingman in this.”

“I think Philip did a great job,” Thomas disagreed, “Right, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I got it on camera,” Philip said proudly, inviting a new round of chaos as everyone demanded to see.

“Ahw, ‘Lexi, you cried,” Angelica cooed, teasingly.

“I didn’t,” Alex huffed.

Herc looked at the video again and said: “Well, man, it kinda looks like you did.”

“Give me that,” Alex studied it, “No, maybe there was a bit of moist happening, but I feel like that’s more all the pollen in the air. We were in a big garden after all.”

“First of, using moist and grossing everyone out isn’t working,” Peggy said, “Second of, you fucking cried, just admit it.”

“I will agree to teary eyed, but no more,” Alex told her.

“Alright, Mr. Teary Eyed Little Baby Man,” Peggy rolled her eyes.

“Now that’s just plain rude,” Alex pouted.

“No,” James said, from where he had gotten a hold of the recording, “that’s truth, I can see it clearly here in this frame.”

“Gimme,” Lafayette snatched it and snapped a picture of it, “We need to start collecting pictures to show at the wedding.”

“Oh no, you’re all going to be terrible,” Alex whined.

“No, we’re going to be helpful,” Laf corrected.

“I somehow doubt that,” Thomas sided with Alex.

In the end they did have to come back on that. Their friends were absolute champions when it came to wedding planning. Though Thomas and Alex mostly made decisions themselves, the others were all there to give second opinions or double check for them.

They had decided on a late spring/ early summer wedding, so it would take a little less than a year, before they actually got married, but wedding planning took time and Alex took great joy in the word fiance.

Thomas did too, he just didn’t want to admit it.

That summer they arrived in Monticello – as had become tradition – however, instead of the usual greetings, they were met with: “Show us the rings.”

“No, hello, how are you, long time no see, what have you been up to. Of course not, why would they ask about us instead of some shiny pieces of metal,” Thomas grumbled playfully as he and Alex were practically passed around by the family.

Alex just grinned and let them, still amazed by the family he had accumulated.

Thomas had been right back then when he had told Alex that with Ma and Mary on their side everyone was bound to like him too, but Alex had still been nervous each time he met one of Thomas’s siblings. A fear he could now hardly imagine with how comfortable he had gotten in his family, a family he would soon be officially part of.

When he got to Ma, she pulled him into a hug: “I’m so happy for the two of you, son.”

And Alex couldn't do anything, but hug back and say: “Me too, Ma, me too.”

The months came and went and soon they were sending out the wedding invitations out. It was plain white paper, with on the back the date and place as well as the instruction to come dressed in white. While the front bore a poem written in cursive:

let us live like flowers

wild and beautiful

and drenched in sun

e.e.

When the day was there, Alex was stressing in the back of the church, while Thomas was waiting in the front. Alex had offered him the position of walking down the aisle, but Thomas had declined claiming it was too much pressure and that he at least knew what to expect if he got to stand.

Thomas was wearing a beautiful tailored magenta suit made by Hercules as he nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.

The doors at the back of the church opened and first came the groomsmen and the bridesmaids. All decked out in beautiful white with accents in the colors of the bouquet, as well as flowers in their hair.

It began with Eliza and Maria, after them came James and Angelica, Lafayette and Peggy, Randy and Mary with Herc again roped into the position of flower boy, though he was helped by Kitty and Francie.

Once James, Angie, Laf, Randy and Mary had taken their places behind Thomas and Eliza, Maria Herc and Peggy on Alex’s side, the theme for Alex to walk started to play.

He was given away by Jane, who wore an elegant white 50s style dress, while Alex wore a tightly tailored emerald green suit. His hair was braided with flowers in it matching his bouquet of cluster musk rose, Christmas rose, heliotrope and hawthorn.

From the round window the sun illuminated him and Thomas’s breath caught when he saw him walk. There might have been tears, but that was a whole other thing.

Jane gave his hand to Thomas and smiled at him, before going to take her place in the audience with Kitty and Francie and the rest of the Jefferson clan.

Everyone sat and Washington appeared by Alex and Thomas’s side, ready to ordain them. Before he started Philip came down the aisle carrying the rings. He was dressed in an adorable light blue suit and his hair was tied back with a ribbon in the same color.

After he had given the rings to Washington, he stood next to Alex.

Alex had wanted to make him his best man, but since the best man had to sign as witness and Philip was too small for that, he was the ring bearer and Eliza would sign for Alex and James for Thomas, just like both had done before.

Washington started: “We’re here today to witness the union between Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson. Before this is officiated, they will say theirvows.”

“Thomas, when I first saw you I thought you were incredibly handsome and a gigantic asshole. One of my assessments has been proven entirely incorrect. You are one of the most kindhearted souls, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Alex began.

He went on: “To me you are laughter over dinner, jokes in the hallways at works, a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold like an anchor. You are sparkling eyes with crinkles that paint happiness on your features and a mouth that runs as smart as mine.”

“You know how to argue, but also when to let go,” Alex said, “You keep me on my toes, while knowing I sometimes just need to stand. I claim your arguments are shit and while that can be true, they always make me think and I love that.”

“The way you care for Philip and never asked for more than I could give, made my heart grow so fond of you that I cannot possibly picture a life wherein I do not love you,” he told him, “When I come home and see you there, I feel like I am whole.”

“According to Eliza I can’t force everyone to sit through the hundred pages I had written – even though it’s my wedding – which is rude, so I’ll try to wrap it up,” at that Thomas laughed, he could picture the scenario clearly.

“So, Thomas, you are all the little things that make life great,” Alex said, “No matter what, I want to support you and care for you, because I love you so much that it would hurt if it didn’t feel so right. I love you.”

Both were crying a bit and Alex chocked on the last three words as his hands shook while trying to put the ring on Thomas’s finger.

“Darlin’, you came into my life like a forest fire,” Thomas began, “You burned through all my arguments and notions of the world, like that was what you were meant to do. For a long time I thought you were out of control, but you proved me wrong once again.”

“You see, you’re not a forest fire,” he told Alex, “You’re a bonfire, a hearth in the heart of the home, a central place for family to gather. You make sure to keep the ones you care about warm, to illuminate them and pull them out of the darkness.”

He went on: “I always thought you talked too much, but I now know that for all your words, you know how to listen. Your smile can do as much as your words and you know how far a hug can go. The way you can be so intensely caring for the people you love is breathtaking.”

“I wanted to compare you to a thousand other things, but nothing could fully describe your beauty both within and out, which is incredibly corny, yet completely true,” he chuckled, “Anyway, this is my long winded way of telling you that I love you too.”

Now it was Thomas’s turn to struggle with the ring through the tears while behind them Washington began to speak again: “Alexander Hamilton, do you take Thomas Jefferson to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,‘till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“And Thomas Jefferson, do you take Alexander Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish‘till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Then you may now kiss the groom.”

Neither hesitated to kiss the other lovingly, while beside them the church burst out in cheers and applause.

After they broke apart, they waved at everyone as they walked out of the church, with Philip between them.

Outside they took pictures with everyone, since everyone who had come was decked out in white, the three spots of color stood out all the more.

The time came to do one with the entire family, Alex cried again as both his friends and Thomas’s relatives gathered around them. When he had gotten to America he was all alone and then he had lost part of his family again, but now he was surrounded by almost more people than he could count.

They also took one where Thomas carried Alex bridal style, something Alex and John – being around the same height – had both failed at when they had tried at their wedding. Before Thomas could do it, Alex asked with apprehension: “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve done this before, it’ll be fine,” Thomas smiled reassuringly, before literally sweeping Alex off his feet. He informed Alex of that fact and got an annoyed look in return, which was beautifully captured and framed by Angelica for on their desks at work.

The Schuyler sister insisted on taking one with Alex, because he was practically their brother anyways.

They took one with the Washingtons and Jane, a picture in which Alex had never felt so short in his entire life.

Herc and Laf, roped Randy and James into taking a picture where they carried the two groomsmen on their shoulders, something that most definitely went almost wrong on multiple occasions.

However, Alex’s favorite picture was the one where he and Thomas held Philip between them and both kissed a cheek, while Philip beamed.

Later he would hang that picture on the mantle between the other two wedding pictures, finally filling the promise that had been in the empty space.

But for now they went to the wedding venue for the reception.

When they were greeting all the guests at the reception, Burr congratulated themwith Theodosia at his side, little Theo had already disappeared with Philip, Kitty and Francie. He shook Alex’s hand: “Congratulations to both of you.”

“What a nice change to see you both here, you were even at the ceremony,” Alex grinned as he also shook Theodosia’s hand. Her smiling and congratulating them both.

“You’re never letting that go, aren’t you?” Burr sighed tiredly.

“Never,” Alex confirmed, “Good to have you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Burr waved as they disappeared into the crowd.

“What’s the story there?” Thomas asked, leaning in.

“I’ll tell you later,” Alex whispered back, before smiling and greeting the next guests.

Once everyone was there Alex and Thomas got to cut the cake. They had both agreed that neither of them would push cake into the other’s face, which meant that both ended up with cake in their face, naturally.

They mingled until dinner, when it was time for everyone’s speeches.

Thomas’s siblings all had rewritten a song from Thomas’s youth to fit the two of them and preformed it badly, but with a lot of love.

“I don’t know them,” Thomas whispered to Alex when they did that, making Alex laugh.

Jane retold embarrassing childhood from Thomas’s youth while Herc and Peggy had put together a PowerPoint of all Alex’s lowest points college and after.

Highlights included him standing on a table in a bar, tie around his head with a group surrounding him from that time he had attempted a revolution.

There was a picture of him surrounded by empty coffee cups, while he was passed out between them, face covered with sharpie.

Him with a cat on his lap, while he looked very displeased. Herc and Peggy took great joy in explaining why the cat had put that look on Alex’s face.

And it ended with the frozen frame of Alex crying – still claiming misty eyed, Pegs – while Thomas proposed to him, obviously they’d had help from Lafayette, but the Frenchman had an entire speech for them, mostly existing out of ‘I told you so’s.’

Washington had a short heartfelt speech about seeing them grow at work together as well as a few army stories about Alex.

Then Angelica stood up to give a speech: “I have to admit that when Thomas fell onto my couch over fouryears ago proclaiming that he couldn't flirt, I could not have predicted that we would be here now. Naturally I rooted for them, but you have to know that Thomas and Alex could be like water and oil at work, or maybe oil and fire would be a better description.”

A few chuckles from colleagues were heard.

“But here we are and I have seen how much you two have grown together,” Angelica went on, “Did I have to bribe and threaten you both to get that information? Maybe, but I did get to know everything.”

Thomas and Alex laughed at that.

“I remember the little humble beginnings, the tentative flirting, the first dates, the panic, the good times,” Angelica said, “And I knew you both for many years before that, I have seen you both happy and sad. And I am not the poetic one here, but I know what love looks like in your eyes and I can see it on both of your faces.”

She raised her glass: “To the grooms.”

The room echoed.

“From you friend, who is always by your side,” she went on, “To your union.”

“To your union.”

“And the family you have build,” she finished, “May you always be content and satisfied.”

She gave them both a kiss on the cheek and ignored they were all crying before she went back to her seat and Philip got to the front.

With Eliza as hypewoman, he walked in the Schuyler sister’s footsteps with a poem he had written and preformed as a rap:

“My name is Philip, I am poet

I wrote this poem just to show it

And I, can speech fine

You can find family, but you can’t find mine!

I practice French and play kite with my father

I have a Papa, and he’s a great fellow robber

My daddies tying the knot on this day, swank

Un, duex, trois, quatre, cinq!”

Everyone cheered and cooed as he ran into Alex’s arms afterwards and made himself at home on their laps as Eliza said a few words: “Alex is the speech writer between us both while I tell him it can’t be too long, so do not expect essays.”

There were chuckles around the room and Alex rolled his eyes, knowing she added that because she knew he would call her out in his vows, which she had proof read for him many times.

“But I did want to say that you’re a fighter,” she looked at Alex, “You always have been and I can see how much you’ve met your match in Thomas. I’m happy for you both.”

Alex hugged her closely and whispered: “God fucking dammit, Betsy, you’re not allowed to make me cry again on my wedding.”

She whispered back: “Like you weren’t already crying, you big baby.”

“Plausible deniability,” he sniffed.

“We’re filming it,” she smirked, before hugging Thomas as well and patting Philip on his head as she went back to her spot next to Maria.

Lastly, James got up to speak: “I am not a man of many words, so I’m keeping it short,” Thomas smirked and nodded at that, “All the times you annoyed me, Thomas, about what to do, have been worth it to see you so happy again.”

Now it was Thomas’s time to get emotional, hugging James tightly and saying: “I knew you cared,” attempting to tease and obviously failing.

“I know, a shocker,” James pretended it had worked.

After that dinner was served and everyone appreciated the dishes set out. While they ate, the whole room was alight with chatter as people talked, laughed and enjoyed themselves.

When the time came to dance, Thomas lead Alex to the tune of Hozier’s Like Real People Do. It was slightly haunting, but they had picked it, because it fit them so well. The song told the story about the singer recognizing the sadness in his lovers eyes and making them forget, focusing on the now.

As they spun, Thomas looked into Alex’s eyes with that crinkled smile and Alex nearly melted into the floor as he faltered as step.

He unknowingly retaliated, when Thomas picked him up and he beamed down. His braid had loosened slightly and a pluck of hair framed his face, while the lights gave him a halo, causing Thomas to nearly drop him.

Since there wasn’t really a father-daughter dance, Alex danced with Martha Washington, while Thomas danced with Jane. And after that, the two of them danced with Philip, the three of them laughing as they attempted it.

Throughout the night Alex danced with all the Schuyler sisters, Lafayette and Herc, while Thomas was whisked away by his own sister as well as Angelica and Lafayette.

At some point Jane took Alex’s hand and made him dance with her. Once they were on the floor, Alex smiled: “Hey, Ma, enjoying the wedding so far?”

“Immensely, sweetheart,” Jane smiled, patting his cheek, before he spun her.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” he commented.

“I’m spry for my age.”

“What age? You look not a day over thirty,” he grinned.

“Charmer,” she smiled, then said, “But I wanted to properly welcome you to the family. You’ve been a part for a long time, but still, today is a big day.”

She stopped dancing and reached into her purse. Out of it she got an old time watch with a leather arm band. As she handed it to Alex, she said: “When Thomas came out as pan to me, I prepared a wedding gift for all genders, just in case. Martha got my grandmother’s necklace, but this was my late husbands watch.”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” Alex stared at it with big eyes, he’d never had a family item.

“Maybe a thank you,” Jane grinned.

“Yeah, of course, thank you so much,” Alex hugged her, and repeated,“Thank you so much, Ma.”

She patted her cheek when he let go and said: “No problem, you’re one of us now and we don’t let go easily.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Alex smiled.

They parted ways again when the song was over and Thomas appeared at his side: “What was that about?”

Alex showed his wrist: “She gave me this.”

Thomas looked at it, then smiled sadly: “I remember that. It suits you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Thomas told him, “I also know that Lafayette and Herc are about to do what they’re calling a classic college trick at the chocolate fountain and I need you to either stop them if it’s bad or help them.”

“Oh, definitely helping,” Alex remembered this one, “Grab your phone and film it. We’ll get them back if they ever get married.”

After an eventful night with enough tomfoolery that they were probably permanently banned to ever rent a venue from that company again, they returned home.

Thomas carried Philip to bed, while Alex put away their wedding gifts. When he was done, he joined Thomas’s in Philip’s threshold.

“He’s still so young,” Thomas commented, “But he looks like when I first met him when he sleeps.”

“That’s already so long ago,” Alex hugged Thomas’s arm, leaning heavily on the other man.

“It seems crazy,” Thomas agreed.

Alex hummed, then they stood there in silence, before Alex asked: “Did you have a good day?”

“Of course, I did,” Thomas replied, then after a beat, “Though I am fucking exhausted after this, why did we invite all those people again? I hate talking to people.”

“Because we wanted to actually fill the church,” Alex grinned, “But you’re right, I could sleep for a week.”

“Well, sleeping beauty, you will have to make do to with,” Thomas checked the time, “five whole hours, then we have to catch a plane.”

“Ah, yes,” Alex said, “Paris is waiting.”

“Along with the future.”

“You fucking sap.”

“Excuse you, that’s your fucking forever sap, Mister.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Who’s the sap now?”

“Oh, shut up,” Alex said, but didn’t protest when Thomas lead him back to their bedroom. They still had a future waiting for them. ‘Till death to them part, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

Today in I try to write a natural time skip between chapters.

Me describing a scene in a botanical garden with one flower as the end goal along with a whole ass wedding with flowers, is such a struggle lmao, but that’s what I get for making flowers important.

Btw the wedding bouquet means charming (cluster musk rose), relieve my anxiety (Christmas rose), devotion/faithfulness (heliotrope) and hope (hawthorn). Fun fact: I wanted to name this chapter after heliotrope at first, but that felt a bit too cliché.

Also the bit of poetry is from ‘i saw you as a flower’I got the book! It’s so cute and I love it, I’ve never been a poetry person, but I’ve always wanted to be, so here’s to me trying stuff :D

I am never getting married for the sole reason that I do not want to write vows ever again.

Also, the wedding bouquet:

#RR writing #tw: death mention #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #philip hamilton #eliza schuyler #angelica schuyler #lafayette #marquis de lafayette #james maddison #hercules mulligan #washington #everyone kinda lmao #Jamilton #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 13 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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allkinds-oftrash · 3 years

Text

Ya girl is watching the latest HSM series ep and Imma live blog it hshshs and will add my reactions under the cut so it doesn't end up a long post. Anyways, let's goo:

AHHHH THE MORNING SHOW WITH GINA AND EJ WE LOVE TO SEE IT

They really said we're gonna let life imitate art with Nini and Olivia huh

Ricky was SUPPORTIVE??? Damnn I really thought we gonna get a classic Ricky tantrum....

But also wow sir that sounds salty and should definitely talk to someone abt how you're feeling...A therapist maybe 👀

I know we needed to contextualise how Ricky felt abt the song but I really wanted to see Nini's interview in full!!

Sebby you're so cute I do wanna see yall do DEH

Shjshshs not the rights not being available for another 5 years 😭😭

I dunno how they're in great shape and closer to the Menkies Gold after not having a single proper rehearsal, but go off Miss Jenn

Omg honestly Kourt's costumes are always amazing and on point Imma excited to see it

Kourt is such a simp we love to see it

Carlos is so pissy this episode we love to see it shshhs

Also love the way Seb calms him down and keeps him nice it's such a funny dynamic

"We had 20 people make our Belle dress over 50 hours" Okay North High shut the fuck up

I'm calling it now the reason North High knows so much is cos Howie is the leak and Kourt has been unwittingly telling him. The way her phone keeps going off as they discuss how North High knows everything is really good foreshadowing if my prediction is right

Also like her phone went off just as Carlos said "How did they know that?" THAT'S PEAK FORESHADOWING

If Howie ain't in North High, I dunno what Tim is doing

GSJAGSHAH KOURTNEY MAKING ABS FOR EJ I CANNOT

"I have abs" We know sweetie

"I PADDED THE THUSH FOR YOU" "AWW THANKS KOURT I NEEDED THAT" THIS INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS SO FUNNY!! I love that it is now canon that EJ has abs but no butt love that for him

Okay but like damn these costumes are great!! North High can fuck right off with its high end ones I just wanna see lowkey homemade costumes by students; I'd watch a Broadway show if I wanted to see professional costumes okay

Damn Carlos has killer eyesight clocking in that mask in the trunk

GINA BBY DON'T SAY THAT AND HAHSGSH NINI NUDGING HER WAS SO FUNNY

Nini's little look over at Gina was like "Omg you guys my girlfriend is so cute and dumb" GINI STANS HOW WE FEELING?

Miss Jenn don't be that naive, your boyfriend probably put them up to it

That Insta page is prophetic with their timing tbh; all the info is a leak obviously looking at your Howie but like the timing of it all. Those kiddos don't know that they are discussing the stolen mask at this exact moment (Kourt has put down her phone after Carlos snapped at her so Howie doesn't know they are talking abt it rn)

"We don't dance with the enemy" *cuts to her dancing with Zackey later*

SEBBY WEARING THE TEACUP COSTUME OMG HE'S GOING MAKE SUCH A CUTE CHIP (yes I am still mad Seb/Joe was robbed but Imma fangirl over the costume anyway)

Wtf why does North High look so expensive - they are literally in the same district as East High right??? How did they get this much funding

North High is a very artsy and rich for a public school; they should have had Nini go here instead of YAC tbh (like this campus feels like what YAC should have been) NOW THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING STORYLINE

Seblos' dynamic IS ON POINT THIS EP I really love my bois so much and their back and forth is hilarious

Shhshs DIANE who loves volleyball and North High okay I totally believe it

WHY ARE RED AND ASHLYN SO KINKY EVERY DAMN EPISODE TIM THESE ARE UNDERAGED CHARACTERS STOP IT

Shshsh we love Gina knowing herself and practicing self control by volunteering to be the lookout

Omg yall listen to Carlos and stfu they are so lucky no one saw or heard them yelling Wildcats

Oh no no no no no Miss Jenn you gonna get sucked in; this is gonna be so messy

Omg I saw someone post about this scene before I watched the ep YALL ARE RIGHT THAT BOI HITTING ON GINA IS SO FINE Babes go for that one, not EJ

NOT THEM FAKE DATING UGH E W TIM STOP MAKING ROMANTIC PORTWELL A T H I N G I honestly do not understand how some of yall can ship it romantically knowing Sofia is a whole underaged babey and Matty is a whole ass grown man - like I get the appeal of the Wonderstudies getting together and they do have chemistry but the irl age gap is creepy and outweighs the appeal of shipping them romantically

As I always say; Portwell/Wonderstudies should be a BROTP not an OTP

Ugh Brotp Portwell would have clocked Lily right away; romantic Portwell making googly eyes at each other isn't helping anyone

Living for Nini getting the recognition she deserves - I really like her solo arc this season she's so much more interesting without Ricky tbh

Aww Kourt you simp I love her and I'm so happy she's happy I wanna be wrong about Howie being a North High kid

Where is the mask??

OHMYGOD THESE KIDS COMING IN LIKE A HORROR MOVIE

Lily really wishes she was Jesse St. James huh; you could never Lily so stop

Andrew Barth Feldman and his cute little French accent I love him so much

Hnng Miss Jenn gonna get manipulated by this hoe. Omg wowow Zackey really is a hoe, making out with another girl before the show THE AUDACITY OF HIM SAYING MISS JENN WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH I WILL THROW HANDS WITH THIS MOFO

Wait the kids didn't steal it BUT WHAT IF ZACKEY DID

Ssjsgfajhdfg I CANNOT WITH ANDREW'S ACCENT but I can't tell if its really bad or really good but I'm also confused why didn't they just cast a French person as Antonie shshhs Antoine is adorableee and a little shit the best type of character

Lily is so annoying b y e sis bye and Olivia Keegan is talented I just wish they didn't make her character such a cartoony villain type

"How about if we bop to the top" SEBBY I LOVE YOU AND NEVER STOP BEING SO CUTE I SWEAR and Awww Carlos called him Honey I am s o f t

Hnng why do these fools are really gonna give into North High calling them chickens

OHHH NO SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT ASHLYN FUCK A DANCE OFF I AM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS WITH A 16 YEAR OLD

"She told us not to dance with the enemy. She's better than this" No Sebby, she's not *cuts to her dancing with Zackey* AND OMG THE WAY I SAW THIS EDIT COMING BEFORE IT CAME

Ooooh I like this song wayyy more whatever the mess The Mob Song became (when I first heard it drop on Spotify yesterday) Around You is such a great song musically and lyrically very relevant to these two and gosh I love their voices together

They have so much chemistry damn, go home Mike (well he technically has oop) and Mr. Mazzara

YES YOU DO MISS JENN YOU ALWAYS HAD IT

Oh god this is the scene from the trailer; she's gonna make a move on Ricky isn't she?? Leave him alone Lily he doesn't need a 3rd girl to be confused about he needs a therapist

Lily shut the fuck up with quasi; STOP TRYING TO MAKE QUASI HAPPEN

"I love Nini's song" Sure, Jan.

...Okay yes you should have called him out but don't bait him LIKE THAT oop there's the scene from the trailer

Ohmygod is Andrew Barth Feldman gonna hit on Ashlyn

Okay this is so cute but also I am VERY annoyed with the way this show handles its characters like they aren't relevant or important unless they get into a relationship or a love triangle?? That's such a shitty way to give out screentime and arcs to characters. Is it not enough to develop the characters on their own and strengthen their friendship???

HUH TIM why you so obsessed with compulsory heterosexuality??(well also homosexuality for Seblos but they are the only ones I'm not annoyed with their relationship cos its a hella big step for Disney to have a gay couple and their relationship isn't in our faces or overshadows the plot and its just spinkles of cuteness every time they interact - they are honestly who Rini wishes they were; besties in love. They are a couple that Tim should be taking notes from; leave the relationship drama in the background, focus on the theatre and friendship aspect of everything)

My mini rant aside; this is a very adorable interaction between Ashlyn and Antoine.

"TOM HOLLAND ON STILTS" GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT COMPARISON I AM SCREAMING ANTOINE THAT'S SO FUNNY

This is so funny he keeps picking out the hottest guys of the group; as if he himself isn't the French version of Big Red they look super alike ngl shshsh

WHY YOU RUIN IT WITH THAT ANTOINE I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU

Drama between Antoine and Red is already spicing up shshsh I cannot

Why are you so dramatic with the shuffle Lily gtfo of here...also this doesn't make sense?? She wasn't even on a BATB playlist; what if a non BATB song came on ahahah

Good to know they aren't big fans of The Mob Song like I am Awww EJ you cutie, okay I will appreciate the OG Mob Song just for you

OH WAIT HE PROLLY LIKES IT COS ITS A GASTON LED SONG TIM GIMME THE EJ SOLO I DESERVE IN THIS NUMBER

I'm being robbed of Gaston for the last 7 eps I at least deserve an EJ solo for compensation

The way the set looks straight out of Broadway but also like omg the blue lighting and fancy stage gave me intense flashbacks to that Glee episode where Vocal Adrenaline sang Bohemian Rhapsody

RICKY STOP BEING SALTY AND ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

OMG THE SUBTITLES SAID ITS HOWIE SINGING AS THE BEAST I FUCKING CALLED IT

Howie you hoe you gonna break my girl Kourtney's heart

Yeah...still not a fan of Antoine's Dance Remix

Yall know Gina would kill the dance number if she wasn't wearing that fit

Okay but it's Gaston led song WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT EJ HAVE A SOLO IN THIS SONG??

First the Beasts led it (Howie sounded better than Ricky ngl), then the Lumieres (their voices worked hella well together; I always forget what a talented singer Frankie is THEY NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOLO SONG) and now the Belles are going at it (Ashlyn's voice is superior)

BIG RED BEING JEALOUS AND SALTY IS SO FUNNY ITS LIKE A PUPPY BEING ANGRY I CRI

...Did anyone really win, Lily??? STFU

CARLOS IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT

Oooh I did see someone talk about this when the Rose Song dropped last week, apparently its illegal to add songs to a musical you're doing for a school play; I really thought the show would brush past that irl rule but I guess they are playing into it

THE WAY EVERYONE TURNED TO EJ FOR THE SPORTS METAPHOR I AM D Y I N G AND HIS FACE WAS GOLDEN! ITS LIKE THAT LISA SIMPSON MEME SHHSHSH

Okay Nini is being a little pissy about leaving her song out of the show and its a little selfish to wanna keep it at the risk of being disqualified but I also understand why she's hurt

Everyone is dog piling on her right now being against her idea and it feels like they are being against her song and her herself instead of them not wanting to be disqualified. Also like she poured her heart and soul into the song after Miss Jenn lowkey rushed her to write it. So I can see why this feels like a rejection of her and her song and why she's so hurt rather than her seeing the big picture right now

It doesn't help that Ricky said the final blow causing her to walk off

Okay maybe Zackey gets some rights for being chill and wanting the kids to be peers

THIS MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW HE WAS SHADY Also the way I gasped even though I predicted he stole the mask halfway through this ep shshsh

Stab him Miss Jenn STAB HIM

Bitch why you so threatened by East High if yall have such a Broadway-esque show planned??? They honestly should have stuck to the Little Mermaid; I really wanted to see the aquarium

"It's just a song Ricky" "A song can mean everything" Do you get deja vu? Anyone else getting intense flashbacks to Jan when DL first dropped and all the drama happened 👀

YES PLEASE STAY CO ANCHORS Gosh I love them so much esp once you take the romantic connotations out of their interactions

ROUGE GRAND I'M SCREAMING

I love this long take of checking in with everyone's relationship status (still hate how romantically focused this show has become but still a cool shot)

I K N E W IT I WAS RIGHT

Okay but like looking at Kourtney's face I have never wanted to be wrong so bad GOD I HATE IT HERE I really think he likes her and I hope they work it out

Nini setting up her own music acc feels like when Olivia rebranded her whole IG to be just for her music stuff - love this for both of them

AHHHHH SHE'S NINA NOW YALL

I know everyone loves her as Nini but like I have always loved the name Nina and it really suits her to be honest also shows how she's growing up now and kind of leans into the lyric "I won't be confined to your point of view" from The Rose Song because Nini is the nickname Ricky gave her so it shows that she's outgrowing him too and I love that for her!

Overall thoughts; they really crammed all the North High drama into one ep huh. Personally would have liked it if all of this was spread out throughout the last few episodes; like different hijinks for every episode. I'm just a big fan of properly setting up the overall arc over the season instead of patching it together closer to the climax/end of the show. Cos now it lowkey feels like two different seasons - 2A felt like The Rini/Rina Show esp with YAC storyline and whatever was going on with Rina and now 2B is finally feeling like what this season should have been all this time

#hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts #hsmtmts spoilers #nina salazar roberts #gina porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Kourtney Green #Ashlyn Caswell #Seb Matthew Smith #carlos rodriguez #Big Red

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mythrilhusk · 4 years

Text

Korosensei Never Dies - Chapter 3

Words: ~2600 Chapter 2 (Last) AO3 Version Chapter 4 (Next)

Quackity stumbles into the classroom, exhaustion dragging on his eyes. The silence of the room almost deafens him. He yawns and slouches into the desk beside Sapnap's. "Sup, mothers and fuckers of the court."

"And they have the gall to call me late." Technoblade sighs. "Quackity, you missed first period."

"Just get on with the motherfucking class." Quackity grumbles, his head on the desk. And when did he get so comfortable with talking back? He wonders about it briefly, then scrunches his eyes and tries to block out the oceans of hatred beating through his skin.

"You good, mate?" An unfamiliar voice chuckles from the front of the class.

Quackity looks up at the new guy- two new guys. "Who the fuck are you?"

"This is Philza." Technoblade's dry tone almost hides the notes of fondness. "He'll be teaching you how to kill me."

"The lessons will be applicable in later life, I guarantee." The skinny man with ragged blond hair must be Philza. He slouches unconcernedly beside the other, heavily armed, fellow. "Oh, and this is Punz. He's my guard. He'll help me with demonstrations."

"However, the deal is that you will all attempt to at least get a C in every class." Technoblade adds.

"Who agreed to that fucking shitass deal??" Quackity cries. "You think we couldn't get A's if we tried?? None of us give a fuck about school, that's why Puffy stuffed us all together here!"

"Hm. You make a good point, Quackity. Get all A's in every class by the end of the first semester, and Philza here will tutor you in the art of assassination."

Quackity feels his fellow students glaring at him. "It's a fucking deal, baby! You're as good as dead!" This, added to Bad's smuggled weapons, should be enough to level the playing field.

Lunchtime rolls around, and Quackity learns from Sapnap that Punz and Philza have been employed by the school ostensibly to teach extracurriculars like Sociology and Martial Arts. He demolishes his food as Sapnap and Foolish argue over the best way to go about attacking Technoblade with their new weapons.

At the front of the class, Technoblade cleans off the whiteboard. Hannah Rose, the only girl in class 3-E, sits alone at her desk. Quackity watches her for a moment, considering whether he should let her join his group or not.

His mind is just about made up to beckon her over when she stands up and produces a second lunchbox and thermos from her backpack. Placing both on Technoblade's desk, she scrawls a little note, and then returns to her seat.

Technoblade turns around, sees the food and tea, and makes a little "Heh?" sound of confusion. Quackity glowers at Rose. She tilts her head and glances at him with a mysterious smile.

The rest of the day passes as uneventfully as it possibly could with having a terrorist, hostage, and military guard as teachers. Punz has declared his intent to teach Mathematics for the rest of the year after Technoblade started ranting about the economy while attempting to explain trigonometry. Quackity has a feeling the rant was partially a bait for that very purpose, but then again, he's grown used to Technoblade's rambling segways from the actual topic of discussion.

The situation has started to feel almost normal. A simple fact of life. The truth is that people adapt to their environments. As Quackity follows Sapnap out of the classroom, he shoots one last glare at Technoblade, almost a tradition of sorts.

Technoblade meets his eyes and gives him a subtle nod before returning his attention to whatever Philza is on about. Quackity scoffs and hurries to catch up to his friends.

Clubs have started to form for the year. But, cut off from the rest of the highschool by both merit of their reputations as delinquents and the threat of their teacher, class 3-E can't join in any official clubs. So they've made their own.

The Ducklings plus Charlie have formed the Prank club. Tommy, Tubbo, Eret, and Wilbur made the Theatre club. Ranboo and Rose remain separately aloof. Foolish reports to Quackity that Rose disappeared into the Chemistry lab a bit ago, and Ranboo has just been wandering the forest line surrounding the building.

Charlie, as Head Prankster, proposes going over to the main grounds and pranking the other classes. The Ducklings agree on the condition they steal Karl from his club.

When they reach the main grounds of the high school, a mile away from the secluded building for class 3-E, Connor whines about his twisted ankle as Foolish carries him. Quackity drags his feet on the clean linoleum, smirking at the disdainful glances of passing students.

"Well, if it isn't the loser class." Jack Manifold crosses his arms and stands in the middle of the hallway. "Come to beg for scraps, have you?"

"Out of our way, Jack." Charlie snarls.

Jack adjusts his heterochromatic sunglasses. "Niki and I have a proposition."

"What the fuck do you assholes want with us?"

"Give us a cut of the money when you kill that dumb teacher and we'll help you study for college admissions. Win-win." Jack grins.

Quackity gestures for his gang to discuss. "Yo, we don't need that prick."

Sapnap nods. "We're already splitting the winnings with Bad, we don't need another reduction."

"Wait, who's Bad??" Charlie hisses. Quackity shoves him out of the circle.

"We could always take the help and then not pay him. Like, as a prank." Foolish suggests.

"Good idea. In favor?"

Connor and Sapnap agree. The motion passes.

"Alright, Jack, we'll fucking take it."

"Nice. Okay, we want fifty percent of the bounty in return for our splendid, magnanimous help." Jack puffs out his chest.

"Deal." Quackity spits in his hand and holds it out for Jack to shake. The boy looks disgusted.

"Ew, I'm not touching that."

"Deal or no deal?" Quackity grins, watching Jack squirm.

"For the love of Newton, Jack!" Niki Nihachu storms out of the nearby empty classroom, her pink hair pinned up in a messy bun. "It's a deal." She spits on her own hand and takes Quackity's without flinching.

"Great, now piss off. We have club business to attend to." Quackity shoulders past Jack, and his club follows.

"How are you planning to kill the Blade??" Niki trots to keep up.

"Secret."

"I want to kill him, too!"

"Join the fucking club."

"Rude! I'm offering help!"

Quackity shrugs at her. "I just told you, join the club. Fail your classes to get transferred into 3-E, then we'll talk."

"I- I will!" Niki cries, then storms back to Jack and drags him away.

++++

"Can I kill him for you?"

Philza glances at the mercenary guard in question. "Mate." He chuckles darkly. "I won't stop you, but he could be useful."

Punz, oblivious to Techno's bloodlust, cleans up the shattered glass on the scorched floor of the Chemistry lab as one of the students cries in a corner. Fake. Philza can spot crocodile tears from a mile away.

"Techno, you didn't eat the lunch she gave you, did you?"

Techno shrugs. "It was a good attempt. Five stars."

Philza laughs a bit. "What's arsenic taste like, then?"

Technoblade glances at the crying girl. "Eh, nothing much."

The girl sobs harder, clearly attempting to play the sympathy card. "I- I didn't p-poison it, it wasn't m-mine." Lies. All lies.

"K." Techno scratches his head and turns away, uncomfortable with the tears.

A knife whistles through the air and buries in Techno's shoulder. He gasps a pained, "Heh??" And he grips the smoke wound as the metal melts and sizzles.

"Techno? You good, mate?"

Keen steel digs into his back. "Don't move." Rose says, adrenaline making her voice tremble.

Punz laughs in the background. "Nice job, kiddo. Now, twist one arm behind his back, and force him to back away from the Blade."

Philza sighs as Rose does as Punz ordered. "Rose, mate, you don't want to be a murderer."

"You won't be my first kill." Rose retorts in a tremulous attempt at a cold voice.

"Technoblade, hands up." Punz comes around in Philza's peripheral vision. "Try anything and my associate will stab the old man."

"Hey!" Philza cries. "Watch your tongue, motherfucker, I'm not fucking old!" He just could kill the girl and let Techno take out Punz, but Techno has already told him to leave the students alone.

"Phil?" Techno says in a low, furious voice. His wound has already healed. "I'll take care of this." The blade against Philza's skin trembles, then steadies.

Punz smirks and draws his gun. "You'll take care of this, will you? I've got the biggest payday of my life waiting for your death."

"You've caused enough suffering." Rose snarls. "It ends here."

"Phil is innocent. Let him go." Technoblade growls.

"Not unless you let us kill you. You made a big mistake, and now you're going to pay."

"And we're going to get paid!" Rose laughs.

"Rose, kid, let go and run before you get hurt." Philza warns.

"That would be smart, yes." Techno remains motionless.

"Stay there, Rose." Punz snaps. "Don't move. We've got them."

"Ha, the only thing stopping me from punting both of you into the sun is Techno." Phil yawns.

"I could kill you!" Rose presses the dagger between Philza's shoulderblades. "Don't try me."

"If you kill him, what's stopping me from killing both of you?" Techno muses. "Rose, let Phil go, get outta here, and I'll forget this ever happened."

"Don't listen to him." Punz urges.

"You don't stand a chance, buddy." Philza grins mockingly at Punz. This is exciting. Philza hasn't felt so alive since he was burning down cathedrals with Techno.

A smoke grenade drops in-between the four. It shudders on the ground. Philza barks to startle Punz and Rose, "Scatter!"

Punz leaps away. Techno jumps for Phil. Rose lets go and shoves Phil into Techno. Smoke poofs out and fills the entire room.

Techno throws Philza over his shoulder and storms for the door as Phil coughs out the burning air. As they reach clear air, Philza laughs. "Not even close, ey, mate?"

Techno's eyes are dark as he growls, "Never again." A threat. A promise.

++++

Ranboo stares at his empty hands. The smell of smoke lingers on his clothes. What was he doing? He can't remember. That's nothing new, though. He doesn't want to remember.

He staggers shakily through the forest, unable to recall why he's here. Why is he here, so near the school? He opens his book and flips to page two, the day Technoblade joined the school. Right, right, he's supposed to be helping everyone kill Techno.

Was that what he was doing? He can't remember.

++++

"Alright, nerds." Technoblade slams a fist on his desk. The chatter abruptly ceases, leaving the air tense and cold. "If anybody, and I mean anybody, so much as looks at Philza the wrong way, so much as harms one hair on his head, I punt first and ask no questions ever."

He doesn't even glance at her, but Hannah Rose shrinks in her chair anyway, regretting ever choosing the front row for her seat assignment. She could have done it, she could have gotten rid of Technoblade, if it weren't for the damn smoke bomb.

"Who teh fuck tried to kill Philza??" Tommy cries, somehow sounding more incensed than Technoblade.

"Punz." Technoblade replies. Rose frowns in confusion. Why wouldn't he tell them about her involvement? He certainly has no reason to hide it.

"I'll kill him!!" Tommy barks, gesturing with his knife haphazardly. "Where is he??"

"He met an unfortunate accident and is now recovering in the hospital." Technoblade deadpans.

Rose wonders if she should feel bad that her former partner got hurt. She doesn't. He wasn't a friend, he was a business associate. He even blamed her for the failure of their attempt. So fuck him.

"Good. Serves the fucker right." Wilbur hums. "Philza, we're going to try to kill your friend, sorry, but you're safe with us."

"Killing friends is not cool, Wilbur, I'm trying to be cool." Tommy complains, brushing back his hair.

"Tommy, we kinda need to kill Techno. Again, sorry about that, Philza."

"Fuck you, bitch!" Tommy retorts.

"Kids, kids. Chill." Philza chuckles. He smiles at Rose for a moment, then turns his attention back to Tommy and Wilbur, who have devolved into slapping each other with notebooks. The look leaves her confused and angry. She was going to kill him. Why isn't he respecting that??

"Tubbo, please sit between your friends so they stop hitting each other." Philza snaps as the playfight grows louder.

"With pleasure." Tubbo grins.

A few minutes into the start of class, Tommy yelps. "Tubbo!!"

"Wilbur paid me to."

A few minutes later, Wilbur cries, "Ow, hey!"

"Tommy paid me more."

Rose snaps and turns around, leveling a glare at Tubbo. "How much do I need to pay you to make your friends shut the hell up??"

"Ten." Tubbo holds out his hand. Rose stuffs a tenner in his hand and turns back around, huffing.

"T-Tubbo, put away the duck tape!!" Tommy cries. "Eret, no, don't help him, help me!! Phiiilza!!"

"Kids, will you just shut up and fucking learn something??"

Hannah spots Quackity in the third row, sitting beside Sapnap and glaring up at Technoblade. He hasn't spoken once the entire time.

A movement from Ranboo catches her gaze from all the way in the back of the class, beside the window. He smiles nervously, not meeting her eyes as he stuffs a kitty-decor notebook back into his backpack. She's seen him with it often, in every class, and it doesn't seem to be for regular notes. She saw the cover once. It was marked 'Do Not Read', which only makes her want to read it.

"Hey, Rose." Eret steals her attention with a wave. "I heard you know martial arts. Can you teach me?"

++++

Ponk grumbles to himself as he strides up the stairs to the small, rundown building that houses class 3-E. He was supposed to begin teaching here at the start of the year, but he got delayed by family issues. His substitute should be gone by now, but if they aren't, he'll get rid of them soon enough.

He opens the door to absolute chaos. Two kids are firing guns at the substitute teacher, who just sits there and takes it as he munches a sandwich. Another man demonstrates to a small group the correct method for throwing knives. Still others are crowded in the center of circled desks and wrestling as a girl criticizes their techniques. And in the back corner, scrawling in a notebook, is the only normal person there. Ponk makes a beeline for him.

"Hey." Ponk sits beside the normal person.

"Hey." The normal person replies in a growly and annoyed voice.

"What's with the chaos?"

"You get used to it."

"Oh. I don't think I want to."

The ?normal? person looks at Ponk's forehead. "Then leave."

Ponk shivers and excuses himself hastily.

But before he reaches the door, he stops himself. No. He's not going to give in so easily. He's the teacher here. When the gunfire ceases to reload, Ponk storms up to the substitute and slams his boot on the- on his desk. "Out of my seat."

"Nah."

Ponk stares at the piggy-mutant man. "What the hell, man? What are you??"

"Some would say I'm death incarnate." The man says in a tired voice.

"Would they, really??"

"Nah. They're already dead."

Ponk glowers. "I'm the teacher here."

"K. Ponk, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Right. Well, hate to break it to you, but I'm the head teacher now. I guess you can help out, though. Not that I need help."

"Right." Ponk groans.

"How good are you at teaching math?"

Chapter 4 (Next)

#ranboo #technoblade #philza #quackity #hannahxxrose #ponk #punz #fanfiction #dream smp au #ao3 link #tw violence #tw threats #no ship

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goldandbluesmiles · 4 years

Text

Unwavering.

Summary: Bruce has a near-death experience and becomes a guest to some familiar figures.

Ao3

Part of my btafam flufftober2020

Note: Written for a prompt by @bane-rights-writes Hope I did it justice! Also tagging @fictionalguystalker cause they asked. Hope you enjoy!

Unwavering.

That's how they described him.

It didn't matter if he was Bruce, Batman, or even Brucie. A father, a son, a friend, a hero, a businessman and or an airhead. Unwavering, or some synonym, always came up in a conversation when describing him.

Batman was unwavering in his support, in his justice, in his ideals.

Bruce was unwavering with his faith, kindness and dedication.

Brucie could hold a room at the edge while tipsy on champagne.

Unwavering. That's what it was.

The hero was unwaveringly steadfast. The father was unwaveringly devoted. The son was similarly loyal. The businessman was dedicated to a fault. The airhead was always reaching out, whether it was good for him or not. The friend was always there, even when you weren't aware.

Unwaveringly. That was just how he did things.

At least, that was how it had been.

And then Robin fell and Bruce lost his baby.

These days Batman was violent. The hero had started to disappear in smoke. The father had become distant and the son was barely there enough to say a word. The businessman was becoming a mess and the party boy everyone knew had retreated into a shell. The friend had disappeared and Bruce Wayne seemed to be walking empty.

The man knew he had to do something, he knew he was hurting them, all of them. He knew his son would have been ashamed.

He just...The darkness was just so much easier.

xxx

Batman should have seen the hit coming but he was tired and angry and not thinking straight.

Joker goons. All dressed like their psychotic master.

Batman hadn't been paying proper attention, he had slipped, maybe by accident and maybe on purpose but he did slip. When the thug behind him came with a lead pipe, there was no one there to watch his back.

If he had stayed awake, he would have felt that pipe, and many more, beating into him. He would have heard Agent A's voice begging him to get up and then promising to rescue him.

Instead, he was already far far away.

xxx

Bruce woke up slowly, almost like he was emerging from still tar. The first thing that came into view were treetops, a little bit of blue sky peeking through.

Getting his bearings right, Bruce gingerly sat up. Looking around he could see that he was in a place with a lot of trees and on further analyzation a very familiar place with a lot of trees.

The woods behind the lake house.

Bruce remembered running out here once and getting lost. The sun had been setting, the winter evening turning frigid and he had been so scared that he would never find his way back to his parents again.

His father had found him though, had picked him up and held him close and shushed him all the way back to the lake house. There, his mother had also hugged him and they had all sat down to drink hot chocolate by the fire.

It was one of Bruce's earliest memories.

In the present, he got up and started to walk in the lake house's direction by memory. He had taken the path so many times, some alone and some with his boys, that his feet knew where to go by their own volition.

As he neared the edge of the woods, he heard the sweet sound of a child's laugh. A very familiar laugh.

Hurrying so much that he was practically running, Bruce quickly made his way to the edge of the woods and froze.

From where he was standing, he had a clear view of the back porch.

A steady beam of sunlight seemed to be falling on the building. On the porch, there was a small round table for three with lemonade and biscuits. Just off the porch, there was a woman dancing with a young boy, both their laughter mixing together though the child was much louder.

"Mom," he whispered, scarcely believing his eyes and ears, "Jason,"

"Yes, son," murmured a voice from beside him, "It is them,"

He whirled around and nearly dropped from shock.

"Dad," he said softly

Thomas Wayne stood there in all his glory, full head of hair, bushy mustache, vibrant blue eyes and the suit he had been wearing on the night he had died. Not looking a day over, thirty-six.

"Hey, Kiddo,"

Bruce sobbed and practically collapsed into his father's arms. Thomas held him close, gently shushing him and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

"It's alright, Bruce. It's alright,"

"Dad," he whispered

"Dad!" called out another voice

Bruce jerked out of his father's arms just in time to catch a small bundle flying toward him. He hugged his son close to him, holding him so he was being crushed to his chest.

"Jaylad, Jay, my baby," he cried, "You're here Jason, you're here,"

"'Course I'm here, ya big boob. Stop ya whinin' and hug your ma,"

Bruce smiled and still holding on to his boy, he turned to Martha Wayne. His mom gave him a soft look before engulfing him in her arms.

"Oh my boy," she murmured, "How you have grown. Alfred did a wonderful job with you,"

"Yeah," he murmured into her shoulder, "Yeah. He did,"

"Come sit," she told him mas she pulled away

Bruce swung Jason onto his back making the boy giggle and shriek. They all headed toward the table where Bruce kneeled in front of his son.

"I'm so sorry, Jaylad," he whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough,"

Jason tilted his head in confusion.

"Dunno what you're sayin' Bruce," said Jason, "I'm gonna grab another glass,"

With that, the boy turned and ran inside.

"Come sit," said Thomas, gesturing toward the table

"So, tell us," said Martha as they sat down, "How have you been?"

"That's a long, complicated story, mom," said Bruce

"Tell us,"

He started from his teenage years, narrating his school experience, good and bad, an edited version of his travels, his time as Batman, adopting Dick, adopting Jason. Somewhere between all that, Jason had come back and climbed into Bruce's lap. It was a little awkward considering that Jason wasn't as small as he used to be when he was a young boy but Bruce made it work. He wasn't about to let his son go.

Bruce ended his story before he got to the part about Jason's death. If his boy wanted to ignore it, he would too.

"Colourful life you've had," said Thomas

"Yes, it has been," said Bruce smiling down at Jason, the sunlight starting to make him drowsy.

"I think you still have many years to live that colourful life," said Martha, voice even so gentle

He held Jason close, though the boy didn't seem to notice, staring off into the distance.

"I want to stay,"

"You don't belong here," said Thomas

Bruce could feel his desperation clawing at his insides.

"But I- I really wanna stay, Dad," he said

"Jason," his mother said gently, "Come here,"

Bruce tried to grab the boy but he sprang away from him and straight into Martha's arms. She stood up and took him off the porch, where they started to dance again to a tune only they could hear.

"You have to go back," said Thomas

"But why?" whispered Bruce, "It's so peaceful here,"

"But isn't there someone else waiting for you,"

Someone else.

Bruce

That sounded like-

Bruce, please.

Oh god.

I still need you, B.

Dick

I'm so sorry Bruce. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'll be better.

Nonononono. Dick.

"Go, son," murmured Thomas, "We'll be fine,"

Bruce stood up and bolted from the table. Jason waved to him as he ran by an ad he stopped long enough to give him son a hug.

"I love you," he whispered to him

"Run along, ya big boob,"

Bruce ran back into the forest where he had woken. As he went past the trees, they seemed to disappear, turning into wisps of nothing.

Bruce, please wake up.

The darkness seemed to be growing around him but Brue didn't care. He kept following the voice.

I love you, B.

Out of the darkness that had not surrounded him, a small beam of light appeared.

Dad.

"Dick,"

xxx

Dick had lost track of how long he had been sitting there, saying things as if they would bring Bruce out of his comma. Alfred was hopeful. Leslie had taken off the oxygen when Bruce had started breathing on his own, telling them that it was a good sign. However, it had been five days and the man still hadn't woken up.

Dick had barely left his side alternating between telling him funny stories and begging for him to wake up. After the first day, Alfred had put his foot down and made a schedule for him so he could take care of himself. According to said schedule, it was now time for him to get up and take a walk in the garden.

Not wanting to upset the man, especially when he had so much on his mind already, Dick started to get up, squeezing Bruce's hand as he did so.

Except for this time, Bruce squeezed back.

Dick stilled. had he imagined-no there it was again.

"Dad," he said, "Dad,"

Bruce stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

"Dick,"

Dick could have cried from relief.

"Yes, yes it's me, B," he said

"Dick," Bruce repeated, eyes coming to focus on him

"Yeah," whispered Dick, squeezing his hand, "Let me just call Alfred,"

Alfred was called and came down as fast as he could. He checked the man over and deemed him fit and fine.

"Don't you scare me like that again, my boy," said Alfred

Bruce, who now seemed much more present, smiled, "I'm sorry, Alfie,"

"Hmm," murmured Alfred, "Well, I have some calls to make and I am sure you two would like some time alone,"

Dick sat down and took Bruce's hand again.

"You really scared me, B,"

Bruce looked at him for a few moments and then smiled sadly.

"I haven't been a really good paren have I?"

Dick stilled, "No, Bruce I didn't mean- I mean I'm an adult now and-"

"Dick," he murmured squeezing his hand gently, "I know I haven't been great. I'm gonna change that,"

"You were grieving," said Dick

"So were you," returned Bruce, "I should have listened to you. I'm going to change some things now. I'm gonna talk to Dinah and get help and I'm gonna get better and I will try harder to be a better dad. I promise I will try,"

"Wow," said Dick, tears springing up in his eyes, "Must have been some hit to the head,"

Bruce smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

"You have no idea," he sid into Dick's shoulder

Dick didn't know what that meant and at the moment he didn't care, he was just glad to be hugging his dad again, feeling light the first time in months.

xxx

Batman, Bruce, Brucie Wayne.

The father, the son, the hero, the friend, the businessman and the airhead party boy.

Take him in any form and the man was unwavering in his own way.

He hadn't been for a while though. Not since his little bird fell and he lost a son.

But maybe, just maybe, with a little motivation and a little more help, he could be again.

Just maybe.

#flufftober2020 #bruce wayne #Jason Todd #batman #batdad #dick grayson #unwavering

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iwrestlenow · 3 years

Text

It All Starts And Ends With You, Chapter One (Stories from THE EMERALD)

TITLE: It All Starts And Ends With You, Chapter 1

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: The nature of a drake, human versus dragon, isn't just tragic backstory. The supernatural halfbreeds are a living duality, two creatures in one skin. Every drake is, essentially, a twin soul.

Unlike most twin souls with a Necromatic match, however, a drake can choose.

For Janus, giving Patton his human soul was easy...but a secret from his past means that his choice has consequences...consequences he was never supposed to face, because Patton would never be free.

So much for a sure thing.

SHIPS: Moceit (Patton/Janus), Dragon Witch/Original Male Character and background Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: Future smut--warnings for all pertinent chapters will be posted.

...so apparently there's going to be a few side stories in this series? This takes place shortly after MANY MORE TO DIE, but it's not the big sequel. It's very much a side quest type thing because Janus Has Backstory and I Have Moceit Feels(TM). XD

Also, later on there WILL be smut in this story, but the chapters will be labeled--and I'm planning to make them skippable if I can. Otherwise I'll summarize plotty things in the end notes. So you filthy minded animals can have your debauchery, and those less inclined can still have all of my feels. :P

Per usual, unbeta'd self indulgent drivel, all mistakes are mine. ONWARD TO SHIPPYTOWN!

Also located at AO3 over here.

1019, A.A.

“Jay! A word?”

Eleven year old Janus Ormor looked up from the book he was reading on the floor of their living chamber. Father was captain of the guard, and as such they had better quarters in the palace than some other soldiers—shutters on the windows, softer beds, and the rug in their living chamber was far more comfortable than his bed, especially with a fire going.

Janus always had trouble staying warm—which never seemed right, since he was half dragon, but if Father wasn't worried then neither was Janus.

Marking his place carefully, Janus set his book aside and got to his feet so he could dash across the room to crawl into his father's lap. Yeah, it was kind of juvenile—he was eleven, Shadow's sake—but Father ran hot, and Janus was not above stealing a little of that warmth from him.

Knowing that, Timothy Ormor smiled and loosened the top couple buttons on his collar, allowing Janus to press his forehead to the curve of his neck as he crowded close with a satisfied sigh.

“What's going on, Father?”

“Nothing, really, just...well, your birthday is in a couple days.”

“Uh huh! I'm really excited! I love surprise parties.”

“How did...”

Janus looked up at his father with a smile, earning one in return. Father finally laughed, shaking his head.

“Sometimes I forget how good your ears are, wriggle worm.” Father sighed, tugging Janus closer. “No matter—yes, we're throwing you a surprise party. Think you can pretend?”

“I'm real good at pretending!” Janus assured him before cuddling up to Father's chest again.

“Well, that's good...but, uh...we need to talk 'bout something else.”

“What's that, Father?”

“Well...you know the story I told you about how you were born?”

Janus nodded, tucking his head against Father's neck again. “You and Mother loved each other very much, so you--”

“Not that part, imp!”

Giggling, Janus continued.

“--after Mother found out she was with child, you guys let me be born in the way of the dragons: she changed form, carried me for a year, and I was hatched a few weeks after the egg came. I didn't get my human form until I was a month old.”

“Well...that's the thing, kiddo...Shadow's Balls, there's no easy way to say this...”

“Say what, Father?”

“I...damn it, but I promised her you'd know your people. Thing is, Jan...your mother didn't have you with me.”

Janus felt his stomach get cold inside.

“What do you mean? You...you're my father.”

Timothy ran a hand through his son's hair, staring into his bright and confused little face. He wasn't overly fair, but his jet black hair washed out his complexion some, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.

He was so easily mistaken for human with that beautiful face—until he heard things no child his age should. Until he stuck his hand in a fire and came away unburnt. Until he grew slow and lethargic in the cold...until those dark eyes bled yellow as daffodils, pupils lengthening into reptilian slits.

“I'm your dad, wriggle worm,” Timothy confessed, “but the truth is...I'm not actually your father.”

********** 1033, A.A.

“Sneak attack!”

Janus dropped his book as Patton rushed straight at him, flinging himself into Janus's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck to squeeze tight.

“I could see you coming, sweetie.” Janus pointed out with a sigh that didn't match the fierce swell of affection in his chest, hot and restless, compelling him to hold Patton in return with arms wrapped carefully around his waist.

Patton's giggle, right in his ear, sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. “But you didn't know I was gonna hug you!”

“Your arms were open for one.”

“So?”

“You also do this at least three times a day.”

“Only because you said four was too many!”

Patton drew back to pout at him this time, and that hot swell of affection stretched in his chest to the point of pain. Since Mori's death and Roman's installment as regent until the coronation, Logan and Patton had been given free reign of the castle, along with a few other Necromata prisoners the pair had vetted. Until their freedom was voted on by the citizens, they couldn't be released, but they could at least be made comfortable, and given room to reclaim some shred of normalcy.

Which meant Patton could, and did, visit Janus far too often, greedily devouring every hug, cuddle, hand hold, or simple hair ruffle he could gain access to. Janus could hardly deny him...and Janus wanted it all just as much.

Gods, Janus wanted, too much and too soon and too...inhuman.

Staring into Patton's face, Janus's vision was tinged with rays of gold. A gilt to every dark curl on Patton's head, flecks of gold in those deep blue eyes turning them into true lapis...shimmering gold lips pooched into a mock scowl, gold dusting the faint array of freckles he was acquiring after a few weeks of sunlight...

Pressure. Warm, steady, gentle...

Janus blinked, realizing Patton had his forehead pressed against Janus's. He was talking, words Janus couldn't hear but felt, soft and soothing and endless to fill his ears and press back the shimmering film over his vision.

The gilt edges faded away. His eyes were blue, deep and still and endless. He was Patton again, not...not some worthless hoard.

Just Patton, soft and sweet and bloodthirsty, infinitely more precious.

“...got you, Janny, my beautiful Janus. I got you, you're doing so good, you're so good for me...”

...okay, that couldn't be allowed to go on. Not when it made warmth pool far lower in Janus's body, made him want something entirely different—and wow, he was not ready for those kinds of personal revelations today.

Clearing his throat, Janus reached up to gently touch Patton's cheek.

“I'm all right, Pattycake. Promise.”

Patton watched him dubiously, a far more serious version of that pout forming on his face again...Gods and Souls, he wanted to run a fingertip over that lush lower lip. Or maybe bite it.

“You were growling.” Patton replied suspiciously. “And you were feeling cold. You're never cold, you're always warm as toast.”

“It's nothing, truly. I was just...distracted.” Janus tried again. “Work related, got me a little upset is all.”

Patton narrowed his eyes—then leaned back in to hug Janus again. Janus hugged him back without thinking...and felt his breath catch when he swore, swore to all the dragon gods, that he felt the tiniest press of lips against his neck before Patton burrowed in, pressing his face there.

“No one's 'llowed to upset my pretty dragon.” Patton mumbled against his throat. “Gonna eat their liver.”

Janus knew enough to know that was a very genuine threat, petulant as it sounded—and the promise of bloodshed should not make his heart throb with the softest pulse of tenderness and adoration. And yet...

“No more cannibalism, remember, darling?”

“It was one time, and it was an accident!”

Janus had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Patton drew back to whine at him in protest.

“Yes, darling. Of course—entirely accidental. Naturally.”

“Humph. Not talking to you anymore.”

“Understood.”

“...the Lord Father is here to see you.”

Janus felt his blood turn to ice at that.

“Janny? You okay?”

With a sigh, Janus gently patted Patton's knee.

“No, but this was inevitable. Up, Paddock darling. I've business to attend to.”

********** He seemed bigger than Janus remembered.

Walking into his office, he was unsuprised to see Josiah Crofter standing within its walls, back turned as he stared out the window, arms folded across his chest. He wasn't, technically, allowed to be here and leave free, but Josiah had made it clear to the prince regent he knew how to access the castle at will—and had been given leave to do so whenever he wished to see his family.

When Janus was thirteen, he'd been a hungry giant, and now...now he was exactly the same despite the fact that Janus was now a grown man. Tall, too, thanks to that seven foot frame in his ancestry. Somehow, even still, Josiah himself was the bigger, the prouder, the more intimidating.

Clearing his throat, Janus announced his presence. Josiah didn't even turn around.

“You got good men servin' you, Deceit.”

“Do not call me that.” Janus replied flatly, sauntering over to his desk. “The walls have ears. Granted, most of them are mine, but loose lips and all. Unlike the rest of you, I take protection of my True Name very seriously.”

“Unlike the rest of us, son, it can't be used to hurt you. Not anymore.”

“Yes, you saw to that, didn't you?” Janus bit off tersely, sinking into his chair.

Josiah fell silent, taking a moment before he finally turned to face him. He was a stoic wall for several seconds before his expression just...melted, cold gray eyes going smoke-soft as he watched him.

“You look so much like your momma it hurts.” Josiah murmured, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “It's a good hurt, mind, but...I know you don't believe me, but seein' you's a balm on old wounds, little ember.”

That caught Janus by surprise—and he hated that. He was the one with the surprises, the tricks, the knowledge...but this man had things he never would.

Father knew who Janus was, but Josiah Crofter...he knew where Janus came from. He knew the why, the history and the parts and how they worked together, because they were a part of him as well. They were, quite literally, part of his soul.

“Which part?”

The question left Janus without his permission, torn from the small, secret part of him that had been inexorably drawn to his birth father's doorstep from the moment his human half had truly awakened for the first time.

He wasn't sure what he even meant, but somehow Josiah knew all the same.

“Both. All.” he replied, deep voice heavy with affection that settled over Janus, warm as fire and soft as the heaviest flannel blanket. “You got her scales and her hair—and in human form, her eyes were always that same shade of yellow you got on the one side.”

The knowledge hit him hard, formed a fist and plunged straight into his chest. It was comfort, it was agony...and it was a much needed reminder.

Josiah Crofter knew him as even his own father couldn't—and far too late, Janus learned to fear him for that reason. Far too late.

Janus's True Name was proof of that.

“Is there a reason you're here to see me, Lord Father?” he replied instead of addressing the observation. “Or did you come her to merely wax sentiment?”

A flare of hurt, then anger passed through his expression, clinging to his bones with its painful familiarity. Timothy Ormor was a man slow to anger, patient and steady—unlike Janus, whose swift mind was only outpaced by his heart, burning with the fire of the dragons.

Lashing out with anger instead of grieving or showing fear. This man was where he got it from.

Like Josiah did now, composing himself and folding his hands behind his back, he would default to a steady and inscrutable mask, cover the truth with strength and decorum.

“I came here to check on you.” he replied evenly. “Your situation with the Morrel boy ain't exactly a common one. Does he know?”

“About my condition? No.” Janus replied flatly. “And he never will.”

“That ain't an option, and you damn well know it.”

“It is if we aren't together.”

Josiah's brow furrowed, expression clouding with confusion. “You a Jadeheart?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “That term is archaic as all Seven Hells—no, I am not aromantic. Nor am I asexual, which is hardly your business—oh, I'm sorry, Soultouched.”

“You love that boy. You're bonded to him.”

“Your point?”

“...so you did give him your human soul.”

Janus fell silent, stubbornly holding the other man's gaze until he grit his teeth with a growl.

“Ah, Hells...”

Janus didn't like the way Josiah's breath left him in a rush, the way he cursed as if he'd just lost something precious. He didn't like the way he hung his head, shoulders slumping in something like defeat.

Janus didn't like the way he felt suddenly like he'd done something to deliberately hurt him.

“He was a Black Dog with a pure heart.” Janus hissed. “The purest heart...anyone who didn't know would assume he had a soul already, how could I give him anything else? How could I kill that human heart with a monster's soul?”

As he said it, he felt the reality of it sink into him for the first time, saying it out loud like that.

Because unlike most twin souls, a drake could choose.

And when Janus gained an inkling of what might be happening, when he felt that moment come—to give of himself, to release something of himself into Patton's care, of course—of course he chose to give Patton, to trust Patton, with everything in him that was human.

“You know what's gonna happen if you hold yourself away from him, son.” Josiah warned.

Janus narrowed his eyes at him, but could no longer bear up under Josiah's scrutiny, his eyes flicking down to his desk.

“Tell me this, Father: if you knew that you were going to become every foul thing the Animator stood for, if you knew that you were going to turn into your own father, would you have married my mother? Would you have exposed her to that monster?”

There was no answer from Josiah. Janus didn't expect one.

The closer he grew to Patton, the worse it got—and now that the sweet little killer was no longer safely tucked away in the dungeons or sequestered in a single wing of the palace, Janus was slipping.

Consumed by the hunger for possession. Tormented by visions of riches. Haunted by the knowledge that, if given half a chance, he would consume Patton whole just to sate his growing thirst for more.

Without his human soul, Janus was losing his grip on himself—and if he couldn't do something soon, the dragon—Deceit--would be all that was left of him.

#janus sanders #patton sanders #moceit #sanders sides #fanfic #necromancer au #fic series: the emerald #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

Always Been Yours [one-shot]

Summary: In which Steve knows more than he lets on.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: Light smut 18+, some post-Endgame angst, sadness, heartbreak, fluff

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write something post-Endgame, and I know there’s a lot of these out there, but who cares? We all have feelings after Endgame. Enjoy, kiddos. There’s some light smut in the beginning, and some more further down the line, but this is not PWP. But still you should be 18+.

You’d known what he was going to do before he’d even uttered the words, “Can we talk?” Steve Rogers is nothing if not totally predictable in the most selfless of ways, and even as he sits you down, takes your hands with that resigned, contemplative look on his face, you figure he deserves a little selfishness after so many years of self-sacrifice.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” you begin before he can choke out the words he knows will break your heart. There’s no crack in your voice, no sign that you’re a breath away from breaking, but there is an ache deep in your chest. Your smile is sad but wistful when he nods, ducking his head to avoid your eyes. “That trip through the Quantum Realm really did a number on you, didn’t it?”

Steve sighs, keeps your fingers locked between his as he sits back against the couch of the living room.

“I’ve never felt like I belonged in this time, you know that.” You nod. His eyes glaze over a bit, lost as he is in his memories. “I thought when Peggy…died, eight years ago, that was it. It was easy to…move on, so to speak, and then I met you, and you only made it easier, and I’ll always be grateful for that, for you.

But…seeing her, when we went back to 1970, knowing there was a chance I…I can’t lose her again.”

But you can lose me, your mind fills in, embittered by the statement even though you’ve seen this coming. You brush it away; you’ll have time to mourn your relationship later. For now, you can’t be selfish.

“Then you need to do what’s going to make you happy.” Your voice cracks this time, pressure building fast behind your eyes as your heart seems to finally get with the program. Steve looks at you, and his own eyes brim with tears.

His fingers are warm and soft over the backs of your hands and they skim up your arms to your neck, pull you close so you can press your foreheads together and breathe the same air, one more time. He squeezes his eyes closed and a glistening drop slips free, trailing down his face in a slow river, and another one quickly follows.

“Come on now, Cap,” you murmur, thumbs brushing the wetness away even as you swallow back a sob. His jaw wobbles with the effort of holding himself back, eyes pinching even more tightly closed.

His mouth is firm, demanding against yours when he pushes forward that extra inch. He tastes of his tears, salty sweet, and his weight is welcome when it presses you back into the couch. It’s a slow race to lose your clothing, hands inching slow across naked torsos to memorize every last detail. His hair is soft where it glides through your fingers as he pulls you apart with his mouth, his fingers, and finally the heavy heat of his cock as he slides into you in one deep, slow roll of his narrow hips.

The entire coupling is slow, torturous because you know it’s the end, but no less earth-shattering when he drops his entire weight, tucks his arms under your legs and angles his hips just there. White light flashes behind your eyes, your sobbing moan swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you, open-mouthed, hot, wet, all-consuming. It’s always like this between you and Steve, electric like a rogue powerline, stagnant static electricity threatening to black out the whole city.

You just click.

Sweaty and sated, you lay tangled together against the plush couch, Steve’s head on your chest. There are no words between you, no need for them in the stillness of the room. Under Steve’s ear your heart is racing; you know he hears it, super serum or not, but he says nothing.

There’s nothing to say to calm it down. It’s a resignation between you, a knowledge that while you’ll love each other always, you’re just not meant to be.

You go with him to the quantum platform. Sam and Bucky give the two of you a minute, and it’s hard to keep yourself together. You thought you’d done all of your crying the week prior, but it seems you still have tears to cry for your Captain. Dr. Banner stands behind the controls, waiting patiently while Steve gathers his gear.

He finally turns to you, a quiet sadness about him, but there’s peace as well. Excitement even, to reunite with his soulmate. And how could you possibly fault him for that? You discreetly wipe under your eyes when he closes the distance between you, tucking an arm around your back to pull you to his broad chest. Your fingers curl into the folds of his suit and you sigh shakily. Pinch your eyes shut when his lips touch your forehead softly, lovingly.

Again, no words are needed, as a million pass between your gazes.

You step back, shuffle your feet while Steve converses briefly with Sam, even more briefly with Bucky. He embraces his old friend, and you lock eyes with Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. Your heart thuds heavily; this is just as painful for Bucky as it is for you.

He’s solid beside you, his flesh hand clasped tightly with yours when Steve steps onto the platform. The QR materializes, stark white in the sunshine. Mjolnir in his grasp, he nods to the three of you watching, Bucky and you sporting similar wet, sad smiles.

When he’s gone, you turn to press your face into Bucky’s shoulder, hiccuping as his arm curls around yours. Sam and Dr. Banner bicker behind you, trying to figure out how to get him back when the machine only hisses, and Bucky turns to lead you away, still smiling sadly.

You stumble when he stops suddenly, his mouth next to your ear as he says, “Hey, look.”

Lifting your eyes, they find a lone figure sitting beside the lake.

“Sam,” you croak.

Your throat closes, chest tightens when Steve, a much older, more wrinkly version, passes the shield to Sam. He takes it, reluctantly at first, looking to Bucky and you for support. You smile softly as Bucky nods; Steve had informed you of his desire to pass the shield on. At first, he’d chosen Bucky, but after speaking to the former Winter Soldier, realized the shield would be better suited to Sam. He made you promise to support Sam as you had supported him, keep him in line but not let him buckle under the Captain America mantle.

It’d been all too easy to say yes.

Weeks later, the three of you have established a balance between one another. Bucky and Sam continue to bicker, but there’s a deeper respect and understanding between them.

The renovated Avengers compound is quiet now, despite the presence of the three of you, plus Wanda, Dr. Banner, Rhodey, and occasionally Peter. Tony’s absence is felt heavily every day, the lack of classic rock a sore reminder of the price paid for freedom, for life. Nat’s room hasn’t been touched by anyone, but sometimes you sit on her bed, talk as if she’s still there with you. The pillows have lost her fresh, spicy scent, but being in her space is comfort enough.

Sam has taken on the Captain America name well. He isn’t as bossy as Steve, but he keeps the rest of you in top shape. He’s reformulated your training routines, improved simulations, and insists upon Team Building Night once a week to keep morale up. It works, kind of. Wanda occasionally dips out and you hardly ever see Clint, not that you blame him. Everything about the compound reflects on the losses you’ve suffered, the people missing from your lives, the holes they’ve left behind.

You struggle to cope some days, the pain of missing Nat’s snark, Tony’s insight, egotistical and brash but no less welcoming, Steve’s arms around you, too sharp to ignore. He and Peggy live upstate, and though you’ve been invited, it’s been hard to go visit. It’s still fresh, and you know he doesn’t take offense to your reluctance to see him. You still need time.

But not too much, considering it seems to have caught up with Steve.

Bucky and Sam visit him regularly, taking monthly trips out to catch up with him. They always bring your regards with them when they do.

Despite his best efforts, Bucky struggles with Steve’s absence too. Having been gone for five years, only to lose his best friend to their long-lost former lifetime, hasn’t been easy for him. You hear him sometimes at night, wailing and sobbing in his sleep, when you yourself can’t seem to find any rest. Most nights you will yourself to go to him, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

The two of you have navigated the road to recovery together, having lost in ways different from the others. Bucky is still weak under the weight of not having apologized to Tony before he… You know it haunts him still, despite your and Sam’s best efforts to alleviate it. But Bucky’s nothing if not incredibly stubborn, just like Steve, and he still holds himself accountable for the falling out between Tony and Steve, the rift that was never completely repaired.

The connection between you and Bucky has grown stronger, deeper, but still you can’t let yourself get too close. Not again. Least of all to Steve’s best friend. It feels like a betrayal, even though Steve had…left you. It sounds too harsh in your mind, insinuating you hadn’t had a choice in the matter. You suppose, if you flipped it, you hadn’t. Steve had his mind made up before having the respect to talk to you, and there would be no talking him out of it.

God, you miss him. Had he been here, you wouldn’t be playing this balancing act of ‘should-I-shouldn’t-I’ with his best friend. The lingering touches under the guise of comfort, the furtive glances when the other isn’t looking. It’s there, you both know it is, but neither of you is brave enough to reach out and take it.

You don’t know if either of you ever will be.

Is this where you were bound to end up? Longing for your ex-lover’s best friend while the memory of said ex is still so fresh? The pain of his leaving still able to steal the breath from your lungs? More than once, these thoughts have triggered anxiety attacks, crippling bouts of rapid breathing, a racing heart, blood rushing in your ears, and white noise in your head. The others have found you in such states before, but you’ve kept quiet about the triggers. What would they think?

You set aside your Stark pad with a relieved sigh; finally, you’ve finished your latest mission report to hand in to Sam. It’s only ...six hours late. Oh well. You submit it, lock the pad, and crack your knuckles. Your back pops when you arch in the chair, groaning at the relief from sitting for so long. You could have been done earlier, but your mind had wandered, as it tends to when you’re feeling particularly fragile.

It’s three months today since Steve left. Left only to return having lived an entirely new life with a woman who wasn’t you. You run a hand through your hair. You’ve been seeing a therapist, at the advisory of Sam who claims it would be unprofessional to be both your counselor and your Captain. You’d feel more comfortable with him, but, Captain’s orders.

Your therapist, anyway, has told you it’s healthy to go back and forth between anger, hurt, grief, and denial of feelings. You’re still struggling heavily with that last one, but according to Dr. Hamlin, you’ve made progress. It doesn’t quite feel like it yet, but you guess that’s your denial talking.

It’s close to dinner time, and it’s you, Bucky, and Wanda in the compound. Sam has taken Rhodey and Peter off on a mission, strictly intel, leaving the three of you to wander about. You’ve barely seen Wanda; she hasn’t been doing so well with her coping as she lets on. Bypassing her room even now, you hear her quiet sniffles and you frown, heart hurting for your friend and her seemingly unending grief.

You knock lightly, and moments later you hear the lock slide into place. You don’t take offense; Wanda’s far less open with reaching out to people, though as of late you haven’t been feeling very personable either. You move on.

Bucky’s door is cracked open, and without thought you push it open, saying, “Hey Buck, you hungry?”

Your voice dies in your throat when you take in Bucky, standing with his bare, broad back to you. Your throat goes dry when he turns his head to glance at you over his shoulder, his chestnut hair falling in his face. His vibranium arm gleams under the lighting of his room, gunmetal grey streaked with shimmering gold. Where it joins with his shoulder is smooth skin. Still scarred, but no longer angry and red. His time in Wakanda had taught him of salves from plants that could, more or less, heal his scarring.

He’s a sight, and you wonder just why it’s taken you so long to realize it.

But he’s off-limits, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

Your face flames when he turns fully to face you, the sight of his bared, sculpted torso setting your blood on fire. You clear your throat quietly, avert your eyes in some semblance of dignity.

“Sorry, the door was open,” you mutter, praying he can’t detect the slight tremor in your voice.

“‘S’ok, doll.” You swallow, stomach clenching at the pet name. “What were you saying?”

There’s a rustle, and his pale, beautiful skin is hidden behind a dark t-shirt. Thank god. He’s dressed in dark jeans, feet bare, and there’s something so comfortingly domestic about it that it makes your heart melt. You know Bucky’s had a hard time adapting to life in the compound, in the building Tony built, but you’re glad he seems to be making headway in at least that regard.

“Was gonna ask if you were hungry,” you offer. As if it can hear you, Bucky’s stomach grumbles, and the tension that had just suffocated the room is gone. The two of you share small laughs.

“You cooking?” he questions, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers. It makes you grin, the notion of the once-feared Winter Soldier in slippers too ridiculous.

“Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

Dinner consists of all the Sunday fixings, at Bucky’s request. Roasted chicken, potatoes, green beans, gravy, and fresh biscuits over glasses of red. All the tension from earlier is gone, and if you let the wine get to your head, the closeness and intimacy of cooking and eating together almost feels like a date.

The way Bucky’s eyes glitter in the low lighting of the kitchen takes your breath away, and you have to busy your hands with pouring two more glasses before they do something stupid. But your fingers brush when you hand him his glass, and your eyes lock again. It’s back, that god awful tension that leaves you teetering on the edge of ‘do-I-don’t-I’. You can’t look away from him, the storm blue-grey of his eyes pulling you in like an undertow, threatening to drown you.

Bucky’s movements are slow as he sets down his glass and rises from the island, stepping around it to press in close to you. He towers over you, but it makes you feel…safe, secure. Your heart is a wild horse in your chest, galloping a beat so fast it threatens to make you pass out. But then Bucky’s hands are on you, flesh on your waist and gunmetal grey gingerly cupping your jaw, and it grounds you again long enough to see his pupils dilate just a fraction.

His scent and warmth surround you as he leans in, movement still slow to give you the chance to back out, but you’re cemented in place. You’re tired of denying your feelings, so tired of it, but when Bucky’s lips are just a whisper away, you picture Steve in your mind’s eye, and whatever spell has fallen over the two of you is broken.

You know Bucky can see the minute he loses you, the wall that seems to go up behind your eyes as you clear your throat and force yourself out of his arms and out of reach. In return, his posture straightens, body going rigid as he attempts to ice you out too. It hurts more than you expect, but you’re the one at fault, putting distance between you when it’s obvious there should be none.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quietly in the tense silence. “I-I can’t.”

Bucky barely manages a nod before he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in a dark flurry. You hear the sound of the elevator, and once you’re alone, your heart sinks to your stomach. The wine is tart as you gulp it down, cursing your stupid head and stupid heart for confusing you so all the time.

You get wine-drunk by yourself, making a split decision to spend the night in Nat’s room. More than ever, you miss coming to her when you can’t make sense of yourself. You sit against the headboard, cheeks shining with tears you’re tired of holding back. You hug her pillow to your lap, talking quietly into the empty room. The windows are open, ruffling her curtains and it almost feels like a weight settles beside you on the bed. She’s here in spirit, you know, but it makes you cry harder.

“I miss you so much, Natasha,” you sob, face buried in the pillow as your bottle of red sits forgotten on the nightstand.

You seek out Sam when he’s back from his mission. Bucky and you have spent the past two days awkwardly dancing around one another, never able to hold eye contact before one of you looks away. It’s painful, tearing into your heart like a blade and twisting until you’re gasping for breath.

Sam is in his office, and he waves you in with a grin, though it falters a bit when he takes in your expression.

“I need you, Sam,” you tell him honestly. “Sam the VA counselor, though, not Cap.”

He must see the toll whatever is on your mind is taking on you because any protest he might’ve had dies on his tongue. You tell him everything, your guilt, your feelings for Bucky but the betrayal you feel towards Steve. It sounds like nonsense when you blurt it all out, but Sam seems to make sense of it. Must be the counselor in him.

He understands, he tells you, has seen this coming a mile away and you’re confused.

“It was bound to happen. The two of you share a loss that means a great deal to both of you. It’s natural for you to grow closer over it, to develop feelings. I know you think you’re betraying Steve by loving Bucky, but I assure you, you aren’t. Steve knew what he was doing, and even though he hurt you, he knew you were meant for someone else. Steve wants you to be happy, Y/N, so you need to let yourself be happy. You’ll always have your love for Steve, but you can keep him in your heart and make room for someone else.”

You eye him warily when he pauses. “Why are you all the sudden Bucky’s number one cheerleader?”

Sam huffs. “Look, Tin Man and I might not always get along, but we trust and respect each other. The two of you are my best friends, and I want both of you to be happy. If that’s with each other, I’m all for it. Y’all gonna have to keep the moon eyes on the low, though.”

You laugh wetly, your eyes having brimmed on their own accord with tears of both happiness and sadness. Sadness for letting go of Steve, or starting to, and happiness for having the support of your best friend. He hugs you tightly to him, kisses your temple softly, and wishes you luck.

Bucky’s in the gym, or so FRIDAY tells you, and you make your way there immediately. He’s wailing on a punching bag, hair tied back, and shirtless. Great. As if it wasn’t difficult enough admitting your feelings, you now have to face his Greek-god physique to do it.

He pauses mid-swing when he sees you enter the gym, slows the bag for a moment before his jaw clenches and he resumes his routine. You walk over to him slowly, shyly, feeling nausea bubbling in your stomach. He still doesn’t look at you even as you step up beside the bag.

“Bucky?” you question softly, but still he refuses to look at you. Gritting your teeth, you stop the bag and he just manages to stop his fist mid-jab. He glares hard at you, but you stand firm against the heat of the Winter Soldier. “Bucky.”

“What?” he snaps, whirling away from you to wipe nonexistent sweat from his forehead. He’s nervous, pacing back and forth because he can’t stand still.

“I’m sorry. The other night, I’m sorry,” you plead. Bucky’s pacing pauses and then resumes. You growl quietly. “God, will you stop pacing and listen to me?!”

“Why?” He rounds on you, voice rising in anger, in hurt you realize, and his eyes are blazing. “So you can reject me to my face? No need. I got the picture. Loud and clear.”

He spins away from you, vibranium hand diving into his hair to muss up the bun he’s tied it in.

“That’s not why I’m here,” you tell him thickly. God, you really need to stop crying all the damn time. “I shouldn’t have walked away, Bucky. Not from you. I was scared and confused of what I was feeling for you, what I feel for you.”

Bucky looks at you, finally, and any other words you may have wanted to say die on your tongue. The blue in his eyes is so rich, so bright, it pulls you in as if it has its own orbit. Of their own accord your hands reach up to lay on his bare chest, tiny coarse hairs tickling your palms. Beneath, his heart races, but he doesn’t look away.

Surprisingly, you feel no fear when you whisper, “I love you Bucky. I’m in love with you.”

There’s a moment where you worry, just for a second, but then Bucky’s kissing you and the world seems to right itself. He’s all-encompassing warmth, arms winding tightly around you to haul you up against his chest. You sigh into his mouth and the warm wet of his tongue slides along the seam of your lips. Willingly, you open underneath him, whimper in the back of your throat when he presses harder against you.

Your hands dive into his hair, winding the strands around your fingers and tug gently. He rumbles into your mouth and it brings goosebumps to your skin. His chest is hot against yours, and the longer he kisses you, the more you long to be pressed skin to skin. Your lungs burn, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away just yet. He’s far too addicting, and now that you’ve started, you’re not sure you’ll ever stop.

But he does, pulls away just enough so you can both pull in deep lungfuls of air. A silent conversation passes between you, and then you’re moving, taking the elevator to his floor, and he crowds you into his room. He kisses you softly but deeply, tilting your head back to fully devour you. It leaves your knees weak and you sag against him, brace against his chest to keep yourself upright.

His hands come up to frame your face and he breaks away just an inch.

“Tell me you’re sure, doll,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes wide and shining and so full of need it shakes you.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you reply honestly. You groan when he slams his mouth to yours again, heady and demanding and urging you to bend. You become pliant in his hands, allowing him to strip you away until you’re bare in front of him.

He can’t take his eyes off you, trailing them up and down in slow repetition, as if he can’t believe you’re real. A flush breaks out across your neck and down your chest, and you reach for him. Bucky hisses when your fingers dip into the band of his sweats, jerk down to pool them at his feet. He’s bare underneath, and by god, does he take your breath away.

Your heart pounds as you trace the lines of his body, relishing in his shuddering inhale when you circle his nipples with your nails. Eyes fluttering up to his, you lean forward and trace the same path with your lips, tongue, and teeth. At his sides his fists clench with restraint. He lets you explore his body, knowing he’ll have the chance to do the same.

He chokes on a breath when you lower yourself to your knees, eyes widening at his stiff cock nestled between those sinful thighs. He’s velvet over steel, hot and heavy in your hand when you wrap your fingers around him. He groans, hips jutting forward just a bit, and he thinks he’s going to come when your tongue swipes at his sensitive head, laps at the bead of precum at the tip.

“My my, Bucky,” you taunt, peering up at him from under your lashes. His jaw muscles work as he grits his teeth. “I’ve barely touched you and look at you.”

He nearly chokes on his spit. The mouth on you. A long, low moan rips from his throat when you take him into the heat of your mouth. He thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven with how perfect you feel around him, taking him inch by inch. White-hot pleasure races through his system, sets his heart to pounding as you take him to the back of your throat and swallow.

“Christ.” His hands fly to your hair, stilling you momentarily, and he thinks you look so goddamn beautiful like this. Mouth stretched around his cock and eyes glistening.

Slowly he guides you back and forth along his length, his hips thrusting into your mouth. Your hands brace on his thighs, nails scraping along the skin, and when you moan around him, he has to pull you off before this is over before it’s even started.

You moan again when he kisses you, relishes in the tang of himself on your tongue. He hoists you into his arms and carries you to his bed. You flop against the pillows and sigh when he cages you in with his massive body. You’re warm, safe, secure, and so utterly in love you think you might cry. Especially when he stares down at you with a loving adoration that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Tell me again,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as he lowers his forehead to yours. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Bucky.”

He kisses you hard but so full of love it threatens to burst your heart. His metal hand supports his weight as his flesh hand drifts down your body, plies your legs open to find you hot, wet, and ready for him.

“Jesus, doll,” he curses, dipping a finger just inside your opening. You sigh, drop your head back onto the pillow as he learns your body, figures out how to play you like a fiddle. It’s beautiful torture, the slide of his fingers inside you.

When he curls them, you keen at the jolt of pleasure that zings up your spine. “Bucky!”

With a new kind of vigor he brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast, stroking your inner walls until you’re clenching around his digits and seeing stars. He laps at the skin of your neck, finds your pulse point and bites down. Shivers when you moan lowly and reach for him.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg in a broken whisper. Your eyes are hooded in pleasure, a sight he’s not sure he’ll ever forget. “I need you.”

It’s all the reassurance he needs as he grips himself, slides his head through your wet and quivering folds. You shakily inhale and meet Bucky’s eyes when he looks up from where you’re about to be joined.

“I love you,” he declares and sinks inside you in one long thrust. Your mouth drops open and he drops his neck to your neck, gasping at the tight velvet of your cunt as he bottoms out. He has to take a minute to adjust both himself and you, and then he moves.

Bucky’s a softer lover than Steve, but it’s no less all-consuming. He surrounds you, laces his fingers with yours and hikes your legs up around his waist as he pumps a slow but hard rhythm. He could listen to your moans for the rest of his life, taste the salty slick of your skin where your neck meets your shoulder, feel you fluttering around him as you near your peak.

He thrusts harder when the heels of your feet dig into his ass, feeling that burning at the base of his spine. He’s close, but he wants you there with him. He shifts suddenly, sits back on his calves and pulls you into his lap so that you’re pressed chest to chest. You’re breathing the same air as he moves you over his length.

“Look at me, doll,” he moans, leaning forward when you do to kiss you deeply. He arches your hips to grind your clit against his pelvis, and you’re nearly there.

“Bucky, god, please!” you whimper, crying out when his metal hand cups your breast, thumbing over your nipple before it’s engulfed in the heat of his mouth. He laps at it with his tongue, and it sends you reeling, spiraling into oblivion with your mouth open in a silent scream.

He comes right behind you, a long groan of your name as he stutters his hips and spills inside you. It’s a long come down for the both of you. He lowers you gently to your back, drawing a hiss from you as he slips out of you. Immediately he pulls you into him, tucking your head under his chin and tightening his arms around you.

It’s quiet between you for a while, basking in the glow of your lovemaking.

“You think he knew?” you ask sometime later. Bucky’s trailing fingers on your spine pause and then continue. “When he was leaving, what would happen between us?”

Bucky sighs through his nose before nuzzling it against your hair. “I feel like that punk knew a lot he didn’t let everyone in on.”

You giggle. “He was wise in his old age, wasn’t he?”

“Careful, doll, you’re talking to a fossil, here,” he chides playfully. You lean back to look up at him.

“My fossil,” you murmur, pushing forward to press your lips to his. He hums contently.

“Always been yours, doll.”

#bucky barnes x reader #post endgame #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 4 years

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other magic timeskip chlolix fan kid design bullet points

This is honestly just some self reference for me, designs for the future pups in the OM au along with their names

Alphonse(Eldest): Very tall and a bit of a soft himbo look. big brother energy, probably one of those bomber jackets with the fluffy inside along with a scarf. Long bleached hair with dark roots he’s gotten lazy with dying again that’s braided. Probably ripped jeans? And freckles. Did he name himself after Alphonse from FMA? Bitch maybe-

Calliope(Second eldest): A little shorter than Al. Soft and kinda friend shaped?Shes also got vitiligo. She’s got a soft pastel look. Mom friend no doubt. Light pink highlights in her hair. Brunette maybe?

Beau(regard)(Twin 1): Used to be the same height as his sister but got taller. Blonde, trying to not accidentally just design Edric here. May or may not have James from Pokémon cross dressing energy. Trashy af fashion but he works it.

Belle(Twin 2): Looks like a girl version of Beau, keeps her kinda short hair up in a messy bun and has a bit of a jock look. A little shorter than Beau but they’re both tall enough to lean on top of Alice’s head and make fun of her.

Alice(Youngest): Either natural blonde or she dyes it too. If she’s blonde, she dyes the ends silver/white, if she dyes it blonde, it’s just blonde. Punk clothing. Semi goth almost. She’s also got a peculiar watch her mom gifted her when she turned 15. How Curious.

Drawn designs are coming soon. I don’t like making ocs for fics but these kiddos have grown on me. Rip they won’t be showing up at all in the fic unless I make a sequel or an epilogue

#other magic au #chlolix

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baskervilleshound · 5 years

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Her Cookies Were to Die For (PART 6)

((ahaaaaa so it’s past 1AM whoo p s. But in my defense, this chapter got way longer than i originally expected it to be- which is great! But this chapter is actually super special, because it pays homage to one of my favorite Ahit comics ever. The wonderful miss @fedoraspooky allowed me to write out the scene from her Snatcher comic. Hopefully I did it justice. Thank you so, so much for letting me write it out ;;u;;

Guys, if you haven’t seen it, here’s a link: https://fedoraspooky.tumblr.com/post/611345241098829824/lil-continuation-comic-thing-from-this-post-and but if you haven’t seen it yet, don’t look at it till after you read this because it’s technically spoilers for this chapter lolz ANYWAYS. time to get spooky. Please enjoy! ))

“Snatcher, help!” Hat Kid cried as she fought against the vicious Subconite that lived in the muck.

The ghost’s vision was hazy, and he felt weak, but without missing a beat, he stretched one of his long arms out to latch onto Hat Kid before pulling her out of the water, and back up onto the dock with him. She was covered in what appeared to be the blue goop. Snatcher had knocked her directly into it by accident.

If he had known that it was the kid touching him, he wouldn’t have launched her off of the dock in the first place.

“Ugh…kid, are you ok…?” Snatcher grumbled weakly. His head hung over the dock as if he couldn’t lift it as more of the blue goop dribbled out from between his fangs.

“I saw you, Snatcher. You’re sick, and I knew it,” Hat Kid breathed as she watched the blue goop beginning to mysteriously evaporate into the sky off of her coat. It was as if the liquid was being beckoned into the sky, as if some sort of tractor beam were pulling it upward. Except, there wasn’t one. This goo seemed to have a mind of its own.

“What is this, exactly?” the girl asked.

In moments, she had pulled out her Dweller Mask and looked at what remained of the blue liquid on her coat, as well as the strange blue orbs of light now littering the bog.

“They’re souls,” Snatcher huffed. “Yes, kid. I’m sick, and I keep throwing up souls. You were right. There, are you happy now?”

Hat Kid immediately crouched down next to the ghost and put a hand on his long back, gently brushing it against the fluff on his neck.

“No, not at all,” the girl said softly, shaking her head. “I never wanted you to be sick…I was just scared that you were, because I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well. That makes two of us, kiddo.”

Snatcher went to pull himself back up so he wasn’t lying on the dock any longer, but he found that he simply couldn’t. Not right now.

“Can you get up?” Hat Kid asked.

Snatcher grumbled in response. He knew that he couldn’t, but he definitely refused to admit it out loud. However, he didn’t have to. The girl knew in an instant.

“Maybe you need some souls- here, pull out your magic contract thingy, and I’ll let you borrow mine until you feel better, ok?” Hat Kid said urgently. “C’mon, write one up for me and put the little stamp on it, and I’ll sign it for you- promise!”

Regardless of how exhausted and tired Snatcher felt, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“AhahahahahAAAAH!!! Kiddo, you’re going to make me cry with your idiocy. You do realize that your soul is worthless to me unless I eat it, right?”

Hat Kid nodded rapidly, a look of determination on her face.

“Yep- you can have it! If it’ll make you feel better, I don’t need it.”

Snatcher clicked his tongue and shook his head before letting out a deep sigh.

“Kid. Listen. You can’t just go offering your souls to people, alright? You do know that if I were to eat your soul, you would die. Yes?”

Hat Kid’s face fell and she swallowed hard. No, she didn’t know that. Last time Snatcher had taken her soul, she had been just fine…albeit having a little empty feeling inside. But he hadn’t eaten it, no. He had only held it for her.

“But…what about you? I don’t want you to die,” Hat Kid whispered. “What can I do if I can’t let you borrow my soul?”

Snatcher felt a bit warm inside. It made him uncomfortable. This girl-who he tried to kill several times- was doing everything that she could to make him feel alright. She had even offered him her own very soul! But for some reason…he simply couldn’t take it. He would have no issues ripping it straight out of a Mafia’s body, or even any other intruder in his forest. But Hat Kid….? The idea of eating her soul sent shivers down his nonexistent spine, and he hated it.

“Kid, I’m not taking your soul. Stop talking about it. And I’m not going to die. I’m just not used to losing souls like this. Or puking. That too.”

Hat Kid looked as if she were about to cry. That made Snatcher feel even worse. Regardless of how strong the alien girl was, she was still only nine. And that certainly was showing in this moment. Regardless, there wasn’t much that the ghost could do at the moment.

He felt his vision beginning to fade once again, and before he could even give Hat a warning, he had went limp on the dock. His fangs were still wet from the souls that had been expelled from his body.

---

Hat Kid had done her best not to panic after Snatcher had passed out for the second time in two days. As quickly as she could, she did her best to get the ghost back onto her ship. She didn’t want anyone to find him as weak and tired as he was. What if they hurt him?

What if she hurt him?

Hat Kid swallowed hard as she remembered the note that she found lying in Snatcher’s forest. It had been crumpled up and half buried under a root. Queen Vanessa had sent him a gift in a box. What the box held was a mystery…but Hat Kid had a nagging feeling that whatever had been in it, had something to do with how bad Snatcher was feeling. And those strings wrapped all around his body…and whatever that spiky thing was sitting in the center of his stomach.

Carefully, she tucked the large ghost into her pillow mountain before blowing him a small kiss.

“Goodnight, and feel better, BFF.”

Hat Kid made her way into the kitchen. As expected, Cooking Cat was still in there, messing with her stove.

“I see you brought the big grump back, honey?” CC meowed as she pulled some fresh, hot toast out of the toaster.

“Is he getting sick again?”

Hat Kid frowned and nodded, her eyes becoming glossy.

“I don’t know what to do, CC. He’s throwing up souls. And I guess without them, he feels weak. I don’t know what to do,” the girl breathed, removing her hat and beginning to wring the rim of it. “CC, what do I do?” she choked.

The cat smiled and put the dry toast on a plate before giving it to Hat Kid.

“Well, I’m not really sure how to cure a sick ghost, but I know we can start trying to make him feel better. Maybe some toast would settle his stomach down, hm? He’s pretty big, so I’ll make like four more for him. We’ll start with that, okay?”

Hat Kid slowly nodded, wiping her eyes. She simply stayed by Cooking Cat’s side as she toasted more bread, adding it to the growing pile on the plate. When she was finally finished, the cat patted Hat Kid on the head with one of her soft paws.

“Go on then. See if you can wake him up and get him to eat.”

Hat Kid did as she was told and bounded into her room, being careful not to drop any of the toast.

“Snatcher…! I got you some-!” Hat Kid paused when she realized that she couldn’t see Snatcher in the mountain of pillows. Had he left? Or perhaps, he was buried in the pillows. Hat couldn’t be sure.

Setting the plate down on her desk, Hat slowly treaded through the pillows, looking carefully for a mound that looked like they may have a ghost underneath. Carefully, she began to gently pull the pillows away. Sure enough, she revealed a shadowy foot. Wait- a foot?!

Her heart beating rapidly with excitement, Hat Kid began quickly pulling the rest of the pillows off as fast as she could. In moments, she finally revealed what had been hiding underneath of them.

It was Snatcher, alright. But now how Hat Kid normally saw him. Instead of a long, noodle-like ghost, what instead lied in the pillows in peace was a shadowy version of his former identity…the Prince.

Hat Kid’s breath was nearly taken away. He looked just like he had in the story book! Except for the fact that his skin was still dark hues of purple, just as Snatcher always was. She simply sat there and watched him for a moment before grabbing her umbrella. With eyes as wide as saucers, she gently poked the Prince right on the forehead.

The ghostly royal immediately let out a grunt and half opened one of his eyes before his form began to change. Immediately, his long arms propped him up, and his back arched. Large tufts of spiked fur immediately stuck up on his back as his two legs began to twist back together once again into one big, ghostly tail.

His princely attire vanished and formed back into the sleek form of the Snatcher in a matter of moments. After the ghost was done stretching like that of an overgrown cat, he let out a large yawn, holding a clawed hand in front of his mouth as he did so.

“Ughh…Waddya want, kid…? Don’t you know it’s RUDE to-.” Snatcher paused midsentence as he looked at Hat Kid. She was staring at him as if he had grown six heads atop his shoulders. Her eyes were full of astonishment, and what appeared to even be shock.

Uh…kiddo?” the ghost nervously murmured, now rubbing his claws together.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

#ahit #ahatintime #a hat in time #a hat in time snatcher #snatcher #the snatcher #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #a hat in time hat kid #Queen Vanessa #Cooking Cat #gears for breakfast #her cookies were to die for #my writing #ahit fanfiction

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thepinkseat-askthemoonbunny · 4 years

Text

Alright everybody, meet my baby girl Elisabetta Hellsing-Maxwell...or Lisa for short. She’s supposed to be around 12 in this pic and yes, her primary weapon is a spiked Hello Kitty baseball bat. (I remembered that one post with the hello kitty bat and I couldn’t resist)

Full Name: Elisabetta Dipali Alessandra Hellsing-Maxwell (Dipali from her maternal grandmother, Alessandra after Anderson.

Nickname: Lisa

Age: 12 (in the pic)

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Violet

Skin color: Brown

Personality: Lisa’s actually a really sweet and polite girl and always curious...she’s always getting into new things, usually things she’s not supposed to be getting into (much to her parents’ worry). She tends to be quiet and keep to herself a lot, most take this as a sign of antisocialist behavior but no, she’s just plotting. She’s a planner, she’ll think of three and five plans for things even if they’re impractical in the long run. She has a problem with keeping emotions bottled in until they just erupt, which can get quite ugly and has difficulty asking for help insisting she can handle it herself. Oftentimes she feels torn between her parents...this poor child just needs therapy, somebody please help her.

Bio: So, Lisa’s story...she’s not really supposed to be here, k? Details are covered in the fic (there are only four chapters up so far) but I’ll summarize. Basically Integra and Maxwell got drunk one night and hooked up in a bar. It was supposed to be some one time thing never to be mentioned again, because they LOATHE each other but the sex was bomb as hell so it just kept happening behind their organizations’ backs.

Until one day Integra starts to feel like shit and the doctor is all like “congrats, you’re pregnant” and of course our vampire slaying queen of the universe was like “SHIIIIIITTT! This can’t be happening right now!” but inside her head cuz she doesn’t scream in public. Maxwell finds out (she doesn’t tell him, he just finds out) and he starts freaking out like oh my god oh my god, what do I do, but then his Catholic sensibilities kick in and he goes over to the mansion like “we gotta get married, like right now.” At first Integra’s like “no sodding way” and plans to get an abortion. There is no way that they’re in any position to be parents right now, this is a terrible idea...literally the worst thing that could happen at the worst time, and what would their organizations say?

But she ultimately changed her mind after seeing how screwed both their reputations would be if this ever got out. Plus in his words “she needs an heir and she’s not getting any younger.” So they try to remain civil for the sake of the children but still can’t stand each other (but they keep having hatesex tho cuz I’m a sadist) and eventually Lisa and her twin brother are born. She’s named after both the Queen of England and the Catholic Saint Elizabeth of Hungary (but the Italian version). Since her parents hardly ever see each other, Lisa spends six months in England and six in Italy usually. Growing up, she and her brother were often kept as innocent from the affairs of Hellsing as their mother could possibly manage it, as she wanted them to have a proper childhood. Lisa often spent her time pursuing her passion, music...writing songs or playing her guitar, when school and parents don’t particularly get in the way. Ultimately, the child wanted control over her own soul and grows weary of her parents’ spiritual conflicts over them.

Relationships:

Integra Hellsing: Lisa thinks her mom’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, and she’s not wrong really. They’re very close and she tries to emulate her a lot, Integra at first didn’t think she’d be a very good parent but she turned out to be a pretty great mom and trains Lisa up to be the boss ass bitch she will one day become while running Hellsing..that is, until EJ became the new heir because Lisa’s choice of religion disqualified her. She makes sure that her kids know they can be anything she wants to be. But she also shelters her and keeps a lot of things from her because Integra wants her daughter to have what she never did, a childhood because she was forced to grow up way too fast. And mama bear WILL destroy you if you fuck up. She’s been through some shit, Lisa is her offspring, Integra is hella protective. Safest child in Britain.

Enrico Maxwell: Lisa loves her dad to bits but is kinda terrified of him because well..:he’s a total raging nutjob.. He takes an active role in their upbringing because he was a bastard, he went through hell because of it and by Jove, his kids were NOT gonna go through that shit. Maxwell tries his best, he really does but he hasn’t lost any of that diehard Catholicism since becoming a dad and he often tries to drill that into Lisa. “But Dad, why can’t I have Protestant friends?” He’s probably one of those strict religious dads who won’t let you wear skirts above knee length and who thinks rap and Instagram are “tools of Satan.” He thinks he’s protecting the kids but he’s kinda fucking them up man. But at the end of the day, he does love her with all of the shriveled remains of his black, cold heart. One bonding ritual they have is him doing her hair, Lisa has his bushier hair. Integra can throw on a suit and be ready and can’t really be bothered with it so either Maxwell or Walter end up doing it. Their relationship has simultaneously become stronger, as Lisa has become a practicing Catholic, and a bit shaky as she can tell that there’s a bit of a rift between her dad and her twin.

Enrico Hellsing-Maxwell: Lisa’s younger twin brother by six minutes, and her ride or die. She’s often protective of him as the “big sister” and can go full mama bear when it comes to him, the two of them are like two halves of a whole basically. They’re inseparable, and often get into trouble together...they’ll form a wall so you can’t get information out of either of them, Rico is one of the few people she loosens up around and he knows things about her that a lot of people don’t, even their parents.

Alucard: Alucard is like half-nanny, half-attack dog. He did NOT like the kid at first because she was a reminder that that Italian slimeball “defiled” his master, but over the years she’s kinda grown on him. They have somewhere between a Seras and Integra relationship, he knows she’ll be his master one day but she’s also still small enough that he can kinda intimidate and flex on her. But he’s hella protective of her, he wouldn’t let anything happen. Lisa refers to him as “her scary vampire brother” and when she was little, she used to mispronounce his name as Ally-card so she still calls him that sometimes (which he hates)

Anderson: He’s basically her surrogate grandparent and she calls him Granddad. He may be a scary, Catholic Paladin but he loves the kiddos...and Lisa is kind of special to him. Maxwell is his son, and because of the way he turned out, Alexander feels like he failed. With Lisa, it’s almost a reminder of what her dad could’ve been, so it’s almost like a do-over he’s determined not to waste with her. He and Integra begrudgingly tolerate each other for her sake.

Seras: Lisa’s big sister. While Alucard is the older sibling that will encourage you to get into all sorts of holy hell, Seras will reign her back a little.

Heinkel and Yumie: Maxwell often makes them babysit Lisa while he’s busy, and they get SO ANNOYED by it. But with him, not with her. Heinkel is that “cool auntie” who will buy her beer and teach you her to shoot guns, Yumie is the kinda neurotic aunt who wants to be by the rules only because she’s terrified of what Maxwell will do if they cross a line.

Walter: Her “other granddad”, she often tells him things that she doesn’t tell anybody else because he’s literally one of the few religiously neutral people in her life.

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