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trippinsorrows · 3 months

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with me + part thirteen

authors note: this one is super long, ya'll! i don't necessarily like how long it is, but i couldn't cut it in half because there was no good cutoff point. so, i apologize to the readers with short attention spans! also, the very last part is not known to the characters, it's just context for what's happening....

this chapter takes place on February 2nd, 2024. yes, i'm aligning it with the real life dates of smackdown shows lol.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, smut, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’d forgotten how uncomfortable flights are and how much they irk you.

It's mostly the not being in control that bothers you. You can admit as much. On the jet wasn’t as difficult because you had Joe, and while Alexis is a nice companion, she’s not your man. No one can make you feel as safe and calm as he does.

However, there's some peace in seeing how well Callie is doing on her first flight. Your undercover social butterfly of a child has made friends with the flight crew who have taken her under their wing, allowing her to be a pretend flight attendant for the short flight.

So her spending time with the flight crew allows you and Alexis time to talk, cause why not distract yourself with a heavy ass conversation while 30,000 feet up in the air?

Alexis takes a sip of her wine, included with the first class tickets she purchased for the three of you. “Just let me know when you get back to the hotel tonight. I’ll watch Cal Gal for ya’ll.”

Confused, you ask, “why would we need you to watch her?”

She answers so casually, “so y'll can fuck. Duh.”

You sigh…..of course. “Alexis, this trip is not for that. We’re here so Callie can spend time with her daddy.” And that’s the truth. You’re most excited to see Callie’s happiness at being reunited with her dad.

“He’s your daddy too,” she wiggles her brows, and you look away. This heifer is way too much sometimes. “All I’m saying is it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Too long. “I’m not saying I don’t want to. It’s just not a priority, and I’m still not on birth control.” It hasn’t been very high on your to-do list, especially with him being gone as long as he has. But also….there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to get on it, and it’s not because of any health concerns.

“Tell him to pull out,” she suggests with a shrug, but your face must give it away. “Oh my god, he doesn’t want to, does he?”

Having this conversation on a plane, or at all, probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s something you’ve been thinking about since the night of your date. Even more as you grew closer to being reunited with him. “When we had sex that night, he asked me if I was on birth control.”

“Like, after?”

“No, like as he was literally blowing my back out.”

“Damn,” she mutters. If you know Alexis like you think you do, the ‘damn’ is also because she’s mentally conjuring that image. Freaky ass. Shaking her head, she then asks, “and you told him no, right?”

“Of course, but you know what he said in response?” Blowing out a deep breath, your head falls back against the headrest. “He said good, Alexis.”

Her mouth drops open, and you move to slap your palm over her lips. “Remember, we are on a plane, and my daughter is somewhere in the vicinity.”

This seems to help. A little. Removing your hand, she harshly whispers, “he’s trying to get you pregnant again!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” you answer honestly. “I think—I think it’s more if it happens, he wouldn’t be opposed.” And you believe that. You know Joe. He’s many things, and assertive is near the top of that list. He would straight up tell you if he wanted to get you pregnant…..you think.

She studies you, always so damn perceptive and knowing. “You feel the same way too, don’t you?”

“I don’t—” You can’t finish your sentence, because she’s not entirely wrong. It makes no logical sense for you to even be having this conversation, let alone thinking about this. Having a baby right now is one of the dumbest things you could do. You’re having a hard enough time as it is just finding gaps for Joe to spend time with the child you already have.

But.

There’s also this side of you that sees where this is headed. You know that your future is with this man. There’s no outcome you can figure where you two don’t end up together, and Alexis wasn’t wrong before she’d asked/reminded you that you want more kids. You want more kids with him. Want to give Callie a sibling.

Just….not right now.

You can’t even find it in you to tell this man you love him, but you want him to give you another baby? It doesn’t add up.

There’s a part of you that wonders if it comes from a place of fear.

For so long, you dreamed and wished for this to happen, for you to be with Joe, to have a future with him. It kept you up at night the fact that it would never be a possibility, but still, you dreamed. And now that all of it is happening, you wonder if there’s fear it could all go away so you’re trying to make the best of it.

Even though, deep down, you know there’s no reality where Joe could be away from Callie. You? Yes, maybe. Though slim to none. But while he loves you, Callie is his soul. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to be with her.

And that means he’ll always, to some extent, be in your life.

“Maybe.” Is the much shorter versioned answer you settle for. “So, for now, no sex until I figure this out.” Even saying it aloud, you’re not sure you entirely believe it. It’s a nice plan, but plans often change.

Especially when they involve Joe.

Alexis groans. “I love you, babes, but sometimes you’re so damn exhausting. There’s literally nothing to figure out. That man would marry you tomorrow if he could. You just gotta let go of the past, enjoy the present, and work towards the future.” She then adds, “then again, you said the same thing last time about no sex, and that man still fucked you six different ways from Sunday, so who knows.”

As much as you want to protest, you can’t. Your resolve when it comes to Joe, in almost all areas, is embarrassingly weak.

________

Being backstage is such a blast from the past, so reminiscent of so many years back when you and Mariah were just stoked at the possibility of meeting Cena, unaware of how that one night would change the trajectory of your entire life.

There’s a small part of you saddened at how things have changed so much with Mariah, but that’s an issue for another day. Your focus is on the here and now.

Similarly, Callie seems just as intrigued, but for different reasons. She keeps her hand in yours but her eyes scan around, growing hopeful with each turn of the corner that she’ll be met with the one thing she’s looking for. Or, rather, who she’s looking for.

Alexis somehow arranged a private tour backstage, thus “ditching” you as soon as ya’ll arrived to the arena. However, you also know she believes this is a “personal thing" and doesn’t want to “invade.” You tried to tell her that she was more than welcome, but she wasn’t hearing it. You’re so grateful for all of her support. It means so much to you.

One of the security guards flanking you and Callie tries to make small conversation, and you’re partially grateful but mostly annoyed. Your anxiety is already on the higher end than you’d like it to be, especially when all you wanted was to remain calm and collected for Callie’s sake. But having someone blabber about something you have no interest in doesn’t do much to help that.

Too bad it’s not a distraction, though, because you’re starting to second guess your decision. It’s a bold move not only coming to Joe's “job,” but bringing Callie too. Not that he’d ever complain or be upset at getting to see her, but not making him aware ahead of time is suddenly seeming like not the best idea. No matter what Jon says.

You know you ultimately had to keep him in the dark, because he’d ask questions as to why, not from suspicion but just natural curiosity. And you don’t want to lie to him. You need to talk to him about Callie, but you want to do so in person. That’s not a phone or even Facetime kind of conversation.

What if he isn’t ready for you to go “public”? To make Callie’s existence “public”? Sure, you have zero expectation of him letting ya’ll leave backstage, thus making it easy to hide out from cameras, but still, this is his workplace. He deserves some privacy.

So deep in your head and thoughts, you miss when you turn the final, lucky corner, only to realize when Callie gasps loudly, “daddy!”

She rips her hand from yours, and you briefly panic when she starts running away only to see who she’s running to.

Joe’s standing there among who you’d guess are WWE execs, clearly in the midst of conversation, when his head snaps in your direction. His eyes immediately land on Callie. He’s briefly confused, but a big smile replaces that confusion as he reaches down to catch Callie. She throws her little body against his, and you watch him stand up with her still in his arms, kissing her cheek and hugging her closely.

You walk over to them, offering a small, apologetic smile to the people now watching with slight puzzlement.

“Callie Bear,” he murmurs, mouth pressed to the top of her head. Your anxiety is already lessening. There’s not an ounce of anger or irritation painted in his handsome features, only an immense amount of appreciation and satisfaction at seeing his little girl.

“Surprise!” She shouts, smiling broadly. “Mommy said we could come see you since you can’t come see us!”

“And I’m glad you did,” he murmurs. “I missed you, baby girl.” She lays her head against his chest, obviously having missed him just as much. His eyes then land on you as you finally reach the duo. Your smile is small, even as he reaches and pulls you against his free side, stealing a quick kiss. “I missed you too, mama.”

His words do something so warm and fuzzy to your insides. “We figured if you couldn’t make it to us, we’d come to you.” Relief is so heavy over you. You’re pretty sure you’ve just given Joe one of the best surprises he could ever receive. You look over at the people still awkwardly standing by and then to him. “I’m sorry, did she interr—”

“No.” He seems almost insulted that you would even ask such a thing. He directs to them, “later.”

Without protest, they disperse, walking away. It’s so interesting seeing how much he’s grown since you first met him. Back then he was young, still trying to prove himself. Now he’s the literal face of the company. It starts and ends with him.

“I was on a plane!” Callie informs with that award winning smile. “I’ve never been on a plane before!”

“You haven’t?” It’s difficult to tell if he’s feigning surprise for the sake of engaging her on her level or genuinely can’t believe she’s never flown before. “Were you scared?”

She shakes her head. “It was lotsa fun!”

Joe chuckles and kisses her cheek. “That’s my brave girl.”

She giggles as he tickles her stomach. “I saw clouds! Ooh and birdies! And the nice flight lady gave me cookies cause she said I was a good girl!” As Callie starts to ramble and catch Joe up on a second by second play of the plane ride, he gives you a pat on the hip and directs you to walk with him. His arm around your waist, the other holding up Callie, you can’t deny how natural this feels, the three of you.

Joe takes you to his locker room which is as nice as you would expect it to be for the guy in WWE. You take your seat in the single chair, allowing Callie and Joe to take the sofa even though she’s barely next to him for five minutes before climbing into his lap and pulling out her tablet to show him what she’s made in some of her apps.

You pull your phone out and see that you have a few unread texts, the one from Alexis making you laugh aloud.

Alexis: Would you still love me if I fucked Logan Paul?

Shaking your head, you type out a response.

You: yes. just a little less.

Alexis: It’s just an appetizer. I plan to leave with the number of someone from that damn Bloodline tonight. Tell BDJ to hook me up.

You: would you please stop calling him that? 😭

Alexis: I’ll stop when it stops being true 🤷🏽‍♀️

You: you’re a menace.

Alexis: Stop texting me and focus on your man.

You: he’s in callie world right now, which is exactly where he should be. i keep telling you this trip was for her.

Alexis: It can be for you too if you stop being stupid and start by telling him, I don’t know, THAT YOU LOVE HIM.

You: goodbye, alexis 🙄

Alexis: I’m about to fuck this white boy anyway, but you know I’m right!!!

Alexis: I hope he doesn’t have fleas.

It takes everything in you not to scream. This girl is really crazy. Switching threads, you text your mom.

You: we made it here. she’s so happy. 🥺 he is too. i’m glad i took her.

Opening up the camera app, you sneak and snap a photo of the two of them. Reviewing it makes your heart swell. Callie is clearly deep in explanation while Joe holds her, partially following her discussion but mostly just enraptured in having her with him.

You send the photo to your mom who responds almost immediately.

Mom: Awww. I’m glad you did too. Enjoy yourself, baby. Take lots of pictures. ♥️

“Oooh!” Callie’s semi-loud exclamation pulls you away from the text thread. “Look what mommy got me!” Callie hops off Joe’s lap and spins around, moving her hair to the side to show off the back of her hoodie.

Naturally, you move your eyes to Joe, watching closely and carefully as he travels through a variety of emotions: shock, happiness, love. He’s clearly moved. A warm smile sets on your face. “I love it, baby.” He finally speaks, the emotion undeniable in his voice. Joe’s gaze sets on you, and you don’t need him to say anything to know what he’s thinking.

Mouthing ‘you’re welcome’, you settle back into the sofa, watching as Callie returns to her spot in his lap to finish catching him up on all the things he’s missed in his long absence.

You occupy yourself on your phone, catching up on some work emails and parent messages because it doesn’t seem to matter how many different ways you make them aware of an absence, they’re still going to message you like you didn’t let them know you’d be out of office for the next few days.

Sometimes you can’t tell much of a difference between your students and their parents. They’re both equally out of touch.

At some point, Callie moves to the middle of the floor to empty out her backpack that you still don’t know just how she managed to pack as much as she did in. She seemed hellbent on bringing all of these items, mostly artsy things, to share with Joe. And you didn’t want to stop her, so you let it be.

However, you end up catching Joe’s eye, and he motions you to come over to him. But, being the brat you are, you take your time doing so. And of course, because everything about this man is large, it’s nothing for him to reach his long arms out to tug you in front of him. His hands are on your hips, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the placement appropriate for the sake of Callie.

“You’re quiet,” he observes, discerning you.

Shugging, you answer honestly, “I want you to have your time with Callie. She’s really missed you.” One thing you’re most definitely not looking forward to is the discussion regarding the real reason for this surprise trip. You already know it’s going to make Joe feel awful, and that’s not the goal. You just don’t want to keep anything else from him as it pertains to Callie. He doesn’t deserve that.

“And what about you?” He asks, suddenly, “Did you miss me?”

Chuckling, you brush your fingers against his soft hair, pulled back in his go-to bun. “I always miss you, Joe.” The delivery is much more gentle than intended, albeit entirely true. Pre-Callie and Post-Callie, maybe even moreso now, Joe’s extended absences affected you in various ways. Being around him right now is making you more aware of just how much, even as your brain jumps to how nice it’ll be to not sleep alone tonight. That was something you always loved about Joe when he came to visit years back, how he would always bring you against his hard body, strong arms securing you. You always slept the best when he was in town.

Of course, this is way too vulnerable of a conversation to have with your daughter present, so you change subjects. “But, I also wanted to see Cody Rhodes, cause you know I’m team finish the story,” you tease, giggling at his instant scowl. It’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie. Cody is cool, but you’re Team Roman (Joe) all day every day. Still, it’s in your nature to stir up trouble and pick with him.

“Dick rider,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear but low enough for Callie not to.

Smirking, you lean down to whisper in his ear. “Naw, baby, that’s for you and you only.”

Trying to move away is a fruitless effort because he yanks you onto his lap, your thighs over his legs as he murmurs against your earlobe. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“Mommy, I wanna sit there.” Callie’s jealous voice suddenly enters the conversation, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at her pout. She’s so possessive. “He’s my daddy, not yours.”

You gasp quietly when he squeezes your ass, forcing you to climb off him. “You’re very right, Callie Bear.” Moving back to your chair, you taunt, “he’s not my daddy.”

It’s hilarious watching Joe control himself for the sake of Callie, but his expression tells you everything you need to know. If not for her presence, he’d have you bent over, taking every inch of his thick dick as he reminds you just who you belong to.

The image shouldn’t excite you as much as it does.

Sure enough, Callie climbs her little self back onto the sofa and back onto Joe’s lap, but the sound of an almost rhythmic knock at his door draws the attention of all three of you. However, before Joe can respond, the door is swung open, and based upon the lack of consent, you expect to see Alexis. Instead, you’re met with a different set of folks.

“Come in,” Joe says sarcastically, and you glare, standing up to greet them.

“Whassup, Y/N? Long time, no see, girl.” Jon’s introduction is so typical and expected, but it still makes you laugh. He’s always been a hoot to be around.

“Good to see you, Jon.” He hugs you, and you turn to Josh who’s also wearing a friendly grin.

“Lil hurt you ain’t hit me up to help you with the surprise.” He sucks his teeth but still hugs you, as you shake your head.

“I thought you’d be on Raw,” you answer. It’s the truth, even if who exactly helped you make this happen didn’t matter as much as ensuring it did in fact happen.

“That why you been acting weird?” Joe’s voice enters the conversation. “You knew?”

“We both knew,” Joshua answers as you give Jon a look.

He asks, “what?”

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms, “I told you not to tell nobody!”

“I didn’t! It’s just Josh.” He shrugs, and you can only shake your head. There’s a reason these two are so popular in the WWE. A lot of their promos could be ripped from real life interactions.

“Y/N!” Trinity's gorgeous smile is the first thing you notice followed by her surprise introduction, even before her colorful gear that you’ve always been so amazed by as she rushes over to you. She stretches her arm, “it’s so good to see you again!” Smiling, you accept her hug, tight and genuine. In the few interactions you’d had with her, she was also so kind and friendly. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed.

“It’s good to see you too, Trin.” You mean it. She's just a genuinely chill person.

Looking over to Callie, you see she’s still sitting on Joe’s lap, holding onto his hoodie, obviously trying to read the room full of strangers. Jon must notice this too as he looks her way as well, giving her that warm smile.

“And this….” He starts walking toward her, crouching down in front of the sofa. “---this must be the famous Ms. Callie.”

A small chuckle leaves your mouth watching her suddenly “hide” her face in Joe’s side, as one eye is still peaked open.

You whisper over to the group, “don’t let her fool you. She’s shy at first, but then she won’t be quiet.” It’s a conversation so similar to Callie’s first meeting with Joe which feels so long ago now.

Joe’s also clearly a bit amused at her sudden shyness and goes to introduce them. “Callie, these are my cousins, Jon and Josh.” She looks up with a quizzical expression and motions with her hand for him to lean down. He does so, and she whispers something in his ear. His smile grows as he answers, “they are.” Looking still a bit skeptical, she waves her hand again. Take two. He dips his head, and she whispers something else. Again, he answers, “yup.” At this, she gasps and jumps off the sofa, running over to you.

Callie hugs your legs and “whispers” to you with all of the excitement, “mommy, they’re my cousins too! I have cousins!”

It takes a lot out of you not to get emotional in this moment. She’s so damn happy at this news, at finding out she has more family. You lean down and push back some of her loose curls. “You surely do, baby.”

Finally pleased with the confirmation, she turns around and beams at the twins and Trinity, “hi! I’m Callie!”

There’s a chorus of laughter as Trinity speaks this time, “it’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

“You’re pretty,” Callie compliments, and Trin places a hand over her chest, clearly touched by her kindness.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet,” she awes as Josh joins in, introducing himself as Callie stares at him for a second.

“You’re a twin,” she says it like this is the first time he’s ever heard as such or even realized as such.

Josh does a good job going along with it, nodding and smiling. “I sure am.”

Callie suddenly turns to you. “Mommy, how come I don’t have a twin?”

“Because Jesus loved mommy enough not to do that to me.” Childbirth is equally horrific as it is beautiful, and while you’re forever grateful for your sweet child, you’ll never forget that pain. Pushing her out was torture. You can’t even begin to imagine having to do it twice, back to back.

Twins….never.

Josh suddenly chimes before Callie can present a follow-up question. “I have a little girl who’s a couple years older than you, and I can’t wait for ya’ll to meet.”

She gasps loudly. “I have more cousins?”

Jon sucks his teeth and answers, “Girl, you got so many cousins, you might meet em’ all before you turn 18.”

Her jaw drops. “I'll be really old then!”

Shaking your head, you start to counter her when Joe speaks up, calling her name.

“You have another cousin here tonight, baby girl.” There’s a second of confusion, but you realize he must be talking about Solo Sikoa. You hadn’t met him, as he came onto the scene after you and Joe separated. But as you told Joe, he’s free to introduce you to any and all family. You want this for your little girl. It’s obvious just from her reaction to the twins and Trin, she wants it as well. “Do you wanna meet him?”

It’s a no brainer, Callie nodding furiously as she runs to jump back on the sofa, sitting next to Joe.

He laughs at her enthusiasm and then calls out, “come in.” It’s loud enough for whoever is on the other side of the door to do so, and while you expect to see the final member of the bloodline enter the space, you’re thoroughly and shockingly surprised to see that you are very wrong.

Because through the door aren't the footsteps and subsequent entrance of Solo Sikoa.

It’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

While you’re in a semi state of shock, Callie is in a pure state of unadulterated delirium, and it’s entirely expected given she knows this man as something else.

Someone else.

“Maui!”

The entire room erupts in laughter as Callie rushes to stand in front of Dwayne who gets down on one knee to be more eye to eye with her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

Joe also moves closer and bends down, hand on Callie’s back. “Calista, this is my cousin, Dwayne, so that means he’s yo—”

“Maui is my cousin!”

This little girl is damn near screaming, but it’s so hard to tell her to quiet down when you’re pretty sure this may be the single most happiest moment of her life.

Next to finding out Joe is her dad, of course.

Once your own shock wears off, you pull your phone out to snap a few photos, almost wishing you knew ahead of time The freaking Rock was going to be present tonight. You also would have tried to make yourself look a little more presentable, especially when Joe introduces you to his cousin as well.

And of course because you’re the one who starts taking pictures, it’s only a matter of time before you’re dragged into a few of your own. It’s an easy pass, as you feel entirely underdressed with your all black one piece, long cardigan, and boots, having dressed comfortably for traveling. Not photo-ops.

But, it’s when Callie pouts and says so sweetly, all the innocence in the world, “but we’re a family” that it actually hits you for the first time.

You, Joe, Callie….you don’t just feel like a family. You are one.

So you push aside your vanity and swallow back the tears to partake in a slate of photos involving everyone to just you, Callie, and Joe to even just a couple of you and Joe. Your favorites are most definitely the ones with the three of you, especially one where Joe sits you down on his left leg and Callie on his right. He squeezes your side, forcing a squeal and laugh that makes Callie laugh as well, creating such an organic, beautiful moment between the three of you.

A family.

—-----------

The night keeps on bringing more and more surprises, the latest one being the fact that instead of hiding out backstage, you, Alexis, and Callie are seated ringside in the VIP section with other family members and close friends of the wrestlers.

It’s…..definitely not what you expected. You’re not opposed, especially since Callie was thrilled to learn she’d be much closer to Joe out here than she would from the back, but it’s just not what you were expecting.

It’s so…..public.

“How long does it take someone to walk out like da—”

“Alexis!” You scold her, even if you slightly agree. It’s not that you’re not enjoying yourself. You are. You just would much rather see your man, and you know Callie feels the same way. Every so often she’ll lift her head from her tablet, hoping to see Joe only to be disappointed.

You tried to tell her that as soon as she hears his music, he’ll come out, but that was nearly 45 minutes ago. A part of you wishes you could have found somewhere backstage to hide out as Joe and the others eventually had to leave to cut a promo.

So while Alexis' delivery is slightly off, she has somewhat of a valid point.

Rolling her eyes, she looks your way, asking. “Can you text him and tell him to hurry up?”

Shaking your head, you answer with just as much sass and sarcasm. “Yes, I’ll get right on—”

And that’s when you hear it.

“Oh shit,” Alexis pulls out her phone, instantly starting to record because this whole trip apparently needs to be memorialized with photo and video. Not that you’re entirely or in any way opposed. This is Callie’s first time at one of her dad’s shows. It’s special and should be documented in one way or another.

Looking to your side, you see her tablet is on the empty seat next to her, and she’s reaching for you to pick her up so she can see better.

Quickly obliging, you hike her on your hip and laugh at her excited expression. Her eyes are scanning all over for him, so you direct her to where he should be walking out any minute.

“I wonder whose music that is,” Alexis teases, and you turn with Callie to face the phone that’s capturing this moment.

Callie answers proudly. “My daddy’s!”

You and Lex laugh at her excitement that grows exponentially when Joe finally walks out, flanked by his cousins and Paul.

“There he is!” She points, and you smile, kissing her cheek. This is all so worth it, the pure joy and glee on her face. You follow her line of vision, focusing on the Tribal Chief himself.

Damn.

Joe is one fine ass man. That’s it. That’s the tweet. But when he’s in his Roman role? That confidence, that swagger……everything sexy about him is amped up times ten. You may have to rethink your stance on no sex for this trip.

It feels almost criminal to be around this man and not ride him until you can’t no more.

The naughty thoughts are temporarily pushed away when you notice Callie is nodding her head to Joe’s entrance music. Laughing, you and Alexis join in. Lex is still recording, and you’re actually happy she is because she gets it on camera when Callie throws up the one to ‘acknowledge' him. Your heart swells. There’s something about that moment that’s so precious to you, to see how connected she feels with him. How closely they’ve bonded. How much she loves him. And even more, how much he loves her.

As they near the ring, you notice how Joe branches off from them, and you assume it’s because of whatever this promo entails. But, you quickly realize it’s because he’s headed toward you. There’s this brief sense of panic on your end, meanwhile Callie gasps in excitement and reaches for him. Joe hugs her and kisses her temple. Touched at the gesture, you look at her only for Joe to take you by equal surprise when he grabs your chin and kisses you as well.

What…..the…..hell?

You’re not upset, just genuinely surprised that he would be so openly affectionate with you, maybe not Callie as much, but definitely you. So….public. You’re certain that your face is painted in shock the whole time, but it’s when he heads into the ring that you and Alexis share a look, Callie too focused on her daddy to notice anything else.

“Girl, if you don’t tell that man you love him, I’m gonna tell him for you.” She could be joking. She could be serious. You never really know with Alexis. “Because he literally just acknowledged you in front of all these people.”

There’s still a part of you that’s having difficulty processing what just happened. You were worried that Joe would feel some type of way about you and Callie coming to his job, just staying backstage, but this man really has you both ringside and broke character just to show you and Callie affection.

If there was ever any doubt in your mind regarding his feelings for you, tonight has completely demolished it.

Alexis is right.

You need to tell him.

And you need to tell him tonight.

________

As much excitement as the day has brought, you knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to your still very young child. Joe’s segment with The Rock ended up being the closing promo, which worked out great because Callie started to doze off a bit right around that time. And when you’re finally able to reunite with Joe backstage, she’s all but sleeping in your arms.

In having to buckle and unbuckle her in her car seat for the travel to the hotel, she stirs a bit, but as soon as you arrive and Joe removes her from the car seat, the end of the travels, you know she’s out for the night.

He carries her into the hotel room and walks her into the main bedroom while you place the bag you have for both her and yourself near the “living room” area. Joe insisted he could handle both the luggage and Callie, but you insisted that he instead focus on your little girl.

You also take a moment to take in that this is an actual hotel room instead of an apartment. There are literally two bedrooms separated by doors and all and two bathrooms, both of which rival the size of Callie’s bedroom.

It’s definitely not your local motel from back home.

Joe walks back in, no Callie in sight. “She is knocked out.”

“I knew she would tap out eventually. She’s been up all day, refused to nap.” He walks over to you, hands on your hips as he tugs you close. Your hands move to his chest. “She was too excited to see you.”

“Thank you, by the way,” he murmurs. “For bringing her.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “I almost didn’t. I—I didn’t know if you’d be upset I didn’t ask you first.”

His furrowed brows tell you that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Why would I be upset?”

You shrug, suddenly unsure of yourself, which is such a foreign feeling. Confident is always a word you’d use to describe yourself, but in this moment, having this discussion, it’s not as applicable. “I guess….I guess I wasn’t too sure if you’d want people knowing about me.” Your voice softens. “About Callie.”

And it’s true. It’s one thing for Joe to be out in public with Callie back home, but it’s an entirely different thing to be out in public in his world.

Granted, his public display of affection tonight should have squashed that concern.

Just your implication alone seems to be a dagger to his chest. Joe brings his hands to your face and speaks with such confidence and conviction. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed of us, and I’m damn sure not ashamed of my daughter. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Do I want to do an exclusive interview about us? Hell no. But, that’s because my personal life is nobody’s business but my own. I’m not hiding your or our daughter from anyone in my personal life, not my friends, not my family, and not the WWE.”

For a second, you feel bad for making him have to defend himself so staunchly, have to explain himself. It’s not necessary.

Not after he so openly acknowledged you and Callie tonight.

“I believe you,” you respond quietly. You move your hands up and down his chest in an effort to settle him. “I know you’re not ashamed. I’m sorry.” Remembering the video from earlier, you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. Locating it takes a matter of seconds. “I figured you’d like this.” You hit play and angle the phone so he can see, a massive smile growing on his handsome face. It’s like you can feel the tension melt away when he lays eyes on Callie.

Similar to yourself, he seems especially moved by Callie’s “acknowledgment.” You lay your head against his chest, whispering, “she really does love you, ya know.”

Just like her mama.

Video finished, you bite on your bottom lip, an idea crossing your mind. Such weak resolve indeed. “You know, she sleeps heavy…..very heavy.” His eyes narrow, intrigued by where you’re giving. Smirking to yourself, you head toward the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath in that nice big tub that could totally fit two people.”

In what seems like inhuman speed, Joe is in front of you, hand coming down on your ass. Hard. “Joe!”

“Get your ass naked. Now.” ________

His head is in the crook of your neck, lips pressing gentle kisses against the wet skin of your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, hands on top of his that rest under the water on your stomach.

“I always miss you too,” he murmurs against you, a nod to the brief conversation from earlier. Eyes closing, you rest your head back against his shoulder.

This moment is perfect, and you hate to ruin that, to take away from it. But, you also promised yourself that you would be honest with him, especially when it comes to Callie.

Turning around in the water, you straddle him, legs on either side of his large body. Before he can take your change in position to mean something else, you bring your hands to his face. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

You’re certain he can tell by your tone that whatever it is is serious. “Tell me.”

Fuck. This is harder than you thought it would be. “I wanted to see you, yes, but Callie….Callie needed to come see you.” You can tell he has questions, so you move straight into it, not wanting to delay the inevitable. “She’s been…she’s been different.” He sits up, fully immersed in the conversation. “Not bad, just….she’s been irritable with me at times. Even her teacher said something. You don’t see it, because she’s fine when she talks to you, even after. But when she can’t talk to you….” You shake your head. “I talked to my mom about it, because I was thinking she’s finally feeling whatever I caused when I ran off that night, but….that’s not it.”

You made the executive decision to not tell him, however, about her drawing or how she cried into your chest because she missed him so much and couldn't understand why he hadn’t come back to see her. This already must be hard for him to hear. There’s no need to throw salt on the wound.

You know the full truth would crush him.

“So then I talked to her.” You lower your hands to his broad shoulders, massaging them soothingly, voice softening as you finally tell him, “---and she told me she’s been sad because she misses you.”

You see it. The moment his heart drops. He’s crushed, eyes averting downward. His guilt is almost palpable.

“Please don’t do that.” Voice gentle, you bring your hands back to his face, urging him to meet your loving gaze. “You have done such an amazing job stepping into the father role, and it shows in how much she loves you. You go above and beyond for her. She just can’t grasp what it is you do because she’s too young to do so, but I talked with my principal, and I’ve got the time to take off, so I’m gonna take it. I’ll bring her to you.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s not an issue. Especially since summer will be here before we know it. I’m off then too, so we can make that work. We will make this work, because she’s our daughter, and that’s what parents do.” Your words are partially penetrating, that much is obvious, so you continue. “I really didn’t want to say anything, because I knew you would feel bad, and you absolutely shouldn’t, but I also don’t want to keep anything from you, especially when it’s about Callie. You’re her father. You have a right to know.”

“It’s why you didn’t tell me you were bringing her, because you knew I’d ask,” he puts two and two together. You’re not surprised. Joe’s always been annoyingly perspicacious and insightful. “Thank you…for telling me.”

Kissing his forehead, you remind him, “Calista loves you, Joe. Whether you’re in town or not. You could be doing a show on fucking Mars, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. She loves you.” You lick your lips, voice unintentionally light and soft. “And so do I.” It’s not a planned admission, not anything scheduled, just an honest, organic confession.

His gaze is on you, no longer as despondent but replaced with something more akin to surprise.

“I’ve always loved you.” You bring your palm to his cheek, his beard prickling against your skin. “The only reason I told you to leave was because I loved you, because it was too hard to be in love with you and not really be with you. And after all this time, I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

It's the truth. In the time he'd been absent from your life, you absolutely could have found someone and moved on. Maybe even settled down, but you couldn't. Because your heart was still with him.

You're pretty certain your heart will always be with him.

“That was my fault,” he acknowledges in a low voice. “I never told you what you meant to me, never took the steps to make you mine. Officially. And I was wrong for that, Y/N. Dead wrong. You always deserved better.”

Gaze softening, you murmur, “I always knew you were married, Joe. You never hid that from me.”

He shakes his head. “But I never—”

“It doesn’t matter—” it’s not entirely true. It does matter to you, you still want and maybe even have some degree of right to know just what the deal was with his marriage, why it took so long for him to divorce his ex-wife. However, at this moment, you don’t care about any of that. This isn’t about that. “I love you, and you love me. That…..that’s what matters.”

He looks like he still has more to say but is being respectful of what you want right now. So he asserts, “you’re with me now.”

“I’m with you now,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I’m with you always.”

Joe sits up, water pushing towards the other side of the tub. “You love me.” It’s more of a statement than a question, like he’s always known as such but was patiently waiting for you to openly admit to such. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Your lips connect for a kiss, passionate, hot, sensual, greedy. His hands are on your back, holding you close, your breast pressed against his chest.

Your mouth parts when he moves his hand to your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he plants wet kisses down your jawline. “Let me make love to you.” His lips are fire against your wet skin, and you can’t bring yourself to answer with his hands roaming your body under the water, fingers parting your folds.

All you can do is nod eagerly. Joe surprises you when he ensures your legs are locked around him, standing up like you weigh next to nothing. Bodies dripping with water doesn’t make a difference to him as he walks you into the empty bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, and lays you down on the bed.

“Baby, we’re all wet,” you point out, not that it changes anything. He’s hot and hard against your thigh, and you feel yourself subconsciously inching down to take him in. “We ca—ahhh.” Your fingers scrape down his chest as he sinks into you. You’ll never get over the feeling of him inside you, the equally painful as it is pleasurable stretch.

“Joe….”

His head is in the crook of your neck. “It’s always been you.” His hands go to your legs, your thighs, spreading them further, deepening his reach. “Always.”

He pins your hands above your head, by your wrists and you writhe under him. His pace is slow and intentional. This isn’t about either of you getting off, it’s so much more, much more deeper, meaningful.

“You’ve always been my home.” But, it’s when he says that, so beautiful and vulnerable, that any remaining resolve you had shatters. Tugging on his grip, he loosens his hold and your hands push lightly on his chest. You give enough pressure for him to recognize you’re trying to switch positions. In seconds, he’s on his back with you on top, lips connected with his for a sensual kiss, your hands intertwining again above the pillow as you ride him.

You break the kiss, unable to keep in your moan. He feels so good inside you like this, and you lean back, moving your hips in slow, methodical circles. You know he loves you like this, riding him, breast bouncing as he meets your thrusts. Joe's hand moves up your stomach to your breast giving a deliciously tight squeeze.

“God, I love you,” you whimper, feeling your release building up. It never takes long with Joe. He’s master of your body and all the ways to bring you to a mewling mess.

You’re taken back when he sits up, tugging you closer, his dick hitting a different, even better spot. He kisses you again, more sloppy, just as passionate. And you moan into his mouth as his big hands plant on your hips, controlling your movements.

“Fuck, Joe.”

“Say it again,” he directs, and you’re momentarily confused why he instructs, “tell me you love me, baby.”

“I love you.” It’s probably one of the easiest things you’ve ever done as your fingers lock in his hair, your head back as he licks up the nape of your neck. “I love you so much.”

Your words seem to send him over the edge as well, his mouth latching onto your nipple as he says against your inflamed skin, “let me come in you.”

That feels like a layered request, like he’s asking two questions in one, not that it makes a massive difference.

The answer is the same either way.

This man has your entire heart and soul, and you’ll give him whatever he asks for. Whatever.

Your finger knots in his scalp as you yank his head back, forcing him to look at you, “only if you come with me.”

His response is to switch positions again, this time laying you on your side as he fucks you from behind. His hand is planted on your belly, fingers spread and splayed as he talks you through it, carrying you into that wonderland of bliss and euphoria. Your hands scrape against the sheets as your orgasm rocks your entire body, and Joe follows shortly after, emptying his entire seed inside of you.

Bodies wet and spent, his mouth is still on your back as he breathes into your skin, “I love you….”

Chewing on your lip and moving onto your back, your gaze is on him, loving and content. “I love you, too….”

________

You and Joe take separate showers, a mutual agreement as you both know together would just result in another round. Not that either of you are wholly objected, but you also need to be available for your daughter should she wake up for some reason. Not very likely, but just the chance alone is enough to stay on the safe side.

As Callie is conveniently sleeping in the middle of the bed, you and Joe slide in on opposite sides. Interestingly enough, not even a few minutes pass before Callie stirs in her sleep and moves on her side, facing Joe. It’s heartwarming how he gently caresses her forehead, just watching her sleep.

“I’ve been thinking.” He makes a sound acknowledging your statement, but his eyes are focused on Callie. You know he’s taking in this moment, recognizing that in a matter of hours he’ll have to leave. That he won’t see her again for another almost two weeks. “What if we moved?”

At that, his eyes lift up, so you explain, “My mom is actually the one who brought it up. I didn’t see or understand it then, but I’m starting to get it now. You come to my place, Callie and I can come to see you here, but….we don’t have a place that’s ours.”

If this trip has shown you anything, it’s the importance of togetherness. Callie is most happy when you’re all together. She’s thrilled to be with Joe, but she’s most elated when it’s the three of you. You understand what your mom was trying to say. Callie wants family. She wants the three of you to be a family, and while there’s a lot of things that are untraditional about your dynamic, there are still paths to normalcy.

And one of those paths include having a home that belongs to the three of you, not just you or him, but a space for us.

“You would do that?” It’s hard for you to tell if his voice is so soft because he’s trying to avoid disturbing Callie or he’s deeply moved by your suggestion. Maybe both.

“Of course.” It’s an easy answer, especially when it comes to what’s best for your daughter. “I can teach anywhere. I have my mom and a few cousins, but that’s it. Almost your entire family is in Florida. You saw how easily she connected and bonded with your family. I want her to have that, and she can’t if we stay in my town. I told you before….she wants to be with you, and so do I.”

You spent so long wanting and dreaming of having that, you’re entirely done with running and overthinking. It’s done nothing but keep you from being with the man you love and want to do life with. It’s time to focus on now and embrace the future.

A future that includes your family.

“I’ll have my manager find us a realtor.”

There’s something so exciting and pleasing about this, most likely that it’s the first step of establishing your future with this man. You’re not sure the last time you felt such peace.

Yawning, you realize that while you feel exhausted, he must be drained. “Goodnight, Joe.”

Turning on your back, he wishes you a goodnight and anything else after that is lost to the drowsiness that precedes sleep.

But, it’s a sleep that doesn’t last as long as you’d like.

Having Callie has made you a lighter sleeper in general, so when Joe gets up and out of the bed, needing to get ready to leave, you’re up shortly after him. You don’t get out of the bed, just move so that Callie is right next to you. You know once he’s gone, she’ll be right under you, so might as well get a head start.

And it happens much sooner than you’d like it to, Joe on the side of the bed, crouched down, as he goes to wake her up.

It’s something he was entirely against until you told him that in talking to Callie, she made you promise that he'd wake up to tell her bye. She didn’t want him to leave without getting a chance to say goodbye.

So, he respects that.

“Callie…” You can see he still hates this, hates all of it. You feel it too. It’s not enjoyable having to see these two separated when it’s obvious how close they are. At the end of the day, you get to go home with Callie. He doesn't. “Baby, wake up.”

Helping him out, you give her shoulder a little shake. “Calista, come on, baby, daddy’s gotta go.”

She’s so much like her dad, a heavy sleeper, but finally she stirs, eyes blinking open. And as soon as she sees him, she also knows what time it is. She sits up and rubs at her eyes, moving to hug him.

“Bye.” Her soft, sleepy voice is both precious and heartbreaking, for a lot of reasons. You try to remind yourself though that she’s bound to be ecstatic when you and Joe break the news to her that you’ll all be moving in together. It’s just a matter of getting through this rough patch.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He kisses her temple and just as you predicted, she tucks herself into your side, readying to go back to sleep. Joe brings his palm to your cheek, “I love you too.”

Smiling warmly, you murmur, “I know....I love you too.” Easiest hello and hardest goodbye has always been such a cliched, overused, corny ass saying to you, but in this moment, you feel it wholeheartedly. “I’ll text you when we get back home.”

He nods, clearly pleased with this. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

That’s the silver lining. There won’t be as much of a stretch of time that passes between the time you get to see him again. And this pleases you as you give him one last smile before laying back down and dreaming of a future that isn’t as far out as you once believed.

It may be just around the corner.

________

Meanwhile in the Social Media-Verse…..

TRENDING THREADS

#1: R0m@n Re!gns new gf?

Original Poster: Sooooo. I was on Twitter being nosy, and people who attended the Smackdown show tonight are saying that RR stopped during his entrance to hug and kiss some woman and child sitting ringside. Can’t find any photos or video yet but will come back and add any that I find. Anyone got the tea?

Post #1: I thought he got divorced? I could have sworn I saw an article months about that.

Post #2: I saw the tweets too! Someone asked if it was his ex, but the wwe fanboys are saying the woman was too “fat” to be the ex-wife.

Post #3: That’s so interesting, cause I was watching live tonight (from home because broke bitch status) and the camera randomly cut to the commentators which felt like a strange move given Roman’s entrance is so iconic. I wonder if that’s when it happened.

Post #4: Ain’t nobody got no video or nothing? Didn’t happen. That’s not even aligned with his heel portrayal.

Post #5: @Post#4: He broke character clearly…..

Post #6: Omg yes!!! I was there tonight with my friend, and while we weren’t super close, it definitely happened. That wasn’t his ex-wife. Even from a distance, we could see that. And she’s not fat either, just curvy. Super pretty too. Like stunning. And yes, she’s black.

Post #7: I just saw someone on Twitter who claims to have been sitting near them say the little girl called him ‘daddy’ 😲

Post #8: I thought he didn’t have any kids??? Harpo who dis woman?????

Post #9: Damn, it must be serious if he acknowledging her while on the clock and playing daddy to her kid. Our man is taken taken, ya’ll. 😪

Post#10: This is wild. I just googled his name plus the word wife and came across like one picture from years back where she attended some charity event with him. I wonder what their marriage was like cause homegirl never went nowhere with this man.

Post #11: A lot of ya’ll must be new because the tea was spilled years ago in a legendary DR thread that he cheats. Apparently the wife did too. Seemed like an open marriage, Will and Jada type shit, just a lot more private and secretive.

Post #12: @Post11: I am new lol What was the DR? I need to know for…..research purposes.

Post #13: @Post12: Lol. Homegirl said he’s packing, the stroke game is immaculate, and that he’s a eater…..had her damn near speaking in tongues, going up yonder. So whoever this woman is….she’s winning in life.

Post #14: @Post10 That is so true omg. There’s like nothing there. I know he’s very private but damn sis you can’t make at least an annual appearance????

Post #15: That was his whore (mistress) turned girlfriend and the kid is (allegedly) his. She sucked and fucked her way to that “acknowledgement.”

Post #16: @Post15: Whaaaattttt? You sound like you have tea, sis? Care to spill. 👀

Post #17: @Post16: The truth will come out soon enough.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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kkocho · 3 months

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𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 [Mitsuki Kiryu x deaf reader]

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A lot of things were going through Mitsuki Kiryu's head as he looked at the older girl in front of him, who was offering him a cute bunny hair elastic to tie up his messy hair after beating up the guys in third period.

She was a year above him, quite popular for her position in the school choir, as well as one of the prettiest and easiest girls to approach if you needed help. This sempai had been extremely sweet and welcoming to him, ever since the teacher had left him in her care. Not only did she help him with his schoolwork, she also took care of his bruises from the fights he got into and prepared him a very sweet Bentō every day.

Mitsuki was aware that she could have done all that out of her kind nature, since she was nothing more than a kōhai. Even though, for him, she was more than a superior, every kind act she performed for him awakened the hope that, at some point, she would see him as a man. His desires were pure, because he hated looking at women with dirty eyes or as objects. His eyes were covered with pink lenses and affection.

He just hadn't imagined finding her in that situation, surrounded by the older three-year-old boys, against the wall behind the school, with frightened eyes directed at the small remains of her hearing aid on the floor next to the foot of one of the aggressors.

"Come on, there's no point in playing hard to get, I've already left that silly earpiece and you can't pretend you're not listening to me anymore," said one of the boys, as he lifted the girl's face towards him with a mischievous grin. "Now, what do you say about no-" He hadn't even had time to finish his sentence when a handsome kōhai with beautiful green eyes pulled him away from the girl, throwing him away.

It all seemed surreal to the girl. The destruction of her hearing aids may have been an advantage, as it prevented her from hearing the sound of the boys' grunts of pain, and in the end, the only thing left was her sweet kōhai in the midst of the bruised bodies of the third-year delinquents. She thought of nothing else but getting them out of there before a teacher caught them, as the fight had attracted a crowd of onlookers to the scene. With that, the girl grabbed the younger boy's hand and ran out of the place, which brings us to the beginning of this chapter.

With our dear delinquent looking at his crush, tending to the bruises on her hands and the hair tied up in her fluffy hair elastic so that she could check if there were any bruises on her sweet blushing face. He knew she couldn't hear him without her devices, but his small gestures were enough for him to understand how she felt in that situation, she was still in a daze.

"(N/n)-san, I'm sorry if I startled you," said the green-eyed boy as he gently brought the older girl's face close to his so that she could read his lips. This was answered with a shake of her head and her arms circling the boy as she hid her face in his neck, leaving him surprised and happy as she returned the hug. This sweet moment lasted only until the bell rang, which caused them both to separate.

"See you later, Mitsuki-kun," said the older girl's sweet, calm voice in a whisper as she fled the scene, leaving the boy behind with a silly smile.

"See you"

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note: i haven't seen many fanfics with this sweet boy, so i'm here ready to put my insecurities aside and write for him, mitsuki kiryu is in my top 3 wind breaker with him taking 2nd place and i hope more people write about him.

#kiryu mitsuki x reader #wind breaker x reader

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dancingtotuyo · 6 months

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9. the fear of what's to come

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You and Joel navigate life changing news.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, mentions of potential pregnancy complications including but not limited to miscarriage and stillbirth, single reference to a fetus being a child (not intended in a pro life way), angst, grief, complicated feelings surrounding pregnancy.

Notes: A huge thanks to my amazing beta readers and friends @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin & @janaispunk

If you have not checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3088

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

You know three weeks after your missed period what is happening. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s just like last time. Menopause crosses your mind briefly, but the symptoms don’t line up. You’re sensitive to the same foods, nausea rolls in and out like the ocean tides throughout the day. The insatiable craving for a tomato sandwich cements it two days later. Tears run down your cheeks as you quickly finish off the sandwich and prepare another.

You don’t get excited. You don’t make plans, and most importantly, you don’t tell Joel. You’re 45. Joel is in his late 50s. You know the statistics, the pre-end-of-the-world ones. You can’t imagine they’ve improved.

Instead, you just hope that when it happens, nothing goes wrong. There’s no DNC, no pills to make sure everything passes properly or ensure no infection sets in. You’ve aided many women through this, many much younger than yourself. Some make it just fine, others have complications with nothing but prayer, poultices, and 20-year-old antibiotics to help. You’re not sure what actually does it when the women make it through. Some of them you've buried. Their faces flicker through your mind. You cannot be one of them. You cannot leave Carter without either of his parents in this world.

You tell Maria. You tell her everything she needs to know. What to do step by step when it happens. Since Adam’s injury, Dr. Pooley refuses to practice anything more than simple first aid. You’re both certain it’s dementia. You spend most mornings listening to him talk through different lectures he attended. On the mornings his brain won’t cooperate, you sip tea together. He’s writing down what he remembers, but you have to fact-check it. He’s already taught you most of it anyway.

“You have to tell Joel,” Maria says when you tell her.

You refuse. You won’t do it. You won’t bring him into this. You have this silent agreement that you’re partners in this world, but he still lives in the house across the street with Ellie. There’s never been discussions about moving in together or anything past that. You don’t call him your boyfriend. He doesn’t call you his girlfriend. Making those commitments, those plans, it will hurt too much when the world takes him away.

Carter calls him “Daddy.” It makes Joel smile every time. He’s accepted that commitment. It makes you smile too, but there’s still a little ache in your heart each time. Carter knows about Gabe. You tell him stories all the time. If you ask him, he says he has two daddies. One here and one in heaven.

But you won’t tell Joel about this child. He’s lost one. He doesn’t need to lose another.

Maria fights you on it. She looks at her son pointing out that she was 2 years older than you are now when he was born healthy. You don’t remind her she almost died, but she sees it in your eyes. You still have nightmares about that night.

You’re firm. You’re not going to tell Joel. Neither will she, and she damn sure won’t tell Tommy either.

You wait for the cramps and the blood, but they never come. You hit the 3-month mark, your 2nd trimester at the beginning of October. You don’t cry in the bathroom. You square your shoulders. Second-trimester miscarriages happen. Stillbirths happen, but hope gathers in the depths of your soul, growing with each day. You push it away with logic and reasoning.

Two sides of you war against each other. You can’t bring another life into this world. At one point you were okay with it. You felt safe here, and while you still do, it doesn’t feel okay anymore. The world still digs its ugly claws into this community. Yet, the hopes you used to hold in your mind, the ones you had with Gabe, and the ones you had before the outbreak still linger. In a perfect, uncomplicated world, this is what you would choose.

You hide the sickness from Joel with relative ease. He’s often awake and out of bed before you for patrol shifts, early morning chores, or waking up with Carter so you can sleep in.

You deliver the Crosby twins a week later without complications. Melissa is only a couple of years younger than you, but at your age, you know how crucial those few years are. When you finally reach your front porch, you sit in the darkness of Wyoming and finally let the tears fall because fate seems to be telling you that this is happening, or just sending you another person to lose. The realization hits you like a freight train. Time is up. You have to tell Joel.

You crack open the door to Carter’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep and it relieves you to know he's here. You’re less on edge when he’s close, and It means Joel picked him up from Maria and Tommy’s. It means Joel is in your bed.

Sure enough, he’s there when you creep in. He sleeps on his side curled up over your pillow. You roll your eyes. Yes, it's endearing, but it’s also a pain in the ass to get your pillow back.

The bathroom light is blinding at first, but your eyes slowly adjust as you turn on the shower and steam fills the space. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you undress, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You’ve noticed the subtle changes in your body over these past couple of months, but they’re becoming more noticeable. Your breasts have grown, they’re so sensitive, and your sports bra pulls at the seams. Joel commented on it last week. You joked you were packing on extra weight for winter acting like it was nothing.

Your favorite pair of jeans no longer fit. You’ve mostly stuck to leggings since. You’re starting to clock the subtle changes in your body. They’re happening faster than with your last pregnancy. The past week, you’ve shut Joel down sexually, scared he would catch on despite your sex drive skyrocketing. It’s been difficult.

The shower washes away everything: the sweat and grime of the day, your tears, the tension in your muscles. You stand under the water until it runs cold, slipping on Joel’s worn soft t-shirt.

Your pillow is back on your side of the bed, Joel still on his side. A smile creeps onto your face. He keeps his eyes closed, but you know he’s awake. You don’t say anything as you slide into bed, but your anxiety spikes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You have to tell him.

You’re staring at the ceiling when he breaks the silence. “What happened?”

You suck in a breath. He thinks something went wrong tonight. He’s probably preparing to dig a grave. “Nothing, mom and babies are fine.”

“So it was twins?”

“Yeah.” You had suspected as much, but the ultrasound machine doesn’t work, try as you might to get it operational. You hadn’t been able to find a second heartbeat with the Doppler.

“So what’s buggin you?” His drawl is deeper, soaked with sleep.

He scoots a little closer, hot breath tickling your ear. You can’t move. You should look him in the eye when you tell him, but you can’t. The words are at the back of your throat surging forward toward your lips. The anxiety in your chest feels like a herd of buffalo stomping across the countryside. You squeeze your eyes shut to try and stop it.

“Sweetheart?” His hand reaches toward you, eyes trained on your profile as concern laces his brow.

“I’m pregnant.”

His hand stops over your arm. You feel its warmth so close, and then it goes away. You dare to look at him. You expect him to get out of bed and bolt. You don’t know why. He’s only shown you otherwise the entirety of your relationship, but this is more than either of you signed up for. Instead, you watch as it sinks in. He connects the dots, all the symptoms and signs that were right in front of his face, his subconscious absorbing them, but refusing to put it all together.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

You look back toward the ceiling, tears slipping from your eyes.

His hand covers your abdomen, forehead pressing against your temple. He starts to feel the changes to your body for what they are. You shudder.

“How long have you known?”

There’s not a trace of judgment or fear in his voice, but it does little to assure you. You’re scared. It doesn’t matter what Joel says or does, the fear is overwhelming.

“Beginning of August.”

“Shit, baby.” He pulls you into him, cradling your head against his chest. “You didn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I didn’t think it would last.” After months of holding the tears back, you finally let them out, a mix of relief and fear. “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to-”

You can’t finish it. You can’t say it out loud, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. You didn’t want him to lose another child, and it wrecks him. His grip on you is crushing, but it soothes your shaking frame. Just as you come down, his sobs greet your ear because he’s scared too. Every single fear and anxiety that has come over you the past months, he feels too. Maria’s labor and delivery flash through his mind. If that happens to you, who’s going to save you?

You reach up to cradle his face. He presses into your neck. Your skin is sticky and salty again, but you don’t even think about it as the man you love and can’t tell cries in your arms. You’re unable to return his soothing squeeze, but you lay there to provide any comfort you can. The two of you fall asleep tangled in each other.

You feel Joel’s fingers dancing across your abdomen before you’re fully conscious. There’s no rhyme or reason to his movements. His other hand brushes over your temple and through your hair. Every once in a while you feel his breath and lips across your neck, up and down your arm, over your collarbone. It feels like he’s memorizing you, fear present in all of his movements even now.

You finally open your eyes. His movements still as you look at him. There are tears in his eyes as his head falls forward, resting against yours. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” You reach out, nails raking across his arm.

He shudders under your touch. “I wish you told me sooner.”

You bit your lips. “I’m sorry.”

He lets out a deep sigh, kissing your forehead. His hand drifts to your abdomen again. You watch his eyes, so expressive filled with fear and anxiety and maybe a little bit of awe and guilt?

“I should’ve been more careful.”

You press your head to his, inhaling softly. “We.”

Joel’s fingers scrape along your jaw, his beard rough against your chin. “I like being a we.”

“Me too.”

Silence settles between the two of you. The wind knocks against the window, but it’s warm next to Joel. His arm snakes around you, tugging you closer to him.

“I suppose you’ve told Maria?”

You can’t hide the guilty smile on your lips. “If it makes a difference, she told me I needed to tell you right away. Pretty sure she was gonna tell you herself if I didn’t do it soon.” You mess with the collar of his shirt.

“How long do we have?”

“Figure it’ll be May. If we get that far.” You say. Joel nods and something clenches around your heart, a need to protect him, warn him of the danger. “You know there’s a lot of risks. No guarantee…”

“One day at a time.” He kisses your cheek but you see all the fear he’s pushing away plastered to his face like a movie poster.

Joel asks you how you are, but other than that, you don’t talk about it. You feel like a weight has lifted off your shoulders but there’s an anvil hanging above your head, waiting to drop at a moment’s notice.

You’ve outgrown your last pair of jeans. When you manage to trade with someone, they give you a look, like they know what’s going on inside your body.

You take more naps, sometimes at the clinic, sometimes on the couch. You’re constantly tired. Maria brings dinner to the house every few days. She never asked, but you don’t complain.

One evening you open your eyes to find Ellie staring down at you, worry etched in her features. It startles you at first.

“You’ve been sleeping a lot lately,” She says.

“You’ve noticed?” You pull yourself into a seated position. It feels like someone shoved a bunch of cotton into your mouth. You reach for the now room-temperature water on your end table.

“You only take naps when you’re sick or depressed.” You raise an eyebrow at her. She crosses her arms as if to say she knows you’re neither right now. “What’s going on?”

You finish off the water. Despite its temperature, it helps. “I’m fine.” You reach out, placing a hand on her shoulder, but it does nothing. At 17 years old, Ellie is turning into a woman before your very eyes. At times, you’re convinced any semblance of childhood has been replaced with adulthood, but there are other times you still see the slivers of the girl you met two and a half years ago. Right now, she’s the one sitting in front of you.

“Bullshit. What’s going on? You and Joel have been acting weird.”

Had things really been that different in the past couple of weeks? You open your mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. You and Joel hadn’t talked about telling anyone, which seemed silly. You can’t hide this forever.

The door opens and Carter bursts in with Joel on his heels. A smile instantly finds your lips.

“Mommy! Look!” He holds up a package of seemingly new Crayola crayons.

Your eyes widen with exaggeration. “Wow, buddy. That’s awesome.”

“John Lacy found a bunch of them on patrol. They handed them out today,” Joel smiles. “Grabbed you some colored pencils.” He hands a set of non-crayola pencils to Ellie.

“Thanks.” She smiles but is still distracted by her worry over you.

Carter crawls up beside you, eagerly pulling out the surprisingly intact crayons one by one. Joel leans over to kiss your cheek and tousles Ellie’s hair. She makes a face of displeasure but doesn’t fight him on it.

“You two look like you were talkin about somethin serious.”

“I was trying to figure out why the two of you have been acting weird,” Ellie says.

Joel’s drops to unreadable. He looks at you and you shrug in response. “We have to tell them eventually.”

Worry makes its home on Ellie’s face. “So something is wrong with you.with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” You sigh deeply. You run your fingers over Carter’s head, kissing it.

“You’re sure acting like there is,” She says impatiently.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimands, traces of his asshole voice laced into it.

Ellie bites her lip. It looks like she might be fighting off tears as she looks directly at you. “I’m worried about you.”

You force a smile, leaning forward. Your forearms rest on your knees. One would think it would get easier to say each time. Instead, it’s like picking at a scab that’s not healed. You’re forcing yourself to say something, your brain isn’t ready to accept. “I’m pregnant.”

Ellie sits up straighter, her eyes widen with shock. “Oh wow…”

You wonder if the pictures fill her mind too. She saw Maria the night Elias was born. She saw the blood that covered you. Joel’s fingers brush over your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before they run over the back of your neck. You lean against him. “I’m sorry we worried you. We’re still getting used to the idea,” You say.

She nods and then her arms around your neck. She basically knocks you backward with the force of it. “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

You squeeze her tightly, a faint lilt of humor in your voice. “Me too.”

Then her voice drops to a whisper right at your ear. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Your head rests on Joel’s bare chest that night. The full moon sends light drifting through your window, casting the room in a cool glow. You play absentmindedly with the hair on his chest. His heart beats under your ear. The room is otherwise silent.

“I told Tommy today.”

You nod.

“He wanted to know why I was so quiet. Told him I was always quiet.”

That pulls a smile across your lips. “Surprised he shut up long enough to notice.”

Joel chuckles. His arm around you tightens. His lips find your forehead. “I know we’re not ready to think too much about it.”

“Don’t think it’s something we can really ignore.” You nuzzle further into him.

“Baby steps.” He kisses your nose this time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Baby steps? Really?” You flip onto your stomach while you still can.

He chuckles. “Poor word choice.”

You kiss his bicep and then his shoulder. He looks at you like your entire world and your stomach erupts in butterflies and twists in knots all at the same time. You still won’t let him say it, but you feel it every time he looks at you like that.

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “What are these steps you had in mind?”

His thumb traces over your jaw and cheek. “Don’t bolt on me, okay?”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

He chuckles and then inhales deeply. “I think we should probably share a house. I figured you’d prefer to stay here, but it’s up to you.” He searches your eyes for any signs of panic or signs that you might shut down but finds nothing. In fact, you’re so calm that it’s hard to read.

“It would be nice to have you officially living here,” you say. It feels right to say, to think about. “And Ellie if she wants.”

“That was easier than I’d thought it would be.”

“You pretty much live here as is.” You turn on your side, nuzzling back into him. “I’ll miss your fireplace though.”

Joel smiles. “Guess I'll just have to keep you warm instead.”

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #hbo tlou #woman (joel miller)#woman (joel’s version)#woman #pedro stories #pedrostories #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal characters

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bucca2 · 1 year

Text

Shrike pt. 1 - words hung above but never would form

definition. male shrikes are known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling them on thorns

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, gender neutral reader for now but reader is afab and referred to as a girl, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander

4.8k words

tw: bullying, brief mention of cheating and domestic abuse (not explicit, mentions of violence, and not done by König), mention of terrorism, suicidal thoughts

[NEXT]

based on this post by @ceilidho, who gave me permission to write this! many thanks <3

this post is dedicated to @papaver-decervicatus, who I am so proud of for finishing chapter 4 of her fic cat/mouse/den (which I highly recommend) and eating NO glass in the process. her headcanons for König have had a huge influence on me, and while there are some differences between julius and alexander, I absolutely must thank Caedis for her wonderful portrayal of König.

and of course, to @danibee33, for fueling my König brainrot. without you, I probably would not have returned to writing <33

disclaimer, I am not Austrian, I do not speak German, so if there's anything that needs correcting, please do reach out!

You admit, you’ve always had an affinity for protecting the weak.

When you were twelve, a bird slammed headlong into your bedroom window. The poor thing had avoided snapping its own neck but was certainly in no condition to fly. You’d bolted out of your childhood home to check on it, but by the time you arrived, a huge grey tomcat was prowling, sitting back on his haunches and ready to pounce. You generally liked cats, but this one was a mean old stray, and you’d always been frightened to go near him.

Without hesitation, you had shoved the cat aside, spitting and yowling, and taken the little bird into your hands.

It took a few days to nurse back to health, and you still remember the day you released it back into nature. It was worth the long scratch down your arm, pride swelling in your heart as it spread its wings and flew into a vivid blue sky. You remember it even now: a charming little gray bird, a streak of black coloring over its eyes. A shrike, your mother had identified it as.

People are no different than animals, sometimes. People can be cornered, battered, and bruised as well. You recognize the broken hunch of the bird you rescued in the boy sitting by himself at lunch time. His shoulders curl inwards with a desperate need to go unnoticed. You’ve seen him around: he’s not in any of your classes, but your classes always seem to end up in the same hallways, so you pass each other all the time.

He jumps a little as you slide into the seat next to him, shrinking away from you in a way that breaks your heart. “Hey.”

No response. You offer your name, but he seems reluctant to divulge his own.

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

He shrugs.

“Thanks. I don’t know anybody at this school, so it’s nice to have a friend.”

“…friend?” He has a nice voice, you think. Timid, but almost sweet.

“Well, if you’ll let me call you one.”

“…”

And so begins your friendship with König.

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn

You didn’t call him that in high school, of course. You wouldn’t know that name until much, much later. It takes a while to coax him out of his shell, cajoling him that you can’t call him “green-eyed boy” forever, to get his name.

“Alexander is a very good name,” you assure him, and he seems pleased. He’s still hesitant to speak to you at all, but that’s just fine by you. You’ve got plenty to talk about, anyway.

“You know, I read this book about Alexander the Great. There’s this crazy story about one of his battles at a city called Tyre. He was laying siege to it after a misunderstanding with their king…” you chatter on, unaware of the intense stare from the boy sitting next to you.

“…ordinarily, sieging an island is pretty difficult, but you won’t believe what he did,” you rattle on. “He—”

“He built his own bridge,” Alexander says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him at first. You look at him in surprise.

“Yes! You know this story already?”

“I read a lot about him.”

“Then why did you let me ramble on about it if you knew about it already?” You’re a little embarrassed, having felt proud of yourself for knowing niche facts about historical figures.

“I like listening to you talk.”

That shuts you up for a moment. Only for a moment though, before you start to laugh.

“What?” he asks, an edge creeping into his voice.

“Nothing! It’s just—usually people tell me the opposite,” you say. “People say I talk too much.”

“I don’t mind.” His eyes dart to your face before looking away again.

“That’s good to hear. But I hope you know this means you’re never getting rid of me now,” you tease, nudging him gently.

He doesn’t respond, but for a second, you could have sworn that a corner of his mouth had turned up into a smile.

Learning more about him is like trying to draw blood from a stone, but you do your best. He mentions sharing a room with a cousin. His oma makes the best comfort food. Sometimes his mother takes him into town to buy candy, but he has to hide it or his cousin will steal it. Not that he cares that much—he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but his family doesn’t come from means, so it means a lot to him whenever his mother spares a few pennies to buy him a frivolity.

It's what he doesn’t say that tells you the most about him. The way he fidgets with his clothes when he’s nervous. The brief panic that shoots through him whenever you call his name before he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you. The way he shies away from people in the hallways, just to avoid any contact whatsoever.

The fact that he never talks about his father.

The way he curls into himself when he’s being bullied.

“You should be apologizing to me for being in my way right about now, freak,” Andreas taunts him. He’s knocked Alexander’s books to the ground, like some sort of cartoon caricature of a bully, and you’re fed up.

“Hey!” Without missing a beat, you slide yourself between Alexander and Andreas. You’ve recently hit a bit of a growth spurt, so you note with a bit of smugness that you’re at least an inch or two taller than Andreas. You’re also quite a bit taller than Alexander, you realize. The two of you are usually sitting when you talk, so you’ve never really noticed.

“Leave him alone!” You stand your ground even as Andreas fixes you with a withering glare.

“Ah, so you’re gonna let your big strong girlfriend fight your fights now, is that it?” Andreas sneers. Alexander stiffens behind you, and you decide right then and there that you’ve had enough of this nonsense.

“You’re the last person who should be bringing up girlfriends, Andreas,” you say, staring him down with a look that you hope is sufficiently intimidating. “Everybody knows Yulia broke up with you because you can’t get it up.” You don’t know Yulia. You don’t give enough of a shit about Andreas to follow the gossip about him. But by the way his cheeks get ruddy, you know you’ve struck a nerve. The handful of spectators your little confrontation has attracted snicker.

“You little bitch,” he snarls. You hear the gasp of the students surrounding you before you feel it. You put a hand to your rapidly reddening cheek.

The little twerp had slapped you.

“That’s what you get for getting in my way,” he says, with a smug little look that you want to wipe off his face.

You’re not a violent person. And honestly, you could have been expelled for what happens next. But you cast a quick glimpse behind you at Alexander on the ground, and something about the look in his eyes reminds you of that bird you rescued, and a quick and hot anger rises in you.

You punch Andreas.

With no wind-up, no warning, you break his nose, and he drops like a rock, howling and clutching at the blood pouring from his nostrils. A sick little giggle comes out of you as you watch, drowned out by the uproar of your little audience.

“What on earth is going on here?!” You hear a teacher roar, and the crowd quickly begins to scatter. Without hesitation, you pull Alexander up and escape before you can be subjected to the consequences of your actions.

“Boy, am I glad he didn’t put up more of a fight,” you say gleefully, high on adrenaline. “That could have gotten quite ugly.”

“I didn’t know you had that in you,” Alexander says when the two of you have gotten far away enough. The way he looks at you now is a little different—almost reverent.

“I didn’t know either!” you say. “I’ve never done that before!”

“Who knew such a pretty rose had such sharp thorns?” he mumbles to himself. Your eyes zip to him, and even he looks surprised at the words coming out of his mouth.

“A pretty rose?” you tease, nudging him on the arm. He flushes pink and turns away, but there’s a bit of a lopsided half-smile on his lips.

You’re not sure why, but the sight of it makes your skin tingle.

The first few years of high school are relatively uneventful outside of skirmishes with Alexander’s various tormentors. Your biggest regret is that you can’t always be there for him—sometimes you have to spend your free periods catching up on readings or speaking with teachers. But you’re always there for him afterwards, poison in your voice as you hatch plans to make his bullies’ lives miserable. The plans never go anywhere, but thinking about retribution always seems to make him perk up a little. And really, that’s all that matters to you.

It's silly, how long it took you to realize how much of a fixture he was in your life. There’s a street corner a few blocks from the school you always meet him at so the two of you can walk the rest of the way together. The few times you share classes, you’re always sitting together, exchanging notes and quietly judging your classmates together. And you always, always sit with him during lunch. Even when you start making other friends who surely would welcome you at their tables, you always return to the quiet green-eyed boy in the corner.

You tell yourself it’s because he’s lonely, and he needs the company. You tell yourself the rumors about the two of you are silly, the result of bored hormonal teenagers who can’t fathom being a genuine friend to someone of the opposite sex. You tell yourself it means nothing that your face feels warm whenever he smiles at you.

You never get the chance to figure out if it does mean anything. He gives you the bad news on the last day of classes before summer break.

“I…I see,” you say, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat. For once, you’re at a loss of what to say. His fingers twist around each other in his lap, the way they only do when he’s really anxious.

“Well, a fresh start is good, right?” You offer him a smile, but your heart’s not in it. Maybe you haven’t spent as much time with him as you used to back in first year—you’ve started to take more advanced classes, and you’ve been so swamped with homework and projects that sometimes hanging out with Alexander is put on the back burner. But you’d always taken comfort in knowing that he would always be there at mealtime. A steady presence in your life, as everything around you seems to be speeding towards a future you’re not quite ready for yet.

Now he’s leaving. You’d like to think your concern is for him—what’s to say his new school won’t also be rife with harassment? Will he be able to make new friends? Or will he be all alone at the lunch table again? But really, who are you trying to fool? The sudden heaviness in your chest is selfish. What are you going to do without him?

The roaring in your head stills as you feel his hand cover yours. You stare at it dumbly, unable to lift your head and look him in the eyes. Your gut feels like it’s flipping and twisting all over itself.

You lift your eyes to his. For one breathless, indescribable moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you. You lean closer to him, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your eyes slide shut.

A shout startles your eyes back open, and he jolts away from you. It’s your mother, calling that she’s here to pick you up. You let out a frustrated noise as you call back to her that you’re coming before turning back to him.

The moment is long gone, and your heart twinges with regret as he avoids meeting your gaze. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” you say softly. “And we can still see each other?”

“Of course I will, rosethorn,” he says, with that shy little smile you love so much.

You don’t see him for another ten years.

I couldn't utter my love when it counted I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now

It’s ironic, really. Saving birds. Saving boys. But the one person you can’t save is yourself.

Your life post-König is like the drop on a roller coaster, but with none of the thrill. High school flies by in a flurry of deadlines and mental breakdowns. It’s worth it when you get into a good university—at least, you thought so. In reality, there’s no work in Austria for someone with your degree. Your parents are older, well on their way towards retirement, so you find yourself unwilling to burden them. You’re lost, stuck, and so very alone.

And then you meet him.

Tall, handsome, a little older, with a blossoming career. In hindsight, how much of a perfect package he presented himself as was the earliest red flag. But when you’re young and behind on rent, anything better than that feels like a miracle.

You know better, really. You knew it the whole time. Getting married after knowing each other for 2 months isn’t as bad as it could be, but it’s still too quick for your comfort. But the eviction notice was on your door, and he was a perfect gentleman. What could go wrong, right?

Everything. He at least has the decency to keep up the façade for another month, but that’s the only credit you’ll ever give the man you’ve shackled yourself to. It becomes increasingly obvious that he only married you to have a live-in maid while he philanders around as he pleases. You try, oh god do you try, for five long, fruitless years. God, it’s so silly when you think about it. You liked him so much, it took you so long to realize he had never liked you in the first place. He’d scooped up the first desperate college grad he’d found, and thinking about it makes you want to hide from everyone you know.

Which you do: hiding from what few friends you do have, hiding from your parents, hiding from the part of your brain that screams that you’re wasting the best years of your life cleaning up after a grown man who won’t even touch you, much less fuck you. Your 20s are for drinking, one-night stands, and figuring out what the fuck the rest of your life is going to look like. There is plenty of drinking, but the rest of it, not so much.

You’re going to divorce him, you tell yourself in year six. Once you get a job, you’re out. But you’re no fresh grad anymore, and the 6-year gap in your resume isn’t helping matters. You spot a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel when he tells you you’re moving: his company is offering him a higher paid position, and it’s in a bustling downtown area. Plenty of opportunity for you, right?

That’s when he starts hitting you.

You’re away from your parents, your friends, your home. You took English classes, but that won’t exactly help you in this equally European foreign country whose language you don’t speak. Now that you’re approaching your 30s, your husband seems to be rapidly realizing that his youth is also disappearing. His new job is more stressful, and most days he has no outlet for it other than taking it out on you.

Now you long for the days when he didn’t come home until you’d already fallen asleep.

And then the terror attacks begin, and your once-bustling city shuts down. More isolation. Even less hope. You stay at home all day, torn between hoping someone will get rid of your husband for you and the abject terror of being left all alone in a foreign country torn apart by violent partisans.

That’s when the despair really sets in: you’ve wasted over a decade in this awful, dead-end relationship. Sure, you’ve got a roof over your head and food in your stomach: you should feel grateful. But you don’t.

You start hoping the attacks will take you out instead.

I fled to the city with so much discounted Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted

“There are mercenaries in town.”

You look up from your breakfast, lost in thought thinking about all the errands you have to run today. “Yeah?”

“About time we stopped relying on our corrupt fucking military,” he grumbles. “Maybe they’ll end this goddamn conflict once and for all.”

You don’t have much to say about that. What does it matter to you, anyway? The only conflict that matters to you lives at home, and you stopped trying to fight it a long time ago.

“The curfew’s a pain in the ass, though. You behave yourself, you hear me?” His sharp glare reminds you that he’s not saying this out of a concern for your safety: if you make trouble for him, you’ll pay for it later. You nod mutely.

Your morning goes by relatively uneventfully. You do the dishes, stare at the wall, sigh, stare at the wall some more. As much of a prison as this apartment is, you like it decently well when he’s not in it. Going outside and seeing the ravages of war all around you is anxiety-inducing. But you can’t put off buying groceries anymore.

The arrival of the mercenaries makes itself immediately apparent. The streets are somehow even emptier, and what people there are on the streets move quickly and cast suspicious glances at everyone else.

You were hoping not to interact with anybody, but your hopes are dashed when you see a checkpoint ahead, manned by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms. Although most of them are wearing different gear, they still look more orderly and well-kept than the country’s own military. Murder must pay well.

You look around nervously, but there’s no alternate route here, and nobody local going through with you. You strongly consider going home, but you’d just have to do this all over again tomorrow.

You steel yourself with a deep breath.

“Identification?”

You show the mercenary your ID with trembling fingers, gripping your bag tightly and praying he doesn’t find your nervousness suspicious.

“Where are you headed?”

“Just—just down the street,” you say, wincing at your heavy German accent. Years upon years of living here and you still sound like a foreigner. “Getting food.” You’re so anxious you forget the word for “groceries” for a moment. You only know enough of the local language to get by, and you’re sure you must sound like a kindergartener.

The soldier raises an eyebrow at you. “You are German?”

“I…Austrian,” you answer hesitantly. Oh God, you hope there’s no issue with that. You’re not so much afraid of being detained as you are of getting home too late to make dinner.

“Interesting.” The soldier hands back your ID. “Our commander is Austrian, as well.”

You perk up a little bit at that. You’ve met a handful of German-speakers here, but not a single one of your countrymen.

Well. Aside from the one who came here with you.

“He should actually be arriving here any moment now. Big guy in a hood. You can’t miss him. They call him König.” As if on cue, a military grade vehicle pulls up to the checkpoint, military personnel stepping out. And then…

Your blood runs cold.

Nothing, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of the beast that steps out of the car. Even from a short distance, you can tell he’s a colossal size. Two metres tall, easily, wearing a dark hood that reminds you of a medieval executioner. And as if that weren’t intimidating enough, two red trails, like bloody tears, are bleached under his eyes. His eyes, which must have some sort of black paint around them, giving him the impression of being two eyes staring out at you from the pitch blackness of the hood.

Two piercing green eyes.

Trained directly on your face.

Staring in disbelief.

“I…need to return home. I’ve forgotten something.” All worries about appearing suspicious fly out the window as the enormous man in the hood hesitates for a moment before making his way towards you with alarming speed.

You all but fly back down the street, making a beeline for your building. Just a few moments ago, you were excited to meet the man. Now, the image of his eyes staring into yours fills you with a fear you can’t describe.

The next day you take a long detour to avoid the checkpoint. It’ll take you twice as long to get home this time, but it’s worth it. You can’t put the shopping off another day: the brand-new bruise on your arm throbs as a reminder. And you certainly don’t want to run into the hooded soldier again.

You get your shopping done without much fanfare. The old lady cashier, who usually looks at you from over her glasses with the stern look you’ve seen a lot of people around here level at foreigners, even pressed a piece of candy from behind the register into your hand. You’re pretty sure it’s just because she wanted to get rid of it, but it does wonders for your mood.

You’re busy plotting when to enjoy your little treat when you turn a corner and freeze.

He’s here. He’s there, standing in an alleyway near your building. Somehow even larger than you remember him yesterday, still wearing that awful hood.

Does he know where you live? You curse yourself for running straight home yesterday. He must have seen the direction you went in—or did he follow you? You attempt to quietly retreat and take another route home, but your shoe scuffs a paving stone. And like a hawk spotting its prey, his head darts towards you.

You book it.

“Wait!” calls a deep voice. Tears spring to your eyes as you hear heavy footsteps pursuing you. What have you done to deserve this? You’re no criminal. Your only crime is being a naïve dumbass in your twenties.

Your arm burns as you turn corner after corner, not bothering to take note of where you’re going. It’s no use, though: you can hear him gaining on you. Fuck, is this it? You can’t even fathom what he wants you for, and you don’t want to think about it either—

“Rosethorn!” You come to a screeching halt.

There’s only one person who has ever called you that.

You turn around, chest heaving with exertion, as the hooded soldier—König, the soldier said his name was—comes into view, approaching you slowly.

“It’s me,” he says, holding his hands out like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not really sure what the point is, considering the gigantic knife he’s got strapped to his thigh is intimidating all on its own, but somehow it still puts you at ease.

“Alex...?” you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

“Yes,” he says. His posture has changed from when you saw him at the checkpoint. He’s hunching over, trying to make himself smaller. It reminds you of that first day when you sat next to him at lunch.

It’s him.

You instantly drop all your bags and cling to him in a hug, tears spilling from your eyes. He’s so different: most obviously, he's so tall. He must have hit some growth spurt after he moved away, because he towers over you now. You can feel under all the gear that he’s put on serious muscle—not surprising for a soldier, of course. And when his arms fold themselves over you, you’re filled with a sense of safety you haven’t felt in a long time.

“What are you doing here?” you both ask at the same time. A giggle bubbles out of you as you watch his eyes crinkle in an obvious smile. God, his eyes are so green.

“I’m stationed here because of the conflict,” he says. “But what are you doing here? I contacted your parents, and they said you had moved here, but they didn’t say why.”

You’re not surprised. You’re still in contact with your parents, but you don’t talk about the elephant in your home. You know they would have helped you, if only you had asked for it, but you never have.

“I…it’s complicated,” you say, withdrawing from the hug. You stare at the ground, brushing away the wetness in your eyes.

“I have nothing urgent right now,” he says, staring at you intently.

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I…got married,” you whisper.

Instantly, his body language changes, stiffening in shock. He takes a half-step away from you, which makes you want to cry all over again. This is awful. This is humiliating. You wish you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself.

“I see,” he says in a strangled voice. “Congratulations.”

Despite your best efforts, the tears spill over again. “No, not congratulations,” you say. “It—”

It was the worst mistake of your life, you want to say, but you just can’t get the words out. He must notice you beginning to quake with fear, because he raises a hand to touch you gently on the arm—right on the bruise.

His stare hardens as he watches you flinch. “Rosethorn, what’s the matter?”

Everything, you want to say. I’m standing in an alleyway with my childhood crush, shaking like a leaf because a monster lives in my house, and I can’t get away from him.

With a feather-like touch surprising for a man with such large hands—he grew so much— he goes to push up your sleeve. You catch a glimpse of the bruise before you have to turn away again, shuddering. It’s ugly: black and green, and very clearly shaped like a human grip.

“I…bumped into a shelf,” you say lamely. You can’t bring yourself to rope him into your troubles. He’s a soldier now, for Pete’s sake. He has bigger problems.

You can’t read his expression due to the hood—but there’s a blazing anger in his eyes you remember all too well. The quiet fury you often saw in him so many years ago.

He must see in your expression that you don’t want to be questioned about it right now, and thankfully, he relents. With an ease in his movement that must stem from some newfound confidence, he reaches over and picks up your bags for you. “Let me carry these for you.”

It’s nice, to be taken care of for once.

Your mad dash took both of you quite far away from your building, so you have enough time for quite a nice little chat. You tell him about your time in university, he tells you what happened to him after he moved away. He’d jumped at the chance to enlist as soon as he turned 17, on the recommendation of an uncle who had spent time in the military. You laugh when he tells you that they wouldn’t let him be a sniper, a pout in his tone. You could have imagined him as a sniper back in high school, but he’s so large now it’s impossible not to notice him.

“The discipline was good for me,” he recounts. “I needed to grow a spine.”

“Don’t say that. You were just trying to get by in school, like everybody else.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to be like you.”

“Like me?” You ask incredulously.

“My rose with thorns,” he says, with a fondness that makes you blush. “Do you remember that day you punched that punk Andreas?”

“How could I forget? My fist hurt for days,” you say with a grin. “But I didn’t regret it for a second.”

He looks down at you—that’s new—with pride in his eyes. “I thought about you that day all throughout training,” he says. “You were my guardian angel.”

Your cheeks grow even warmer, and you feel like a teenager again. How can he still make you feel this way so easily after all this time? “He had a punchable face,” you say dismissively. “If not me, then it would have been someone else.”

You’re almost disappointed to arrive home. Only yesterday, home was your sanctuary. Now, it means being separated from the one person you trust fully in this country. You turn to him, almost bashful. “This is where I live."

He sets the bags down like they’re made of fine china, and he’s standing so close you almost stop breathing. The air is charged, the same way it felt that night when you almost kissed. You watch him as he watches you.

“Can I see you again?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” you say, and the sparkle in his eye dazzles you.

You watch him leave until you can’t see him anymore. And for once, you enter your home with a light heart.

Remember me, love When I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just drop a reply! feedback is always appreciated, and my inbox is open, so please feel free to drop me an ask! I will 100% write little scenarios/headcanons about this couple because I have so many thoughts and ideas for them lol

I anticipate about 2-3 parts for this, maybe with König pov in the next part? he doesn't come across this way in this part, because it's from Thorn's perspective, but he is a very nasty boy indeed. also, I know putting lyrics in the middle of a fic is so passé, but I can't help myself. it's hozier! indulge me. also this isn't beta read so I really hope it doesn't suck

#bucca writes #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #fic:shrike

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just-dreaming-marvel · 7 months

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LEGACY ~ 1

MAIN MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,600ish

Summary: The Team comes home from a mission.

Notes: From here on out, it's going to be written in 2nd person. Also, if you've read the original character Legacy series on my Tumblr, you will start to notice that I've changed some things up. I hope that you enjoy the changes.

You walked from the elevator, over to the couch next to the wall of windows overlooking the New York skyline. It was a beautiful view and one of your favorite places to get work done. Sitting down, you curled your legs underneath you and readied your Stark Tablet for sketching. You hated days like this, boring and yet completely nerve-wracking all at the same time. The Avengers were away on a mission, trying to find Loki’s scepter and finish off what they believe to be the remaining section of HYDRA.

As you sketched a possible new Iron Man suit, you heard some rustling coming from Bruce’s lab upstairs. Looking up at the lab windows, she could see people in lab coats setting up equipment. You furrowed your brows as concern grew. You knew that they only set up like that if someone was injured, especially when Dr. Helen Cho was in town, which she was. Your head snapped to look out the window as you heard the sound of a quinjet coming close.

You jumped off the couch and rushed for the landing pad. Maria Hill and Helen were already there waiting for the jet.

“Miss Stark,” Maria greeted as you came to stand beside her.

“Maria, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to be formal with me just because you work for my dad?” Y/N responded.

“Maybe when you’re older.”

“I’m almost nineteen.”

“Then you’re going to have to wait until then.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention to the lowering ramp of the quinjet. Helen rushed forward with members of her team, quickly entering the jet and pulling out a stretcher with Clint laying on it. Natasha was clearly worried and at his side. They hurried past everyone as they headed for the lab with Bruce not far behind. Maria and yourself made sure the ramp was clear before heading into the quinjet. Thor stepped onto the ramp, heading off, with a case in his hand. He smiled when he noticed you.

“Little Stark!” He exclaimed happily.

“Welcome back, Thor,” you replied with a smile. “How’d it go?”

Thor opened the case, revealing the scepter. “As planned.”

“Good.” You gave him a slight nod before continuing into the jet.

“Lab’s all set up, boss,” Maria told Tony.

Seated in the pilot’s chair, Tony put his hand up on the nearby handlebar and turned the seat around. “Actually, he’s the boss,” Tony replied, pointing to Steve who was sitting on a step facing away from everyone. “I just pay for everything and design everything and make everyone look cooler.”

“What’s the word on Strucker?” Steve asked Maria, standing up and heading for her.

You cringed at the name. Though you didn’t remember much from your life before Tony rescued you, that name rang a bell. You knew that Strucker was an evil part of your past, if only you could remember it.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay?”

You shook your head to clear it. “Yep,” you replied quickly. “All good.”

Steve seemed to not believe you, but didn’t put up a fight. He shot you a small smile before leaving with Maria. You sighed and headed toward Tony, who was still powering down the quinjet.

“Glad to see that you came back in one piece,” you teased as you leaned against a wall of the jet opposite of where Tony was working. “When I saw the lab being set up, I thought I could be for you.”

A slight smirk crossed his lips. “I would never let anything like that happen to me. I’m much more careful than Barton.” He took the few steps needed to close the distance between you and him, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I have you to take care of.”

“I’m pretty sure I take care of you more than you take care of me now.”

“Whatever.” He threw an arm over your shoulders and the two of you started out of the quinjet. “What have you been up to while I’ve been away?”

“Oh, you know, the norm. College, Stark Industries work, training, the designs that you’ve yet to finish.”

“And that is why I keep you around. Are the designs done?”

“Almost.”

“And my suit upgrade?”

“Yes, the upgrade is finished, I just wanted to get your approval before making it official… there’s also one more thing I wanted to run by you.”

“I already know where this is going, and we are not discussing this again.”

“Dad, I’m not the one who said I was ready and now that HYDRA is mostly gone, I don’t see the problem with me joining on missions. We shouldn’t have as many anymore, anyway.”

“Not going to happen.”

“I’ve passed every test Natasha, Clint, and Steve have thrown at me, including all the basic SHIELD tests.”

“SHIELD doesn’t exist anymore.”

“They are the ones who said I was ready, and I believe I am too.”

“You’re not joining the Team. That’s final.”

Tony’s arm slipped from your shoulders as the two of you reached the elevator. You two made brief eye contact and you could immediately tell that something had happened to Tony on that mission. Something that shook Tony to his core. He quickly looked away when he noticed that you were reading him like a book.

“Dad. Something happened out there.” He didn’t give a response. “I know you. Talk to me.”

He forced a smile. “When did you get all grown up?”

“Dad.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Maybe later. We need to go and check on Barton. There’s also a few tests I want to run on the scepter before Thor takes it.”

The two of you entered the elevator and headed up to the lab. Upon immediate arrival, you and Tony checked in with Clint briefly. He, Natasha, Helen, and some others were in a smaller glass room inside of Bruce’s lab. Clint was lying in what Helen called The Cradle. The machine was working on healing him. While you were in there visiting, Clint complained about being thirsty, so you left with the promise of returning with drinks. Tony and you walked down the view stairs to the main portion of the lab as Bruce was walking up the stairs.

“How’s he doing?” Bruce wondered.

“Unfortunately, he’s still Barton,” Tony replied.

“That’s terrible.”

“He’s fine,” you added with a laugh as you went over to the kitchenette off to the side of the lab. “He’s thirsty.”

Bruce chuckled before heading into the room to check on Clint himself. You started getting everything out to make smoothies.

“Alright,” Tony clapped his hands together, “look alive, JARVIS. It’s playtime.” He headed over to the table where the scepter and its test readings were located. “We’ve only got a couple of days with this joystick, so let’s make the most of it. Update me on the structural and compositional analysis.”

“The scepter is alien,” JARVIS stated.

“Well, no duh,” you muttered to yourself as you worked.

“There are elements I can’t quantify.”

“So there’s elements you can?” questioned Tony.

“The jewel appears to be a protective housing for something inside. Something powerful.”

“Like a reactor?”

“Like a computer. I believe I’m deciphering code.”

“That’s interesting,” you commented as you poured the finished smoothie into cups. “So the scepter is a device of some sort?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Miss.”

Tony walked over and grabbed two trays for the smoothies. “You want to help figure it out?”

“Really?” You were way too excited about researching this with your father.

“Only if you feel up to it.”

“I’m up to it!”

Tony laughed as he placed the smoothies on the trays. “Great, as soon as you finish the work Pepper needs you to do for the week, you can help.”

“Dad, you know that I’ll never be able to help with the amount of work Pepper needs from me.”

“Then I guess you best be off to work then.”

“Fine. Don’t spill the drinks on your way up.”

“I would never spill!”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your Stark Tablet and headed out of the lab. You began pulling up all the work Pepper needed you to do as you started down the stairs. Not watching where you were going, you bumped into Steve. Your head snapped up to see him smiling at you, his hands on your arms to steady you.

“Sorry, Steve,” you apologized.

“It’s no big deal,” he chuckled. “What are you working on?”

“Stuff for Pepper. Which mostly seems to be planning for the party Dad is throwing in a few days.”

“Are you going to be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good, then, if you’re not too busy that night, save a dance for your best friend?”

You giggled. “It’s not that kind of party, Steve.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“Fine, I’ll save you a dance.”

“Great. I’ll see you around.”

Steve headed up the stairs as you caught your lip between your teeth, watching him leave. Your heart ached for something–or someone–you felt you couldn’t have. What once was a simple crush, had definitely grown into something more. Besides the fact that Tony would never allow it, you were almost nineteen and Steve was, well technically over a hundred years old. The only thing that gave you a sliver of hope was that your healing abilities would allow you to age slowly like Steve’s super soldier serum.

Once Steve was out of sight, you sighed and started back down the stairs. Maybe one day you would act on your feelings, but that day wasn’t going to be any time soon.

next chapter >

#tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x daughter!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #avengers imagines #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel x reader

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py-dreamer · 6 months

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WOAH! 2 UPLOADS BACK TO BACK?!

Don't get too excited but yea, I've had these two in my back pocket for a long time now, just didn't really have the motive to finish them per say

Commission for designs for a fic my friend is writing so go check it out!

vvvv

I know it looks very different from the tight spandex miraculous designs but I definitely wanted to incorporate that LMK style with like armor and extra....like fabric on the sides? Just extra bits and bobs to make the designs interesting

But for me the most important parts were to make the purpose of the miraculous obvious, make them look cool and hide their identity (I think they'd look quite different from their human civilian forms)

Oh! And in case you haven't noticed, the miraculouses aren't animal themed anymore. Mainly because especially for the monkeys and dragons, it didn't make sense for them to have multiple miraculouses with the same animal. But it still keeps the theme of magically specialised powered jewels with one specific power outside of enhanced natural abilities with the akumatisation process

(spicynoodles of course)

(my friend and I developed so much brain rot behind the scenes, someone gets impaled, have fun guessing who!)

I'm gonna be honest, never really liked the sleek spandex polkadot suit that much so decided to go in a different direction

I do really like how Mk's design came out with the fluffy jacket and everything. I was wondering how to include like the feathery bits on top when I saw this fanart of Wukong wearing a cap and the two bits were sticking out like that and just stole that lol. I personally do really like the mask, again inspired by wukong's opera makeup

Red son was more tricky though, his design specifically the top area needed a lot of finessing and I saw this one other fanart of his fiery hair being blue at the end and man! it looked cool but I could not for the life of me figure it out, I did steal the bull mascarade mask from my the cat returns piece but hey it looks cool! And I didn't have a lot of ideas for other masks. Fun fact, the brown prayer beads are inspired from his days as a disciple under Guanyin.

Even though I'm not doing that tight spandex bs, I still wanted the two to look cohesive, and look like a team unit, I hope they do

Let me know any opinions! I'm very curious, the new style yay? Or nay?

(Also my friend wrote the 2nd chapter after I showed her the designs, Mk ISN'T meant to have a yellow cape. NO CAPES FOR THIS LAD)

#lmk #lego monkie kid #py's_art #lmk mk #lmk au #qi xiaotian #lmk red son #hong hai'er #lmk spicynoodles #spicynoodles #mlb au #miraculous ladybug au #commission

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createandconstruct · 3 months

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Izuku Still Has All Might’s Piece of OFA

I had this theory before but now that there’s confirmed to only be 5 chapters left I’m doubling down. An analysis(?) on how Izuku isn’t going to end the story quirkless because All Might’s piece of OFA is still within him.

All Might’s vestige is thrown at Tomura. And that’s seemingly that. But I started thinking. I doubt Horikoshi is finished with All Might & Izuku after their brief chat in 424. They were the beginning of the series, they’re sure to be the end. Izuku worked so hard to make OFA his own, only for him to lose it.

It’s devastating for Izuku. This was a gift specifically from All Might. His childhood idol. It was poetic too. In the same way quirks are passed down from parent to child-through the passing of the current holder’s DNA-OFA is passed from predecessor to successor.

So having said that, wouldn’t it make some narrative sense, if, despite losing the whole of OFA, the additional quirks, the strength of 7 previous holders, Izuku is still left with one piece of it: his mentor's piece. The problem is All Might’s piece & vestige are gone…right?

I don’t for one second doubt Horikoshi’s attention to detail. In this final panel the vestiges join together with Tomura to pummel AFO. And EVERYONE can be accounted for. Yoichi is held by AFO & the 4th is obviously missing as he was the only quirk factor/vestige stolen

So… where the hell is Toshinori?

This is the final punch of the final battle. All Might’s foe, the reason for his injury, the reason he lost Nana. It feels wrong that he’s missing for the final hit. & you’d be right, if he was missing. But his signature smile is right there! Sitting on the shirt of his successor

AND in this panel we see the same holders accounted for as they punch AFO from WITHIN. So why is All Might’s symbol on Izuku’s side? Why isn’t his vestige with the others, signifying the transfer of his piece & the fulfillment of his duty within the power he helped build?

Now to play devil’s advocate you could argue it’s because Toshinori has no quirk. The 4th was missing because danger sense was taken. The 2nd explains that each “vestige” & their respective factor is one piece of the whole that is OFA. Meaning each piece can be taken/transferred.

Toshi was quirkless. He had no factor. His consciousness within OFA is because he made the quirk his own. OFA IS All Might’s quirk. It’s why those embers remained for him. Izuku explains that it’s the same for him as well. Izuku made OFA his own, & those embers took root.

But I can’t help but feel like those remaining embers within Izuku in the current chapters aren’t actually all that’s there.

In the whole lead up to the confrontation within Tenko’s origin we see All Might’s vestige lined up right there with the other holders.

There’s not a single hint that Toshinori couldn’t be transferred as a separate piece. If Toshinori’s piece couldn’t be thrown at Shigaraki in the same way as the others due to his quirklessness then why would Horikoshi include him on the transfer attack?

And while All Might says that he felt Izuku transfer it, the scene we flashback to in 424 is before All Might’s vestige is seemingly thrown. It’s when he simply notes the feeling that the power is coming unraveled, piece by piece because Shinomori had been taken.

He felt the emotions from his consciousness within OFA & knew the power would need to be transferred to win. You could argue that panel was used because it's the last panel we saw All Might & where he noted the shared consciousness but…I keep coming back to that final hit.

Izuku isn’t content with things. He says he glimpsed his dream. Not that he achieved it. It’s not enough for him that he saved Japan. He wants to continue saving. He wants to be the greatest hero just like the man he admires most.

This kid worked so hard, nearly killed himself multiple times just to measure up, & still thinks receiving OFA was a miracle. I'm not sure what exactly will keep AM's piece but I feel like it will be his desire to support Izuku. To cling to him & give him the power he deserves

From the very start, All Might didn’t give Izuku OFA to fight a war. Toshinori gave Izuku his quirk because he too was quirkless with a dream. He wanted to make that quirkless boy's dream come true. Obviously Izuku's dream isn't over. "OFA" is gone, so is All Might, but Toshinori isn’t.

Toshi is absolutely going to do everything to help Izuku make his dream come true. But wouldn't it also be a perfect bookend if we, along with Izuku, discover that what he thought were embers were actually the remaining flames of Toshinori’s power. The single vestige left behind.

With that power, Toshinori's Power, that he honed for 40 years, Izuku can carry on his dream of being the greatest hero just like his idol and Toshinori can keep his promise to raise Izuku and see him say to the world, “I’m here.”

After all they've been through I think they both deserve it.

#bnha #mha #mha spoilers #izuku midoriya #toshinori yagi #all might #dad might #dadmight #yes this is dadmight propaganda #mha theory

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hierba-picante · 4 months

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I'll Be There Ch. 2

Didn't read chapter 1? Well, here it is!! :]

Edit: Fic is now on AO3!

WEEEE CHAPTER TWO!!

Summary: YIPEEE YOU GOT THE JOB!! :D Now you gotta tell your little brother the good news!

Word Count: 7.7k!

Tags!: gn!reader, many hijinks, no use of y/n, Gregory is a little shit, the daycare attendants are goofy, Moon, Sun, and Eclipse are all separate animatronics!, Daycare attendants have transatlantic accents, Alternate universe- Canon Divergence, self insert, 2nd person POV, slight angst, comfort,

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Gregory finished his last bite of pizza, happily taking a sip of his soda to wash it down. The pizza itself was one of the best he’d eaten. Served hot and loaded with cheese and sauce, each bite was just as good as the last. The crust itself was good too. Garlic seasoning on it with specks of cheese baked on top of it. Pleased with himself, he packed his left overs in the box it came in. He couldn’t help the swing of his legs as he looked around the food court, absentmindedly drumming his full stomach.

“But…I wanted that one…I want the cone” her voice cracked.

Noting the few families sitting at their assigned tables, he glanced at a pair of siblings. An older brother laughed as his little sister spilled ice cream on the table. Her fishbowl eyes watering as she stared blankly at her now empty ice cream cone. Her brother grabbed a napkin and wiped her face clean. Taking a new napkin, he dried her tears.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a new one. In a cup this time okay?” he cooed as he helped his sister out of her chair.

The older brother gave a small smile and picked her up. “You still have your cone, you can take a bite of it as you eat your new ice cream.”

Her eyes twinkled, “Yeah! I can!” Her legs excitedly kicked against her brother’s abdomen. He winced a bit as he carried her away.

Your little brother couldn’t help the slump in his shoulders. When was your interview done? How long could a retail position take to interview? He grumbled as he sunk in his chair. Irritated eyes glancing over to another family at a table.

Two parents were seated with their baby boy and daughter. Their father was cleaning the little boy’s face while their daughter took bites out of a pizza. Gregory’s posture straightened a bit, watching the parents give attention to the boy. He felt the ends of his mouth curl downwards. The father’s phone rang. He briefly looked down at it, dismissing himself from the table with a kiss to his wife. Passing his toddler over to his oldest, who happily carried him on her lap. She offered a sip of cola to her sibling, who excitedly grabbed at the straw. Their mother affectionately tucked the hair behind her daughter’s ear.

Gregory ripped his eyes away from the happy family and took a shaky breath. Clammy hands gripping his box of pizza as he walked away. Jealousy gripped at his chest. Your interview had to have been done by now, it just had to.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Pansy had walked you out of the daycare, showing you how to use your employee watch. It was a baby blue banded wrist accessory, adorned with happy clouds smiling up at you. She showed you how to open the door and reminded you to not worry about locking it. It had its own self locking system. Amongst door accessibility there was also communication within the watch. Not just from Pansy but from the company as well. They had been kind enough to implement a small map you were able to open in the watch if you needed. A little orange dot to mark where you currently were. An emergency call option was also given to you, in the case you didn’t have your phone on you.

Your new manager also left you with a bag for your uniforms. There were three to choose from, each with a duplicate to use in between washes. The first one shined with yellow colors. A yellow short sleeve button up with, of course, suns dancing across it. Paired with a sun ray headband. The second was a navy blue short sleeve button up, stars with sleepy expressions leading towards the ends of the shirt. A night cap was given for this uniform. The appearance of sleepy stars littering the cap. The last uniform was a calming orange, short sleeve button up. Little eclipsed suns fashioned in a linear pattern. Another sunny ray headband similar to the last one, only this pair was two toned to match Eclipse’s own rays. You just had to make sure you wore work appropriate pants and shoes. They gave you the freedom to accessorize your uniforms, even offering you a handful of patches and pins of the daycare attendants to use.

Placing the headpiece back into your gifted tote bag, you reached for your phone to call your brother. You smiled as you swiped through your contacts. Oblivious to him already walking over to you. Your walking stuttered to a halt as you felt his forehead fall to your stomach.

“Greg! I was just going to call you, I got the job!” you cheerily greeted him with good news. He stayed silent. Quirking an eyebrow, you set your phone in your bag and gave him your full attention. “Hey…Gregory?”

The car ride was quiet with the exception of faint radio. You'd glance over to him every now and then to see his eyes glued to the window. Watching the world pass by in front of him. Thoughts swarmed your brain as you tried coming up with remedies for his state of mind. Maybe you guys could watch a movie. You could buy his favorite snacks and let him pick the film. Watching a movie would demand his entire attention. Or you could get back to teaching him how to crochet. Something to keep his hands busy would keep his mind off things. You'd see which one he'd prefer once you got to that point.

Still nothing.

The new items sat on the floor next to your feet. This wasn’t like your brother. You were expecting him to give some sort of light hearted snide remark. Or even congrats. But there was nothing. You kneeled down in front of him and cradled his face with one hand. “Are you okay? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Finally, he raised his eyes up to meet yours. His once smirking eyes were now puffy and red. Your brows knitted together as you inspected his face for any hints as to why he came to you like this. Taking a look at his hands, you gave them a once over as well. Arms and legs, nothing new.

“I’m here now, what do you need?” you offered. His pizza box in his hands crumpled in between his fingers. He couldn’t help the sob that left his gritted teeth.

Immediately, you took the box from his hands and offered your own for him to hold. He took them without hesitation, using them to hide his face. You wiped his tears away and moved his hair out of his eyes. Glancing around to see where he came from, you noticed the food court some feet away. Watching a family leave with happy smiles. Hiding the growing worry on your face, you smiled softly at him, now understanding what was causing his distress. You pulled away and offered your name tag for him to look at. He sniffled and tilted the plastic side to side. Dimly watching it change between three images. Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you carried him with one arm and his pizza leftovers with the other.

Upon arriving home, Gregory stood by the door with his pizza, waiting for you to grab your things. He watched you twist the keys to the door and stared as you left your bags by the coat rack.

“I saw a family today...” he muttered under his breath. Pausing your actions, you gave him your full attention. “I was...jealous,” he admitted. You gently took the box out of his hand and placed it on the couch.

“And...sad…sad I don't remember how our parents were…” Your heart squeezed as you listened to your little brother.

Gregory was very young when the accident happened. No older than six. You yourself were still a child, halfway done with high school. It was a traumatic experience for the both of you, but Gregory had been there to witness all of it in its entirety. You were at a friend's house studying at that time. It wouldn't be surprising to you if the trauma caused Gregory to block out a lot of his childhood. That includes his memories of mom and dad.

“I have some old family albums, we can look through them together,” you offered as you began to take your shoes off. “I'll tell you stories too, anything you want.”

Your brother sat on the couch. “That'd be nice…” he trailed off. Kicking off his own shoes without much effort. He curled himself into the cushions. “I'd…like that…” he murmured.

Turning to face him, you watched as his breathing relaxed. His breath was slow and long. Eyes closed and peaceful. He'd fallen asleep. You watched solemnly. Walking over to him, you scooped him up just like you had when he was small. He didn't move at all, completely limp in your arms. Only moving to cuddle his way into your neck. Giving a big sigh through his nose once he was comfortable.

You glanced over at the clock to check the time. 3:32. Too early for a nap. But, you couldn't blame him. You didn't know how long he'd been crying before he came to you. He used up so much of his energy that it completely exhausted him. As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the soothing circular motions your hands wove into his back.

Gently, you turned the doorknob to your shared room. Your side of the room hadn't changed much. Just a new desk and some new pictures you've made a habit of thumb tacking to the wall. Gregory's had a new bed to accommodate his growing size. His small child desk had been switched out with your old one. He had his own fairy lights strung along his wall, a few books littering his bed, and some sketch books. Your brother had grown up to take an interest in drawing. Nothing too serious, just fun doodles of robots and whatever cartoon he'd seen that day.

Cradling him with one arm, you leaned a bit to push his books off, making sure to break their fall with your foot each time one fell. You leaned a bit too far as you reached for a stray sketchbook. Causing his limp body to sway off yours. Immediately, you cradle his head and gently place him back against your chest. Staying still to see if his breathing had changed. Nope, same relaxed breathing. You gave a quiet “phew” as you pulled his sheets aside. Carefully placing him in his bed, you watched as his brows weakly met. He reached back for you once he felt your warmth had gone. Laughing softly, you brought his sheets over him. His hands immediately grabbed at the fabric. He brought them to his chin and nuzzled himself into the pillow. Face once again peaceful as he continued to sleep.

Softly tracing your thumb against his cheek, your smile fell. Eyes following his still present tear stains. You couldn't clean them now, you'd already disturbed his sleep. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you stood up and left the room. Keeping the door ajar and making sure the fairy lights had been turned on. You could go out and follow your initial movie plan. But, that'd mean leaving Greg here alone. The thought of doing so after all that made your stomach churn. No, you wouldn't leave him by himself.

There was crocheting too. You made your way to the living room to see if you still had enough materials. Opening the closet, they smiled back at you. The threading hooks were still in their bins along with some thick pastel pink yarn. Checking off the list in your head, you then walked to the kitchen. The cupboards hoarded your various mugs and loose leaf tea assortments, all waiting to come together for a warm cup. Chamomile could be a good choice, even hibiscus. A quiet evening home could do him some good. Then again, so would the movie. A walk out to the store to get some fresh air after all that sounded nice.

You couldn't decide on what to do. You grit your teeth, and painfully grind them. You ultimately decided to let him make the choice. That'd allow him more freedom and give him enough space to feel more in control again. Yeah! The grinding of your teeth stopped as you happily got started on some dinner.

Chicken and rice was what you both usually had. For one, the rice was easy to come by in giant bags. And two, chicken was the least expensive protein you could get your hands on. Gregory preferred his grilled and seasoned with lemon. Normally you'd have left the meat to marinate overnight, but you fell asleep at your desk the night before. Your brother would have done it himself, but he too fell asleep at his desk. A habit you felt guilty of passing down onto him.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you made quick work of washing the rice. Running through five rinses, the water pooled up clear. The rice cooker beeped joyfully as you put in the bowl of rice, happy to have been fed. Your feet absentmindedly carried you to the fridge. Reaching down, you grabbed two lemons to season your chicken with. As you made your way back to the counter, you grabbed a knife and the cutting board along with a bowl. The zest of the lemons’ scent struck your nose as you cut into its flesh. Bringing the bowl to your side, you began to squeeze out its juices, making sure to pick out any seeds that had fallen in. You set the squeezed halves aside to use as candy for later.

Your mind drifted to the times you and Gregory made sweet treats out of lemon and orange peels. They were his favorite in the beginning, but they were quickly pushed aside once you introduced him to gummy bears. It's been a while since the two of you had any homemade candy. Now there was another option to help your brother unwind. Some good old fashioned family bonding. Aside from peel candies, you'd make ‘cakes’. No baking involved. Just some packaged cookies, cream, canned fruit slices and some sugar. The cookies would be used to border a container and layer the cream and fruit. With a dusting of sugar to go on top. You could make those too if he decided he wanted to.

Your eyes glanced at the clock, four twenty-nine, fingers absentmindedly brushing against the lemon peels. Your mind blanks as you watch the clock's small hand glide over the numbers.

Something's missing...

You glanced back down to the bowl of lemon juice then to the empty cutting board. Scoffing to yourself, your palm made contact with your forehead.

PeyPey snuck his way around the sleeping children. Carefully carrying a random sock he'd found. His partner, Caro, was weaving her way through the sea of sleeping bags. The daycare's guests had been put down for a nap. All faintly snoring, some louder than others. Disorganized at first glance, but each child belonged to a small group.

The chicken.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Some children couldn't sleep unless all lights were off, others had trouble without a night light. Then there were kids who slept like tornados. The attendants took care in organizing where each kid would go.

A handful would sleep furthest away from any lightsource, they were Moon’s. He was the best at seeing things in the dark and was the stealthiest among the others. He took pride in knowing no kid would wake up on his watch. Anytime he noticed one stirring, he'd simply hum a soothing tune. Ten times out of ten they'd get right back to snoring.

Another group would sleep closer to a window who's curtain opened slightly at the bottom. They were Sun's. His rays produced a faint light, allowing him to sit peacefully in the center of the sleeping children. In the past, he had a notorious streak of waking everyone up, so he was more than happy to sit and act as their nightlight.

The remaining kids were left to Eclipse, PeyPey, and Caro. Their group of children could sleep anywhere. The three attendants often had to make sure their kids weren't sleeping in painful positions or pulling blankets over their faces. Naturally, the couple's tiny size allowed them to easily do their work without waking anyone up. Eclipse mainly sat in guard, watching for anything that could happen. Offering his strength when his small two friends needed it.

As the hour went on, Sun couldn't help but ping his friends with a little message through their shared server.

“When do you think the gift shop will be done?? I'm ecstatic to see our new coworker again!!” His eagerness was kept well hidden by his shut eyes.

“Not long, I've seen where they keep the merchandising and sweets. Perhaps a day or two?” Moon offered his input as he delicately placed a child's hand back into their sleeping bag.

“All in due time. Though, with all the staff bots moving around I'd say a day at most,” Eclipse commented.

“A day sounds right, I'd say,” PeyPey agreed as he sat down next to Eclipse.

“Maybe even half a day if we're lucky!” Caro added as she settled on the other side of her towering friend.

Sun's rays couldn't help but spin at the notion. Half a day? Why that'd mean you'd be here tomorrow morning! He couldn't wait to see you again. A new coworker meant a new friend! A new friend meant more fun and memories to have! He calmed his rays as he snuck a glance through the curtain peak. As expected, staff bots running about with arms full of supplies. Some brought in signs that required the aid of two to carry.

“Caro might be right, the gift shop looks as good as finished! They're just organizing the shelves and adding some signage to the walls!!” Sun exclaimed.

“And it's only five thirty! The plex doesn't close until ten!” she excitedly pointed out, drumming Eclipse's leg. The latter chuckled and turned to glance at his twin, “Looks like we'll be seeing them tomorrow then.”

“New coworker, New gift shop, we might be busy tomorrow too. If this new spot gets advertised enough,” Moon pointed out. His faceplate resting in his palms as he watched his enamored twin keep track of all the staff bots. “I wonder what kind of person we'll get to know tomorrow”.

PeyPey chimed in. “A new one,” he laughed quietly to himself and his girlfriend couldn't help but snort.

Moon's eyes rolled. “Ah yes, how could I not have expected that.” He smiled over to the smaller animatronics.

“A completely new one, one we've very much never, ever seen before,” Caro teased as a smirk danced across her face.

“Alright, alright, keep that up and I won't let you hang around that smart alec anymore,” Moon challenged as his own smirk grew.

The female animatronic gasped as she scrambled to hide in Eclipse's lap. Her partner followed after her.

“Moon, dear brother, please don't joke like that. She has a hard time telling the difference.” The orange brother frowned at his lunar sibling.

“Darling, I wouldn't let that happen. Come out please,” PeyPey attempted to coax her out.

Moon sighed, guilt dripping into his chest. “I didn't mean it. I'd never take you away from your boyfriend, dear. I'm sorry.”

Caro peeked her head out, “Never ever?” Her hand reached out to meet PeyPey's.

The moon laughed, “Never ever.”

The female animatronic happily took PeyPey's hand and yanked him into Eclipse's lap. The pair giggling as their tall friend shook his head.

He felt like he was babysitting the couple now. “I wish Moon would,” his comment fell on deaf ears.

You and Gregory sat at the small dinner table, sharing the meal you just finished preparing. He smiled as he took another bite of rice and chicken. Tear stains gone and his eyes now well rested. The color in his face was restored as well. Your cheeks rose as you watched him eat. It was relieving to see him back to his usual self.

Sun's rays danced. “Puppy looove~” he sang.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“So, Greg, what do you wanna do after dinner?” you asked as you took a sip of your water. Ready to give him your previously planned options should he not have an idea already.

Your brother hummed in thought, “We could go back to the pizzaplex if you want,” he replied with his mouthful.

Nearly choking on your water, you took in a big gulp to avoid it. “But, do you want to?” you asked him with sincere curiosity and a bit of worry.

Gregory gently danced his head side to side, happily chewing on another bite of food. “Yeah, I wanna.” He smiled up at you from across the table.

You nodded. “Is it alright if I ask why?” You prepared yourself for whatever answer he could give. It was safe to assume he'd want a bit of space from the place after what happened that afternoon. But to want to go back now? It concerned you a bit.

He looked off to the side. “I want to have a better experience, one with you.�� He blinked away his embarrassment. Briefly flitting his eyes to yours before looking away again.

The strings of your heart tugged as you replayed his reasoning in your head. “Aww, Greggy!” You couldn't help but get out of your chair and immediately pepper kisses into his hair.

“Agh—! Hey!” he fussed. Half pushing you away with one arm and half allowing you to smother him.

You chuckled and placed one last kiss on his cheek. “You don't let me baby you anymore.” Faking a pout at him, you leaned down to be eye level with him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yea, cause you act stupid.” He smirked and watched you gasp.

“Nuh uh,” you retorted as you walked back to your seat.

“Yuh huh, you do,” he challenged with a laugh. “You say stuff like ‘Aw my little Greggy! My good little Greggy eggy baby boy!’” he mocked.

Your eyes narrowed, “What else do you expect from your ‘favoritest favorite person’?” It was your turn to smirk as his jaw shut closed. “Your ‘bestest sib ever!’ or how about ‘the coolest sib’?” challenging his taunt with two of your own.

“I'm surprised you remember those,” he grumbled as he poked at the few remaining rice grains on his plate.

You took your victory with a bow. “I could never forget such titles,” you said, a smirk growing as you took your last bite of food. “But, yes, I'll take you there. What time is it?” you asked.

He glanced at the clock above your head. “Seven fifteen,” he answered.

You chugged the last of your water and rose up from your seat. “Alrighty then, go grab your shoes. We have about three hours ‘til they close,”giving your brother orders as you push your chair.

He excitedly ran over to the living room. Nearly tripping himself as he came back to push in his chair and place his dishes in the sink. Your eyes follow him as you let the warm water run. Doing the dishes now could waste some of your limited time, so you opted for letting them soak until the two of you came back home.

The excited thumps of shoes sounded in your ear as you dried your hands off with the kitchen rag. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself. Gregory was, without a doubt, a little shit. But, on occasion, he was a cute kid. Which, in your eyes, was all the time. Little shit or not, he was cute regardless. Especially now as he ran back to you and stopped at your side.

“Come on! Get your shoes!” he hurried you while pulling you to the living room.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” Your laughter never leaves as you reach your shoes by the door.

“They have the best pizza there! Come on, let's go share one! Oh—and ice cream!” He resumed pulling you out the door. You gave your boots a quick toe kick to the ground as you followed him, feeling them secure to your feet.

“We just ate, pudge!” You cackled watching him open the car door for you. “Plus you have leftovers from earlier!”

“I'm a growing boy, I can use more food!” He scrambled into the passenger seat. Too excited to walk around to enter properly, he wormed his way in from your lap.

You wiped the growing tears in your eyes. “Can't argue with that.” Watching him click his seat belt in and kick his feet in excitement.

Upon arriving at the pizzaplex, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference in the parking lot. It was a lot more full now compared to when you arrived for your interview. Finding a parking spot was a nightmare. Numerous times you had to turn back into the same line, thinking you saw a space available. Only to be met with disappointment as the space was taken by a small car. Gregory had his head sticking out the window trying to find a good spot.

“There!! Right there!!” he shouted and pointed to an empty spot.

Immediately you swerved into it, promptly backing up slowly to properly align yourself within the lines. You glanced at the sign in front of you, squinting as you tried to read the small writing. ‘Employee parking only,’ it read. You looked around and noticed you were at the front of the plex. After so much back and forth, you felt silly to not think of looking for this type of spot initially.

“Alright, let's go eat some pizza,” you said as you reached for your bag. Gregory gave a celebratory shout before climbing out of the car.

You made sure to attach your daycare watch to your wrist, just in case anyone asked about your choice in parking. It'd also help to familiarize yourself with its features.

The automatic doors welcomed you in. The sounds of arcade games and the clamoring of voices overlapping each other was all enough to make your head spin. The ping of your watch grabbed your attention. Glancing down, you quickly swiped at the notification on the screen.

“What's that?” Gregory half shouted over the numerous sounds.

“My work watch, looks like they fixed up a schedule for me already,” you answered.

To your delight, you'd been given a consistent schedule. Mondays through Fridays you'd work from 9 am to 5:30 pm. You had two ten minute breaks as well as a paid lunch break that had been scheduled into your work days. Luckily for you, that meant work would start tomorrow—tomorrow being Wednesday. Viewing all the chaos before you, you were grateful you'd be done with work before it got to be this crazy. The perks of working in an area with smaller children.

The daycare had closed its doors a little more than an hour ago. Staff Bots were roaming around and picking up any small debris the attendants might have missed. The lights dimmed once everything had been cleaned and sanitized. Which left the daycare attendants to retire to their rooms behind the stage.

Your attention is pulled by your brother leading you to a nearby food court. He looks back at you with a smile. A laugh rumbled in your chest as you watched him with adoring eyes. Happiness sprung into your heart, overjoyed your new job allowed you to see this side of Gregory.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Admittedly, while PeyPey and Caro were naturally the same height as the other attendants, they preferred to unwind in their smaller forms. Often sleeping in the room of whomever had been carrying them that evening. PeyPey yawned and curled himself into a complete ball in Sun's arms.

“Aww, someone needs to be put to charge~” Sun cooed as he opened the door to his room.

Pale yellow walls with warm orange light fixtures in the shapes of suns danced into view. A bed with white sheets laid at the corner. It had an orange bed frame to match the room. On the opposite side stood a wooden desk with small doodads in its cubbies. The tiled flooring was a happy yellow. Small plants in clear acrylic vases hung about his room. Some floral, others just greenery. An orange loveseat sat just a few feet away from his desk.

His small friend hummed in agreement as he briefly opened his eyes, “Where's Caro?”

The solar animatronic settled him into a small nest of blankets and pillows atop his desk. “She wanted to go for a night stroll with Eclipse!” A small charging pad rested beneath the small animatronic.

“I wanna go see her,” PeyPey groaned to himself as he tried swimming out of the blankets.

Sun quickly bundled him up. “No no sir, you need to charge! Your battery is running at five percent,” he frowned. He tried not to laugh as he watched his friend squirm in the swaddle of sheets.

The small animatronic frowned up at Sun, squinting at him. “I can find her just fine on a five percent charge,” he grumbled.

“As your friend and handler, I insist that you stay put and don’t push yourself,” Sun calmly stated.

PeyPey growled and rolled over to his side, facing his back towards Sun, causing the latter to gasp loudly, then stick his tongue out, fully aware that his small friend wouldn’t be able to see.

Moon knocked on his brother’s door. “Sun? Is something the matter?”

The twin jumped at the sound, scrambling to his feet as he ran to open the door. “Moony! I was just putting PeyPey down for an early charge, but he insisted on seeing his girlfriend.” His optics glared at the bundled animatronic. Who, in turn, glared back at the mention of his name.

The lunar animatronic chuckled at the news. “So why don’t you let him? If he can’t go to her, just ping her to come here,” he suggested.

Sun’s shoulders rose in a shrug. “I’d been so wrapped up in trying to charge him that the thought completely slipped my mind…” He turned back and watched PeyPey’s tired eyes slowly blink one after the other.

The solar animatronic looked amongst the many children. “Which one is yours?”

With a sigh, he did what his twin recommended him to do.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Eclipse had been walking around a food court with Caro on his shoulder. Animatronics weren’t gifted with taste buds, but they still had receptors to feel. It just so happened that Eclipse favored the sensation spicy foods brought. His usual meal consisted of nachos swimming in hot sauce and jalapeňos. As well as a cup of pickled jalapeňo juice to wash it all down with. His brothers weren’t much of a spice fan as he was. Moon favored sour tasting things, enough so to keep eating them until the acids scarred his synthetic skin. Sun, on the other hand, liked sweets the most. The only word he could use to describe the taste was light and happy. That meant more scorching spice for Eclipse, which he was happy about. The seven foot tall animatronic excitedly got in line. The thought of his nachos made him bounce on the balls of his feet excitedly. So much so that he failed to notice his new coworker in line right in front of him. But Caro was fully aware.

“Interviewee!” she excitedly called from Eclipse’s shoulder.

You and Eclipse jumped at the sudden shout. Hesitantly, you turned to see the source of the sound. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you looked up to see your new coworkers. Minding the other eyes staring, you began to converse with them. “Ah—hello you two. Eclipse and Caro, right?”

The two nodded their heads. “Right you are, dear,” Eclipse answered. He curiously eyed you, “Say…what’re you doing around here? Not that we mind, do forgive me. But, last I checked, we don’t see you until tomorrow morning.”

Caro gasped. “You’re right! What’re you doing here newbie?” she asked you.

You swallowed down a laugh as the two animatronics prodded you to answer. “I’m here with my little brother, Gregory!”

His small friend jumped off his shoulder. “I gotta go!”

Caro's burst nearly makes your eyes pop out of their sockets. The taller animatronic scrambling to reach for her.

“Hey! Where are you running off to?” he called out to her.

“I got a ping from Sun! I'll be back!” she hollered back as she wove her way through guests.

Eclipse sighed. “Well, uhm...where were we…Right! Where's your little yoot at?”

Your hand pointed towards a booth. There, Gregory sat while swinging his legs. Happily munching on a slice of pizza, blissfully unaware of the set of eyes on him.

“Aww, he's a darling one,” your coworker commented. “He takes after you, I suppose.”

The line continued to move as the two of you talked.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

The animatronic hesitated for a moment. “You both have a certain disposition…hmm...Happy? Content? Generally positive I'd say.”

Your brow raised curiously, “Do we now?”

He nodded, glancing back at your brother. “Yes, you both may look different, but I can tell the two of you are siblings. The way you carry yourselves is what nails it down. Why, I can picture you eating that pizza. Take me and my brothers for example. While physically I match Sun more, my personality is more like Moon's. We both have a sort of calm air about us. I'm sure our first run-in was evident of that,” he chuckled to himself.

A snort escaped you. “Hard to argue with such compelling evidence...I guess I forget to notice the way I carry myself,” you admitted.

The line drew you both closer to the front counter.

“I’m sorry, dear, I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious,” he apologized with a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh—! No you didn't, really! I just don't pay much attention to myself is all—haha,” nervous laughter creaked out of your mouth.

You weren't much of a conversationalist either. Your nervousness clearly showed as you tried to remain calm. What a great first impression this was.

Eclipse seemed to notice your unease, taking away his hand as he inspected you with his optics. He took your word as true. You had bags under your eyes, a faint purple hue dusting them. Your hair a mess, and…was that a grain of rice on your cheek?

“Come here, you have a little something over there,” he motioned his cheek with his hand.

You squeaked in embarrassment, quickly brushing the spot. “Did I get it?” not noticing the grain was still there.

Your coworker smiled. “No, here let me just...” he trailed off. He chuckled as he leaned down, “Silly.” His metallic finger tip made contact with your skin.

His comment was enough to have you feel sparks from your face to the roots of your hair. The gesture alone could set you on fire. Your eyes shut from embarrassment as you felt him gently swipe at the grain. Giving you a satisfied hum, he pulled away.

“There we are, spick and span,” he complimented as he dusted off your shoulder.

The line moved once more. It was your turn to order, but you were wrapped up in staring at your coworker. He maintained eye contact with you, curiously eyeing your face for any other grains. Satisfied when he saw nothing else, he darted his eyes off to the side before looking into yours once more.

“...Do I have something on my face?” he questioned.

“N-no! Uhm…” you trailed off.

“Next in line please,” the staff bot snapped you out of your thoughts.

Shaking the embarrassment off, you walked up to the counter. “Hello! Can I please get two ice cream cones? One vanilla and one neapolitan?”

The staff bot nodded its head and pressed some things into the register screen. “Will that be all for you today?” it asked.

“Yes, please,” you nodded, reaching for your card.

Eclipse snatched your wallet. “Ah-ah—employees eat for free here. Didn't they tell you that?”

You gasped excitedly. “You're right! I can't believe I forgot Pansy mentioned that!” You turned back to the staff bot before quickly whipping your head back to Eclipse. “How—how do I show that I'm an employee? I don't have my name tag with me.”

Your colleague chuckled, glancing down at the blue accessory on your wrist. “You have your daycare watch on, don't you?”

You were immediately thankful you remembered to bring it along with you, but feeling silly you forgot you had it, you tapped at its screen. Flipping through different faces, you landed on your employee ID. Scrolling down did nothing. But when you swiped to the side, the little digital card flipped to show a barcode.

“Do I show them this?” you questioned Eclipse. Making sure to reach your wrist up high enough so he can see.

He delicately held your hand. “Correct!” Giving a pleased nod, he gently brought your hand back to you.

Your excitement bubbled as you showed the staff bot your digital ID. It stared at it briefly before grabbing a hand scanner. The red led light made contact, showing the transfer was complete with a beep.

“Employee number 1-b-987, a pleasure to meet you. I will be right back with your order,” the staff bot disappeared to the back all without turning its back to you.

“PeyPey, please just ping me the next time you want me here,” Caro whispered as she cuddled up with him in the blankets.

You took this moment to examine your coworker. He was true to his word. While his warm color palette and sunny rays were reminiscent of his brother, Sun, his demeanor wasn't like his at all. Sun was, well, very sunny. A literal ball of sunshine. Eager, peppy, joyful, it was enough to make you smile at the memory of your first meeting. Eclipse was more reserved, calm. You haven't had the chance to fully meet Moon beforehand. The only instance being when he apologized for his brother's behavior and quickly introduced himself and the others. Eclipse hasn't lied to you yet, so you could only assume Moon really was as similar.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Her boyfriend chuckled as he pulled her in closer. “I will.” His smile widening as he stared into her eyes, “You're really pretty.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh, and you're very handsome and pretty and sweet and loving,” she rambled. “But stupid.”

The small animatronic choked on his air. “Nuh-uh, nuh-uh.”

Sun had been sitting on his bed, messing around with a little puzzle cube a child gifted him. “Yea, listen to your girlfriend,” he suggested.

Moon was sitting beside him, watching him fiddle with the piece of plastic, “I agree.”

PeyPey groaned before laughing sheepishly, “Is it because I wanted to go looking for you with only five percent?”

Caro nodded, her eyes never leaving him. “You need to take better care of yourself,” she frowned.

The small animatronic shifted in the nest of blankets. “I will, I'll try to be better, I'm sorry.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She sat up and turned her attention to the twins before her. “Can one of you two get me an order of nachos? The same way Eclipse gets them?”

Moon lifted himself off the bed. “Swimming in hot sauce with jalapeños?” he questioned with a stretch.

She nodded, “Yea! Oh and please tell the interviewee I said sorry, I ran off in the middle of a conversation with them.”

Sun sprang up and nearly tripped over himself, “They're here?? Now??” His lunar brother rubbed his side that he bumped into.

Caro smugly eyed the excited animatronic. “Yessir, they're in the food court with Eclipse.

Chatting up a storm.”

Moon bowed his head, glancing up at his brother. “Well, safe to assume you're coming with me?” he grinned.

Sun excitedly nodded and grabbed hold of his brother's hand. “We'll be back, Caro!” He raced off with Moon catching up to his pace, hand in hand.

PeyPey chuckled. “I think your snack is gonna be a while.”

His girlfriend laughed and cuddled into his embrace. “I don't mind. Now get some rest.”

You stood by with your ice cream cones in hand, talking it up with your coworker as he waited for his order. You learned that he was the youngest of his brothers. The completion for his model was a week after his two brothers were finished. So, by a technicality, Moon and Sun were twins. He was their little brother. But, neither of his older brothers viewed it this way. To them, they were all the same age. Might as well be given the fact they were all checked off as public ready on the same day.

Her boyfriend hummed and held her tighter. “Yes, boss.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“The day I met them, they were so ecstatic. I could really feel their electricity, you know,” Eclipse reminisced.

He looked longingly at his own hands. “I was so scared, petrified even. The idea that I was to become this extravagant entertainer. It made my casings shake. But, everything came easy once I finally got to meet my brothers,” his hands clasping together.

You smiled at his story, a warm feeling in your chest.

“Sun and Moon…I can't imagine a day without them. I spent my first activation days alone in an empty room. Nobody would talk to me, not even the mechanics. And when I did get to talk to somebody, it was great news! It was Pansy who told me I'd be meeting bots like me—brothers even! Sun was so kind and patient, and Moon was so gentle and made sure I was comfortable in the space I was in. I couldn't have asked for better brothers…Don't tell them I said that, they won't let me live it down,” he laughed and gave you a playful tap on your shoulder.

A whistle fell from your mouth. “I won't tell a soul,” smiling up at him with your proclamation.

His laughter hummed in his chest, “My brothers mean everything to me. They're the reason I can do anything at all. Sun gave me optimism and Moon gave me confidence. One day, I'll pay it back to them. I'll find a way to repay them for everything they've done for me,” he said to himself mainly, but to you as well.

You also learned that Eclipse wouldn't be getting his own smaller friend. It just wasn't planned. PeyPey was assigned to Sun initially, but later on signed off to Eclipse as well. Caro was assigned to Moon exclusively. Each pairing has a special server that allows for exclusive connection and remote controlling. Of course, neither brother felt comfortable enough to use the remote option. Eclipse explained it felt wrong and immoral. Rightfully so. They weren't keen on keeping secrets either. The only time that had ever happened was when Caro had developed feelings for Peypey and would spam Moon's notifications with messages.

Eclipse laughed. “You'd think they were made for each other wouldn't you?”

You urgently nodded, excited to hear more of their pasts.

He sighed. “Truth be told, she was programmed to be Moon's girl.”

You dropped your cones. “Huh?!” A gasp slipped from your mouth as your eyes shot down to your fallen desserts.

Your colleague rumbled with laughter as he reached for napkins. Leaning down, he made quick work of the mess.

“Does that mean PeyPey was supposed to…?” you trailed off in thought as you watched him clean.

“Be with Sun? Nope. The initial idea for our group was to be the guys band. Be the sort of all male talent engine, y’know? Caro wasn't supposed to be able to play any instruments, she was supposed to play the role of Moon's ‘lovely lady.’ Chime in on a few songs here and there. And, I suppose it worked like that for a while. But, neither her nor Moon liked it,” Eclipse sucked in a gulp of air through his teeth. He stood tall.

“Management wouldn't listen to either of them. It became a weekly visit to parts and services for the two of them,” He looked down at the floor. “Constant rewiring…it was awful. I couldn't stand seeing their forced smiles.”

You placed a gentle hand on his, urging him to continue.

A smile crept up on his face. “Sun and PeyPey changed everything. My brother taught Caro how to play guitar, even went out of his way to find internet videos about other instruments and how to play them. PeyPey used all of his free time on Moon and Caro. Showing them ways to calm down and prevent any more visits to parts and services. Pretty soon, PeyPey started developing feelings for her. Just in time too, management couldn't keep up with Moon and Caro. They ultimately decided to give the two and the rest of us free will,” he triumphantly stated.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Eclipse. I feel honored that you view me as someone you can tell this to.” Your cheeks warm as you give him the most genuine smile he's seen from you.

“And thank you for listening! I didn't mean to ramble that much—you have a really welcoming air about you,” he comments with a spin of his rays.

“Interviewee!” an outburst rang from behind the two of you.

Both of your heads swivel as Sun and Moon make their way to the two of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Eclipse teases you with a gentle jab to your shoulder. You snicker and playfully shove him.

Speak of the devil indeed.

TAGLIST WEEE!!

@cosmog-mcgee

@antwithwaffles

End of the second chapter!! Similar to the previous chapter, my good friend, MY BOOBOOBEAAAAR @by-the-chapel-gates was my beta reader!!💖💝💘:D Many thanks goes to her!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as well!💖💝GRACIAS!!!💖💝Please leave your thoughts below!

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mrpuzzlessimp420 · 5 months

Text

Mario Simulator (Joke Fic)

Chapter 1

Ships: Marware, BatteryAcid (Mr Puzzles x Orange Juice), SMG34 (minor)

Mushroom Akademi was your normal pseudo-japanese highschool and Mario was a normal student.

He had... awful as shit grades because he didn't concentrate in class (god I wish I was that carefree ) and had a decent enough reputation, expect for that one incident where he was caught... you don't want to know what he was caught doing.

Anyway, Mario was normal.

He awoke to his loud two trucks alarm and started to get ready for the day. Putting on his highschool girl uniform that definitely did not look like the sailor scout uniform, not brushing his teeth and grabbing a plate of spaghetti to eat.

He quickly checked his phone to see that it was... 8 a'clock??? He was going to be late and get told of by SMG4 because of it!

Spaghetti plate still in hand, he rushed out the door, trying his best not to trip and be a clutz like he always is.

He eventually arrived at the school, only 2 minutes late and ran to his class, before realising he had no clue where he was going and had to check his timetable, which he also realised he lost like 5 months ago.

After 10 minutes of searching for his class, he finally found it and sat down in his seat, absolutely exhausted, spaghetti plate still in hand.

"Mario? You're late again? This is the 20th time this week! You know what I don't care, just don't be a nuisance like yesterday." Karen stated, not giving a crap about Mario because she is a girlboss, a legend and the moment.

The lesson went surprisingly quickly as the entire time Mario was finishing of his spaghetti or talking to SMG4 about memes or some cringey shit like that.

When the lesson and 2nd period was over, it was finally break.

Mario ran to say hello to his friends before a figure caught his eye.

The figure was a tall, handsome TV head giving out audition leaflets for a school play, rather dramatically you could say... and pathetically as he was literally on his hands and knees begging one student to join, a crying baby face replacing his normal emotes on his TV head.

Mario's heart skipped a beat. Oh how he had fallen for this TV head for the past couple of months. Yeah he tried to mind-control his friends to force them to preform in a everlasting play but that was ages ago. Honestly, Mario was down bad for him, his patheticness, his passion for the arts, his dramatic nature. I mean he was even good to look at, I mean look at those cables and wires (bro 😭) .

"Mario? MARIO!"

Mario finally snapped out of his god damn solioquy and lovestruck pinning just to be faced with a very annoyed SMG4.

"Where you even listening to anything I said?" SMG4 asked, pissed that Mario hadn't been listening for the 100th time this week.

"Uhhhh..." Mario said before saying the most, disgusting, revolting thing you ever have seen that had to be censored for the sake of EVERYONE'S sanity.

"What? No??? I was explaining the entire FNAF lore." SMG4 explained like the cringe pathetic loser he is.

"I honestly still don't get it." Meggy stated

"I do." SMG3 stated, with lovestruck eyes that told everyone in the room that he did not understand anything SMG4 just said and just liked to hear SMG4's voice

"Ha ha Gayyyyyy!" Mario shouted before being punched in the face by SMG3

"Shut Up! You like Mr Puzzles!!!" SMG3 declared, deflecting Mario's accusation back onto Mario.

"That's because he's-" Mario was once again censored by the Great Fanfic Writer in the sky who didn't want to write out the disgusting thing Mario just said about Mr Puzzles

"We.. didn't need to know that but anyway what was I on about again?" SMG4 asked, forgetting his entire lore dump he just did a few minutes before hand.

"You were on about the lore of FNAF?" SMG3 stated, looking back at SMG4 with eyes that were screaming with 'I love you so much, I want to hear your voice all the time, we are friends, we are literally soulmates made for each other, I would literally die and kill for you.'

"Oh yeah!" SMG4 was a oblivious idiot and didn't notice SMG3's obvious pinning "Anyway Foxy Bro killed his own brother or some shit and got really depressed ig, couldn't be me"

SMG4 went on to ramble about FNAF again but Mario got bored immediately. Why would anyone care about a Purple Guy and some dead children? The lore was way to complex for Mario's stupid little brain anyway, he couldn't even count to 10 let alone remember all of that.

Mario's focus went back to the pathetic Vox look-alike and sighed lovely.

He was perfect to Mario. Absolutely perfect. Though he was a bumbling idiot and still not fully redeemed, he was harmless and Mario knew he could fix him.

Mr Puzzles was now acting like that desperate clinging to a student to get them to join didn't happen and was still handing out leaflets for the audition.

Maybe Mario could audition? It's not like he had anything better to do with his life other than eat spaghetti and annoy SMG4 24/7. And it gave him the excuse to hang out with the handsome TV head.

Before Mario could think any longer, a new character appeared on screen and jokely spooked Mr Puzzles, which caused Mr Puzzles to jump and move his hands dramatically like a primary schooler trying way to hard in a poorly done school play.

Mario immediately didn't like this new figure. How dare they spook their one and only true love? And be friendly with him? (Damn Mario just let him have friends, he needs them desperately)

The figure was tall, taller than Mr Puzzles in fact which was a surprise, and extremely buff, looking like that one yaoi art base (you know the one). His head was replaced with a glass of orange juice which for some reasons had eyes on it, like working eyes. Mario didn't question it though as the canonical SMG4 universe was already lacking of lore on how the fuck Mr Puzzles is alive after he cut his head off.

"Awww, did I scare you pookie bear? I'm sorry~!" the figure said, kissing his lover on the check loving.

"I-It's okay OJ-Kun! You just scared me a little that's all." Mr Puzzles said, extremely flustered and shy now out of no where, acting like a uwu soft twink.

Mario was seething with anger. Mr Puzzles had a lover? A boyfriend? This was not okay. Only Mario could be his boyfriend and if he couldn't, then no one could.

An idea popped into Mario's head, quite surprising as he probably didn't have any braincells left.

A very... unique idea.

You see, there was something actually... unnormal about Mario.

He was what you would call...

A yandere.

(part 2 when??? Lol)

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copper-16 · 4 months

Text

For those lovely people who read Do You See Something I Can’t?…Chapter 8 will be posted tomorrow (June 2nd), at 1pm EST!

We’ve got 5 chapters, 57k words in total, and a schedule (because I am nothing without my schedule!) Since the chapters are a little on the longer side, I want to give everyone ample time to fully read. So, the plan is that there will be a new chapter every 3 days, so the whole thing will be posted over the span of a little over 2 weeks.

I totally understand how it can be hard to follow a story when there are long gaps in between chapter being posted, so I hope this is easier to follow along and engage with, by writing everything ahead and posting in a streamline manner. We shall see if this makes it better for you guys as readers, I’m curious as to your feedback! Regardless I want people to enjoy reading it, and if that happens then I am a happy camper, above all else.

Spotify Playlist for the second half can be found here!

For everyone who is still reading this long ass announcement and have gotten themselves all caught up if they wish, here is the first part of Chapter 8 before it is posted tomorrow 🩵

Ingrid stared down at her phone, shifting nervously in her seat. Mapi sat across from her, the Spaniard’s hands folded on the table in front of her, as she watched the Norwegian closely.

The dark haired woman sat up more, swallowing roughly. There were a million thoughts going through her head, and she looked up at the brunette with a slightly panicked expression.

“What if I just went back?” Ingrid asked in a panic, and Mapi tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Do you actually want to? Or are you simply scared to make this call?” She asked gently, and the full back allowed herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her—girlfriend? Friend? Person who professed their love to her less than 12 hours ago, and hasn’t had time to put a label on it yet?

She allows herself to slouch slightly under the intensity of her…of her…of Mapi’s gaze, feeling a bubble of shame rise up in her. The Spaniard is quick to stand, walking around the table to take a seat next to Ingrid as opposed to across from her.

“I am not asking to make you feel bad,” Mapi reminds gently, gesturing to the phone. “But I know you do not want to go back there, and that you are scared to put your foot down. You need to though, and I promise you will get through it. I will be right here,” she continued, and Ingrid looked over at her skeptically.

It was such a strange jump, the last twelve hours. Ingrid had returned to Barcelona to pack up her apartment to move, and had almost finished doing just that. There were boxes littered everywhere in her apartment, a fact that Mapi had yet to comment on.

Instead, they remained where they were at the table as the sun rose in the sky, and Ingrid worked up the courage to call her manager back and explain that she was not going back to Wolfsburg.

The Norwegian picked her phone up finally, pressing the contact for her manager before she held it up to her ear. Her foot tapped anxiously below her, a reminder of the anxiety coursing through her body even as Mapi sat beside her, looking at her with encouragement.

“Hello Ingrid!” Thomas said cheerfully into the phone, and Ingrid opened her mouth to speak before she coughed abruptly, which kick started her into speaking.

“H-hi Thomas!” She replied, her voice thready and nervous, an octave too high. If her plan had been to play it cool, she would have been failing miserably. Luckily, her only goal was to get through the phone call in one piece.

“Is everything alright?” Thomas asked quickly, concern laced into her tone.

“Yes, yes, everything is okay. I just need to talk to you about something,” Ingrid choked out, even as she felt like her throat might close up. Her free hand lashed out, clamping down on the center back’s thigh with a forcefield of anxiety.

The brunette, however, didn’t miss a beat, simply peeling the Norwegian’s hand away from her thigh and lacing their fingers together, squeezing softly. Ingrid gripped her hand tightly, and the Spaniard could feel the shake of the full back’s hand in hers.

“Okay, what did you need to discuss?” Thomas asked, sounding diplomatic. Ingrid took a large breath in, slowly letting it out before responding.

“I am going to stay at Barcelona. I will not be accepting Wolfsburg’s offer,” The dark haired woman managed to get out, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. Mapi’s thumb was very lightly trailing back and forth over the back of her palm, and she reminded herself very gently to relax her shoulders.

“You—what?” Her agent spluttered out, clearly caught off guard.

“I want to stay here, in Barcelona. Tell Wolfsburg I reject,” Ingrid repeated, her voice more secure this time.

“Ingrid, you would be insane to reject their offer! It is one of the most lucrative deals I’ve had come across my desk for a female footballer, you’d be in the top 5% of paid female footballers. Hell, you’ve already told them you’d accept!” Thomas implored, his voice edging on panic.

He had promised Wolfsburg that this deal would go through, that Ingrid would accept. She had always listened to him, she had always been easily manipulated when necessary.

“I gave them a verbal agreement, but no contract was signed. I don’t…I don’t care about the money. Get me more brand deals or something, I want to stay in Barcelona,” Ingrid repeated, standing up for herself as Mapi watched on, growing more nervous as the conversation continued. She couldn’t hear what Ingrid’s manager was saying, but she could tell that he wasn’t responding with a super positive tone.

“Ingrid, as your manager, I cannot let you do this. You need to get your head on straight,” Thomas replied harshly, and the full back straightened, her nerves washed away and replaced with something akin to anger.

“My head is perfectly straight,” if it were not for the seriousness of the situation, both women might have laughed at the falseness of this statement, considering the Norwegian’s sexuality. “I am staying in Barcelona.”

“You’ve told Wolfsburg you’d be there!” Thomas cried, though it wasn’t really true. She had agreed to the deal, sure, but she had never signed anything. She wasn’t obligated to them, she only was because Thomas had tried to make her obligated to them because he knew it would earn himself more money.

“No, you told Wolfsburg I would be there. And why the hell are you pressuring me so heavily? You are supposed to be on my side, not theirs!” Ingrid accused, and Mapi resisted the urge to flinch at the return of the woman she had become acutely used to in the last six months.

“I am on your side, it’s just that—” Thomas tried, but the dark haired woman was quick to cut him off before he could really even begin.

“No, you’re not, if you’re trying this hard to push me into something I clearly do not want. I’m staying, that is the end of the discussion!” Ingrid cried, removing the phone from her ear and slamming her finger down onto the ‘end call’ button.

The Norwegian’s phone clattered onto the table as she breathed heavily, a fraught silence descending between them.

The brunette was holding her breath, unsure of what was going to happen. Ingrid had been upset on the phone, she had been angry.

Would it translate into anger toward Mapi? That is how it had always been, but the Spaniard wasn’t sure if that would persist or not. She knew Ingrid was capable of change, but she was unsure if something as triggering as this could lead to anything resembling softness.

What’s going to happen? Well…you’ll have to tune in to find out!

#copper 16 asks #ingrid engen #mapi leon

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ashbeneviento · 4 days

Text

Alkaloids of a Lady

Donna Beneviento x Fem!reader. Slow burn, will contain smut at some point, tags will be updated. Reader is named but only title/Last name! Contains 1st and 2nd chapter. No beta reader, sorry for any grammar mistakes! Thanks for reading :)

Chapter One

As fast as the good of the day came so did the bad. You had been sitting in this chair for so long sweat was making your thighs stick. You squirm at the uncomfortable sensation and refrain from audibly announcing your boredom.

A cough from the other side of the room catches your attention, a cocky and greasy man who gives you a seductive wink the second you make eye contact with him. Feeling the knot twist in your stomach you quickly avert your eyes back to the goddess who still isn’t finished with her speech.

There you were, the only Lady who wasn’t given Mother Miranda’s dark gift, sitting in the middle of all five of them. Six if you counted the little pest supposedly named Angie, all because you needed the cults help. Miranda kept her most devout followers in constant stress with you. They despised their Mother’s grace towards you..to them, you were just as low as a common villager despite your status.

A status that you were born into, not blessed with by a stroke of luck. Miranda promised no harm to your family as long as you respected her status as goddess, and so the village has lived under dual rule for centuries. For whatever reason this caused her lords a piculiar revirily with you, like playing a game that wasn’t done all at once. One that you didn’t know they were playing, too.

It wasn’t unusual that you’d find yourself here either, joining meetings was mandatory and you had to keep up the act. Dissect the cult of the black god, act as a devout follower. Learn their weaknesses. Formulate the plan to eradicate.

But even you were getting restless as Miranda kept up the same spiel. Her plans never change, she never acts out of her facade. It made you antsy. You need to see them all fall in your lifetime. You would make your ancestors proud by being the one to take it all for yourselves.

You saw the perfect opportunity much to your mothers dismay due to your condition. Having any sort of ailment was like a moth to a flame with Miranda you’ve noticed. Once you had convinced her that you were so devoted, so desperate you would sacrifice yourself to her dark gift you had succeeded further than any Acheron before you. No, you mustn’t stop now. Not when you were so clo-….

“Lady Acheron?”

The sound of the goddess’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, causing an eruption of laughter from that same greasy man from earlier. He’s quickly berated by the monolith of a woman Lady Dimitrescu who stares down at you as she does, but not because she cared about you.

“Enough, Karl..” Miranda hisses, siliencing the both of them as she steps down from her stage, walking towards you with a surprisingly feather light step for a predator.

“Wait ails you little bird? Are you feeling alright?” She asks in a sickingly sweet voice that leaves honey on your own. You hated the blatant infantilizion in front of the others. Her sharp nail guards feel like ice as she grips your face awaiting your answer, staring down at you with those equally icey eyes.

“Just feeling more sickly today than usual, Mother” you lie effortlessly to her, making her give in to your plan unknowingly with that practiced tremble in your tone.

“I know little bird..” she whispers, turning your head side to side in her grip, “That will all be over after tonight”

Despite being part of the plan, you were still very nervous. To be truthful you didn’t think this far ahead, only because you really couldn’t if you tried.

The dark gift affected each Lord differently. Many other subjects have fallen to it, dying before they even start mutating. Your chances of survival will be a hit or a miss, but the opportunities you could take if you lived outweighed all of it.

So you give her a shy smile and nod your head, clasping to her forearm in a facade of comfort and gratitude.

It should have stopped there. Your plan had been running smoothly right up until this moment when a huge wall comes crashing down in front of it’s path due to a certain Lord.

“She is not loyal, Mother.”

Everyone in the room turned their heads to the raspy voice rarely heard outside the lips of her rotten doll, who seemed more preoccupied with the strings on her tiny dress instead of conversation.

“I beg your pardon, Donna?” Miranda asks with a hint of annoyance in her tone, angry at her youngest freak for ruining the moment with her new experiment.

The phantom woman doesn’t budge for a moment until she gets the strength to turn her head towards you.

“Lady Acheron has not been truthful with you, Mother. Nor to all of us..our great family” Lady Beneviento says in a ghostly manner, making your skin crawl as your nails dig into the arms of your chair. Was it possible she found evidence on you? You were always so careful…there’s no way. Unless she used those evil mind tricks to-…

“Do you take me for a fool, Donna?” Miranda snaps, making both Donna and yourself scoot backwards into your chairs.

“The Acherons have been devoted to our great family for centuries, Child. They have no reason to stab our backs.” Miranda says as she turns to face you, expecting you to confirm her statement as true. If only you didn’t hesitate..

White eyes widen as her claws dig into your cheeks before pushing you away, catching your suspicious reaction and finding it worthy of investigating.

Much to your dismay however, was the way she planned on carrying it out.

You were to live, indefinitely, with the Lord who just upped herself on your hit list.

Chapter two

Two full weeks had passed since and you have yet to have the opportunity to investigate Lady Beneviento. Not only did this set back your plan of getting the dark gift, but now you were being watched like a..well, a crow. You suspect your family has since declared you dead, still believing you received it and not making it. Not like you could exactly tell them seeing as you had no way to contact them or anyone else here.

You did feel like life has ended however as you wandered down the same hallway you just came from. Realizing you were under a hallucination the third time around this never ending maze, your eyes make contact with the same painting on the wall with a sigh. But you were bored, and unfortunately lonely, so you kept walking regardless of the consequences.

Getting used to Lady Beneviento’s powers was a challenge at first. You were trained for this though, and soon was able to think clearly even in a intoxicated state by the third night. But something was different about this one, you could feel it as you walk towards the new doors along your path, a strange melody coming from behind them.

Pressing your ear up to the dark wood you hear someone who had yet to appear in your hallucinations. The one causing them.

You make the mistake of leaning too hard against the door making it creak from its old age, causing dream Donna to gasp and freeze in her tracks as you fall into the room.

“What are you doing in here?! Get out!” The phantom lady hisses at you, pointing at you as if her finger was a knife.

You stumble a little as you regain your composure, feeling a bit of confidence in knowing she wasn’t really there as you take a deep breath.

“I would if I could, but you won’t let me out of my own head. You should be the one to get. out” you snarl through clenched teeth, tilting your head to the side mockingly as you approach her.

She quickly shuffles around the desk, putting a barrier between the two of you. You squint at that, feeling geniune fear coming from her as you stop walking.

A hallucination wouldn’t do that, they know they can’t actually be harmed..

“You’re really here.. aren’t you?” You ask quietly, feeling an unwelcome feeling in your chest.

She hesitates to nod her head, her shoulders dropping in a form of relief. You’re terrified to be alone with the real her because she could interrogate you, prove herself to Miranda that she was right about you.. a traitor. All your hard work would be for nothing.

But the constant isolation in this house has made you grow wary. The need for companionship gnawed it’s jagged teeth into the back of your neck. And besides, you could turn this in your favor as well if you played the cards right..

“Please don’t make me go under again..” You ask in a practiced breathy tremble, giving her your best heartbroken expression.

Her feet shift against the floor as her chest moves off balance, her hand gripping onto the chair with white knuckles before taking a seat in it.

Why are you so nervous, Lady Beneviento? You note in your head, keeping up the facade by sitting in the chair opposite of her. She fidgets with the end of her veil, an uneasy silence falling between the two of you alone in that room.

It at least gave you time to scan said room, noting that it looked like an office and a workshop. You shiver a little upon seeing the various doll and mannequin parts hanging from the ceiling, and instead refocus on your target.

“I’m sorry..” Her gentle rasp disrupts the quiet, making you flinch in your seat.

“I’m not used to..guests” she finishes, speech being broken from little use.

“You mean you’re not used to guests living” you correct her in a wave of spite, immediately regretting your decision when her veiled head tilts.

“I thought it wasn’t an issue per our family’s contract what I do with my guests, Lady Acheron. I see that it strikes a nerve with you, why is that?” she asks darkly, leaning forward across the desk like a cat ready to pounce. It made your stomach churn but you kept calm despite your slip up.

Instead you opt for the more sympathetic approach, letting the tears flood your eyes and lowering your eyes to your lap so they fall.

“I’m just scared..I don’t understand why you’re doing this when I need help. I devote myself to Mother Miranda since birth, and yet you all still despise me. And now I’m stuck here with you knowing that you hate me and I feel so alone..” you ramble on between sobs, feeling too in character when your own words hurt to speak.

You hadn’t registered her hand had slipped on top of yours until you move it to wipe your eyes, making you both gasp and sit back into your chairs.

Why would she..

“I’m sorry…” she mutters, folding her hands into her lap instead.

“I just.. I do not hate you. I am not like my siblings” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.

Surely this was just a mind trick, she was known for them after all. Right?

“You do not hate me, yet you lied to Mother Miranda and ruined my chances of being cured” you say plainly, mimicking her by folding your hands into your lap.

“You knew you didn’t have evidence on me, but you did it anyway. Why?” You ask, noticing all her physical tells of nervousness and she thinks of an answer.

Which card would she pull next in this little game?

“You wouldn’t be cured” The phantom woman rasps under her veil, her voice not matching her nervous body language.

“What?” You snap back at her, but she doesn’t flinch and that worries you. She’s being serious…

“You think you know me, don’t you? You think you have the cult all figured out. You plan on eliminating us” she continues, her tone increasing in volume making sweat dampen your palms. If this is how you’ll get answers then so be it.

“…But you don’t know what you’re really up against. You will die the second you try anything and that is not only a promise it is a warning” Donna growls as she leans closer again. You can almost feel her gaze under that dark fabric.

“The cadou is not stable. It’s unreliable and she knows it. You would either die from it, or you would die for it. Once you survive you will be indebted to it. To her.”

The last of her words crack, and you get the feeling she’s talking about her own experience to solidify her warning. You know you shouldn’t trust her, but you want to. You don’t know why, but you crave to.

She could give you everything you needed to know, but there was another desire in you because of it. The latter shattered a great deal of how you felt about the lords and their ties Mother Miranda..

“So what do you suppose I do, hm? Because either way I will die. My illness is only getting worse, Lady Beneviento. You worship the ground Mother Miranda touches just as we all do, yet you benefit the most from it. I’m starting to wonder if you worry your status will lessen if I join the ranks..” you scoff, egging her on to slip up on accident if she was lying.

“I won’t let her hurt another!” She screams as her hands hit the desk, making you jump back deep into your chair at the sudden outburst.

“W-what..” you gasp but she interrupts,

“We were so close.. so close” she groans to herself, putting her hands up to her head as if it pained her.

“What do you mean?” You ask a little more clearly, watching her pace back and forth behind the desk as you heart beats rapidly in your chest.

“We had it all planned out. She has become too powerful.. she could care less about us..” She rants as she paces.

“The night we planned to kill her was thwarted all because of a baby. Instead of going to the chapel for our meeting, she had flew off to welcome the brat into the world. Bless it or whatever myth you humans believe her to do..” she rasps before pointing a finger down at you.

“You were born sick. She knew you were the perfect vessel for her true daughter. We couldn’t interfere with you..she worried we would let it slip” she continues, letting out a small laugh of disbelief once she realizes she did exactly that, and that made you feel ill.

The Lords wanted Miranda dead. They didn’t want you around because they knew what their leader wanted to do to you, and if she succeeded she would be even more dangerous to them. Harder for them to defeat.

“We want her dead, too..” you whisper, feeling exposed the second her head turns towards you again. An unnerving silence falls back between the two of you before the air shifts into something far worse.

Was she really on your side,

Or was it all a mind trick?

***notes**

I’m not sure if I like how I fleshed the characters out just yet, unfortunately without my meds my work tends to be more scattered :( let me know what you think! Is Donna telling the truth? What’s your theories about readers “illness”?

#donna beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 village #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #resident evil fanfiction

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